#gonna take quite a minute to actually get through to meet everyone...

[psycloneandmyuu]

So Psyclone thinks he's the only mewtwo...

He is about to get a surprise. ... maybe not right now but soonish.

anyhow who wants some OCS!

[gloomunson]

Purely Transactional

First time really publishing anything I've written for Eddie. No stranger to smut. just to him. Go easy on me.

Eddie Munson smut. The one where you fake date. Picture the 90s. Slow build.

Word Count: 12,872

Picture this; you’re being forced to attend your sisters engagement party, it’s a weekend event a couple towns over. You’ve got a room booked for two, yourself and your boyfriend. Your family can’t wait to meet the man who’s stolen your heart at last. It’s actually the second biggest event in your family history for years. The issue: you don’t have a boyfriend. You haven’t had one since you were 16. You only said you did have a boyfriend because you thought you would have by now. You never saw life going this way at all. Now you either have to fess up to being a single mother of two beautiful little dogs or find a last minute lover to feel less alone. Yay.

You asked everyone you knew. The neighbour, the neighbour’s neighbour. His cousin from out of town, his cousin from out of town’s neighbour. Every single one of your friends and only one of them gave you something or more, someone to work with. “Why don’t you ask Eddie?” You’re slouching on his sofa, sinking into the leather as he strums away at his guitar a joint hanging dangerously from his mouth. “I don’t know him.” You say it like it’s obvious, kicking your feet up. “Which is exactly why you should.” You catch his drift, but you don’t want to. It wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was. “I’m gonna get asked questions.” You deadpan. “So, make some notecards.” You tug the joint from his mouth, bringing it to your own. “Yes you may have that.” You flick him. “Rude.” You take a drag before slotting it back gently between his lips, returning to your seat.

“He won’t do it.” Gareth doesn’t respond. “I know he won’t, he doesn’t like me.” He huffs. ‘You hadn’t given him a chance to’ is what he says in his mind. “Has he told you that?” He quit playing, giving you more of his attention. He really did want to help. “Not exactly, no.” He leaned over his guitar, placing the joint down in his hand painted ash tray on the coffee table. The one you made for him for Christmas the year before. The one that he loved and guarded with his life. “Ask him.” You shake your head. “Ask him.” He says again, the guitar now being rested carefully against the table alerting you that he meant business. “No. Way.” You continue. He moves over to you; you slot your legs across his lap, and he leans back into his seat comfortably under the weight of them. “I’m gonna ask him.” You think he’s joking. You hoped he was joking. He wasn’t joking.

-

“Edward, we don’t know each other that well so I thought you’d be perfect plus you’re kinda the only other single one left, so it had to be you.” There were no lies told. You were the only ones; it might have been the only thing you actually had in common in your little inner circle of friends. You weren’t close but you also weren’t complete strangers. You were a little more than acquaintances, but not really friends. He was your only shot at this, that much you did know. “I resent that.” You roll your eyes, ‘you would,’ you think. You’re running out of options, he was your last chance, you had a week to prepare, this had to be it. You considered throwing in the towel moments before he arrived at your place. Half an hour late. It should have been enough of a sign not to go through with it but then he did arrive. Meaning that somewhere deep down inside him, he was interested. You could work with interested.

“I’ll pay you.” You can’t imagine anything worse; you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to actually pay him but desperate all the same. He seemed reasonable enough though. He had more money now than he knew what to do with and he was close with Gareth. Gareth was good people; he’d turn your offer down; you were sure of it. “How much?” He perks up, stroking his chin now his attention was caught. “You weren’t actually supposed to want payment.” You panicked, feet shuffling, hands tapping your thighs relentlessly. He was smirking. “Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?” He steps in close, a couple feet between you, not enough. “Want me to act like an escort? You’re gonna have to pay me like one.” If you hadn’t ever had a conversation with him, you might have found that attractive. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His jawline so picturesque you may have thought about kissing it once or twice. You also liked his eyes, even if he was cold and callous beneath them, only out for himself. But he wasn’t that attractive, and he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he did. Much.

“Like you don’t have more money than my entire family combined.” You dig. His rock star era made a hell of a name for himself. This was never going to happen. You don’t know why he even entertained it this far. There wasn’t a single helpful bone in his body, no matter how much you wished there were. “How bad do you need a boyfriend sweetheart?” He shortens the space between you even more. Your chest feels tight, the confidence dripping from his tongue was actually working on you, you were out of your depth. The way he looked at you too. Eyes flicking down to your lips and back, head tilting slightly, almost robotically, like he was sizing you up. Seeing if he could make it work. Make you work for him. You felt a heat on the back of your neck. You felt gross.

“100 bucks if they believe it, 50 if they don’t.” You couldn’t believe you were even saying it. You’d have to make him forget you agreed to any of that. “For how long?” He quipped back. “You’re so greedy. I’m gonna have to make a note of that in our very public lovers spat.” You lace it with venom as well as humour, standing your ground. The corner of his lips begins to curl. He fights it. “How long?” He repeats again, just as steady in tone. ��A weekend.” You breathe. “Like Saturday and Sunday.” He asks. “Like Friday to Monday,” you respond just as deadpan. “200.” He takes a dangerous step closer. You don’t flinch. “150 and no black eye.” His brows furrow, forehead creasing in confusion. He kind of reminded you of a neanderthal. Dumb little boy.

“Why would I have a black eye?” You raise your fist. “OKAY PUT YOUR FIST DOWN. Jesus woman, I’ll do it.” He admits defeat. “Perfect. I made some note cards, things about me you may get asked about, read them, memorise them, guard them with your life.” You tug the notes from your back pocket, pushing them into his chest abruptly. He looks down at them quizzically. “What if they ask about me?” You shrug your shoulders. “I’m sure you’re not that complex.” He doesn’t attempt to hide how insulted he is by that.

“When is it?” You point to the cards. “All the information you need is in the notes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “how are we-“ you go to open your front door, you’d had the entire conversation in the hallway, not wanting him to go any further into your home than that. “In the notes Edward.” He takes a look down at the cards in his hands, he hated reading other people’s handwriting, made him feel dumb when he couldn’t understand it as well as he’d liked. You joined your letters all curly too which didn’t help. He actually half expected you to dot the I’s with hearts, you seemed like that kind of girl. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that you hadn’t.

You’re ushering him out the door, waving your hand to make him move faster. He pauses in your doorframe. You were so close. You could just kick him; he’d be off your property in no time. You wouldn’t have to think about him for another week then. You could pack your bags in peace. “You spelt my name wrong.” He points to the card; you’d done it on purpose. “No, I think your parents did.” He frowns. Before he can respond again you give him that much needed shove out the door. “BYE Eddie!” You slam it behind him, leaning your back against it as if that would prevent him from getting back inside and on top of your nerves again. He found the whole ordeal just as unpleasant as you had but he still finds himself on the other side of that door with a smile on his face. He read every single card you wrote for him. You were way more annoying than he thought. 

-

“What part are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask the table, leaning over, reaching for your cocktail to distract your mouth before you can step your foot in it. You were being tested way harder than you ever anticipated you would. You really never imagined they’d care let alone put you on trial for the crime of getting a boyfriend without their prior knowledge or approval. It’s nice to know how friendly and welcoming they really are when push comes to shove. You’d have to keep that in mind for the real thing, whenever that might be.

You’d laugh the nerves away, but you were afraid you might never stop laughing. You’d just manically laugh until you sank under the table, down into the ground, right to centre of the earth, burning up at the core before passing away painfully. You wished you could laugh. Instead, you just took the longest sip, looking to your left and right as subtly as you could muster under the immense pressure placed upon your shoulders by your sister and her fiancé. Deep breaths, it’ll all be over soon. 

“I don’t buy it.” She states matter of factly. “You go from a single dog mom to suddenly in love with the perfect guy.” You open your mouth to speak but you daren't even try, she’s not finished yet. “It’s a little conveniently timed don’t you think?” She waves her hands to illustrate her point in that annoying fashion that only she could. Waving her fresh manicure right in your face, whether accidental or on purpose, still ridiculously annoying and yet another reminder that she had her life together and you didn’t. She turned to her fiancé before glancing towards the rest of the table for back up, all nodding along with her instantly as if she were a puppet master stringing them along. Cowards. 

Your gaze remains steady and ice cold, colder than the slushy cocktail in your hands. The only thing that made the weekend worth it was the free bar and the adorable outdoor beer garden. You release the straw after a long sip with an “Ahh.” You try not to enjoy the twitch of your sister’s right eye at the sound. She’d always loathed when people did that. Anyone who made a noise of satisfaction after a drink no matter how delicious or refreshing it may be, was a colossal pain in her ass. You think she just despises other people’s enjoyment. She thinks it’s an unnecessary sound that people tend to use to exaggerate how nice something is as a performance for other people rather than for themselves. She also thinks it’s incredibly unladylike, which gives you a bigger kick to try it out every single time.

“Why would I lie?” You place your drink down harder than you intend to, wincing as the glass clangs on the table so hard you thought it may shatter. “You know I love you sis, but I don’t think I’d go to the length of faking a relationship just because you’re getting engaged.” Which would be such a wonderful sentence to throw out into the universe if that weren’t exactly what you were doing. “I just met the right guy.” You try not to grimace at the cheesiness of it all, that, and the fact you still hadn’t decided if you’d even liked him more than just a piece of eye candy. Because there was no denying that he was attractive, from the start he’d had that going at least. You’d only been admitting it because of the influence of alcohol too. It was just the rest of the package that gave you a headache.

“But he’s-“ You scowl before she continues that sentence, you almost will her to continue. “He’s what?” You push. If anyone were going to come for Eddie they had better make it good because that was an area you excelled in and would absolutely love to be a part of even if you did have to defend him right now. You could always use any good material at a later date when left to your own devices though, a pen and paper would be wonderful.

“He’s not your type.” You don’t believe that’s what she planned to say, it came out far too polite to be something she’d actually thought of. “What is my type then?” You probably shouldn’t have asked her this, but your curiosity trumps all reason. She flails her hand around in her lap, trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. You had no doubt your past relationships were displaying in her mind, enough horrendous options for her to choose from right out of a hat. 

“Nerds,” she begins to list on her fingers, which is quite alarming because you really didn’t think you had that much of a track record. “Gamer boys,” which basically comes under ‘nerds.’ “Skinny guys,” that was absolutely not exclusive, “Gamer boy nerds.” She throws 3 fingers up. That’s if she was classing ‘boy’ as a type which you assume she was. You had to hand it to her, she wasn’t entirely wrong about your past dating pool, but Eddie wasn’t exactly far off that. Allegedly, back in his school days, he was the biggest nerd of them all, right before his band took off, he was participating in DnD tournaments and if that wasn’t the epitome of gamer boy nerd then what was? He just happened upon a glow up in his mid-twenties, something you still desperately waited for yourself. “Eddie just, doesn’t seem much of a nerd.” You’re certain that’s not what she intended to say, and you thought she might stop herself there, but she doesn’t, why would she? “He’s, well I hate to say it,” you bet she doesn’t though, “he’s out of your league.” Ahh, there it is. That’s more like it. She even says it with an apologetic expression to make you consider it for a millisecond. If only he were here. Oh, how he’d love this.

Eddie was the lucky one in this scenario, whether it was fake or not, you were a catch. One that no one had ever caught and kept hold of but a catch, nonetheless. Your mom would agree, probably not the best argument but it’s there and it counted. You reached for your drink once again and prayed he returned soon; you were drowning out here and you weren’t even out of the shallows. “Then lucky me.” You sip as aggressively as one can with a shitty paper straw wedged between their teeth. You were so glad the sea turtles were safer at the hands of recycled paper straws, but you so missed being able to drink a cocktail without the added ingredient of paper mache sinking at the bottom of each glass.

“Why are we in luck?” His voice swings in joining the conversation as he walks back over to your table, the chain on his jeans jingling as it swayed while he walked. You’d asked him to remove it, he swore he would, he didn’t. His hearing was impeccable, you wonder what else had slipped by him on his way over. You’d honestly never felt so relieved to hear his voice either, even if his steps closer bought the smell of cheap cigarettes and your early twenties. You’d have loved him back then. Back in college, your first taste of freedom, the option to date whoever you liked, to experiment a little. You’d have eaten up that bad boy, leather jacket, fingers coated in metal, cigarette smoking musician act he had going for him. Quiet and brooding too, oh yeah, your knickers would have never left the floor. Good thing you grew up since then. 

He grabbed his chair, pushing it right next to yours, as close as he could get without sitting directly on top of you and for a second you ponder about why he bothered with his chair at all. His eyes burned into the side of your face, and you plastered a smile wide enough to match his as you leant into him. “What took you so long?” You whispered while maintaining that sickeningly sweet smile that hurt your face to pull. “You miss me that much?” He licked across his bottom lip, and you mentally scold yourself for looking at it. “I’m getting eaten alive out here.” He grinned wider. “Must be because you’re so damn delicious.” Your stomach fluttered. What the fuck? 

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You felt yourself relax into him, like his lips had sucked all of the tension from your body. You may not like him very much but you sure were glad he was here right now. Even without the facade, it was hard being in environments where you had to face your entire family alone. It’s not that you weren’t close with them, or didn’t love them, it was just difficult standing your own ground sometimes. You needed that extra shield for the invasive questions and high expectations, the anchor to keep you firmly in place, sure of yourself. It was a tough act to balance. 

He couldn’t deny that he’d gained some respect for you for how well you’d handled things. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d manage a family dynamic like this alone, even if he were part of it. He was kind of developing a soft spot for you, probably more than you were anyway. Okay, definitely more than you were. He wasn’t sure when it started. He’d had the message exchanges throughout the last week. He had the detailed notes about your life from start to finish to divulge. The 3 hour car journey where you refused to play music, instead forcing him to answer questions about you in preparation for the event. It was somewhere amongst there. Maybe even when you’d shared a room the past two nights without killing each other. In seeing a vulnerable side of you that made you appear a little more human. He’d also seen a larger portion of you without clothing, that certainly helped.

Yes. Perhaps somewhere around there he’d liked you. All he knew now was that in watching your interactions with your family, it made him want to stick to you like glue and support you the best he could for however long you would let him. You had it covered, and you’d tell him that too, afraid of showing any weaknesses, but that’s exactly why he felt like he should support you, he didn’t want you to feel so alone, you didn’t have to be so alone. He’d known all too well what that was like.

He didn’t even have to force himself to kiss your cheek that time, he’d just wanted to rid your face of the frown that threatened to grace it, even if he found it adorable. His issue now was that he had trouble moving away. His lips lingering, breath tickling your cheek, until you coughed under your breath for him to shift away. For a moment he’d wished it weren’t all play pretend. That he could stay there and have it not feel so strange. He couldn’t pin point when his eyes started to soften at the sight of you. All he knew was that they had. It was getting increasingly easier to act enamoured by you, because, well, he might have been.

“So, what did I miss?” He tilts his head towards the rest of the table, it felt like such a difficult task to withdraw his attention from you. You yourself took the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. You also needed to pat your stomach to hold off the swarm of butterflies scrambling around in there. There was this dizzying, uneasiness in the pit of your tummy, like you were fighting the emotions within yourself. Those damn love bugs were wasting their time going crazy for this situation. It wasn’t real, not worth the energy. Surely you didn’t need to be convinced of that, it was clear as day. You didn’t need this unnecessary nausea. “We were just talking about what a wonderful couple you are.” Your brother in law speaks, directing his attention towards the man at your side. You really thought you’d liked that man, he betrayed you. You kept a special scowl just for him. He felt hot under the collar when he felt the intensity of it. Good, you thought. Traitor. 

Eddie bravely dipped his hand down onto your thigh where he’d noticed your hand was already resting, slipping his fingers between yours, resting atop your knuckles effortlessly for all to see. You’d felt your breath hitching in your throat. The simplicity of the action shouldn’t have caused such a stir, but it was just so easy for him. He was so touchy feely like it was the most natural thing in the world. He loved to touch, and you never expected it from him. It was one of the main reasons that made it so hard to remain sure that this was all an act. Was he like this with everyone? You’d half hoped he wasn’t, even if your other half screamed at you for that naivety. It wasn’t exactly your love language, but you’d wished it were, you wanted to touch him. Too many drinks maybe.

“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?” He threw back with nothing but charm, sweet like honey dripping from his tongue. If he weren’t in a band you could certainly picture him as an actor with some of the crap he pulled. Sometimes he even had you believing this whole thing, lines blurring like no other. Especially when nuzzled his nose into your neck eliciting a squeal from your lips. All before deciding to stay there, sitting with his chin resting on your shoulder happily. Like the most casual position in the world.

Your heart pounded against your chest. His arm slunk around your waist. His mouth opened for you, signalling you to bring his cocktail and straw between his lips to take a sip. A ridiculously over the top public display of affection you swore you’d never partake in. Yet for some reason your hands were ignoring every judgment your mind was making, allowing you to feed him his drink like some kind of mother to a parched child. It was interesting to you how fast you’d been able to communicate with him like that without it ever needing to be said or asked for. “You owe me.” You whisper. “Not how this transaction really works.” He says between sips rather impressively. It might even be considered cute if it wasn’t such a threat. Your cheeks burned.

“It just seems so sudden.” Your sister just can’t bite back her tongue for more than two seconds huh. You’re literally sat there with giant, red, beaming heart eyes for each other. So, close your personal space would never be described as such for as long as you shall live, ever again. Literally feeding each other. Squeezing each other’s hands. Hating every second you’re apart. Feeling like you may break without the other. Whispering sweet nothings (more like threats but no one else had spotted that) into each other’s ears. You’re both so over the top, overwhelmingly infatuated (although falsely) with each other you may as well claim this engagement party as your own and YET, no one believed you for a second. Hell, even you thought you might be falling. Thank you vodka.

“When you know, you know.” You say, lifting your hand to pat his cheek after putting his drink back on the table. He squeezes your other hand instinctively. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it in the first place, it felt so nice and soft, like it belonged in his. It could belong there. “What will it take to convince you?” He offers. You squeeze his hand even harder, this time hoping to pump the breaks on this one. As much as you appreciated him sticking up for the relationship. You weren’t up for a quick fire round of questions that you weren’t prepared in the slightest. Especially since he refused to learn the answers to any potential enquiries a day prior. Deeming the impromptu quiz session in the car ‘enough learning for a lifetime.’

“Ed,” is all you warn while you beg him to shut up with your mind instead. “No, no sweetie, we can answer all the questions they have.” He grinned at you so menacingly; you wanted to wipe that smirk right off his adorably smug little face. Woah. When did he become adorable? Scratch that. Shush. You’re so pissed you don’t even fawn over the pet name, much. You may as well pack your bags now and return home though, you were done for, the hoax was over. The end.

“What’s her favourite band?” Okay, we’re actually doing this. “Or singer, if that’s easier.” Ryan, your least favourite brother in law and your only brother in law, fires out. He only knew the answer himself because he tried to impress you one Christmas by buying you a limited edition vinyl. Of all the people at this table, you thought at least he wouldn’t be sceptical of you. Unbelievable.

“There isn’t just one, its multiple, depends what mood she’s in.” You’re intrigued already on where this is going. Your sister jeered at the response, already less than impressed. Eddie turns his head, lifting his hand to silence her before she can say anything. You almost pat him on the back for it. “But, if I had to choose.” Which he did. He really did. “Queen, Black Sabbath, and I’m going to add Corroded Coffin in there because she’s our number one groupie, aint that right babe?” You allow yourself to roll your eyes at the last part, even if you were dating you doubt you’d let him describe you as a groupie, dick.

“That’s easy, they’re pretty generic choices.” You had to give them that one, it wasn’t the most cut throat list of indie artists you could only associate with your taste and yours only. You’d been a bit of a basic music lover your whole life and there was no shame in that. You liked what you liked and that was okay. You were still impressed he knew any of your list though. Maybe he actually had read your notes, lying shit. Definitely not adorable. “Favourite food?” Okay, still going. You lean back, may as well get comfortable since you’re going to be here for a while. 

He snorted before answering that one and you wondered what was so insanely funny that could make him move his hand away from your thigh to explain it properly. You missed his touch the second you were without it. Gag. “Bread.” He giggled just saying it, the kind of giggle where the creases beside his eyes really stood out and his cheeks bunched up all precious and pudgy underneath them. You can’t help but smile.

“But not just plain bread right,” he looked to you before continuing as if to say ‘hey, watch this, look at me.’ He thinks he has you down. You indulge him. “So, bread in its many forms,” he lifted his fingers to start listing, “sandwiches, toast, brioche, fried bread, french toast, pizza dough, the list goes on right but at the height of it all,” he really gestured above his head to signify the detailed tier system of bread options. He added a small and useless breather to gain anticipation, it wasn’t working. “Garlic bread.” 

You snorted a laugh yourself this time. Not because he was wrong either, because he was 100% correct in fact. You were mortified that, that was your own answer. He locked eyes with you in a way that he hadn’t done before, with genuine affection, maybe even a glimmer of hope that he’d done you justice. He was captivated by you, your cheeks bursting with redness, your smile tight, starting to hurt you in fighting it. You looked so pretty right now. The glow of the lamps out in this beer garden just added to the radiance he already thought you had. He couldn’t believe a girl as pretty as you considered bread your favourite food.

He also found the noise you made to be one of the cutest things he’d ever heard, and he wished he could make you do it again someday. He really didn’t consider himself that funny though. He might have to get some drinks down you for another laugh like that. “I thought your favourite were sour patch kids?” Your sister argued, using her nails again to assist her point. Eddie quickly chimed in before you could go to correct her.

“Actually, that was her hyper fixation for a little while, ate every flavour except lemon. Which are my favourite, so it works out pretty well.” Your jaw may as well have hit the floor. He’d only known that from the car ride up here. You were about to throw the packet out before he stopped you, complaining you were wasting money and food since you left all the yellow ones. You were shocked he remembered. If you were impressed by him right now, surely everyone else had to be too, right? Wrong.

“Celebrity crush?” He answered this quicker than you or he would like to admit. You also just didn’t  know how he came to the conclusion he did and how he was so correct with it, suspicious. “Harrison Ford hands down, can’t even knock it, he’s a handsome man.” The next question went swimmingly too. “Favourite hobby?” He gave it a thought for a second, glancing to you and back, “painting, she’ll say she’s no good at it but actually she’s got a gift. I’ve never seen anyone use colour the way she does. Actually, considered using some of your work for album art.”  He turned to you towards the end, and you struggled to decipher whether it was bullshit or not. Your heart actually ached at the thought of it being true. 

“Favourite movie?” Your brother in law’s turn to ask. You threw your head back in exasperation. “What is this, the Spanish inquisition? Is this really necessary?” You looked to your sister and her future husband. “Yes!” They admitted in unison. Eddie’s hand returned to your thigh, patting it softly, his thumb rubbing soothing shapes into your bare skin. It was working. God it was working. He was like ice against your fire, the way he cooled you.

“I’ve got this.” He assured you. “Yeah, you kind of do, that’s why it’s so fucking weird.” You admitted quietly but not enough as to hide it from anyone else, deeming it safe for public consumption. He smirked. “Scared I know too much about you?” You were. You were terrified. This time you do lower your voice. “Just didn’t know you could actually read. Guess my notes were a great help after all.” You stuck your tongue out. For a second he thought about taking it in his mouth, probably some other filthier thoughts floated around his brain too. It was something about the proximity and the cocktails you’d shared, you could always blame those.

“Anything Tim Burton but her favourite would have to be the one with Winona,” he knows he has it right, but he just can’t think of the name, turning to you momentarily for help, you mouthed “Edward Scissorhands” before he nodded and repeated it. Considering it featured his own name, you’d think he would remember it. He then paused, not for dramatic effect but so he could smile to himself as he thought about why that was your favourite. “It depicts the whole Frankenstein’s monster thing just finding his way into suburbia but we as the audience” he gestured to his chest, “see a lot more heart than that, an innocent kind of love, one we all want to make us feel worthy, naive really, but ultimately sweet and sacrificing.”

You leant in, your lips close to his ear. “If we were really dating, you’d be getting your dick sucked so hard tonight.” It took every bone in his body not shut the evening down and carry you back to your hotel room with that false promise in mind. He instead tried to ignore the now throbbing sensation in his trousers. Had you always done that to him?

“Ok those are fairly standard.” In what world was his last answer not specifically catered to you? “How about a random trivia round?…” The suggestions just kept going. If this were the only worthy form of entertainment they could find, married life was going to be abysmal. “Or.” He began and this is when you really, really started to panic, like exponentially. There was nothing that could have helped him out now. Your notes only consisted of the likes, dislikes, and the fake scenario in which you first met. There was nothing else. That was the end of the script. He couldn’t be that good at improvisation. You didn’t want the opportunity to find out either. You were no casting director. He no longer had to impress you or anyone else. If they were still at odds with the situation then so be it. You couldn’t please everyone. It really shouldn’t have taken you that long to realise it. Huh. The more you know.

“I can tell you about how she makes me feel.” You really, truly would rather you didn’t know. If it’s the truth, it would hurt. If it was a lie, well that might hurt even more. You begged the universe to keep him quiet. Whatever he had to say was going to blow your cover and throw this whole shit show up in flames. Your sister seemed so keen and intrigued enough to let him continue. You however, said your final goodbyes to any future you had where you weren’t a laughing stock for the entire family. A future where Eddie Munson couldn’t reject and discard you publicly. Now it was a very real possibility, you were far more upset than you ever thought you would be. Eddie glances at you briefly, bucking up the courage to put on the biggest and most detrimental show of his entire life. 

He doesn’t face your sister when the words come tumbling from his mouth. He faced you, addressing you like he needed you to hear this and fuck, maybe he did. You actually felt touched about it until he opened his mouth. “You’re kind of a fucking weirdo.” You went to shut him up as the embarrassment crept in, but he spoke louder as he often did. “You are, you’re a freak- and it’s so, it’s refreshing.” Your mouth closed but oh, so slowly. You began to listen to him, decided to trust him. “You’re fucking nuts.” You rolled your eyes. How many ways were there, to describe you as crazy? Why did he feel the need to use all of them? “But I like it. I do. I feel like I can be myself around you.” He talked with his hands a lot as he scrambled the words, rings clinking against each other. You reached for them, settling them in your lap and he silently thanked you for it. Everything got a whole lot easier when you held his hand. 

“You make it feel okay to be a bit crazy. You don’t have to be so straight or basic, you can just, be.” Just as you started to smile, you saw that you weren’t the only one. It was working, his little speech was actually working. “I like who I am around you. Even if sometimes you don’t. I like that you tell me when I piss you off. I like that you act like you hate me when you don’t. I like that you’re so fucking stubborn and headstrong you’d never rely on anyone else and that pisses me off.” You felt tingling racing across your chest. “I love that no moment with you feels forced. That, that smile, right there could make flowers bloom.” He gestured to your face with both of your hands linked together. “That your glare could cause a fucking storm or something.” You tried not to get swept up in the fact he’d stopped saying ‘like.’ 

“I love that everything feels okay when your hand is in mine, even when you try and say you don’t like holding hands, you’re too good at it to hate it. You know exactly the right moments.” He shook his head with a disbelief. It started to feel so real. “I think I’d miss you even if I’d never met you.” His hand tightened around yours when he said his last sentence. “And I’m glad I met you. I hope one day you’ll be glad you met me too.” The rest of his speech hadn’t mattered when he uttered those words. The words that knocked the breath out of you, leaving you fighting for your life in the seat next to him. You don’t think anyone had ever referred to you so kindly in your life, even if he did call you fucking mental at least 5 times throughout. 

He couldn’t even breathe. He’d said it. He’d let it all out and now he just saw the look of shock on your face and couldn’t take a single breath, not knowing how you’d react. It was news to him too though. He could play it off as a lie, say he saw it in a movie, some chick flick or something. He’d copied it because of course he had. But then again, on the off chance you weren’t horrified, he wasn’t sure if he had any more guts left to tell you it was true. He just knew that he needed to do something. He had to fill this painful silence somehow and thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone. 

You kissed him. You scraped your jaw off the floor, and you kissed him. You’d not kissed him like this before. Like your life depended on it. Like he was the very air you needed to breathe. Like he’d meant every word he’d just said, and you’d believed it. God you might have even felt the same. You were also slightly ashamed to say, it had your panties soaking between your thighs. Not to mention your heart thundering in your chest.

Eddie kissed you as if he were tattooing his words across your lips for all of eternity. Because for the first time throughout this whole charade, he was actually allowed to mean every word he had said, whether he knew this was how he was feeling at the start of the evening or not. Neither of you could have predicted a confession like this. Even after giving one, he wasn’t quite believing it himself. But fuck, there was freedom in it. There was a lovely form of permanence. Him knowing his words were out there for the universe to take and make with what it will. He felt weightless. It wasn’t the cocktails. Something just clicked in his brain, and he knew it. You were everything.

You melted into each other when his lips found yours. It was sweet and slow but confident, with purpose. Each stroke of his lips against yours carefully considered and carried out like clockwork. You’d felt a rush from this kiss. It was hungrier than any other you’d shared. Quite frankly it was starved. You’d pressed up against him so hard and he’d done just the same to you. His hands coming up to tilt your chin up towards him for more. As if you hadn’t been close enough already. Its only when you gasped at his touch did he slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew he’d had so much practice kissing women like this, but you couldn’t care. You allowed him inside, welcomed the way he licked into your mouth delicately. Blissfully enjoying the taste of his last cigarette on his breath, shocked that it’s not even a put off for you right now.

His words had gotten you drunker than the cocktails you’d been knocking back all evening. You almost whined when he dragged himself away from you. It was way too premature for your liking. Your eyes remained on him and only him as your hands fell back from their place atop his shoulders. You weren’t even sure when they’d gotten there in the first place, just swept away with nothing but him to guide you. 

He smiled at you; a smile you know he hadn’t been pretending. You were about to lean back in, sealing that gap between you, before you were reminded of exactly where you were. In public. Very much in public. You sank back into your seat sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks, burning hot like lava ready to erupt. Eddie threw his arm around you, and you seized the opportunity to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. He thought it might be the cutest thing you could possibly have done. He even struggled to wipe the blush off his own cheeks. He felt like a school boy again. “Okay, fine, we believe you.” Your sister threw her hands up in defeat. You’d forgotten what you were even aiming to prove, your head was so flooded with hormones. It remained that way until you were back inside the hotel.

-

Back in the safety of your room, deep in the darkness, the only light being from the glowing orange streetlights outside, you found yourself nervous for what would come next. You needed a moment to think. “I’m going to take a shower.” You said softly. “Do you mind?” He shook his head, unable to speak. You’d think that after he’d already lay everything down on the table, that he’d find it easier to approach you, but he resorted back to silence. “Go ahead.” He offered. You wanted to ask him to join you. You didn’t. You just thought about it while you locked the bathroom door behind you. When you wiped off your makeup. When you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stripping and stepping inside. You thought about it even under the water, arm stretched out to reach you shampoo. You still didn’t.

He’s already tucked away under the sheets, while you’re in there. He thought about falling asleep, willing himself into a trance before you could return, he couldn’t. His mind was swimming with thoughts. He instead insured that the wall of cushions you’d built on night one, was as high as it ever was. There to wedge a distance between you once more. Which is what you wanted, right? It was your main housekeeping rule for sharing a bed.

“Hey." He breathed, as you returned from the bathroom, steam seeping out after you. He was nervous. You ignored it. He lay flat, facing the ceiling, his arms fastened at his sides above the covers. You shouldn’t let your eyes wander but the light had given you a clear path to follow, leading you to the tattooed arachnid of his chest. You wanted to touch it, you’re not sure why. You slipped silently into bed beside him, only you turned your back on him, willing the conversation to end. But you didn’t actually want it to be over. 

He rolled over without so much as a creak being made on the old bed. He barely even tugged the cover from you. It’s like a move too sudden would spook you and send you running, it might have, he couldn’t be certain. “Do you think the great wall of prevention might be ready to come down?” He nudged it into your back for emphasis. He didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t either. And yet, your stomach twisted to think of an excuse, a reason for it to stay very much where it was. Only you didn’t find one. “Okay.” You spoke softly. “Okay.” He repeats just as low, just making sure. You hardly felt him moving them. It was so unlike him to be so gentle, so light handed, treading carefully. He was so cautious and calculated, you never thought he had it in him. The cushions were gone. Now what?

“I’m gonna ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but I really need to ask it so please just hear me out.” There were a million different things he could have asked you; you’d never have enough time to predict it or rehearse the correct answer, you could only breathe as you anticipated it. “Can I hold you?” It felt good to say it, even if his breath was shaky and his heart felt like it might just pack in. He really wanted to touch you. That was before he even saw you there, lay in the warm glow of the light, hair still a little damp, loose over your shoulder, your t-shirt clinging to your body.

The sheets weren’t covering your lower half as well as you’d thought they were, not now the barrier between you was down. Now he could see the lace band of your panties peeking bellow your sleep shorts. He was about to abandon the whole ordeal. Just a peek shouldn’t have been enough to stir him between his legs and maybe it wasn’t, not on its own. But if he’d counted every other occasion tonight where you’d looked too pretty, sounded too sweet, it all added up and he guessed it contributed to the problem. 

He started to worry when you didn’t answer him. You obviously weren’t asleep. You were clearly fiddling with the sheets, your fingers tugged at the material anxiously. He’d completely overstepped, he should have expected that. You weren’t together. You wouldn’t ever be together. That was all this entire weekend was supposed to be after all. Just an opportunity to fake it. How could he be so stupid? “Come here.” He looks down to see you half turned back to him, the duvet lifted, giving him even more of a view of your shorts, but he tried not to look at you too much. To just see the invitation, which was what mattered the most. 

He wasn’t sure how to approach, you couldn’t help him either. You would spoon, that was a given, you hadn’t budged your position, left him no choice but to mould his body around yours. He shuffled closer, awkwardly trying to stretch his right arm underneath your pillow without lifting your head, hurting your neck. He curled around your back, leaving inches between you, like he couldn’t quite make himself grow any closer. His left arm rested on his own hip, too afraid to reach out and touch yours. He’d asked to hold you. Why can’t he hold you? 

You took matters into your own hands. You blindly reached behind you, hands finding his. Your one superpower. You interlock your fingers with his and bring his arm around your waist, the heat of his body coming with it. You could probably feel his heart pounding chest now he allowed it to press against your back. You definitely felt the goosebumps climbing his arms when you pressed a feather light kiss to his knuckle. His heart leapt in his chest.

“What was that for?” He lifted his head, you don’t know it, but he can see enough of your face from this angle to catch the blush on your cheeks and the smile that crept onto it. He’s reassured by it. “Just felt like it.” You shrugged. Only he doesn’t buy it, but he won’t push his luck. His head hit the pillow, only this time, he’s closer to you. His nose is nearly buried in your apple scented locks. You were so sweet smelling at all times, but that apple was just so incredibly you. He knew you’d only used the stuff because it came in a green bottle too. Because only you would map your product selection on the colour alone. It was one of the first facts in your note cards, that your favourite colour was green.

Fuck. He thinks. He really fucking liked you. He wouldn’t even curse himself for it. You weren’t what he expected, and he liked that. He liked that this didn’t go to plan. He liked that he couldn’t pretend any longer. He was grinning to himself, chuckling even. He boldly buried his head in the crook of your neck like he’d done a couple of times that night but more invasively now there wasn’t much space between you. 

“What’s so funny?” You shook his hand in yours. “Hmm?” You fought a laugh yourself; his laughter was infectious; it was just stupid and cute and stupid. “Gareth was right.” He said. You turned your head back slightly, unable to see anything really, before giving up and leaning into the pillow again. “Bout what?” He leaned his head on your shoulder, lips nearing your ear. “Told me this wouldn’t work.” Interesting really, since he ushered you into asking him into this at the start. You’re suitably confused. He’s holding you, giggling in your ear, body warm against yours in this stupidly large bed that he’d made feel tiny, after convincing your family how in love you are, and he said it wasn’t working. That Gareth, your biggest influencer, had also predicted it. Well, you’d have said the opposite. 

“This isn’t working.” You have a questioning tone. “Didn’t seem like that downstairs.” You were defensive, rightly so. “No, not like that.” He started. Your grip on his hand loosened and he panicked. ‘Just say what you mean, say what you mean,’ he tells himself. “Turn over.” He leant himself up, still firmly on his side. “Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Please turn over.” He pleaded. “Whyy?” You say again. “Fuck, would you just-“ he shook his hand free from yours, placing it firmly on your hip and he twisted you, so you were flat on your back, facing up at him with surprise. He didn’t expect that to work as well as it did.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He huffed. “Thanks.” Your arms crossed over your stomach, you tried to avoid his gaze, but he manoeuvred himself so that he was directly above you. He decided you couldn’t be trusted to keep you gaze anywhere but on him. You had to give him a shot. Your expression had softened at the sight of him. Just like he’d hoped. His stupid round cheeks. The dumb smile. Why was he always smiling? 

“I wanna kiss you.” He said. You thought he was childish. “Is holding not enough?” He shook his head. “Never enough.” He leaned in close, but he doesn’t kiss you, not yet. His forehead just pressed against yours, his lips hovered, breath tickling your own mouth. “Can I?” He begged for it. “Yes.” You breathed. He does. His lips brush yours and it’s just as nice as every other kiss he’d given you. You’re not sure why you expected it to be different all of a sudden. You just had the idea that maybe it would be. Now that you, well now that you actually liked it.

But it wasn’t different, it was exactly the same. “Eddie.” You whined. “Yeah?” He was upset that you’d interrupted such a crucial moment. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” Your fingers stroked over his cheek; he arched a brow to question you. “We have kissed before; you remember that right?” He teased. You couldn’t have been that drunk. “Yes. Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” He’s still not on the same page although relieved somewhat that you were in fact sober like he thought.

In his mind that kiss was perfect, electrifying, mind blowing, the best kiss yet, you’d have known it too if you didn’t stop him so quickly. “What’s it feel like?” He tried to understand. You thought for a moment. What did it feel like? Warm, soft, sweet, he was one of the sweetest tastes. Where most men would taste of mint, Eddie didn’t. He tasted like cigarettes and the kiwi and strawberry gum he chewed to mask the scent of them on his breath. It didn’t work completely, it more meshed together into its own unique flavour.

It felt nice. “Feels normal.” You said it like it was a bad thing and he can’t understand why. “What’s so wrong with that?” You tried to shake your head. Shake some sense into yourself. You were blowing it. “Kiss me again.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He pushed his lips against yours, harder than the first time, much harder. Barely leaving a gap between you. Suffocating you with his kiss. He feels like this time he has to try harder; he needed to give you his all. There had to be more. 

His lips glided over yours, his lips rough but still careful. His tongue poking out slowly, licking gently over your bottom lip. You part it instinctively and the second his tongue slithered across your teeth, you finally felt it. You don’t know why it took you till the second try. You’re so grateful you felt it at all, but you were panicking for a second, thinking you’d made this huge mistake because how could you let yourself fall for him after all this nonsense? Then you felt it, that spark kicking you to life. That fire in your belly, burning you up inside, begging for his coolness to dampen it down. You fucking needed him.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails tucking into them just a little. He’s feeling the heat radiating from you, your energy pouring into him. He’s smiling against your mouth as your tongue meets his briefly. He just knows that this time, he’s got you. “You had me worried there for a second.” He panted, not wanting to pull away but needing to say something. You kissed him over and over, distracting him. Now you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “I know, I’m so cruel.” He smirked, kissing you back just as vigorously, hand coming to your throat, resting gently on it before tilting your chin up towards him.

You captured his eyes, so dark, nearing black in the dim light. If it weren’t for the golden flecks you’d be convinced they really were that dark. “Had to be sure.” He pecked your lips. “Yeah?” You did the same. “Yeah.” He’s so close that every time his eyes closed and reopened, you felt his lashes fanning your cheeks. “And now?” He asked so hopefully, heart on the line as he waited on your answer. You wanted to make him wait, torture him a little, not tonight, tonight you were kind enough to put him out of his misery. “Now I want you.” You said. He could have punched the air with excitement. 

You’re kissing again. Scrambling around, his body lowered on top of you, one hand resting on your cheek, the other grazing your hip bone. His body shuddered when you whimpered under the weight of him. You let your legs widen as he slipped between them, all before he lifted your thigh, depositing it safely around his waist. You prayed that he didn’t immediately feel the dampness in your shorts but you’re not the only one struggling.

His hard on rubbed into you, your lips parting with surprise. “Fuck.” He muttered, momentarily halting your make out session, the heat between your thighs overwhelming him. You sensed his embarrassment, his cheeks burning with it. “Me too.” You breathed. Lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose as your hand slipped between you, coming down to cup his bulge boldly through his shorts. 

The groan he released is sinful, maybe even painful. He felt big. He felt impossibly big. He wouldn’t fit in your hand, maybe not even in the two of them. He thrust into your hand when he felt you touch him. It was his first instinct; he couldn’t fight it. “Shit, sorry.” You caught his lips, tugging his bottom one between your teeth, releasing it slowly. “Gonna move my hand, want you to do it again.” If he thought he was embarrassed at his neediness before, it was about to get a whole lot more mortifying. 

Your hand moved away, he was grinding his hips down into you as you’d asked, and you felt the way his cock jumped into action. “Baby.” You panted. He’s sure his heart is going to explode, maybe his cock too, probably that first. “Say it again.” He needed it. “Baby.” You kissed him. He’s rocking his hips into you, you started rotating your own, rubbing yourself over his cock, hand moving out of the way. “Baby, baby, fuck.” He’s covered your lips with his, nose mashed up against you, you can’t breathe, you don’t even want to, you wouldn’t miss the feeling. All of this felt so much more important. “Feel so good.” You whine. He never would have thought you’d be so vocal. You didn’t seem like the type. Thought you’d be a bit of a brat maybe but not this, not confident and sexy and so sure of what you wanted. He could love that; he could love you. 

“More, need more.” You’re eyes rolled back when he’s lifting your hips with both hands, pulling your core over him. His cock slipping through your folds through too many barriers of clothing. “Shit Ed.” You felt the sensation of fire burning into you, setting you alight. You’re dizzy and hot and you just felt so good against him. The friction of his shorts might have been frustrating, but it was also, so rewarding. It was such a good roughness against your clothed mound. “Are you?” He can’t even say it, too busy dragging you over his cock. “I’m, fuck, Eddie.” He doesn’t stop, not for a second, not for a beat. He makes you ride it out. He’s so stupidly proud of himself. He’d barely touched you and you’d come undone. You’d actually fucking came. “Fucking unreal for me.” He slowed himself down before he followed a similar path to destruction. 

He’s pushing your hips back down, letting your body sink into the mattress, pulling away from you to catch a breath. “I can’t believe that.” Your hand floats through your hair combing it back. He’s resting back on his knees, still between your legs. “You’re so fucking hot.” His eyes don’t look anywhere but your face. Your shirt is half way up your chest, bare tits poking out for him to see and yet, he doesn’t look.

You can’t say you share the same sentiment. Your eyes raced to the outline of his erection in them grey basketball shorts. You drank in the sight before you and your teeth clamped down into your lower lip. He reached down to squeeze your thigh. “My eyes are up here.” He gestured with his index and middle finger. You smirked up at him. “Kind of wish they weren’t.” You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” You nodded. Eyes falling back to his very, large problem that he now palmed through his clothing. Shit, even his own hand wouldn’t cover him.

“Gonna keep looking or do you feel like helping?” His voice was awfully steady for someone ready to come apart at the mere thought of your touch. “You want me to?” You’re not sure what you’re asking. “Need you to.” He said. You sat yourself up. “Gonna take this shirt off me first?” You looked up at him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen, somehow so innocent even though you were anything but. “Of course, I am.” His hands didn’t waste any time lifting the material off over your head. You felt the bite of a chill rush over you, your nipples hardening, perking up with it. “So, very, sexy.” He can’t believe his luck. You’re amazed that you don’t feel shy, being so exposed to him. Guess that was good, it felt natural, you felt safe. 

“Gonna help you.” You warned, hands slipping down into his shorts. You gasped at the immediate contact with his bare skin. “No underwear.” He smirked down at you. “Fucking slut.” Your hand cupped him just like before, yeah, definitely needs more than one hand. “You love it.” He chanted “I do.” You confirmed, squeezing him hard. The rush of air that left his mouth, oh it made this all so worth it. You tried to be bolder, you took his length in your palm for the first time. You gripped him tight and moaned in unison. He moaned at the feeling of finding home in your soft touch. You moaned; at the way your hand can’t even wrap around him fully. He’s too thick, too girthy, there wasn’t enough of you to take it all. 

“Do something.” He urged, forehead leaning on yours for stability more than anything else. “Ah right, that’s what I was doing.” You play as you sprang to action, your hand lifting to the throbbing head of his cock, letting the trickles of beaded cum roll into your palm before you can cover him in it using it whilst you twist your hand up and down his length. “Ohh, fuck.” It came out gravelly. He’d never thought much of hand jobs, said no to many throughout his life, never being worth the time, never feeling as good as his own hand. This though. You. Your hand. You touched him and he swore your hand was made to hold his cock. Even if that sounded ridiculous, there had to be some way of it being true because he felt so good. His cock was slick and hot, it glided through your grip with ease and your tightened fist on him, it was incredible.

You knew to tug him hard at the base, to loosen around his tip. To constantly use his pooling arousal to your advantage. You worked his cock better than anyone else could, maybe even better than him. You weren’t rushing, you didn’t wank him hard begging for it all to be over, getting bored of the feeling. No, you just touched him. Switching your pace. Listening to his hot little sounds. Paying attention to what made him twitch, what made him rut his hips into your palm. You loved touching him, you wanted to touch him forever, every which way you could. 

He started fucking your hand. He’s not sure he can stop himself and you’re so turned on by it you actually moan. “What are you doing to me?“ He’d never felt like this before. You’d made him so weak. He was desperately thrusting into your fist like a pathetic little virgin, and you were moaning. He had to be making this up, you weren’t real, none of this could have been real. “Fuck Ed.” You’re soaked at the idea of it all, you even clenched down on fucking nothing, the thought of him inside you instead of just the palm of your hand, it’s too much to bear. “Need to fuck me.” You quicken your pace, your hand tugging at him desperately. “Fuck, fuck. Stop, you gotta stop.” He doesn’t want you to, God knows he doesn’t, but if you don’t, he’s gonna fucking bust all over your perfect little hand. 

He forced your hand out of his shorts and you have the audacity to pout up at him when he does. “You’re something fucking else.” He pushed you back, your head drops happily onto your pillow. “Something good I hope.” You toyed with him, and he is about to lose it. “Take these off.” He tugged at your own shorts, and you didn’t budge. “Off.” He commands, climbing off the bed, feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the hotel room. 

You shifted behind him, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs, tossing the material to the general vicinity of your shirt. Your hands are once again in your hair, combing through it with nerves just eating away at you. You ached for him. Your thighs were squeezed so tightly shut you thought he might never pry them open again. You were on edge, literally dying there waiting. He’d dropped his shorts; they’d hit the ground quietly. He stepped out of them quickly, hand lifting to touch himself, he let out a quiet hiss when he did. He was so turned on, cock so tight and hot in his hand, he’d bury himself in you and never wish to leave. 

He climbed back onto the bed, settling on his knees like he had before. His hand rolled delicately across his tip, soaking himself still, using his own arousal to ready himself for you. His cock had a wet sheen in the light. You thought it looked even more delicious now with a coating like that. Perhaps your legs would part after all. “You sure?” He thinks he knows your answer, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t check. This had all been so perfect, better than he could have ever imagined because God, his imagination wasn’t half as creative enough to make you up. You were far better than anyone he’d ever known. The more he knew you, the better you got. Each and every layer, prettier or wittier or more perfect. You must have been real. Real and a gift made just for him because you had him hook line and sinker. He was dumb to credit himself for thinking he imagined you a few moments ago.

“Fuck me.” You spoke. He shook his head. Leaning over you, tip throbbing hard when it breached your walls for the first time before making a heady retreat, running through your slick, wet, lips instead. “Can’t.” He said. Running his cock up and down, eyes flickering shut, throat drying with his pure fucking thirst for you. “Why not?” You furrowed your brow. He’s right there, all he had to do was enter you. You could just lift your hips and he’d slip his fat cock inside. “Can’t call this fucking, not when you feel this good.” You think you might have passed out when pushed inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” He covered your lips to catch your moan. He didn’t think about the fact he’d be sinking in further, bottoming out, pelvis to pelvis with you when he did. 

Your legs wrapped around him so tightly your heels began to dig into his tasty, round backside. You fasten him in place intentionally. You needed to feel him. Needed to feel him in his entirety, pulsing inside you. He bit down on your shoulder till he tasted a metal zing of fresh blood, he’d apologise at a later date. For now, he needed it. You were sopping wet around him, engulfing his cock in a warm, tight sleeve. With each breath you took he slipped a little bit further inside. You felt so full you’d felt him bulging in your stomach, so far inside you it even hurt you.

“I need to move, gotta let me move.” He locked eyes with you before you nodded, loosening your legs, letting him withdraw his hips, pulling right back away from you, tip nearly leaving the crevice of your wetness. Then he pushed back in, all the way, hips against hips and you fucking moaned. You moaned so loud he thought he hurt you, ready to withdraw and panic at that thought. But then you lifted your hips to meet his. You meet his next thrust and then the next, and the next. You don’t let him do a damn thing without your involvement. You needed to be in this together because what’s the fucking point if you can’t give each other your all? 

“You’re so wet, soaking me.” You can only sigh, you’re not sorry, he got you so damn good he ought to be proud. “So damn hot. Gonna need to change the fucking sheets.” He rambled on. His hands dig delicious bite marks into your hips. Yours place a similar attack atop his shoulders. “Feel unreal.” You captured his lips in a needy kiss, chest pushing up as your back arched involuntarily. “Very real, so fucking real.” You muttered. As your back arched further, Eddie found a place within you, a sensitive spot he angled into unexpectedly. A place you’d only ever touched yourself. You shook, and you clenched down on him, hard. 

He’d be an idiot not to notice it. You were clamping down so much he worried he’d lose circulation all together. “You want me dead don’t you?” He slammed his hips down into you. “Won’t be happy till I’m not fit for anyone else, that it?” His chest flattened against yours, his cock reaching that angle even more intrusively than before and you’re about to scream for it.

He’s got so much pressure leaning against it you’re about to crumble and he doesn’t even know it. “Eddie.” You panicked, hands snaking into his hair, tugging his brown ringlets. He couldn’t get any closer to you and yet you needed it, wanted him covering you. “Fuck, you’re, fuck are you cumming?“ He leaned his head back, looking down into your eyes, you have tears brimming in them and he can’t believe it, he was so right. “Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice came out so weak, soft, precious, and broken and he thought you sounded like a needy little princess when you begged for him like that. “Anything, anything for you.” He meant it too. 

His hand wrapped around your throat loosely and tenderly as he coaxed your second orgasm from you. Your scream caught in your throat. He kissed you hard, breathing life erratically back into you. The way you tightened around his cock has his eyes roll back into his skull, his teeth biting down hard on your plump, cherry lips. He’s so close to cumming himself, but he will not let himself go until you’ve done it first. He had to make it through. He had to feel the way you came around his dick for the first time. Needed it imbedded in his brain as the religious experience it certainly felt like it would be.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you’re not even aware you’re yelling his name out there. You just do it. That’s what gets him in the end. Your pretty little voice wrapping around his name, securing the idea that he was in fact the guy who’d made you crumble into a mess in these sheets, twice. It was all him. “Where, fuck, where do you-“ he can’t even say it, can’t get the words out. “In me, need it in me, please baby.” 

He did as you asked, his hips pulsing into you, cock sputtering, leaking his hot cum inside you. You felt it all. Deep inside, covering you, damning you. You were claimed from the inside out. There wasn’t a single piece of you that wasn’t marked as his now. If you hadn’t felt full before, you certainly did now. His cum filling you entirely, anything his cock couldn’t previously reach was now pressured by him cum flooding inside you and it was so unbelievably good. You sighed heavily at the thought of it. “So, fucking good.” You muttered. Him filling you was just so erotic to you. He’d felt exactly the same because of course he did, he was made for you. He loved that you’d let him take you like that. It felt heavenly pouring himself into you, coating you in his colours. Pulling out might just be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. 

His body covered yours. He’s no strength to hold himself above you, but no way of pulling away just yet. You’d not minded his weight at all. You’d actually enjoyed it, felt comforted by it. Even if your bodies were sweat soaked and desperately in need of another shower, it felt nothing but perfect lying here a little longer. Your fingers massaged into his scalp, he hummed at the relief of your touch. His breathing slowed down, softly blowing over your chest where his head lay comfortably.

You decided you loved the sound of him breathing. You can’t explain exactly why that is, but it offered you some kind of comforting stimulation that you think you’d listen to happily for hours. The mere existence of him, being enough to soothe you. “So that, uh-“ he licked his bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. “That happened.” You heart leaped and you know he felt it. “Don’t make it weird.” You nearly begged. “I’m not making it weird.” You poked his head. “You’re making it weird.” You accused, poking him again. “Would you stop?”

He lifted his head this time to avoid another attack. Well fuck. If he thought you looked beautiful before, it had nothing on the way you looked now. You were flustered and tired, your eyes wet with tears and probably sweat and yet, gorgeous. “You’re staring.” He hated you. “I can’t stop.” He’s lying. He could, he just never wanted to. “What will people think?” You gasped. “How will we tell them?” He continued, following your train of thought like he’d conjured it himself.

“Well, what do we actually have to tell? You know, to get our story straight.” He knew that was your not-so-subtle way of asking what you were, after all of this, but he doesn’t mind it because he’d also liked to know. As cliché as it was. It really did happen that fast. “Well,” he rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, watching as your face leaned into his touch. “Your family think we’re in love so, that’s kind of handled.” You laughed. “That you’re way of confessing your love for me?” You dig with a smile. “No.” Yes. But it was way too soon to verbalise that. Sure, you’d known him for a while, but this weekend was the closest you’d ever been. And yeah, he may have felt it in his bones, but he wasn’t crazy enough to admit it to you. Jesus Christ. “So, it’s just, everyone else.” He nodded, then repeated after you. “Everyone else.” Easier said than done. 

“What if I uh, slip you another 200?” He rolled his eyes. Only you would ask that. “Oh, because I haven’t whored myself out enough?” You grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits baby.” He nudged your nose with his own. “No but seriously, what would 200 get me?” You tried to deadpan but the smile refused to leave you. “I’m refunding it by the way.” You feigned shock. “My money not good enough for you Munson?” He looked at you with a ‘you really asking me that?’ look on his face. Though technically, you hadn’t actually given the money to him yet. “Only asked for it because I knew it’d piss you off sweetheart.” That hadn’t surprised you at all. “I dragged my ass to the bank for nothing.” He thought he might howl with laughter. 

“You got cash out?” There he goes, those chubby fucking cheeks, the crinkling eyes. “You actually withdrew 200 bucks for me?” You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. “I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE YOUR BANK DETAILS EDWARD!” You yelled and he laughed harder, nearly rolling off you all together until he remembered he was still very much inside of you. “I’m so fucking dumb.” You face palmed with the embarrassment of it all. “You kinda are.” He agreed. He knew you’d hate his lack of support. “I like em dumb though.” He also knew he deserved the flick you gave him. “We’ll get you to the bank tomorrow, don’t you worry babe.” This time you didn’t flick him. “Not going anywhere tomorrow.” You sighed, arms wrapping around him. His stomach fluttered when you held him like that. “Why, what you got planned?“ He nuzzled his face happily into your breast, his spare hand squishing the other nicely. “Gonna get my fucking money’s worth that’s what.” 

[mbappeslover]

écoute chérie // kylian mbappé | part one.

kylian mbappé x f! reader.

saw this edit on tiktok, they edited mbappé to écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer and… i fell in love. the song is sooo mbappé.

y/n got the job as kylian’s personal assistant. his previous assistant fired for unknown reasons. y/n had heard about kylian mbappé and his terrible attitude. she wasn’t excited to work with him. but, turns out.. he’s actually not that bad.

read part 2 here.

read the finale here.

credits to the editor: strkvoid on tiktok, they did such an amazing job <3, my favorite mbappé edit.

“y/n y/l/n, you’ve been accepted!” the notification pinged and appeared at the top of your screen. you clicked on it so fast.

one week ago.

“y/n, have you seen this? kylian mbappé’s management is looking for a new personal assistant.” your friend tells you during a phone call.

“oh really?” you ask.

“yes… and, you qualify for it! like a 100 percent. wait, i’m gonna send you the link.”

you received the message and clicked on the link, it was indeed an exclusive offer/application to becoming the footballer’s new personal assistant.

“y/n, you should really go for it. the pay is amazing and i’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience.”

you skim through the countless pages and listing of requirements and benefits the job offered. plus, you were indeed qualified for the job.

“mmm… i don’t know. everyone talks about how much of an asshole kylian mbappé is. how he’s a jackass with a shitty attitude and an unbearable ego, bigger than the universe.” you explain, iffy about this whole thing.

“oh please, it’s not like you’re gonna be all lovey dovey with the guy. imagine how much money you’ll be making. you want to quit your current job right now anyway.” your friend says, trying her hardest to convince you.

you laugh. “okay, you’re right. i’ll call you back, i’m gonna read through all the paper work, submit my résumé and update you on it.”

you weren’t too serious about it, you doubted that you’d actually get the job.

everything just got real. definitely serious.

you got the job, you were on call with the footballer’s management, and you were now getting familiarized with his schedule.

“alright, ms. y/l/n, we’ve spoken through all the things you’ll be needing to do for kylian. i’ve sent you an email of a file that lists all the things you must do for him. now, all we need is for you to sign a few things. it’ll take you about ten minutes. it wasn’t much before but… some things went down. so, we had to make a few arrangements.” kylian’s manager stated.

you just nod taking everything in and trying to process it at once.

you heard the ping from your phone, signaling you got the email.

“okay, perfect. today, i’ll show you around psg and tomorrow you’ll be meeting kylian.”

a tour guide took you around the stadium, briefly explaining different areas and rooms in the building to you.

it was a long day. you were now in bed, aimlessly scrolling on instagram because you couldn’t sleep.

you’re nervous. why?

the athlete you’ll be attending to is possibly the biggest asshole in paris, france and you’re gonna have to deal with it.

you decide to go on his instagram.

“k. mbappé, 94.1m Followers, 389 Following, 1204 posts.”

you click on the first photo presented and begin scrolling down.

in almost all photos he’s smiling, with a caption full of emojis and empowering words.

he looks so… sweet?

is this the same guy with the so-called “bad attitude?”

you fell asleep.

after scrolling through all one thousand, two hundred and four posts by kylian mbappé.

your alarm rang, loudly.

you groaned, getting up to prepare yourself for the day.

after getting dressed, you received a call from kylian’s manager.

“good mornin-“ you tried greeting politely, before cut off.

“good morning dear, i need you here in ten minutes.”

“it’s only 9:00, i was told to be there at 9:30. did something happen?” you ask, exasperated.

“yeah, well, kylian decided to come earlier than we thought and right now, he wants an organic green juice from le juice. it has to be from juicerie.” the manager explains.

“le juice is like fifteen minutes from where i am right now, how will i be able to make it in ten?” you say, slightly panicking.

“well, find a way. mbappé cares about his health, a lot. all that stuff about nutrition and good food is the key to health. if you didn’t know, now you do. be here in ten, please darling!” the managers says in a cheery voice before hanging up.

first day on the job and they were already trying to make the impossible, possible.

you quickly go on the website for le juice and order and paid online for a medium organic green juice for pick-up.

you catch a taxi and head over to le juice. it was a five minute drive because it was still a bit early and the streets hadn’t start to fill yet, luckily.

you ask the taxi driver if they could wait for a quick second while you grab the order from inside.

the taxi driver fussed a bit yet ultimately decided to wait.

again, you were able to swipe up the juice since the shop just opened and customer didn’t pile up in the juice bar.

you hop back in the taxi and make your way to the stadium.

“tsk, your first day on the job and you’re seven minutes late. you better hurry up and get in there.” the manager scolds you once you arrive, outside the office room of psg.

“well, you should’ve told me i would have to be here earlier, you cunt.”

you didn’t actually say that, you thought it, but, you didn’t say it.

you quickly enter the room, with a little a stumble, almost tripping on your own feet. you quickly laugh at how much of a mess you are.

the room is packed, there’s people everywhere, most likely other staff members. you see at the corner of the room, there’s a small crowd of people surrounding something.

you squeeze in between people, trying to find a way through.

“excuse me. yea, sorry. my apologies. let me just squeeze in. i’m sorry.” you murmur out while gliding through the people in the packed room.

that’s when you were faced with him.

he’s exactly like those photos on the internet, a vibrant face, smiling while the people around him asks him questions like how’s his morning, would he like anything to drink, trivial things to simply make conversation. 

the infamous kylian mbappé.

you cleared your throat, put on your most brightest smile and polite voice.

“mr. mbappé, this is your organic green juice.” you say, putting your hand out to give the drink.

the area becomes quiet as the attention shifts on you.

you briefly look around confused.

and the smile that was once on kylian’s face had disappeared.

it was replaced with a hard stoned, cold glare.

“the fuck?” you thought.

he grabs the drink from your hand, not even thanking you before continuing the small talk with staff around him.

you try your hardest not to make a face at his rude behavior.

you brush it off.

literally.

brushing yourself off, taking a deep breath. putting on a polite voice again, you introduce yourself.

“hello, my name is y/n. i’m sure your manager already told you about me, i am your new personal assistant. if you ever need me, for anything, feel free to let me know. that’s my job, of course.” adding in a little humor to lighten the atmosphere, reaching your hand out.

once again, the area of the room goes silent. his smile falls once again and he slowly turns to look at you.

“d'accord. où est ma paille?” (okay. where is my straw?)

the crowd laughs.

you reach out your bag, handing him the straw before walking away.

“the rumors are true. he’s insufferable. literally an asshole. a two-faced scum? who even treats someone like that? no wonder his old assistant left. who’d want to deal with that.” you were now on the phone with your friend who encouraged you to apply.

“y/n, calm down. i know it was frustrating, but, it’s just your first day. at least quit after you get your first check.” your friend said, trying to comfort you.

yea, that’s right. y/n cried. cried very hard. today was extremely difficult.

you followed kylian everywhere, attempting to tend to his needs, but, all he did was be rude or downright ignore you.

“sir, how are you feeling? would you like for me to schedule a massage for you, in case you are feeling tense?” you ask.

“do i look tense to you?”

“mr. mbappé, your manager has informed me that you have a meeting on friday at 3pm.”

“who makes meetings on friday? i’m not going, you’re going. i have to relax.”

“mr. mbappé-“

“please stop bothering me. aren’t you my assistant? why must you keep calling out my name, you’re here to handle my business.”

“i don’t even know what i did to him? why should i get treated like this? it makes no sense.” you complain to your friend.

“i’m sure it’ll get better eventually… hopefully.”

“yea, hopefully.”

it’s been two weeks, working as kylian mbappé’s personal assistant.

to say y/n felt drained would be an understatement.

fourteen endless days of talking to a brick, solid wall.

a brick, solid wall with snarky remarks and a stinky attitude.

“mr. mbappé, your driver is outside waiting for you. he has the specific refreshments you asked for.” y/n says.

“alright, walk me to the car.” he says.

y/n’s concerned because he usually just nods and walks to the car himself.

as the two makes their way to the car, kylian starts conversation.

“your name, y/n, right?”

this is weird.

so weird.

“yes, sir. y/n y/l/n.”

“alright y/n, can you cook?”

“yes, i can cook, why?” y/n questions.

“génial. je veux que tu cuisines pour moi. (great. i want you to cook for me).” kylian says nonchalantly.

y/n stops dead in her tracks as kylian continues to walk.

“so, now i have to cook for this man? really?

well, it is your job…

oh, shut up. i know that!

just saying…” you internally battle with yourself.

he turns around, “well are you coming? i don’t have all day and i’m starving.”

you snap out of it, speed-walking to catch up.

“why are you standing by the door?”

you were in your bosses house. well, it’s not out of the ordinary because you are his personal assistant.

however, this is a drastic jump from a few days ago, when he didn’t even want you near him.

“are you okay, mr. mbappé? it looks pretty bad. i can go get you some soothing gel!”

he hurt himself pretty badly while trying to perform a trick during practice.

“no! i’m fine. don’t touch me, move!”

he spat out, stumbling to get up by himself.

you back up in utter shock.

other staff runs up to offer him support as he limps away.

mbappé’s pov:

his new personal assistant stood at the door, looking like a lost puppy that was left for dead on a rainy night.

kylian knew he was being hard on her, harsh to her. but, he couldn’t let his guard down.

he refused to let history repeat itself.

“why are you standing by the door?” he asks.

y/n seemed to be lost in her thoughts when he said that because she snapped up and made her way into the house after taking off her tory burch sandals.

kylian observed the woman as she subtly looked around the place before making her way to the kitchen.

he couldn’t lie. she was beautiful. she could be on the cover of a makeup magazine because of how natural and pretty her features were.

he wishes he could see her smile. most of the time she wears a frown on her face, sometimes a pout that kylian finds endearing. he wouldn’t show that though. or.. say it, ever.

her hair looked so soft, her voice was so nice on the ear. she had a nice figure, ones of a dancer, delicate, light on the feet.

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she said. he loved her voice, utterly. like a bee, wanting to drown in honey. he wanted to drown in her voice, listen to it forever.

“call me kylian.”

for some reason, he finds himself wanting to get to know her. get closer to her.

y/n’s pov:

‘oh God, he’s staring.’ you think to yourself.

y/n has made her way to the kitchen after taking in the penthouse. it was so nice and luxurious. she wondered how much or how long she’d have to work before ever living in a place like this.

she began looking in the cabinets, taking out a few pots and pans before realizing her boss didn’t even tell her what he wanted to eat.

“mr. mbappé, what exactly would you like for me to cook.” y/n says, an attempt to ease the tension.

‘he’s still staring. what the hell is wrong with him?’

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she repeats.

he looks you straight in the eye.

“call me kylian.”

you two continue making eye contact, you thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but, it’s rather… nice? it feels nice. it’s the first he’s ever actually acknowledged you.

you break the eye contact, clearing your throat.

“alright, if you don’t have anything set in mind, i’ll just cook and try to make do with whatever you have here.” you say.

it’s been about 50 minutes and you’re finally done cooking. you made steak & farfalle pasta with creamy tomato sauce.

kylian went into his bedroom since you began cooking and hadn’t come out. but, you did hear faint music coming from his room.

you begin to plate his food nicely, setting it on the kitchen island with a glass cup of ice water.

luckily, you clean along the way while cooking so there wasn’t a mess. you were tired, you wanted to get home and unwind.

you walk up to his bedroom door, about to knock, when the door swings open.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” you say slightly surprised.

he doesn’t say anything.

but, you could care less. your attention shifts to the song being played in the background.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” you say excitingly, completely forgetting that you’re at work. technically.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he replies with a small chuckle.

‘did he just chuckle? with me? did kylian mbappé, my rude ass boss. chuckle… with me?’

you smile, looking at the small smile that adorned his face as he chuckled.

you won. you’re winning mbappé over.

mbappé’s pov:

he was in his room, sipping on some expensive red wine from a brewery that gifted him some.

he felt at peace, moments like these to himself. drinking something, listening to music, letting loose.

not only that, but, most likely, he could smell the aroma from the food his personal assistant, y/n was making for him.

its been a little while, he was gonna go check on the food.

his favorite song comes on.

“partir, venir, mourir, courir.”

what a lovely song. he sings to himself, along the chant before making his way to the door.

opening it, there she was.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” she says, obviously a little spooked.

he doesn’t care about that, though. the more he looked at her, the more time he spent around her, the harder it got to suppress his obvious attraction to the woman.

he visibly sees something click in her head as she moves from his sight to get a better hearing of what was being played.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” she says.

‘God, she’s so cute.’ he thinks to himself.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he says, trying to hold back the ‘awe’ he wants to say so bad.

she smiles.

kylian felt like his heart could explode.

without absolutely zero exaggeration, she has got to have an award for having the most beautiful smile in the universe.

that smile right there—convinced kylian that he would make it his mission to always see that smile as long as y/n’s around him.

y/n turns around, leading him to his meal.

his stomach grumbles as he lay eyes on the food. it looks delicious. better than any five star michelin restaurant he’s been to. would probably taste better as well.

he’s confused, though. there’s only one plate of food.

he turns to y/n.

“where’s your food?”

“oh, i only made food for you, sir-“

“kylian, call me kylian.”

“yes, i’m sorry, kylian.”

“i’m gonna wait here for you to finish your food so i can wash your plate, then i’ll be out your hair, if that’s fine with you, kylian.”

he knows he can’t just let her leave like that.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he thinks he knows what he wants.

“that’s fine. come sit down.” he says, pulling out the chair next to him.

y/n hesitantly makes her way and gets seated. kylian slides over the glass of ice water to her.

“no, it’s for you.” y/n explains.

“i know, but, just drink it. i have some wine in my room.”

“okay, do you want me to go get it and pour some out for you?” y/n says, about to make her way there when kylian gently pulls her down.

“no, no, it’s fine. relax.” he says.

kylian begins eating, almost scarfing the food down.

y/n takes a sip of the water while looking at him eat.

“is it good?” y/n asks.

he stops for a second, chewing and swallowing what’s in his mouth.

“very. best meal i’ve had in a long time, y/n. thank you.” he says with a genuine smile on his face.

y/n smiles back before bringing the glass cup up to her lips and drinking some more water.

“so, y/n, how old are you?” he says, finishing up his food.

“i turned 24 a few months ago.” y/n says.

“really? i turned 24 a few months ago as well.”

“i know that, you’re the star of france.” y/n says with a small smile on her face.

he smiles at her again.

y/n couldn’t take it.

‘this is awfully weird. why is he being so… nice. it was concerning.’ she thinks to herself.

silence takes over the room and the only sound being the fork hitting against the glass plate as kylian takes a bite of the pasta.

“kylian, why are you so mean to me?”

“y/n, i know i haven’t been the nicest to you…”

they say at the same time. they both laugh.

“you go first.” kylian offers to y/n.

“alright, i was asking. why are you so mean to me? did i do.. something.”

kylian sighs deeply, “no y/n, you did nothing wrong, but, a lot happened before that’s making me like that towards you. just know i don’t mean it.” he explain.

“well, what happened?”

“i’ll tell you later.” kylian says finishing the food.

y/n took the plate and glass cup, made her way to the sink and began washing the dishes.

y/n wondered, what was on his mind. what was he thinking about.

too deep in thought to not see her boss, kylian. staking right next to her, leaning on the countertop.

she finishes cleaning the plate and cup.

she turned to her left, her soul jumping out her chest.

“kylian! why are you always sneaking up on people.” y/n said, laughing off the remaining shock with a hand over her heart.

“sorry, sorry, i just like looking at you.” he laughs.

y/n laughs too.

“oh really?”

“OH? REALLY?” she says backtracking because it registered to y/n what he said.

“yes. you’re beautiful.” he says, stepping a teeny closer to the beautiful woman in front of him.

y/n blushes.

“the food was really good as well. i really wish you would’ve ate with me.” he says.

“i’m just your assistant. i don’t want to break any of your boundaries. i respect you.” y/n says.

“i respect you.” kylian replays it in his head.

he already had a slight crush on y/n, but, this was different.

he has a crush on y/n.

“wow, you’re making me feel like shit for treating you the way i did. i respect you, too. say, come over again tomorrow. if you make me something to eat again, i’ll tell you what happened.” he says with a smile on his face.

y/n remains silent. she was thinking.

‘is kylian mbappé flirting with me?’

there’s no way.

yes there is! look at the way he’s looking at you. he wants you!’ you weigh out to yourself.

kylian think it’s adorable. the way y/n constantly looks like a lost puppy.

he bends down a bit, leveling himself to y/n’s height to get her attention.

“everything alright in there?” kylian says.

y/n seems to still be in deep thought when kylian giggles.

he takes his index finger, placing it underneath y/n’s chin, lifting it up.

he looks her in the eye.

he wants to kiss her, her lips look so soft. he’s 100% sure if their lips were to simply graze across one another, he’d still love it. be addicted to it.

y/n looks back into his eyes, feeling her heart beat and her stomach start to flutter.

“deal or no deal?” kylian says as he tilts his head to the side.

y/n eyes drops to kylian’s lips. they were the perfect size and naturally protruded out.

she imagined how it’d feel. probably like a pillow, or, maybe a marshmallow.

y/n eyes make its way back to kylian’s.

she made up her mind.

“deal.” she says before gently removing his finger from her chin. she gathered her bags and made her way to the door, kylian following right behind.

she slipped on her sandals as kylian unlocked & opened the door.

y/n walks out, before turning to kylian who stood by the door.

“goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

they say together.

the two laugh.

“till next time then, goodnight mr. mbappé.” y/n says.

“it’s kylian and i’ll call you tomorrow. make sure you answer. goodnight, y/n.” he says, smiling.

a/n (author’s note):

i am confident in this at all.. i feel like it could be way better but i wanted to hurry and publish something to whoever’s waiting. i’ve been so busy and tired with school :,(. it was supposed to only have one part but i didn’t wanna rush the plot too much.

i tried something new with the whole “pov” thing. and, i hope it’s not too confusing because i switch from 2nd point of view to 3rd a lot.

i guarantee part 2 will be more exciting than this. thanks for reading!

[tonight-i-may-see]

A Drop of Blood. (Spencer Reid x Male!Reader)

Chapter 1 Excerpt (FULL HERE)

(Note: Oh look I'm starting a whole new multi-chapter work after not finishing the one from the last excerpt i posted...)

CW: Descriptions of gore, mentions of addiction, combination of real world and fantasy elements, mdni.

Word count: 856

Dividers by: @cafekitsune x

“Four bodies, all male, all drowned and missing their hearts.” 

“That’s a new one.” Derek’s brows furrow as he looks over the pictures JJ has distributed. Waterlogged corpses with holes just under the ribs, the same on each body. 

“It looks like the hearts were pulled out…” It’s a terrifying thought, but from the silence that falls over the room it would seem Emily is right as she squints in disgust, suppressing a shudder. “These bodies were found weeks apart, why weren’t we called in sooner?” 

JJ has no answer, neither does Hotch, both just shaking their heads with clear disapproval towards the actions of the coastal town’s sheriff. The silence, however, isn’t kept for long. “The heart is usually seen as a symbol of emotion- particularly love and affection…the victims all being male means it’s likely the unsub was betrayed by a former love.” Spencer rambles, gesturing at different aspects of the images.

“A woman scorned…” Rossi adds, nodding slowly, but a frown of disagreement settles on the younger profiler’s features. 

“Actually, with the strength it would take to drown some of these men, it’s more likely we’re looking for another man.”

This time, Emily disagrees. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean we should completely rule out a woman. I mean, tearing out the heart? You said it yourself, that’s revenge. It’s more common for female killers.” 

The sound of a sudden phone ringtone tears the focus from the group. “Hotchner.” It must be serious, because Aaron stands up quite abruptly, starting to shuffle pictures back into folders. “And he’s alive?” That shakes the room, and everyone else follows suit, packing up the papers and getting ready to leave the office. He ends the call with a muttered ‘We’ll be there as soon as possible.’ then turns to the team. “There’s a fifth victim, he’s alive. I want you all ready to go in 20.” 

One 80 minute flight later, the jet lands in New England and the team make their way to a small coastal town in New Hampshire. JJ and Rossi go to the beach where the bodies were washing up, Morgan and Prentiss stay at the station to learn more about the victims, and Hotch and Spencer are taken to the hospital to meet the fifth one…the living one.

The stark white walls and loud machinery in the room are overwhelming to most people, and it’s clear whatever trauma the poor guy had endured was making it much worse for him to listen to. It was almost like he was afraid of it all as they watched him through the window into his room. “He’s pretty much unharmed,” The doctor explains, shaking his head in disbelief. “No water in his lungs and all of his wounds are superficial.” 

“That doesn’t account for his mental state.” Aaron points out quietly. It was worrying, seeing a young man seemingly so panicked by his surroundings. “Do we know his name?”

“No…” He’s told with a sigh. “The poor boy is so shaken up he barely understands what I’m sayin’ half the time.” That wasn’t exactly a hard feat, the doctor was an older guy with a voice that would probably be best described as muffled. Spencer was struggling a bit even with an attempt to lip read. 

“Can we speak with him?” Another sigh escapes the doctor. Small town cases always had this, the people (usually men) who just didn’t trust an outside source intruding on their community. Both agents suppressed the urge to roll their eyes, just as their colleagues were likely doing too.

“Try not to stress him out.” He warns as he lets them in, guiding them over to the bed where the victim silently stares at them, his eyes wide. “Son, these men are with the FBI, alright? They’re gonna help you out.” And with that, the doctor walks out, clearly having had enough of dealing with his mute patient for the time being.

Hotch speaks first, gently and slow enough that the young man can follow along if things are too overwhelming. “I’m Agent Hotchner…this is Doctor Reid…do you know why you’re here?” 

There’s a long pause, and he just stares at the two of them, blinking almost too slowly. Spencer notes that despite being submerged in saltwater less than three hours ago, his eyes aren’t bloodshot. 

“Do you know your name..?” Hotch tries instead, raising an eyebrow. There’s another long silence, but this time the victim hesitantly nods. “Can you tell us your name, please?” This time he shakes his head, and Spencer almost does a double take, his mind going at a million miles a minute to figure out why that was the answer they’d received- perhaps he can’t talk, or is deaf, he is staring directly at them when they speak- or maybe the unsub threatened him, told him he’d hurt him or someone else if he spoke. 

“What do you want us to call you?” Spencer asks, just in case he was correct to think the latter. The young man looks around the room until his eyes lock onto a pamphlet with reviews in it. 

“...Y/n.” 

[euphoricimagination]

Summary: After the match against the U-20 you are given 2 weeks of freedom, with your decision taken, you use this time to tell the truth to as many as you can and spend time with the people you grew to love

Part 11 - Part 12 [Final] -> Masterlist

"So this is where you live, quite big for living alone" you say walking around Nagi's place, you could see the last drops of light from the sunset entering through the windows,

After the match you were given 2 weeks off where you could finally go outside. You were planning to go back to Hyogo, but the guys had planned to do a reunion outside of the project to finally see each other in another ambience. You weren't planning on going, since Hyogo was far away from Tokyo and you didn't want to spend half a day just getting there, but Nagi told you you could stay with him for a day or two.

Now, your relationship with Nagi has been quite different since that kiss. He hasn't asked you out, therefore you weren't technically together, but he's definitely much clingier with you; you didn't mind this, though, it was too soon to actually date each other.

"Yeah, my parents chose it" he says, passing his arms through your shoulders "it's nice, and it's close to a lot of things"

"I noticed, i think i saw an arcade coming here"

"Yeah, there's many actually" he says, kissing your shoulder before moving to his bed, starting a game on his phone. You took some of your clothes out, putting them on top of a dresser he had, you feel uneasiness in your stomach for tomorrow's reactions

"Are you telling them tomorrow?" Nagi asks, you didn't know if he noticed your discomfort or if he knew you that good already

"Yeah, I'm telling them everything. They deserve to know"

"I don't get why though, why does it matter so much?"

"Not everyone is so unbothered like you are Sei" you chuckle, sitting on the bed

"But the princess didn't care either, so why are you so nervous?" He asks once again "agh, i died"

"Chigiri…he's different, it's nerve-wracking telling everyone that what they thought was a lie" you say, your feet tapping the floor nervously. Suddenly Nagi's hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to the window in where the stars were starting to appear

"It'll be fine, don't worry too much about it" he pets your head "By the way, that's Choki, he helps me wake up"

"Don't tell me you purposely touch it to wake up" you chuckle

"I won't tell you then" you both stay like this for a few minutes, you watching the view while Nagi lazily lays his head on your shoulder "...are you sure about leaving Blue Lock?"

"Yeah, i already thought about it, it's the best for me and everyone"

"Then I'll allow it" he presses his head closer in your neck

"I don't need your permission" you chuckle "I'm gonna go to arrange the couch"

"The couch? Why?"

"Where else am I going to sleep?"

"You're not sleeping in the couch" you feel him frown, pulling you down into the bed with him as he puts himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest "you're comfy"

"Thanks" you chuckle, playing with his hair "we should order some food, it's pretty late already"

"What a paiin" he whines, getting his phone anyway.

++

You woke up pretty late, around 10 am, with a pair of arms tightly holding in place and warmth feeling warmth breath in the back of your neck. After eating dinner yesterday Nagi decided to cuddle with you while he plays on one of his consoles, you sitting in between his legs as his hands were right in front of both of you; and once you both got tired, he simply laid you down on your side and proceeded to fall asleep.

"Oi, giant baby" you poke his side, making him groan "you're phone just rang"

"What a pain. Who is it?"

"Isagi, we have to meet them, remember?"

"...Right, ugh, don't wanna" he says, answering his messages before stretching out

You get up from the bed and go to the bathroom to get ready, it was late already, so you went to get ready first assuming Nagi will take forever to do something. Once you leave the bathroom Nagi was already sitting, waiting to use it

"You look pretty" he says to you "it's weird seeing you with a skirt, thought"

"This is the first time you see me with outside clothes, of course it's gonna be weird"

"Well yeah, but i like it either way" he kisses your head while going to the bathroom and getting ready. Once done, him wearing an oversized white hoodie and sweatpants, you both go out "hey, let's go that arcade"

"But we have to meet the guys.."

"They can wait, let's go" he takes your hand, dragging you towards the arcade

You decided to give in, after all it was a vacation, you could enjoy things freely for now. At some point you started playing different games, you were stuck in a claw machine while he was playing Street Fighter since he wanted his online record to go up again. After you got another figurine from one of the machines, you heard a big commotion coming from where Nagi was, noticing a bunch of Blue Lock members.

You started to feel nervous, but at this point there was nothing you could do, so you started walking towards them.

"Hey Sei, i got the figurines" you say, instantly getting intimidated by the fact all eyes went to you, looking at you up and down. Chigiri eyes looked at you amused, crossing his arms as he winks at you

"Oya? Did we interrupt a date, Nagi-chin?" Karasu asks with a cheeky grin. Reo was looking at you confused, almost as if he could recognize you

"How did you score such a hottie? You, out of all people" Otoya adds "hi there cutie"

"But didn't you know we had a reunion? Why did you plan it for today?" Asks Yukimiya

"Maybe she's a classmate?" Asks Bachira

"Nah, I've never seen her at our school" adds Reo

"Eh?" Confused faces appear

"Ok, why don't we let her introduce herself so we can know?" Chigiri says, giving you an encouraging look

"Well first…" you go to sit next to Nagi, your heart beating fast "hi again guys"

"I'm Yn…i was your teammate" you say, even more confusion arises

"Yn…Yn-kun? Is that you?" Isagi asks, making you nod "you were a girl all this time?"

"Yep"

"There's no way…how were you able to play in the match against the U-20 while being a girl?" Otoya asks, Chigiri raising his eyebrow annoyed at the comment

"Well, she's just amazing, isn't she?" Chigiri comes closer to ruffle your hair, you trying to stop him

"So you knew, Chigiri? And you Nagi?"

"Yeah" simply shrugs Nagi, as he keeps playing

"Nagi untied my binder and almost saw my chest, then i told Chigiri cause i felt bad about lying to him" you explain, some heads nodding "Ego ask me to join to help Team Z bloom and give him information, i was only supposed to be until the first round, but i proved to be too good to just…leave the project…sorry for lying to y'all"

"It's alright, it doesn't change much to me, especially if Ego knew" Yukimiya says, smiling to you as he extends his hand "it's nice finally meeting you Yn-chan, you're very pretty"

"Thanks" you shake his hand, smiling at him

"Well, that explains why Nagi suddenly started to act like this with you, nice meeting you Yn-chan, take good care of that idiot for me" Reo says nudging your shoulder with a grin, making you roll your eyes

"It doesn't change much for me either! I like you because of you, not your gender!" Bachira passes his arm through your shoulder, hugging you tightly

"Me too, plus you're a good player" Isagi adds, smiling at you like everyone else "but…why are you telling us now? You could have continued like it was, couldn't you?"

"Well, yeah…but I already reached a conclusion. I'm leaving Blue Lock" you confessed, some eyes widen

"What!? Why? You're soo good to just leave!" Retorts Isagi

"Well, I can't tell you exactly what's coming for the project, but it's supposed to help you out for your futures in a more direct way, and I can't have that. I can't be on a professional team because I'm a girl, and I can't play professionally on a woman's team because I'm too used to playing with dudes, so I'm gonna leave the project"

"Well, it makes sense, now that we won against the U-20 there's probably gonna be a lot more professional teams looking at us, you won't be able to hide this type of things to them" adds Karasu, making you nod

"Anyways! Let's enjoy this free day even more then! Since we won't have Yn-chan with us after this" Bachira stands up, grabbing your hand while taking you with him to the claw machines you previously were in

You end up with a lot of prices given to you after some of the guys won in them; then you move to the darts, where Nagi was forced to "accept his punishment" by being in the front of the darts board while you were losing in a battle with Yukimiya; then you move to pool, where Aryu showed his stylish moves; and then to ping pong, where you took turns to play into teams.

"How about karaoke?" Reo asks, his arms on your shoulders as you guys walk

"Let's go"

"We can hear you sing, darling, that'll be interesting" Reo adds, petting your hair

"Shut it, elite, who says I'm singing" you hit his stomach, making him laugh. In that moment you all noticed some girls coming out of a room angry, Aiku being the reason. You didn't know if you wanted to tell him who you were or not, so you stayed quiet while they exchange some words

"Oh? Who's this girl? Of course you would have a girl already, Mikage-kun, but bringing her with you while hanging out with the boys?" Aiku tells him, you exchange a look with Reo, shaking your head slightly

"She's a friend of mine, she happened to be here today too, so she joined us" he says skillfully, understanding your signs as he takes his arm off

"I see…well then, may I know your name, pretty girl?" Aiku says to you, making you scrunch your face. It wasn't that he was ugly, he sure wasn't, but it still made you awkward

"Yn, nice to meet you" you say shortly

"Pretty name for a pretty lady, want to join me?" Aiku winks at you at the same time you feel a pair of hands sneaking on your waist, pulling you back until your back touched a chest and a chin rest on your head

"We fighting?" Nagi says, beside you were also Yukimiya, Karasu, Otoya and Aryu, all saying some type of comments while the door of the U-20 team opens and reveals the whole team there.

"You okay, pretty?" Nagi whispers at you

"Yeah, just didn't know how to react" you say, taking his hand

They decided to bet dinner with a bowling match, in which you find Barou playing by himself, who ends up joining the match since you weren't playing; after all you decided to not tell them about it. You were waiting for Chigiri to play when Barou sits next to you, looking at you inquisitive

"Oi, you are Yn-kun, aren't you?" He asks you

"Eh?"

"Don't play dumb, you are at Blue Lock with us, only a fool wouldn't be able to tell, even though you have make up on today" he says

"Yeah, that's me" you say, high fiving Chigiri when he does a strike

"So, do you swing to the other side or…"

"I'm a girl, but I'm also leaving Blue Lock now" he nods at the information

"You were good, you scrub, well played" he adds, ending the conversation right there

Nagi does a strike after falling down, which ends up with all of you calling the game off since it was getting late. All of the guys say their goodbyes to you, Bachira and Chigiri hugging the longest, leaving you with only Nagi and Reo left

"So, I'm assuming you're staying the night with Nagi again? It's too late for you to leave to Hyogo now" Reo asks

"Yeah, I don't know if leave in two or three days"

"You can stay with me as long as you want, just saying" Nagi adds, petting your hair

"Yeah, you should stay until our vacation is over, since we won't see you in Blue Lock after this we can enjoy time together and you get to enjoy Tokyo more!" Reo says excitedly

"I still haven't got paid by Ego, so i don't have much money" you answer, you were going to get paid for your work after the two weeks were over

"Don't worry about it, I'll cover you" Reo winks at you "besides, if you need money for anything let me know and I'll give it to you"

"What are you? A sugar daddy or something? Do rich people have the need to spend money?" You raise an eyebrow

"Nah, i just don't mind spoiling my treasure's girl, i can afford it after all" he adds

"I mean…if you insist, I'm not denying that offer" you shrugged, making him laugh

"Alright, let's hang out again, bye!" Reo says when you arrived to Nagi's place, his attendant waiting for him in a limousine in front of his place

"Bye"

"See ya!" Both you and Nagi say, entering his place

You took all your makeup off and put on comfortable clothes, which means you were wearing one of Nagi's hoodies since they basically reach your knee. You got out of the bathroom only to find Nagi laying down on his stomach while playing a game, so you go and lay on top of him to watch him

"...you really can stay here as long as you want, by the way" he interrupts the comfortable silence you were in

"I know, but i do also need to go back to Hyogo soon, i have to go back to classes" you say, your head laying on his back

"Classes are such a pain" he whines "can't you just transfer here? I'll ask Reo to help you out"

"Isn't your school one of the best in the country? I doubt that nepotism can just help me enter"

"You'd be surprised" he says

"Even if i transfer I'll have to wait until next year, besides, we don't know where you'll be next year, maybe Blue Lock gets you an offer in an international club and you'll have to transfer there"

"True, that'd be cool" he pauses, moving both of you with ease until you are laying down in the bed with his head on your chest "then I'll tell them to include you too"

"Eh? Why?" You ask

"I like having you around, i like you" he simply states, as if it was the most normal thing to say, as if it was such a simple thing, as if it didn't make your heart flutter "and you like being around me too, so it's a win win"

"Who says I like being around you that much?" You ask

"Your heart beats and your blushed face speak for themselves" he looks at you, slight smirking on

"Shut up" you hit his head

You spent the rest of these two weeks like this, sometimes you hung out with Reo in his penthouse, sometimes you went to the arcade with Nagi, you even got to meet Chigiri's family and stayed with them for a few days after explaining the whole situation. Now two weeks later, you arrived at the place where they were picking the guys up with Nagi and Reo, since apparently a huge crowd of paparazzi were waiting at the entrance of the project.

"This kinda bring back memories" you say

"It does, we didn't even knew each other back then, who knew we would be friends now" Reo says, ruffling your hair "by the way, i already told Baya-san to pick you up later so she can take you to your house"

"You shouldn't have, it's like 5 hours driving" you say

"She insisted too"

"I don't bel-"

"Ynnnn-chaaan!" A scream interrupts you, soon a pair of arms wrap around you and shake you around "you came to say goodbye to us!"

"I did, I can't just let you forget about me, Bachira"

"I will never!" He hugs you tighter

"You're going to kill her if you keep squishing her" Chigiri takes you out of the embrace, pulling you into a side hug himself "you know, I'm sure you can still come with us, just change into a uniform and hope on"

"I can't, i already know what's waiting for you and it's not gonna be beneficial for anyone" you say, knowing well what the phase two of the project was

"But you want to" Chigiri grabs your shoulder, he was able to tell how wet your eyes were, how your hands were shaking slightly, he knew that you still wanted to be with them

"I do…we can't have it all, can we?" You say, making him hug you harder "don't forget about me when you become a famous pro player, you better maintain me once you have money"

"You already have people ready to maintain you, but if it doesn't work out with him or his best friend, I'll think about it" he jokes back, kissing your temple affectionately "see you after I'll become the best in the world, little one"

"See ya" you chuckle, saying some quick goodbyes to some of the ones that enter the bus when a pair of arms wrap around your waist, a pair of arms that were already used to do this

"I'll see you after this, okay?" Nagi says, pulling you closer

"Of course, I'll make sure to watch you, so keep doing your best"

"Watch me? How?"

"You'll find out soon, just do your best and play amazingly like you always do" you say turning around, fluffing his hair

"I will. See you" he bends down, giving you a quick kiss in the lips

"See you"

You watch him enter the bus as it closes the door right behind him, being the last member to enter. Some of them scream their goodbyes to you while the bus leaves, so you wave back at them until you are sure they can't see you clearly, finally letting the tears roll down your face. You wanted to go with them, you wanted to keep playing with them, you wanted to be on the project, but since Blue Lock was turning into a reality TV for scouting, not only you wouldn't be able to keep up the secret but you also won't be able to join any team, it would do nothing more than waste your time. At least that's what you told yourself to feel better about this.

"Hello" Anri appears beside you, looking at you carefully "Ego-san told me to give you this"

She gives you a package, inside was the same uniform the guys were given before leaving, the same custom size you had for the first phase

"He thought you'd miss them, and since you're technically still part of Blue Lock until a few more minutes, we managed to get you one too. It won't make you less sad, but it's the best we can do to help you"

"Thanks" you hug it, smiling through the tears to Anri, who gives you a hug before walking away.

You'll miss them, of course you'll miss those idiots, but you'll see them again once they're on the top, you know you will.

-The end-

Taglist: @suyaaachin - @anurst - @celestair - @futuristicxie - @miyanaranagikenmal-intp - @kaldurahms-lover

[gracies-baby]

Hey!!! Can you write a Gracie Abrams x female reader. The reader is a couple of years younger than Gracie. She is 20, an actress and comes from a rich family in Italy. The reader is known to be a bad girl and a player. She changes girls like she changes he clothes basically but she is very kind and adorable deep down. and then when she meets Gracie, y/n falls in love with her actually and is not a player anymore but Gracie was only with her as a dare to break her heart as no one has before. Angst with a happy ending.

Begin Again

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

———————————————————

Breaking! Italian actress Y/n L/n and American singer Sabrina Carpenter call it quits after 3 month relationship! Fans heartbroken after this news

Comments:

We all knew this was coming. Hardly news worthy.

I give her a week before she's got someone new.

She's literally only 20 and she's had like 20 different girlfriends 💀

"They all think I'm a slut" Y/n rants to her friend as she reads the comments on the article.

"Who cares what they think? Your fans love you. These people just need to hate on successful women to feel accomplished" her friend, Jenna replies.

"I dunno, what if they're right? I mean, I do date a lot more than any other 20 year old" Y/n continues, stopping when she gets a notification from instagram, seeing someone had messaged her.

Gracieabrams

Hey, I know you don't know me and we've never spoken at all but I just wanted to see if you were okay? I heard the news. Breakups are hard. I also wanted to see if you maybe wanted to have dinner with me sometime?

"Gracie Abrams just asked me out" Y/n says, showing her phone to Jenna.

"Seriously? Go! Say yes!"

"I just got out of a relationship though. What are people gonna say?" Y/n asks as she nervously stares at her phone.

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is your happiness. Gracie could make you happy. Just try one date"

"..fine. She is really cute" Y/n replies as she types on her phone.

Y/n-L/n

Hi! Thanks so much you're so sweet! I'm okay, thanks for asking. I would love to have dinner with you btw. Let me know when you're free!

"Great! My job here is done! I gotta go now though, I'll see you tomorrow" Jenna says as she walks out of her friend's apartment.

Gracieabrams

Does tomorrow work for you? If not I can clear my schedule

Y/n-L/n

Tomorrows great! Just tell me the time and place and I'll be there

The two girls stay up talking until going to sleep, waiting for the next day.

—

Y/n

She's not here. I think I got stood up

Jenna

You definitely did not get stood up. I'm sure she'll be there soon. Just wait a few more minutes

As soon as Y/n gets the text, she feels someone take the seat opposite her.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late, I slept through my alarm and I had to pick out an outfit and it was a huge thing. I hope you weren't waiting too long" the brunette says as she takes her jacket off and hangs it on the back of her chair.

"No, not long at all. How are you?" Y/n asks with a kind smile as the two order their coffees at the counter.

"I'm great! I'm releasing an album next week, that's going well. How are you?"

"I'm.. okay. You really lifted my spirits though" Y/n says, sipping her coffee.

"That's great to hear. I've seen what everyone's been saying about you. It's such bullshit. I mean, sometimes relationships don't work out, you know? It's not your fault. Well, I don't know what happened, but I can guess it's not your fault" Gracie speaks, smiling at Y/n gently as the two walk out of the coffee shop, spotting paparazzi a few metres away.

"Heads up" Gracie says, putting her head down as she takes Y/n's hand in hers.

"So, how's a second date sound?" Gracie asks nervously.

"A second date with you sounds amazing, Gracie" Y/n replies with a soft blush.

"Great! I'm busy tomorrow but how's Friday sound?" Gracie asks with an excited grin.

"Fridays perfect, I'll see you then" Y/n replies, leaning in to kiss her lips only to kiss her cheek at the last minute, leaving the brunette disappointed.

"Play your cards right and there's more where that came from" Y/n says before gently closing the door, leaving the taller girl on the other side of it.

Y/n turns on her phone when she begins getting slammed by notifications.

Y/n L/n seen with singer Gracie Abrams leaving popular coffee shop hand in hand. New romance brewing?

Comments:

Literally not even a week after Sabrina

Gracie girl get out while you can

She was probably cheating on Sabrina ngl

Y/n reads the comments as tears fill her eyes. She opens her contacts and calls the first person she thinks of.

"Gracie? Can you come back?" She pleads, voice breaking.

A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door. Y/n opens it only to fall into the brunettes arms, Gracie wrapping her arms around her and holding tight.

"I'm sorry, I know we just met but you're the first person I thought to call" Y/n rambles only for Gracie to stop her.

"It's okay. Don't apologise. You can call me whenever you want"

"Everything they're saying about me.. you don't think it's true, do you?"

"Of course I don't! I don't know you that well, but I do know you're not a slut" Gracie replies, guiding Y/n to the couch.

Gracie continues to calm her down, waiting until she falls asleep before leaving the apartment.

The two girls go on a couple more dates before making it official, Gracie asking the shorter girl to be her girlfriend on a late night picnic date.

—

"Gracie? Are you home?" Y/n asks, opening the door to her girlfriend's apartment when she received no answer. She goes to her girlfriend's room but stopes when she hears talking.

"Gracie, she deserves to know. You love her don't you? And she loves you, just tell her" a woman's voice says from inside.

"I can't do that. She would leave me if I did" Y/n opens the door to see her girlfriend standing with Olivia.

"What's going on?" Y/n asks nervously looking between the two.

"I'm gonna go. Gracie has something to tell you" Olivia says before leaving the apartment.

"What do you need to tell me?"

"Okay.. so, uh, just remember that I love you so much. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. And you love me, right?" Gracie asks, holding her girlfriend's hands.

"Of course, what's wrong?"

"Um, when I asked you out.. it was because Olivia dared me to okay? But that doesn't change the fact that I love you now!"

"What? So what was the plan, you were gonna break my heart after getting me to fall in love with you? How could you do this?! I trusted you! I confided in you!" Y/n exclaims, voice breaking.

"You can still trust me! I will still listen to everything you say! This doesn't change anything!" Gracie pleads, tears running down her face.

"No Gracie! It changes everything! You didn't actually want to be with me! You thought I was a slur just like everyone else!" Y/n runs out of the apartment in tears.

"Y/n wait!" Gracie yells but the girl is already gone.

Y/n L/n seen leaving girlfriend Gracie Abrams apartment in tears. Is this the end for the couple?

Comments:

Y/n hit the three month mark 💀

Who tf would break up with Gracie Abrams

If Y/n doesn't want Gracie I'll have her

After days of Y/n ignoring her calls, Gracie decides to go to her apartment. She knocks on the door, only for Jenna to open it.

"What do you want?" She asks coldly as she stares at the girl.

"Please. I just need to talk to her. 5 minutes" Gracie pleads before she hears Y/n's voice.

"Who is it?" She asks her friend, stopping when she sees the girl at the door.

"Y/n please. You're not answering my calls. I just need to talk to you"

"You need to leave"

"No. Let her come in" Y/n cuts her friend off, watching as she steps aside for the taller girl to walk in.

"You have five minutes" Jenna says before leaving the room, giving the girls privacy.

"Y/n. I know I hurt you but that doesn't change the fact that I love you now. I love you so much. Please believe me" Gracie says, taking the girls hands only for her to pull away.

"How can I believe you? Our relationship was built on a lie!"

"If I didn't love you, why wouldn't I have left you sooner? Why would I have stayed with you this long?" Gracie says, watching as the other girl steps away from her.

"I can't continue this relationship knowing what I know now, Gracie" Y/n mumbles in heartbreak.

"So what if we start a new one? You still love me, don't you? We'll have a new first date and I'll ask you to be my girlfriend again and we'll rebuild our relationship and this time, it's not going to be a lie. Please, just one more chance" Gracie says, stepping closer to the girl and hesitantly taking her hands again.

"Okay. One more chance. I still love you so much" Y/n says, wrapping her arms around the brunette.

"Thank you so much! I love you" Gracie says, pulling the girl in for a gentle kiss, Y/n pulling away after a second.

"You're not even gonna take me out first?" She says as the two girls begin to giggle.

[neppednep]

Dating Serafall Leviathan HCs

》 You probably met Serafall at some anime convention or around Kuoh. She doesn't really spend too much time in the human world, and if she did, it would be at one of those locations. She's a busy woman, and you certainly won't find a Serafall frolicking around your local Walgreens.

》 Even after your first meeting with Serafall, she definitely isn't the type to just fall for someone right away. She may seem playful and quite stupid at times, but she is anything but. She is the Devil King in charge of foreign affairs, so she can pick up on these things. If you're just talking to her for some less than pure reason, she'll be happy to tell you to kick rocks. She respects herself too much to waste her precious time with someone like that. It's not like anyone there can actually pose a threat to her.

》 If you actually managed to run into her enough times and build some sort of connection to her, congratulations. She still isn't just going to fall for you. She's been alive for well over 500 years and has most definitely met a good amount of people much more attractive than you. That isn't to say she'll dismiss you just because of that, not entirely anyway, but you'll have to stand out in other aspects to catch her eye. Pray to the rizz god, you're gonna need it.

》 When it comes to impressing her, dumping a ton of money won't really do the trick. She has houses that are bigger than entire towns, so an expensive restaurant won't exactly do much. That doesn't mean take her to your local McDonalds either. She loves McNuggets just as much as the next person, but it certainly isn't date material.

》 Growing up as a noble, fighting in wars, and then becoming a Devil King, she's never really had the time or energy to really go on dates. Sure, she gets tons of marriage proposals, but she can see right through them. Being a normal human does give you a slight edge here, though. Far less of a chance of you using her for her status, as she certainly wouldn't be yapping about her life as a devil yet. Instead of just putting on airs like all those nobles, make it more personal. Make her something to eat, just walk through a park, take her to a cafe. Simple, more personal things like that get her going more than whatever boring shows people like to put on in front of her.

》 That being said, don't be afraid to be yourself. Unless you're some... Jaune Arc loving weirdo or something similar, she'll fall even harder. This is the woman that prances around as a magical girl doing, quite frankly, whatever the hell she wants. If you want to show off the things you like just as she does, she'll support you the whole way and may even try to pick up some of your interests too.

》 If everything went well and you get with her, being a human and managing to pull a Devil King and possibly the most beautiful woman in Hell is quite the achievement. Surprisingly, such an achievement wasn't easy to keep a secret. It took a whole five minutes before Serafall was flexing on everyone she considered remotely close to a friend that she finally had an S/O.

》 I don't want to say she'd force you to do anything, but... good chance she's reincarnating you as a devil before things get too serious. Being in a relationship with someone as important as her and being the equivalent to a summer ant to any supernatural creature that may wish to do you harm is quite the cause for concern. With all these creepy terrorists running around these days, she wants to keep you close and safe. What better way to do that than making you her queen?

》 She knows it may be overwhelming, but she'll do her best to help you through it and become the best version of you that you can be. She wasn't exactly born with the power of Sirzechs or anything, so she knows just how much hard work can do for someone. With your self-proclaimed magical girl girlfriend by your side, it's safe to say you're in good hands under her guidance.

》 Sona has mixed emotions. She's really happy Serafall now has another person to dote on, but at the same time, she's really protective of her older sister. If you manage to hurt Serafall, you best believe Sona will be there to whip you back into shape. Both literally and figuratively.

》 Your relationship with Serafall may be a bit controversial, to say the least. It will be practically impossible to stay out of the public eye. The more traditional types won't be happy that she chose a human, a reincarnated devil to be with. Some are happy for her, finally finding someone after centuries, while others can just be jealous. It's the usual celebrity gossip, only hundreds of times larger considering that she's literally one of their king and the two of you are kind of making history as you go.

》 Speaking of jealousy, if anyone tries to do something to you, she will throw hands. She will straight up kill people or just have them thrown in the slammer if they try to hurt you. She has no problem calling it treason and literally getting away with murder. She values her loved ones far too much to not make an example out of any fool that tries.

》 Serafall doesn't really get jealous herself. She knows her worth, and she knows you're not an idiot.

》 Unless it's Gabriel... you don't know the deal with those two, but if you ever meet the angel, Serafall will go into protective girlfriend mode faster than you can even comprehend. Gabriel doesn't really have to be doing anything, but Serafall will make sure she knows who you belong to and not try anything. That angel must be jealous of your love. She came to sabotage the relationship and take you for herself! Serafall's words, not yours.

》 You're going to be learning how to act properly. You're a Devil King's S/O, so you can't be slouching around and acting like some bum. She'll personally teach you exactly what to do and how to act in those situations. She doesn't really trust anyone else to do it to her standards, and it'll give her an excuse to spend more time with you. It's a win-win.

》 Dates after you officially get together don't change much. Serafall is definitely much more open and willing to spend money on you, though. Expect to go a lot of conventions, Sona watching, or just spending some quality time together giving her the relaxation she's missed out on for so long. She may or may not make you star in Miracle Levia-tan and call it a date.

》 She trusts you. A lot. There's very few people she can or will properly express her feelings to, Sona not even being one of them. She is the older sibling and feels the need to always seem strong in her presence. In private, Serafall can be more vulnerable. Centuries of bottled up emotions will come sooner or later, and having someone she can let her guard down around, just be Serafall and talk means a lot to her. Whether it's things about her time in war, things that happen with her job, or even just something she wants to get off her chest, it means the world if you can just be there and listen.

》 She may not like to really show it to a great extent, but she kind of is just like a school girl when it comes to your relationship. Not really having the time or interest before, this is new to her. She has her moments. Sometimes, she sits there in her office just thinking about your future together. How will your wedding be? How many kids? Questions only time will answer, but being at the mercy of time isn't something she particularly enjoys. She'll know if you were the one or not. Might as well take what belongs to her and make it official before it's too late, right?

》 Please don't let her name the child Sona or Y/N Jr.

[sukugo]

i have to ask because i adore you and i want to know about your new blorbos- who are they and what are they and why are they always soaked in blood

JDHSJFHJFDDJFFSDFDF, oh man where do i start cassie.

they're from the anime/manga jujutsu kaisen, and they are:

gojo satoru. love of my fucking life. my fucking everything my boy my man, i am so so in LOVE with this man i cant even begin to tell u. he consumes my every waking thought, my life is dedicated to seeing him get fucked. (he's the guy in my header humping his all into the other's arm)

and (ryoumen) sukuna. beautiful sexy evil man.

(can u tell who's my fave)

so in this world, we have jujutsu sorcerers, who are people with special powers that they use to defeat/exorcise curses, which are basically evil spirits born of negative human emotions

gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive. he is insanely strong, not a single person can go against him. his powers make it so that u literally physically cannot touch him. he controls "infinity" and can warp space, and he also has pretty special eyes that let him perceive things at a much deeper level than a regular person. those two things combined make him quite literally untouchable. and insanely powerful.

as for sukuna, he used to be a human who lived thousands of years ago, who used to be the strongest sorcerer of his time, and is considered to be the strongest sorcerer in history. he is the King of Curses, no one could ever defeat him, or destroy his soul, which he divided into his 20 preserved fingers so it would survive through time, even after dying.

so itadori yuuji

this lil baby boy (literally the babiest sweetest boy to exist btw) (he's actually the main character haha)

due to some stuff, he ends up eating one of sukuna's mummified fingers and sukuna reincarnates inside him. yuuji becomes a vessel for sukuna, who lives inside yuuji's mind now and sometimes takes over his body (reason why they look the same)

and now, yuuji is sentenced to be executed bc he holds the most evil sorcerer in history inside him, but gojo goes nope! wait a minute, let's not do that. and manages to convince the people in charge to postpone yuuji's execution, saying that they'll get yuuji to find and eat all of sukuna's fingers and then execute him, getting rid of sukuna all in one go.

ok so that's the context (that's actually what the anime's about haha), but as to gojo and sukuna.

THEY ARE IN LOVE

well, they're there. sdkkhfkjdkfdf

ok no, so like they do their things right. gojo is a teacher (tho we never actually see him do any teaching lmao) and sukuna lives inside yuuji and causes trouble sometimes. they don't really ever interact in the story (they literally meet and have a lil confrontation, decide to kill each other and never talk again djshjfdasdadfd) (until they actually have their Fight, more on that later)

BUT!!!!!!!! they may not interact, but they are completely tied together narratively.

as u can see, they're both the strongest from their respective times, so they have a lot of links when it comes to their characters themselves and what they are referred to in the story. specifically that, in being the strongest, they exist in a plane above everyone else, literally untouchable.

now, in the story, this position of strongest is coupled with solitude, being the strongest meaning u're alone and no one else understands you bc of this

and SO they have their fight. bc plot reasons right. this is obv what it was all gonna lead to. fight of the two strongest.

and the fight, consequently, revolves around that idea of solitude, and understanding each other.

which like. ok. yeah we saw that coming. ofc. no big deal.

EXCEPT, to make reference to their relationship and that idea of understanding each other, the term that is used is, and i kid u not, love.

there's a very specific phrase that is used multiple times between them. which is actually used originally with a character who shows romantic feelings towards sukuna.

she challenges sukuna to a fight and sukuna promises to marry her if she wins. her goal in this fight is to share in sukuna's solitude and show him love (read R→L)

but she says this to sukuna and this. this is his reaction.

SUKUNA KNOWS LOVE ALREADY

to which she gets super pissed bc that's not!!! love!!!!!!!

sukuna defeats/kills her. and u know when the next time that exact fucking phrase is used? when sukuna and gojo finally meet again and set up the date to have their Fight, where sukuna remembers her words

which tells us that.

sukuna was.

thinking about gojo when she said that.

*screams into hands*

BUT IT DOESN'T STOP THERE. this phrase is then repeated. multiple times.

1. right after gojo punches the fuck out of sukuna:

2. said in reference to gojo, when he realizes there's a chance of him losing:

3. gojo reminiscing about their fight:

so, as u can see, they were going to teach each other love. their fight is. canonically. about teaching each other love. what the FUCK.

but ENOUGH love talk (or else i'm at risk of going crazy insane)

LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'RE LOADED WITH SEXUAL TENSION

this was in their first meeting where they fought (for quite literally 10 seconds)

like... why he do dat.... .......... . ....

next day sukuna goes "hey im gonna kill u first <3" and gojo just goes "teehee omg really? *hair twirl* <3"

they also decide to have their final battle on dec 24 which is like a super romantic date in japan (explicitly said so by another character)

and their FIGHT. it is LITERALLY just them flirting and touching each other

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i fucking lost it. i still haven't recovered. that is the hottest thing i've ever seen in my life. gojo wants that dick so fucking bad

not to mention thigh grabs and hand touchies

and the entirety of the fight is just them having fun 😭😭 they're supposed "enemies" on opposite sides and the fate of the world is at stake here, but they actually don't give a fuck about that.

they're literally smiling and having a great fucking time. this fight for them is just play. their fight is just for them to have fun as the strongest and to connect with each other. they're enemies but they don't hate each other or anything, they only search for that sense of fulfillment in each other OTL

AND ABOUT THAT, oh my GOD

sukuna wins. he defeats gojo. and at the end, this. is what sukuna says to gojo at the end of the fight:

FUCKING. I'LL NEVER FORGET YOU. SCREAAAAM THAT'S ROMANCEEEEEE.

and the soft smile? the fucking petals falling all over them? oh GOD they're trying to kill me

but that's on sukuna's side, what about for gojo? well

HE GENUINELY TRIED TO REACH SUKUNA, GAVE IT HIS ALL TO CONNECT WITH HIM. TO TEACH HIM LOVE AGFKDHSKFHFKJFHDF (BUT HE FAILED HE COULDN'T GIVE SUKUNA WHAT SUKUNA GAVE HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)

HHRRRRGJFHSJDFHDSJFSDFA KJHDKFJSFKASLDKS ADKJKFHEWRKJEKRKTRELRW

and if i start crying OTL

but alas *deep breaths*

even without all that they're just very fucking sexy. two insane powerful men going at it? come on. how could u NOT want them together. they both hold the same title of the strongest, might as fucking well fuck nasty about it.

and oh god, when i tell u gojo is a fucking brat and he's so strong and untouchable, but then sukuna is capable of putting him down which is. insanely sexy. and i need it. i need gojo obliterated. and i know sukuna won't let me down (AND HE DID NOT. HE OBLITERATED THAT MAN) can he now obliterate his holes too

agdkhfhdkhdhs, anyways.... yeah.. that is the situation.........

im just gonna end this by saying

SUKUGO MY LOVES

[afatallovesong]

I am absolutely IN LOVE with the way you write. so real, always gets me hooked. BUT the way you write calum? deceased-completely swiped away... cant wait for your next work :3 (maybe some spicy calum action because i LIVE for those? love u!)

I LOVED writing this piece!!! I may be persuaded to write a part 2.

Purely Transactional

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

The one where you fake date

Word Count: 12,700

Picture this; you’re being forced to attend your sisters engagement party, it’s a weekend event a couple towns over. You’ve got a room booked for two, yourself and your boyfriend. Your family can’t wait to meet the man who’s stolen your heart at last. It’s actually the second biggest event in your family history for years. The issue: you don’t have a boyfriend. You haven’t had one since you were 16. You only said you did have a boyfriend because you thought you would have by now. You never saw life going this way at all. Now you either have to fess up to being a single mother of two beautiful little dogs or find a last minute lover to feel less alone. Yay.

You asked everyone you knew. The neighbour, the neighbour’s neighbour. His cousin from out of town, his cousin from out of town’s neighbour. Every single one of your friends and only one of them gave you something or more, someone to work with. “Why don’t you ask Calum?” You’re slouching on his sofa, sinking into the leather as he strums away at his guitar a joint hanging  dangerously from his mouth. “I don’t know him.” You say it like it’s obvious, kicking your feet up. “Which is exactly why you should.” You catch his drift, but you don’t want to. It wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was. “I’m gonna get asked questions.” You deadpan. “So, make some notecards.” You tug the joint from his mouth, bringing it to your own. “Yes you may have that.” You flick him. “Rude.” You take a drag before slotting it back gently between his lips, returning to your seat.

 

“He won’t do it.” Ashton doesn’t respond. “I know he won’t, he doesn’t like me.” He huffs. ‘You hadn’t given him a chance to’ is what he says in his mind. “Has he told you that?” He quit playing, giving you more of his attention. He really did want to help. “Not exactly, no.” He leaned over his guitar, placing the joint down in his hand painted ash tray on the coffee table. The one you made for him for Christmas the year before. The one that he loved and guarded with his life. “Ask him.” You shake your head. “Ask him.” He says again, the guitar now being rested carefully against the table alerting you that he meant business. “No. Way.” You continue. He moves over to you; you slot your legs across his lap, and he leans back into his seat comfortably under the weight of them. “I’m gonna ask him.” You think he’s joking. You hoped he was joking. He wasn’t joking.

 

-

 

“Calum, we don’t know each other that well so I thought you’d be perfect plus you’re kinda the only other single one left, so it had to be you.” There were no lies told. You were the only ones; it might have been the only thing you actually had in common in your little inner circle of friends. You weren’t close but you also weren’t complete strangers. You were a little more than acquaintances, but not really friends. He was your only shot at this, that much you did know. “I resent that.” You roll your eyes, ‘you would,’ you think. You’re running out of options, he was your last chance, you had a week to prepare, this had to be it. You considered throwing in the towel moments before he arrived at your place. Half an hour late. It should have been enough of a sign not to go through with it but then he did arrive. Meaning that somewhere deep down inside him, he was interested. You could work with interested.

 

“I’ll pay you.” You can’t imagine anything worse; you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to actually pay him but desperate all the same. He seemed reasonable enough though. He had more money than he knew what to do with and he was close with Ashton. Ashton was good people; he’d turn your offer down, you were sure of it. “How much?” He perks up, stroking his chin now his attention was caught. “You weren’t actually supposed to want payment.” You panicked, feet shuffling, hands tapping your thighs relentlessly. He was smirking. “Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?” He steps in close, a couple feet between you, not enough. “Want me to act like an escort? You’re gonna have to pay me like one.” If you hadn’t ever had a conversation with him, you might have found that attractive. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His jawline so picturesque you may have thought about kissing it once or twice. You also liked his eyes, even if he was cold and callous beneath them, only out for himself. But he wasn’t that attractive, and he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he did. Much.

 

“Like you don’t have more money than my entire family combined.” You dig. This was never going to happen. You don’t know why he even entertained it this far. There wasn’t a single helpful bone in his body, no matter how much you wished there were. “How bad do you need a boyfriend sweetheart?” He shortens the space between you even more. Your chest feels tight, the confidence dripping from his tongue was actually working on you, you were out of your depth. The way he looked at you too. Eyes flicking down to your lips and back, head tilting slightly, almost robotically, like he was sizing you up. Seeing if he could make it work. Make you work for him. You felt a heat on the back of your neck. You felt gross.

 

“100 bucks if they believe it, 50 if they don’t.” You couldn’t believe you were even saying it. You’d have to make him forget you agreed to any of that. “For how long?” He quipped back. “You’re so greedy. I’m gonna have to make a note of that in our very public lovers spat.” You lace it with venom as well as humour, standing your ground. The corner of his lips begins to curl. He fights it. “How long?” He repeats again, just as steady in tone. “A weekend.” You breathe. “Like Saturday and Sunday.” He asks. “Like Friday to Monday,” you respond just as deadpan. “200.” He takes a dangerous step closer. You don’t flinch. “150 and no black eye.” His brows furrow, forehead creasing in confusion. He kind of reminded you of a neanderthal. Dumb little boy.

 

“Why would I have a black eye?” You raise your fist. “OKAY PUT YOUR FIST DOWN. Jesus woman, I’ll do it.” He admits defeat. “Perfect. I made some note cards, things about me you may get asked about, read them, memorise them, guard them with your life.” You tug the notes from your back pocket, pushing them into his chest abruptly. He looks down at them quizzically. “What if they ask about me?” You shrug your shoulders. “I’m sure you’re not that complex.” He doesn’t attempt to hide how insulted he is by that.

 

“When is it?” You point to the cards. “All the information you need is in the notes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “how are we-“ you go to open your front door, you’d had the entire conversation in the hallway, not wanting him to go any further into your home than that. “In the notes Calum.” He takes a look down at the cards in his hands, he hated reading other people’s handwriting, made him feel dumb when he couldn’t understand it as well as he’d liked. You joined your letters all curly too which didn’t help. He actually half expected you to dot the I’s with hearts, you seemed like that kind of girl. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that you hadn’t.

 

You’re ushering him out the door, waving your hand to make him move faster. He pauses in your doorframe. You were so close. You could just kick him; he’d be off your property in no time. You wouldn’t have to think about him for another week then. You could pack your bags in peace. “You spelt my name wrong.” He points to the card; you’d done it on purpose. “No, I think your parents did.” He frowns. Before he can respond again you give him that much needed shove out the door. “BYE CALUM!” You slam it behind him, leaning your back against it as if that would prevent him from getting back inside and on top of your nerves again. He found the whole ordeal just as unpleasant as you had but he still finds himself on the other side of that door with a smile on his face. He read every single card you wrote for him. You were way more annoying than he thought. 

 

-

“What part are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask the table, leaning over, reaching for your cocktail to distract your mouth before you can step your foot in it. You were being tested way harder than you ever anticipated you would. You really never imagined they’d care let alone put you on trial for the crime of getting a boyfriend without their prior knowledge or approval. It’s nice to know how friendly and welcoming they really are when push comes to shove. You’d have to keep that in mind for the real thing, whenever that might be.

 

You’d laugh the nerves away, but you were afraid you might never stop laughing. You’d just manically laugh until you sank under the table, down into the ground, right to centre of the earth, burning up at the core before passing away painfully. You wished you could laugh. Instead, you just took the longest sip, looking to your left and right as subtly as you could muster under the immense pressure placed upon your shoulders by your sister and her fiancé. Deep breaths, it’ll all be over soon. 

 

“I don’t buy it.” She states matter of factly. “You go from a single dog mom to suddenly in love with the perfect guy.” You open your mouth to speak but you daren't even try, she’s not finished yet. “It’s a little conveniently timed don’t you think?” She waves her hands to illustrate her point in that annoying fashion that only she could. Waving her fresh manicure right in your face, whether accidental or on purpose, still ridiculously annoying and yet another reminder that she had her life together and you didn’t. She turned to her fiancé before glancing towards the rest of the table for back up, all nodding along with her instantly as if she were a puppet master stringing them along. Cowards. 

 

Your gaze remains steady and ice cold, colder than the slushy cocktail in your hands. The only thing that made the weekend worth it were the free bar and the adorable outdoor beer garden. You release the straw after a long sip with an “Ahh.” You try not to enjoy the twitch of your sister’s right eye at the sound. She’d always loathed when people did that. Anyone who made a noise of satisfaction after a drink no matter how delicious or refreshing it may be, was a colossal pain in her ass. You think she just despises other people’s enjoyment. She thinks it’s an unnecessary sound that people tend to use to exaggerate how nice something is as a performance for other people rather than for themselves. She also thinks it’s incredibly unladylike, which gives you a bigger kick to try it out every single time.

 

“Why would I lie?” You place your drink down harder than you intend to, wincing as the glass clangs on the table so hard you thought it may shatter. “You know I love you sis, but I don’t think I’d go to the length of faking a relationship just because you’re getting engaged.” Which would be such a wonderful sentence to throw out into the universe if that weren’t exactly what you were doing. “I just met the right guy.” You try not to grimace at the cheesiness of it all, that, and the fact you still hadn’t decided if you’d even liked him more than just a piece of eye candy. Because there was no denying that he was attractive, from the start he’d had that going at least. You’d only been admitting it because of the influence of alcohol too. It was just the rest of the package that gave you a headache.

 

“But he’s-“ You scowl before she continues that sentence, you almost will her to continue. “He’s what?” You push. If anyone were going to come for Calum they had better make it good because that was an area you excelled in and would absolutely love to be a part of even if you did have to defend him right now. You could always use any good material at a later date when left to your own devices though, a pen and paper would be wonderful.

 

“He’s not your type.” You don’t believe that’s what she planned to say, it came out far too polite to be something she’d actually thought of. “What is my type then?” You probably shouldn’t have asked her this, but your curiosity trumps all reason. She flails her hand around in her lap, trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. You had no doubt your past relationships were displaying in her mind, enough horrendous options for her to choose from right out of a hat. 

 

“Nerds,” she begins to list on her fingers, which is quite alarming because you really didn’t think you had that much of a track record. “Gamer boys,” which basically comes under ‘nerds.’ “Skinny guys,” that was absolutely not exclusive, “Gamer boy nerds.” She throws 3 fingers up. That’s if she was classing ‘boy’ as a type which you assume she was. You had to hand it to her, she wasn’t entirely wrong about your past dating pool, but Calum wasn’t exactly far off that. “Calum just, doesn’t seem much of a nerd.” You’re certain that’s not what she intended to say, and you thought she might stop herself there, but she doesn’t, why would she? “He’s, well I hate to say it,” you bet she doesn’t though, “he’s out of your league.” Ahh, there it is. That’s more like it. She even says it with an apologetic expression to make you consider it for a millisecond. If only he were here. Oh, how he’d love this.

 

Calum was the lucky one in this scenario, whether it was fake or not, you were a catch. One that no one had ever caught and kept hold of but a catch, nonetheless. Your mom would agree, probably not the best argument but it’s there and it counted. You reached for your drink once again and prayed he returned soon; you were drowning out here and you weren’t even out of the shallows. “Then lucky me.” You sip as aggressively as one can with a shitty paper straw wedged between their teeth. You were so glad the sea turtles were safer at the hands of recycled paper straws, but you so missed being able to drink a cocktail without the added ingredient of paper mache sinking at the bottom of each glass.

 

“Why are we in luck?” His voice swings in joining the conversation as he walks back over to your table. His hearing was impeccable, you wonder what else had slipped by him on his way over. You’d honestly never felt so relieved to hear his voice either, even if his steps closer bought the smell of cheap cigarettes and your early twenties. You’d have loved him back then. Back in college, your first taste of freedom, the option to date whoever you liked, to experiment a little. You’d have eaten up that bad boy, leather jacket, cigarette smoking musician act he had going for him. Quiet and brooding too, oh yeah, your knickers would have never left the floor. Good thing you grew up since then. 

 

He grabbed his chair, pushing it right next to yours, as close as he could get without sitting directly on top of you and for a second you ponder about why he bothered with his chair at all. His eyes burned into the side of your face, and you plastered a smile wide enough to match his as you leant into him. “What took you so long?” You whispered while maintaining that sickeningly sweet smile that hurt your face to pull. “You miss me that much?” He licked across his bottom lip, and you mentally scold yourself for looking at it. “I’m getting eaten alive out here.” He grinned wider. “Must be because you’re so damn delicious.” Your stomach fluttered. What the fuck? 

 

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You felt yourself relax into him, like his lips had sucked all of the tension from your body. You may not like him very much but you sure were glad he was here right now. Even without the facade, it was hard being in environments where you had to face your entire family alone. It’s not that you weren’t close with them, or didn’t love them, it was just difficult standing your own ground sometimes. You needed that extra shield for the invasive questions and high expectations, the anchor to keep you firmly in place, sure of yourself. It was a tough act to balance. 

 

He couldn’t deny that he’d gained some respect for you for how well you’d handled things. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d manage a family dynamic like this alone, even if he were part of it. He was kind of developing a soft spot for you, probably more than you were anyway. Okay, definitely more than you were. He wasn’t sure when it started. He’d had the message exchanges throughout the last week. He had the detailed notes about your life from start to finish to divulge. The 3 hour car journey where you refused to play music, instead forcing him to answer questions about you in preparation for the event. It was somewhere amongst there. Maybe even when you’d shared a room the past two nights without killing each other. In seeing a vulnerable side of you that made you appear a little more human. He’d also seen a larger portion of you without clothing, that certainly helped.

 

Yes. Perhaps somewhere around there he’d liked you. All he knew now was that in watching your interactions with your family, it made him want to stick to you like glue and support you the best he could for however long you would let him. You had it covered, and you’d tell him that too, afraid of showing any weaknesses, but that’s exactly why he felt like he should support you, he didn’t want you to feel so alone, you didn’t have to be so alone. 

 

He didn’t even have to force himself to kiss your cheek that time, he’d just wanted to rid your face of the frown that threatened to grace it, even if he found it adorable. His issue now was that he had trouble moving away. His lips lingering, breath tickling your cheek, until you coughed under your breath for him to shift away. For a moment he’d wished it weren’t all play pretend. That he could stay there and have it not feel so strange. He couldn’t pin point when his eyes started to soften at the sight of you. All he knew was that they had. It was getting increasingly easier to act enamoured by you, because, well, he might have been.

 

“So, what did I miss?” He tilts his head towards the rest of the table, it felt like such a difficult task to withdraw his attention from you. You yourself took the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. You also needed to pat your stomach to hold off the swarm of butterflies scrambling around in there. There was this dizzying, uneasiness in the pit of your tummy, like you were fighting the emotions within yourself. Those damn love bugs were wasting their time going crazy for this situation. It wasn’t real, not worth the energy. Surely you didn’t need to be convinced of that, it was clear as day. You didn’t need this unnecessary nausea. “We were just talking about what a wonderful couple you are.” Your brother in law speaks, directing his attention towards the man at your side. You really thought you’d liked that man, he betrayed you. You kept a special scowl just for him. He felt hot under the collar when he felt the intensity of it. Good, you thought. Traitor. 

 

Calum dipped his hand down onto your thigh where he’d noticed your hand was already resting, slipping his fingers between yours, resting atop your knuckles effortlessly for all to see. You’d felt your breath hitching in your throat. The simplicity of the action shouldn’t have caused such a stir, but it was just so easy for him. He was so touchy feely like it was the most natural thing in the world. He loved to touch. It was one of the main reasons that made it so hard to remain sure that this was all an act. Was he like this with everyone? You’d half hoped he wasn’t, even if your other half screamed at you for that naivety. It wasn’t exactly your love language, but you’d wished it were, you wanted to touch him. Too many drinks maybe.

 

“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?” He threw back with nothing but charm, sweet like honey dripping from his tongue. If he weren’t in a band you could certainly picture him as an actor with some of the crap he pulled. Sometimes he even had you believing this whole thing, lines blurring like no other. Especially when nuzzled his nose into your neck eliciting a squeal from your lips. All before deciding to stay there, sitting with his chin resting on your shoulder happily. Like the most casual position in the world.

 

Your heart pounded against your chest. His arm slunk around your waist. His mouth opened for you, signalling you to bring his cocktail and straw between his lips to take a sip. A ridiculously over the top public display of affection you swore you’d never partake in. Yet for some reason your hands were ignoring every judgment your mind was making, allowing you to feed him his drink like some kind of mother to a parched child. It was interesting to you how fast you’d been able to communicate with him like that without it ever needing to be said or asked for. “You owe me.” You whisper. “Not how this transaction really works.” He says between sips rather impressively. It might even be considered cute if it wasn’t such a threat. Your cheeks burned.

 

“It just seems so sudden.” Your sister just can’t bite back her tongue for more than two seconds huh. You’re literally sat there with giant, red, beaming heart eyes for each other. So, close your personal space would never be described as such for as long as you shall live, ever again. Literally feeding each other. Squeezing each other’s hands. Hating every second you’re apart. Feeling like you may break without the other. Whispering sweet nothings (more like threats but no one else had spotted that) into each other’s ears. You’re both so over the top, overwhelmingly infatuated (although falsely) with each other you may as well claim this engagement party as your own and YET, no one believed you for a second. Hell, even you thought you might be falling. Thank you vodka.

 

“When you know, you know.” You say, lifting your hand to pat his cheek after putting his drink back on the table. He squeezes your other hand instinctively. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it in the first place, it felt so nice and soft, like it belonged in his. It could belong there. “What will it take to convince you?” He offers. You squeeze his hand even harder, this time hoping to pump the breaks on this one. As much as you appreciated him sticking up for the relationship. You weren’t up for a quick fire round of questions that you weren’t prepared in the slightest. Especially since he refused to learn the answers to any potential enquiries a day prior. Deeming the impromptu quiz session in the car ‘enough learning for a lifetime.’

 

“Cal,” is all you warn while you beg him to shut up with your mind instead. “No, no sweetie, we can answer all the questions they have.” He grinned at you so menacingly; you wanted to wipe that smirk right off his adorably smug little face. Woah. When did he become adorable? Scratch that. Shush. You’re so pissed you don’t even fawn over the pet name, much. You may as well pack your bags now and return home though, you were done for, the hoax was over. The end.

 

“What’s her favourite band?” Okay, we’re actually doing this. “Or singer, if that’s easier.” Ryan, your least favourite brother in law and your only brother in law, fires out. He only knew the answer himself because he tried to impress you one Christmas by buying you a limited edition vinyl. Of all the people at this table, you thought at least he wouldn’t be sceptical of you. Unbelievable.

 

“There isn’t just one, its multiple, depends what mood she’s in.” You’re intrigued already on where this is going. Your sister jeered at the response, already less than impressed. Calum turns his head, lifting his hand to silence her before she can say anything. You almost pat him on the back for it. “But, if I had to choose.” Which he did. He really did. “Queen, Black Sabbath, The 1975, Taylor Swift, Harry Styles and I’m going to add 5SOS in there because she’s our number one groupie, aint that right babe.” You allow yourself to roll your eyes at the last part, even if you were dating you doubt you’d let him describe you as a groupie, dick.

 

“That’s easy, they’re pretty generic choices minus sabbath.” You had to give them that one, it wasn’t the most cut throat list of indie artists you could only associate with your taste and yours only. You’d been a bit of a basic music lover your whole life and there was no shame in that. You liked what you liked and that was okay. You were still impressed he knew any of your list though. Maybe he actually had read your notes, lying shit. Definitely not adorable. “Favourite food?” Okay, still going. You lean back, may as well get comfortable since you’re going to be here for a while. 

 

He snorted before answering that one and you wondered what was so insanely funny that could make him move his hand away from your thigh to explain it properly. You missed his touch the second you were without it. Gag. “Bread.” He giggled just saying it, the kind of giggle where the creases beside his eyes really stood out and his cheeks bunched up all precious and pudgy underneath them. You can’t help but smile.

 

“But not just plain bread right,” he looked to you before continuing as if to say ‘hey, watch this, look at me.’ He thinks he has you down. You indulge him. “So, bread in its many forms,” he lifted his fingers to start listing, “sandwiches, toast, brioche, fried bread, french toast, pizza dough, the list goes on right but at the height of it all,” he really gestured above his head to signify the detailed tier system of bread options. He added a small and useless breather to gain anticipation, it wasn’t working. “Garlic bread.” 

 

You snorted a laugh yourself this time. Not because he was wrong either, because he was 100% correct in fact. You were mortified that, that was your own answer. He locked eyes with you in a way that he hadn’t done before, with genuine affection, maybe even a glimmer of hope that he’d done you justice. He was captivated by you, your cheeks bursting with redness, your smile tight, starting to hurt you in fighting it. You looked so pretty right now. The glow of the lamps out in this beer garden just added to the radiance he already thought you had. He couldn’t believe a girl as pretty as you considered bread your favourite food.

 

He also found the noise you made to be one of the cutest things he’d ever heard, and he wished he could make you do it again someday. He really didn’t consider himself that funny though. He might have to get some drinks down you for another laugh like that. “I thought your favourite were sour patch kids?” Your sister argued, using her nails again to assist her point. Calum chimed in before you could go to correct her.

 

“Actually, that was her hyper fixation for a little while, ate every flavour except lemon. Which are my favourite, so it works out pretty well.” Your jaw may as well have hit the floor. He’d only known that from the car ride up here. You were about to throw the packet out before he stopped you, complaining you were wasting money and food since you left all the yellow ones. You were shocked he remembered. If you were impressed by him right now, surely everyone else had to be too, right? Wrong.

 

“Celebrity crush?” He answered this quicker than you or he would like to admit. You also just didn’t  know how he came to the conclusion he did and how he was so correct with it, suspicious. “Joseph Quinn hands down, can’t even knock it, he’s a handsome man.” The next question went swimmingly too. “Favourite hobby?” He gave it a thought for a second, glancing to you and back, “painting, she’ll say she’s no good at it but actually she’s got a gift. I’ve never seen anyone use colour the way she does. Actually, considered using some of your work for album art.”  He turned to you towards the end, and you struggled to decipher whether it was bullshit or not. Your heart actually ached at the thought of it being true. 

 

“Favourite movie?” Your brother in law’s turn to ask. You threw your head back in exasperation. “What is this, the Spanish inquisition? Is this really necessary?” You looked to your sister and her future husband. “Yes!” They admitted in unison. Calum’s hand returned to your thigh, patting it softly, his thumb rubbing soothing shapes into your bare skin. It was working. God it was working. He was like ice against your fire, the way he cooled you.

“I’ve got this.” He assured you. “Yeah, you kind of do, that’s why it’s so fucking weird.” You admitted quietly but not enough as to hide it from anyone else, deeming it safe for public consumption. He smirked. “Scared I know too much about you?” You were. You were terrified. This time you do lower your voice. “Just didn’t know you could actually read. Guess my notes were a great help after all.” You stuck your tongue out. For a second he thought about taking it in his mouth, probably some other filthier thoughts floated around his brain too. It was something about the proximity and the cocktails you’d shared, you could always blame those.

 

“The Harry Potter franchise but her favourite would have to be the second one,” he knows he has it right, but he just can’t think of the name, turning to you momentarily for help, you mouthed “the chamber of secrets” before he nodded and repeated it. He then paused, not for dramatic effect but so he could smile to himself as he thought about why that was your favourite. “It’s the first time we as the audience,” he gestured to his chest, “visit the Weasley house,” ‘the burrow,’ you say in your head, but it was close enough.

 

“The Weasley’s are the best family in the wizarding world, not up for discussion.” You leant in, your lips close to his ear. “If we were really dating, you’d be getting your dick sucked so hard tonight.” It took every bone in his body not shut the evening down and carry you back to your hotel room with that false promise in mind. He instead tried to ignore the now throbbing sensation in his trousers. Had you always done that to him?

 

“Ok those are fairly standard.” In what world was his last answer not specifically catered to you? “How about a random trivia round?…” The suggestions just kept going. If this were the only worthy form of entertainment they could find, married life was going to be abysmal. “Or.” He began and this is when you really, really started to panic, like exponentially. There was nothing that could have helped him out now. Your notes only consisted of the likes, dislikes, and the fake scenario in which you first met. There was nothing else. That was the end of the script. He couldn’t be that good at improvisation. You didn’t want the opportunity to find out either. You were no casting director. He no longer had to impress you or anyone else. If they were still at odds with the situation then so be it. You couldn’t please everyone. It really shouldn’t have taken you that long to realise it. Huh. The more you know.

 

“I can tell you about how she makes me feel.” You really, truly would rather you didn’t know. If it’s the truth, it would hurt. If it was a lie, well that might hurt even more. You begged the universe to keep him quiet. Whatever he had to say was going to blow your cover and throw this whole shit show up in flames. Your sister seemed so keen and intrigued enough to let him continue. You however, said your final goodbyes to any future you had where you weren’t a laughing stock for the entire family. A future where Calum couldn’t reject and discard you publicly. Now it was a very real possibility, you were far more upset than you ever thought you would be. Calum glances at you briefly, bucking up the courage to put on the biggest and most detrimental show of his entire life. 

 

He doesn’t face your sister when the words come tumbling from his mouth. He faced you, addressing you like he needed you to hear this and fuck, maybe he did. You actually felt touched about it until he opened his mouth. “You’re kind of a fucking weirdo.” You went to shut him up as the embarrassment crept in, but he spoke louder as he often did. “You are, you’re a freak- and it’s so, it’s refreshing.” Your mouth closed but oh, so slowly. You began to listen to him, decided to trust him. “You’re fucking nuts.” You rolled your eyes. How many ways were there, to describe you as crazy? Why did he feel the need to use all of them? “But I like it. I do. I feel like I can be myself around you.” He talked with his hands a lot as he scrambled the words. You reached for them, settling them in your lap and he silently thanked you for it. Everything got a whole lot easier when you held his hand. 

 

“You make it feel okay to be a bit crazy. You don’t have to be so straight or basic, you can just, be.” Just as you started to smile, you saw that you weren’t the only one. It was working, his little speech was actually working. “I like who I am around you. Even if sometimes you don’t. I like that you tell me when I piss you off. I like that you act like you hate me when you don’t. I like that you’re so fucking stubborn and headstrong you’d never rely on anyone else and that pisses me off.” You felt tingling racing across your chest. “I love that no moment with you feels forced. That, that smile, right there could make flowers bloom.” He gestured to your face with both of your hands linked together. “That your glare could cause a fucking storm or something.” You tried not to get swept up in the fact he’d stopped saying ‘like.’ 

 

“I love that everything feels okay when your hand is in mine, even when you try and say you don’t like holding hands, you’re too good at it to hate it. You know exactly the right moments.” He shook his head with a disbelief. It started to feel so real. “I think I’d miss you even if I’d never met you.” His hand tightened around yours when he said his last sentence. “And I’m glad I met you. I hope one day you’ll be glad you met me too.” The rest of his speech hadn’t mattered when he uttered those words. The words that knocked the breath out of you, leaving you fighting for your life in the seat next to him. You don’t think anyone had ever referred to you so kindly in your life, even if he did call you fucking mental at least 5 times throughout. 

 

He couldn’t even breathe. He’d said it. He’d let it all out and now he just saw the look of shock on your face and couldn’t take a single breath, not knowing how you’d react. It was news to him too though. He could play it off as a lie, say he saw it in a movie, some chick flick or something. He’d copied it because of course he had. But then again, on the off chance you weren’t horrified, he wasn’t sure if he had any more guts left to tell you it was true. He just knew that he needed to do something. He had to fill this painful silence somehow and thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone. 

 

You kissed him. You scraped your jaw off the floor, and you kissed him. You’d not kissed him like this before. Like your life depended on it. Like he was the very air you needed to breathe. Like he’d meant every word he’d just said, and you’d believed it. God you might have even felt the same.     You were also slightly ashamed to say it had your panties soaking between your thighs. Not to mention your heart thundering in your chest.

 

Calum kissed you as if he were tattooing his words across your lips for eternity. Because for the first time throughout this whole charade, he was actually allowed to mean every word he had said, whether he knew this was how he was feeling at the start of the evening or not. Neither of you could have predicted a confession like this. Even after giving one, he wasn’t quite believing it himself. But fuck, there was freedom in it. There was a lovely form of permanence. Him knowing his words were out there for the universe to take and make with what it will. He felt weightless. It wasn’t the cocktails. Something just clicked in his brain, and he knew it. You were everything.

 

You melted into each other when his lips found yours. It was sweet and slow but confident, with purpose. Each stroke of his lips against yours carefully considered and carried out like clockwork. You’d felt a rush from this kiss. It was hungrier than any other you’d shared. Quite frankly it was starved. You’d pressed up against him so hard and he’d done just the same to you. His hands coming up to tilt your chin up towards him for more. As if you hadn’t been close enough already. Its only when you gasped at his touch did he slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew he’d had so much practice kissing women like this, but you couldn’t care. You allowed him inside, welcomed the way he licked into your mouth delicately. Blissfully enjoying the taste of his last cigarette on his breath, shocked that it’s not even a put off for you right now.

 

His words had gotten you drunker than the cocktails you’d been knocking back all evening. You almost whined when he dragged himself away from you. It was way too premature for your liking. Your eyes remained on him and only him as your hands fell back from their place atop his shoulders. You weren’t even sure when they’d gotten there in the first place, just swept away with nothing but him to guide you. 

 

He smiled at you; a smile you know he hadn’t been pretending. You were about to lean back in, sealing that gap between you, before you were reminded of exactly where you were. In public. Very much in public. You sank back into your seat sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks, burning hot like lava ready to erupt. Calum threw his arm around you, and you seized the opportunity to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. He thought it might be the cutest thing you could possibly have done. He even struggled to wipe the blush off his own cheeks. He felt like a school boy again. “Okay, fine, we believe you.” Your sister threw her hands up in defeat. You’d forgotten what you were even aiming to prove, your head was so flooded with hormones. It remained that way until you were back inside the hotel.

 

-

 

Back in the safety of your room, deep in the darkness, the only light being from the glowing orange streetlights outside, you found yourself nervous for what would come next. You needed a moment to think. “I’m going to take a shower.” You said softly. “Do you mind?” He shook his head, unable to speak. You’d think that after he’d already lay everything down on the table, that he’d find it easier to approach you, but he resorted back to silence. “Go ahead.” He offered. You wanted to ask him to join you. You didn’t. You just thought about it while you locked the bathroom door behind you. When you wiped off your makeup. When you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stripping and stepping inside. You thought about it even under the water, arm stretched out to reach you shampoo. You still didn’t.

 

He’s already tucked away under the sheets, while you’re in there. He thought about falling asleep, willing himself into a trance before you could return, he couldn’t. His mind was swimming with thoughts. He instead insured that the wall of cushions you’d built on night one, was as high as it ever was. There to wedge a distance between you once more. Which is what you wanted, right? It was your main housekeeping rule for sharing a bed.

 

“Hey." He breathed, as you returned from the bathroom, steam seeping out after you. He was nervous. You ignored it. He lay flat, facing the ceiling, his arms fastened at his sides above the covers. You shouldn’t let your eyes wander but the light had given you a clear path to follow, leading you to the tattooed feather of his collarbone. You wanted to touch it, you’re not sure why. You slipped silently into bed beside him, only you turned your back on him, willing the conversation to end. But you didn’t actually want it to be over. 

 

He rolled over without so much as a creak being made on the old bed. He barely even tugged the cover from you. It’s like a move too sudden would spook you and send you running, it might have, he couldn’t be certain. “Do you think the great wall of prevention might be ready to come down?” He nudged it into your back for emphasis. He didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t either. And yet, your stomach twisted to think of an excuse, a reason for it to stay very much where it was. Only you didn’t find one. “Okay.” You spoke softly. “Okay.” He repeats just as low, just making sure. You hardly felt him moving them. It was so unlike him to be so gentle, so light handed, treading carefully. He was so cautious and calculated, you never thought he had it in him. The cushions were gone. Now what?

“I’m gonna ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but I really need to ask it so please just hear me out.” There were a million different things he could have asked you; you’d never have enough time to predict it or rehearse the correct answer, you could only breathe as you anticipated it. “Can I hold you?” It felt good to say it, even if his breath was shaky and his heart felt like it might just pack in. He really wanted to touch you. That was before he even saw you there, lay in the warm glow of the light, hair still a little damp, loose over your shoulder, your t-shirt clinging to your body.

 

The sheets weren’t covering your lower half as well as you’d thought they were, not now the barrier between you was down. Now he could see the lace band of your panties peeking bellow your sleep shorts. He was about to abandon the whole ordeal. Just a peek shouldn’t have been enough to stir him between his legs and maybe it wasn’t, not on its own. But if he’d counted every other occasion tonight where you’d looked too pretty, sounded too sweet, it all added up and he guessed it contributed to the problem. 

 

He started to worry when you didn’t answer him. You obviously weren’t asleep. You were clearly fiddling with the sheets, your fingers tugged at the material anxiously. He’d completely overstepped, he should have expected that. You weren’t together. You wouldn’t ever be together. That was all this entire weekend was supposed to be after all. Just an opportunity to fake it. How could he be so stupid? “Come here.” He looks down to see you half turned back to him, the duvet lifted, giving him even more of a view of your shorts, but he tried not to look at you too much. To just see the invitation, which was what mattered the most. 

 

He wasn’t sure how to approach, you couldn’t help him either. You would spoon, that was a given, you hadn’t budged your position, left him no choice but to mould his body around yours. He shuffled closer, awkwardly trying to stretch his right arm underneath your pillow without lifting your head, hurting your neck. He curled around your back, leaving inches between you, like he couldn’t quite make himself grow any closer. His left arm rested on his own hip, too afraid to reach out and touch yours. He’d asked to hold you. Why can’t he hold you? 

 

You took matters into your own hands. You blindly reached behind you, hands finding his. Your one superpower. You interlock your fingers with his and bring his arm around your waist, the heat of his body coming with it. You could probably feel his heart pounding chest now he allowed it to press against your back. You definitely felt the goosebumps climbing his arms when you pressed a feather light kiss to his knuckle. His heart leapt in his chest.

 

“What was that for?” He lifted his head, you don’t know it, but he can see enough of your face from this angle to catch the blush on your cheeks and the smile that crept onto it. He’s reassured by it. “Just felt like it.” You shrugged. Only he doesn’t buy it, but he won’t push his luck. His head hit the pillow, only this time, he’s closer to you. His nose is nearly buried in your apple scented locks. You were so sweet smelling at all times, but that apple was just so incredibly you. He knew you’d only used the stuff because it came in a green bottle too. Because only you would map your product selection on the colour alone. It was one of the first facts in your note cards, that your favourite colour was green.

 

Fuck. He thinks. He really fucking liked you. He wouldn’t even curse himself for it. You weren’t what he expected, and he liked that. He liked that this didn’t go to plan. He liked that he couldn’t pretend any longer. He was grinning to himself, chuckling even. He boldly buried his head in the crook of your neck like he’d done a couple of times that night but more invasively now there wasn’t much space between you. 

 

“What’s so funny?” You shook his hand in yours. “Hmm?” You fought a laugh yourself; his laughter was infectious; it was just stupid and cute. “Ash was right.” He said. You turned your head back slightly, unable to see anything really, before giving up and leaning into the pillow again. “Bout what?” He leaned his head on your shoulder, lips nearing your ear. “Told me this wouldn’t work.” Interesting really, since he ushered you into asking him into this at the start. You’re suitably confused. He’s holding you, giggling in your ear, body warm against yours in this stupidly large bed that he’d made feel tiny, after convincing your family how in love you are, and he said it wasn’t working. That Ash, your biggest influencer, had also predicted it. Well, you’d have said the opposite. 

 

“This isn’t working.” You have a questioning tone. “Didn’t seem like that downstairs.” You were defensive, rightly so. “No, not like that.” He started. Your grip on his hand loosened and he panicked. ‘Just say what you mean, say what you mean,’ he tells himself. “Turn over.” He leant himself up, still firmly on his side. “Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Please turn over.” He pleaded. “Whyy?” You say again. “Fuck, would you just-“ he shook his hand free from yours, placing it firmly on your hip and he twisted you, so you were flat on your back, facing up at him with surprise. He didn’t expect that to work as well as it did.

 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He huffed. “Thanks.” Your arms crossed over your stomach, you tried to avoid his gaze, but he manoeuvred himself so that he was directly above you. He decided you couldn’t be trusted to keep you gaze anywhere but on him. You had to give him a shot. Your expression had softened at the sight of him. Just like he’d hoped. His stupid round cheeks. The dumb smile. Why was he always smiling? 

 

“I wanna kiss you.” He said. You thought he was childish. “Is holding not enough?” He shook his head. “Never enough.” He leaned in close, but he doesn’t kiss you, not yet. His forehead just pressed against yours, his lips hovered, breath tickling your own mouth. “Can I?” He begged for it. “Yes.” You breathed. He does. His lips brush yours and it’s just as nice as every other kiss he’d given you. You’re not sure why you expected it to be different all of a sudden. You just had the idea that maybe it would be. Now that you, well now that you actually liked it.

 

But it wasn’t different, it was exactly the same. “Calum.” You whined. “Yeah?” He was upset that you’d interrupted such a crucial moment. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” Your fingers stroked over his cheek; he arched a brow to question you. “We have kissed before; you remember that right?” He teased. You couldn’t have been that drunk. “Yes. Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” He’s still not on the same page although relieved somewhat that you were in fact sober like he thought.

 

In his mind that kiss was perfect, electrifying, mind blowing, the best kiss yet, you’d have known it too if you didn’t stop him so quickly. “What’s it feel like?” He tried to understand. You thought for a moment. What did it feel like? Warm, soft, sweet, he was one of the sweetest tastes. Where most men would taste of mint, Calum didn’t. He tasted like cigarettes and the kiwi and strawberry gum he chewed to mask the scent of them on his breath. It didn’t work completely, it more meshed together into its own unique flavour.

 

It felt nice. “Feels normal.” You said it like it was a bad thing and he can’t understand why. “What’s so wrong with that?” You tried to shake your head. Shake some sense into yourself. You were blowing it. “Kiss me again.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He pushed his lips against yours, harder than the first time, much harder. Barely leaving a gap between you. Suffocating you with his kiss. He feels like this time he has to try harder; he needed to give you his all. There had to be more. 

 

His lips glided over yours, his lips rough but still careful. His tongue poking out slowly, licking gently over your bottom lip. You part it instinctively and the second his tongue slithered across your teeth, you finally felt it. You don’t know why it took you till the second try. You’re so grateful you felt it at all, but you were panicking for a second, thinking you’d made this huge mistake because how could you let yourself fall for him after all this nonsense? Then you felt it, that spark kicking you to life. That fire in your belly, burning you up inside, begging for his coolness to dampen it down. You fucking needed him.

 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails tucking into them just a little. He’s feeling the heat radiating from you, your energy pouring into him. He’s smiling against your mouth as your tongue meets his briefly. He just knows that this time, he’s got you. “You had me worried there for a second.” He panted, not wanting to pull away but needing to say something. You kissed him over and over, distracting him. Now you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “I know, I’m so cruel.” He smirked, kissing you back just as vigorously, hand coming to your throat, resting gently on it before tilting your chin up towards him.

 

You captured his eyes, so dark, nearing black in the dim light. If it weren’t for the golden flecks you’d be convinced they really were that dark. “Had to be sure.” He pecked your lips. “Yeah?” You did the same. “Yeah.” He’s so close that every time his eyes closed and reopened, you felt his lashes fanning your cheeks. “And now?” He asked so hopefully, heart on the line as he waited on your answer. You wanted to make him wait, torture him a little, not tonight, tonight you were kind enough to put him out of his misery. “Now I want you.” You said. He could have punched the air with excitement. 

 

You’re kissing again. Scrambling around, his body lowered on top of you, one hand resting on your cheek, the other grazing your hip bone. His body shuddered when you whimpered under the weight of him. You let your legs widen as he slipped between them, all before he lifted your thigh, depositing it safely around his waist. You prayed that he didn’t immediately feel the dampness in your shorts but you’re not the only one struggling.

 

His hard on rubbed into you, your lips parting with surprise. “Fuck.” He muttered, momentarily halting your make out session, the heat between your thighs overwhelming him. You sensed his embarrassment, his cheeks burning with it. “Me too.” You breathed. Lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose as your hand slipped between you, coming down to cup his bulge boldly through his shorts. 

 

The groan he released is sinful, maybe even painful. He felt big. He felt impossibly big. He wouldn’t fit in your hand, maybe not even in the two of them. He thrust into your hand when he felt you touch him. It was his first instinct; he couldn’t fight it. “Shit, sorry.” You caught his lips, tugging his bottom one between your teeth, releasing it slowly. “Gonna move my hand, want you to do it again.” If he thought he was embarrassed at his neediness before, it was about to get a whole lot more mortifying. 

 

Your hand moved away, he was grinding his hips down into you as you’d asked, and you felt the way his cock jumped into action. “Baby.” You panted. He’s sure his heart is going to explode, maybe his cock too, probably that first. “Say it again.” He needed it. “Baby.” You kissed him. He’s rocking his hips into you, you started rotating your own, rubbing yourself over his cock, hand moving out of the way. “Baby, baby, fuck.” He’s covered your lips with his, nose mashed up against you, you can’t breathe, you don’t even want to, you wouldn’t miss the feeling. All of this felt so much more important. “Feel so good.” You whine. He never would have thought you’d be so vocal. You didn’t seem like the type. Thought you’d be a bit of a brat maybe but not this, not confident and sexy and so sure of what you wanted. He could love that; he could love you. 

“More, need more.” You’re eyes rolled back when he’s lifting your hips with both hands, pulling your core over him. His cock slipping through your folds through too many barriers of clothing. “Shit Cal.” You felt the sensation of fire burning into you, setting you alight. You’re dizzy and hot and you just felt so good against him. The friction of his shorts might have been frustrating, but it was also, so rewarding. It was such a good roughness against your clothed mound. “Are you?” He can’t even say it, too busy dragging you over his cock. “I’m, fuck, Calum.” He doesn’t stop, not for a second, not for a beat. He makes you ride it out. He’s so stupidly proud of himself. He’d barely touched you and you’d come undone. You’d actually fucking came. “Fucking unreal for me.” He slowed himself down before he followed a similar path to destruction. 

 

He’s pushing your hips back down, letting your body sink into the mattress, pulling away from you to catch a breath. “I can’t believe that.” Your hand floats through your hair combing it back. He’s resting back on his knees, still between your legs. “You’re so fucking hot.” His eyes don’t look anywhere but your face. Your shirt is half way up your chest, bare tits poking out for him to see and yet, he doesn’t look.

 

You can’t say you share the same sentiment. Your eyes raced to the outline of his erection in them grey basketball shorts. You drank in the sight before you and your teeth clamped down into your lower lip. He reached down to squeeze your thigh. “My eyes are up here.” He gestured with his index and middle finger. You smirked up at him. “Kind of wish they weren’t.” You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” You nodded. Eyes falling back to his very, large problem that he now palmed through his clothing. Shit, even his own hand wouldn’t cover him.

 

“Gonna keep looking or do you feel like helping?” His voice was awfully steady for someone ready to come apart at the mere thought of your touch. “You want me to?” You’re not sure what you’re asking. “Need you to.” He said. You sat yourself up. “Gonna take this shirt off me first?” You looked up at him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen, somehow so innocent even though you were anything but. “Of course, I am.” His hands didn’t waste any time lifting the material off over your head. You felt the bite of a chill rush over you, your nipples hardening, perking up with it. “So, very, sexy.” He can’t believe his luck. You’re amazed that you don’t feel shy, being so exposed to him. Guess that was good, it felt natural, you felt safe. 

 

“Gonna help you.” You warned, hands slipping down into his shorts. You gasped at the immediate contact with his bare skin. “No underwear.” He smirked down at you. “Fucking slut.” Your hand cupped him just like before, yeah, definitely needs more than one hand. “You love it.” He chanted “I do.” You confirmed, squeezing him hard. The rush of air that left his mouth, oh it made this all so worth it. You tried to be bolder, you took his length in your palm for the first time. You gripped him tight and moaned in unison. He moaned at the feeling of finding home in your soft touch. You moaned; at the way your hand can’t even wrap around him fully. He’s too thick, too girthy, there wasn’t enough of you to take it all. 

 

“Do something.” He urged, forehead leaning on yours for stability more than anything else. “Ah right, that’s what I was doing.” You play as you sprang to action, your hand lifting to the throbbing head of his cock, letting the trickles of beaded cum roll into your palm before you can cover him in it using it whilst you twist your hand up and down his length. “Ohh, fuck.” It came out gravelly. He’d never thought much of hand jobs, said no to many throughout his life, never being worth the time, never feeling as good as his own hand. This though. You. Your hand. You touched him and he swore your hand was made to hold his cock. Even if that sounded ridiculous, there had to be some way of it being true because he felt so good. His cock was slick and hot, it glided through your grip with ease and your tightened fist on him, it was incredible.

You knew to tug him hard at the base, to loosen around his tip. To constantly use his pooling arousal to your advantage. You worked his cock better than anyone else could, maybe even better than him. You weren’t rushing, you didn’t wank him hard begging for it all to be over, getting bored of the feeling. No, you just touched him. Switching your pace. Listening to his hot little sounds. Paying attention to what made him twitch, what made him rut his hips into your palm. You loved touching him, you wanted to touch him forever, every which way you could. 

 

He started fucking your hand. He’s not sure he can stop himself and you’re so turned on by it you actually moan. “What are you doing to me?“ He’d never felt like this before. You’d made him so weak. He was desperately thrusting into your fist like a pathetic little virgin, and you were moaning. He had to be making this up, you weren’t real, none of this could have been real. “Fuck Cal.” You’re soaked at the idea of it all, you even clenched down on fucking nothing, the thought of him inside you instead of just the palm of your hand, it’s too much to bear. “Need to fuck me.” You quicken your pace, your hand tugging at him desperately. “Fuck, fuck. Stop, you gotta stop.” He doesn’t want you to, God knows he doesn’t, but if you don’t, he’s gonna fucking bust all over your perfect little hand. 

 

He forced your hand out of his shorts and you have the audacity to pout up at him when he does. “You’re something fucking else.” He pushed you back, your head drops happily onto your pillow. “Something good I hope.” You toyed with him, and he is about to lose it. “Take these off.” He tugged at your own shorts, and you didn’t budge. “Off.” He commands, climbing off the bed, feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the hotel room. 

 

You shifted behind him, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs, tossing the material to the general vicinity of you shirt. Your hands are once again in your hair, combing through it with nerves just eating away at you. You ached for him. Your thighs were squeezed so tightly shut you thought he might never pry them open again. You were on edge, literally dying there waiting. He’d dropped his shorts; they’d hit the ground quietly. He stepped out of them quickly, hand lifting to touch himself, he let out a quiet hiss when he did. He was so turned on, cock so tight and hot in his hand, he’d bury himself in you and never wish to leave. 

 

He climbed back onto the bed, settling on his knees like he had before. His hand rolled delicately across his tip, soaking himself still, using his own arousal to ready himself for you. His cock had a wet sheen in the light. You thought it looked even more delicious now with a coating like that. Perhaps your legs would part after all. “You sure?” He thinks he knows your answer, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t check. This had all been so perfect, better than he could have ever imagined because God, his imagination wasn’t half as creative enough to make you up. You were far better than anyone he’d ever known. The more he knew you, the better you got. Each and every layer, prettier or wittier or more perfect. You must have been real. Real and a gift made just for him because you had him hook line and sinker. He was dumb to credit himself for thinking he imagined you a few moments ago.

 

“Fuck me.” You spoke. He shook his head. Leaning over you, tip throbbing hard when it breached your walls for the first time before making a heady retreat, running through your slick, wet, lips instead. “Can’t.” He said. Running his cock up and down, eyes flickering shut, throat drying with his pure fucking thirst for you. “Why not?” You furrowed your brow. He’s right there, all he had to do was enter you. You could just lift your hips and he’d slip his fat cock inside. “Can’t call this fucking, not when you feel this good.” You think you might have passed out when pushed inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” He covered your lips to catch your moan. He didn’t think about the fact he’d be sinking in further, bottoming out, pelvis to pelvis with you when he did. 

 

Your legs wrapped around him so tightly your heels began to dig into his tasty, round backside. You fasten him in place intentionally. You needed to feel him. Needed to feel him in his entirety, pulsing inside you. He bit down on your shoulder till he tasted a metal zing of fresh blood, he’d apologise at a later date. For now, he needed it. You were sopping wet around him, engulfing his cock in a warm, tight sleeve. With each breath you took he slipped a little bit further inside. You felt so full you’d felt him bulging in your stomach, so far inside you it even hurt you.

 

“I need to move, gotta let me move.” He locked eyes with you before you nodded, loosening your legs, letting him withdraw his hips, pulling right back away from you, tip nearly leaving the crevice of your wetness. Then he pushed back in, all the way, hips against hips and you fucking moaned. You moaned so loud he thought he hurt you, ready to withdraw and panic at that thought. But then you lifted your hips to meet his. You meet his next thrust and then the next, and the next. You don’t let him do a damn thing without your involvement. You needed to be in this together because what’s the fucking point if you can’t give each other your all? 

 

“You’re so wet, soaking me.” You can only sigh, you’re not sorry, he got you so damn good he ought to be proud. “So damn hot. Gonna need to change the fucking sheets.” He rambled on. His hands dig delicious bite marks into your hips. Yours place a similar attack atop his shoulders. “Feel unreal.” You captured his lips in a needy kiss, chest pushing up as your back arched involuntarily. “Very real, so fucking real.” You muttered. As your back arched further, Calum found a place within you, a sensitive spot he angled into unexpectedly. A place you’d only ever touched yourself. You shook, and you clenched down on him, hard. 

 

He’d be an idiot not to notice it. You were clamping down so much he worried he’d lose circulation all together. “You want me dead don’t you?” He slammed his hips down into you. “Won’t be happy till I’m not fit for anyone else, that it?” His chest flattened against yours, his cock reaching that angle even more intrusively than before and you’re about to scream for it.

 

He’s got so much pressure leaning against it you’re about to crumble and he doesn’t even know it. “Calum.” You panicked, hands snaking into his hair, tugging his brown curls. He couldn’t get any closer to you and yet you needed it, wanted him covering you. “Fuck, you’re, fuck are you cumming?“ He leaned his head back, looking down into your eyes, you have tears brimming in them and he can’t believe it, he was so right. “Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice came out so weak, soft, precious, and broken and he thought you sounded like a needy little princess when you begged for him like that. “Anything, anything for you.” He meant it too. 

 

His hand wrapped around your throat loosely and tenderly as he coaxed your second orgasm from you. Your scream caught in your throat. He kissed you hard, breathing life erratically back into you. The way you tightened around his cock has his eyes roll back into his skull, his teeth biting down hard on your plump, cherry lips. He’s so close to cumming himself, but he will not let himself go until you’ve done it first. He had to make it through. He had to feel the way you came around his dick for the first time. Needed it imbedded in his brain as the religious experience it certainly felt like it would be.

 

“Calum, Calum,” you’re not even aware you’re yelling his name out there. You just do it. That’s what gets him in the end. Your pretty little voice wrapping around his name, securing the idea that he was in fact the guy who’d made you crumble into a mess in these sheets, twice. It was all him. “Where, fuck, where do you-“ he can’t even say it, can’t get the words out. “In me, need it in me, please baby.” 

 

He did as you asked, his hips pulsing into you, cock sputtering, leaking his hot cum inside you. You felt it all. Deep inside, covering you, damning you. You were claimed from the inside out. There wasn’t a single piece of you that wasn’t marked as his now. You sighed heavily at the thought of it. “So, fucking good.” You muttered. Him filling you was just so erotic to you. He’d felt exactly the same because of course he did, he was made for you. He loved that you’d let him take you like that. It felt heavenly pouring himself into you, coating you in his colours. Pulling out might just be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. 

 

His body covered yours. He’s no strength to hold himself above you, but no way of pulling away just yet. You’d not minded his weight at all. You’d actually enjoyed it, felt comforted by it. Even if your bodies were sweat soaked and desperately in need of another shower, it felt nothing but perfect lying here a little longer. Your fingers massaged into his scalp, he hummed at the relief of your touch. His breathing slowed down, softly blowing over your chest where his head lay comfortably.

 

You decided you loved the sound of him breathing. You can’t explain exactly why that is, but it offered you some kind of comforting stimulation that you think you’d listen to happily for hours. The mere existence of him, being enough to soothe you. “So that, uh-“ he licked his bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. “That happened.” You heart leaped and you know he felt it. “Don’t make it weird.” You nearly begged. “I’m not making it weird.” You poked his head. “You’re making it weird.” You accused, poking him again. “Would you stop?”

 

He lifted his head this time to avoid another attack. Well fuck. If he thought you looked beautiful before, it had nothing on the way you looked now. You were flustered and tired, your eyes wet with tears and probably sweat and yet, gorgeous. “You’re staring.” He hated you. “I can’t stop.” He’s lying. He could, he just never wanted to. “What will people think?” You gasped. “How will we tell them?” He continued, following your train of thought like he’d conjured it himself.

 

“Well, what do we actually have to tell? You know, to get our story straight.” He knew that was your not-so-subtle way of asking what you were, after all of this, but he doesn’t mind it because he’d also liked to know. As cliché as it was. It really did happen that fast. “Well,” he rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, watching as your face leaned into his touch. “Your family think we’re in love so, that’s kind of handled.” You laughed. “That you’re way of confessing your love for me?” You dig with a smile. “No.” Yes. But it was way too soon to verbalise that. Sure, you’d known him for a while, but this weekend was the closest you’d ever been. And yeah, he may have felt it in his bones, but he wasn’t crazy enough to admit it to you. Jesus Christ. “So, it’s just, everyone else.” He nodded, then repeated after you. “Everyone else.” Easier said than done. 

 

“What if I uh, slip you another 200?” He rolled his eyes. Only you would ask that. “Oh, because I haven’t whored myself out enough?” You grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits baby.” He nudged your nose with his own. “No but seriously, what would 200 get me?” You tried to deadpan but the smile refused to leave you. “I’m refunding it by the way.” You feigned shock. “My money not good enough for you Hood?” He looked at you with a ‘you really asking me that?’ look on his face. Though technically, you hadn’t actually given the money to him yet. “Only asked for it because I knew it’d piss you off sweetheart.” That hadn’t surprised you at all. “I dragged my ass to the bank for nothing.” He thought he might howl with laughter. 

 

“You got cash out?” There he goes, those chubby fucking cheeks, the crinkling eyes. “You actually withdrew 200 bucks for me?” You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. “I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE YOUR BANK DETAILS CALUM!” You yelled and he laughed harder, nearly rolling off you all together until he remembered he was still very much inside of you. “I’m so fucking dumb.” You face palmed with the embarrassment of it all. “You kinda are.” He agreed. He knew you’d hate his lack of support. “I like em dumb though.” He also knew he deserved the flick you gave him. “We’ll get you to the bank tomorrow, don’t you worry babe.” This time you didn’t flick him. “Not going anywhere tomorrow.” You sighed, arms wrapping around him. His stomach fluttered when you held him like that. “Why, what you got planned?“ He nuzzled his face happily into your breast, his spare hand squishing the other nicely. “Gonna get my fucking money’s worth that’s what.” 

[deadpool15]

Chapter 2

Monika POV

After walking out, I step inside the Street Women Fighter set. Looking around the room, I hear everyone cheering me on and just smile. Then I heard our iconic PROUDMON song and started to do our famous dance. Everyone starts to cheer even louder. Eventually, I go and sit down in the judges' chair, and the other judges are revealed. After Mike and Shownu step on, we start to move on to the actual competition. I start to slowly gaze around the room to see the difference in the crews, only to be stuck on one specific pair of gorgeous eyes.

It almost feels like time stops for a second, as chic as that sounds. I start to analyze everything about her eyes. The light green mixture of Christmas ornaments. I then look further down and stare at every aspect of her. She is fucking gorgeous. The most beautiful women I've ever seen. But once I look back at her eyes, I notice she is already staring at me with a dangerous gaze. Her eyes dont have an innocent glow. She is staring at me like she has other intents. Her eyes dont resemble precious ornaments, and no, they are full of wonder. She has more of a furious approach. They remind me of a deadly river.

I eventually break eye contact when Daniel starts speaking about the first part of the competition. I guess we are about to begin with the no-respect battles, so everyone is told to take a break to change their clothes.i can still feel her stare burning into me. And she isn't trying to be shy about it. Almost like she wants me to know, or maybe I'm just overthinking it. I've had to pee for a while, so this is the perfect time to use the bathroom. I make my way to the bathroom it took me a moment with these stupid oversized heels. I lot of complaints have been happening about bruising so they are starting to make our shoes fucking huge it seems. I step into the bathroom, cursing at this skirt that won't come off.

I stop for a moment when I hear someone coming inside the restroom as well. Then, I continue to pull this skin-tight ass skirt off my body. I finally pull it off and use the bathroom. After I'm done, I go through hell and back to get the skirt back on. It looks easy, but it's a difficult task. I walk out the bathroom and go to wash my hands and start humming to myself. I almost forgot there was another person in here until. Someone grabbed my shoulder. "Holy, shit," I said as I turned around only to see the familiar black women. I couldn't keep my eyes off off. She smiles at me, I notice her dimples and smiley piercing.

I realize I'm staring when she starts laughing. "Earth to Monika. I've been trying to get your attention for a couple of minutes. I'm pretty sure my face can't be that interesting. " She familiar stranger says while looks at me with her big beautiful eyes. "Oo, I'm sorry it's just you kinda scared me, so it took a moment," i say while laughing along with her. Then I take notice of her language, she is speaking korean. "You're from Jam Republic, right? I didn't know any of you could speak Korean. " I said while waiting for her response, her voice is amazing, by the way. She seems so lively but intriguing. "Yea, I was kinda raised her to be honest, oo, and I'm Ashley, by the way. I don't know. I'd judges have to look at everyone single profile, but I don't expect you to remember names. So I'd thought I save you the trouble." She says, seeming very excited to meet me. So, I respond with enthusiasm. "I'm Monika. Nice to meet you, Ashley", before I could speak further, she cut me off.

"I know who you are, i mean, i feel like i have to. You're our judge, so i had to check out your skills before anyone else. I came to say i hi and possibly get to know you. And i know what you're gonna say. This is a competition, and you can't really speak to me. I understand that, but i know how to separate wpkr from my social life. Plus, you're allowed to have friends, right?" She says while looking at me with a look I can't quite describe. Though I don't know her intentions, she could be using this as a way for a vote. "First of all, you called me what now?" She looks back at me and then at the ceiling. "Monika, or is that not your name, Ms. Shin. " She smirks while waiting for a comeback, though while any other time I could do it, my heart felt stuck.

She is flirting with me. I have to watch out for her. "Of course, I know what my name is, sweetheart, but in Korea, I'm pretty sure you know it doesn't work like that, don't you?" She looks at me smiling before her gaze goes further down my body. "Wow, you're a bold one, aren't you? This is a competition, I don't think it would be best for us to get to know each other right now. And by that look in your eye, I can tell you want to do a lot more then sit in talk. I'm way too old for you sweetie". I tell her, trying to keep a straight face. It's hard, though. It looks like she wants to devour me right here right now. But someone has to be the mature one here.

Ashley's POV

I stare at her, biting my lips again. It should be a fucking crime to look this good in a skirt. It's like she isn't aware of how amazing she looks right now. "I do want to talk, among other things. If it makes you feel better, we can start off by talking and working our way into more details later on. " I said while watching her reaction. Ive already come to terms with easy I want, she just doesn't know it yet. "Age means nothing. I mean, what's a 15-year age gap when we both know what we want? " She tries to speak before I cut her off again and move closer. "I'm aware of what I want, and you should know I always get what I want. I'll play your little game, though it seems fun. Be ready, sweetie. Seems i found a much better prize now, haven't I unnie?" She just stressed at me shocked.

"Well, see you back on there. Make sure to really keep your eyes on me, you know. It's always good to watch the real important people and who could be more important than me unnie?" I tell her while looking at her with faux innocence. "I can't wait to have fun with you, unnie. Bye-bye.

(I know this is shorter, but it's like 5 a.m., and I just woke up and remembered I fell asleep while writing this last night. So I'm sorry, guys, but I hope you like it)

I'm sorry for the late update. yall, I did finish it, but my dumbass is just now realizing I saved it to my drafts instead of posting it

[heartmix]

Tired - Malakai Black

Pairing: Malakai Black x fem!reader

Word Counter: 1k+

Warning: a swear word.

masterlist \ wrestling masterlist

It wasn't often you got any sleep. Traveling on the road for 85% of the year was bound to have you tired, especially when you couldn't fall asleep on your flight. Being a full-time wrestler and the manager for the House of Black was not for the weak. Those boys, although reserved and quiet, were quite needy. 

They didn't have anyone to train with despite there being 3 guys in a group? Manager steps in. Oh, all three guys wanted to train together, but it's an odd number and they needed to even it out? There you are. Buddy was giving Malakai and Brody a headache? Sure he can bunk with you and Julia, but only for that night. The good thing about Julia was she never nagged you for small stuff. Although being the youngest, she was very much independent. 

Today was filming day for Dark and Dynamite. Julia had a match on Dark, you had a segment for Dynamite, meetings for you and Julia, and the boys had a match on Dynamite during the main event. The day was full of stuff for you to pay attention to. You thanked the wrestling gods you didn't have a match today. 

You and Julia got right to work as soon as you came to the arena, the boys coming later (hoping Buddy doesn't make them late). The first three hours included hair and make-up, outfit change for your promo and Julia's match, going to film your segment, Julia's meeting, your meeting then out to the ring for Julia's match. Although you didn't have to worry about the boys, you were tired already. Walking into the House of Black locker room you let out a sigh expecting no one to be in there, but there was Malakai sitting on the back couch being a creep as always. 

"You okay boss?" He asked as you sat beside him leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling. 

"Yeah, first time I sat and relaxed in three hours. Actually no I need to respond to emails."  Malakai could see the evident tiredness on your face and in your voice. He felt bad that you were worrying about them, even though it's your job too. 

"The other two are in catering, you have peace and quiet now." He reassured.

"I'm lucky you're the one in here and not Buddy or Julia. They have so much energy."

"Well, I'll be here in quietness. We have two hours to kill before we go out." He squeezed your thigh in reassurance. Something you didn't know would help you relax.

"Mhmm. Thank you." 

After 10 minutes went by Malakai didn't notice any movement from you. Not your fingers typing away or you fixing your hair for the millionth time. He suddenly felt a weight on his shoulders. Looking down he found you asleep. Your phone hanging out of your hand. Never did you fall asleep randomly only occurring if you were really tired. 

Were you going to beat yourself up over this? Yes. Was he going to wake you? No. You needed the sleep. He knew the group wasn't easy to handle and he admired you for taking the role of manager for them along with being a full-time wrestler. Not once did you stop and complain. Did you yell at them, yeah sure but what manager wouldn't? 

A little over an hour passed, and soon all of you were due to be out for the main event. Everyone was ready except you. It was a wonder you didn't wake up while everyone was getting ready. Sure did Malakai send a death stare to anyone who entered the door, yeah, but it worked out in the end. Julia even offered to do his face paint for the night so he didn't have to move and possibly wake you. She secretly found it cute, but would not tell that to your faces.

"You should wake her up. She's gonna have our necks if she doesn't get changed and we don't stretch." Brody said making Malakai hum in agreement. 

"Darling....come on, you're going to kill us if you don't wake up." You heard the faint voice of Malakai. You also felt him run his hands through the hair that was in your face. 

"Hmmh. What the hell, did I fall asleep." You suddenly said lifting your head off his shoulder. The action caused you to feel dizzy. Immediately Malakai's hand went to the small of your back for support. 

"Out like a light. We all got ready and you didn't even stir a bit." Buddy said making you groan. 

"We got 45 minutes. You should get changed and I can touch up your makeup ." Julia said giving you a smile before heading to the bathroom to see what products she had to do touchups. The make-up artists were probably cleaning up their stations and were ready to hit the road. You would look like an asshole if you'd asked for a touch-up. 

"You're all going to get it. Go stretch." You groan making your way to the clothes you had hanging for the night.

"Especially you. I can't believe you let me sleep on you for a full hour. Now you're going to be tense. You better not get injured during the match." You found Malakai's eyes as he was changing into his attire for the night. 

"Do you forget that we practically live on planes? That nap was nothing."

"We'll see." You called out before making your way into the bathroom.

Forty-Five minutes seemed to pass by in an instant. Before you knew it, you were waiting in the gorilla with everyone. You studied the guys' movements to make sure they stretch properly, particularly Malakai. He saw you looking and gave you a little smirk and wink, already knowing what was going through your head. 

"Showtime." You heard Buddy say motioning to your and Julia's cue.

The match went great for the House of Black. All the guys had good spots, the crowd was still engaged despite having to watch two shows, and in the end, the guys won. Making your way up the ramp you felt Malakai drape his arm around your neck. You looked up and saw that he gave you a little smirk. 

"Think you could give me a neck rub, I seemed to be a little tense." He said making you roll your eyes with a smirk creeping on your face. 

"You're impossible." 

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Comparing Killers

I sent an ask to my buddy @insane4fandoms a few days ago, and in their reply, they mentioned potentially doing a character analysis for both MadPat and my very own fanmade cannibal EgoPat Caliban in the future.

(This stemmed from one of their latest drawings. Again, thanks so much for remembering my scrunglies, friendo ❤️)

SO, being the way I am, I took some random inspiration and now I'm going through with that exact analysis myself! Just following my instincts as a writer and all that stuff.

___

MadPat:

Now, just to get this out of the way because I have a sneaking suspicion that someone’s gonna read this and automatically assume I’m being stuck-up: I really like Mad as a character. Matt has done an amazing job portraying him. . .though, Matt just has a knack for unhinged characters in general, lol.

And thanks to Matt's acting skills, Mad is an enjoyable villain. He’s cluster of chaotic problems shaped like a man in his thirties, and we all love him for it. (Honestly, I kinda see Mad’s behavior as similar to that of The Actor from all of Mark’s projects. Comedically evil with a tendency to throw tantrums when things don’t go his way.)

The FNAF Musicals have made many slight tweaks to the lore of the games to not completely plagiarize the story. So, of course, Mad is a slightly-tweaked version of William Afton: it’s made very clear that his crimes include murdering kids. On top of that, he has no problem playing long-cons with pizzeria employees before eventually killing them, too.

We’ve seen plenty of times that Mad is pretty much never afraid to get violent. Oh sure, he tries to put a mask on when he needs to, but it’s easy to see all his urges beneath that mask. (And again, much like Actor!Mark, Mad ain’t too shy about being callous and hostile to almost everyone around him.) He’s very quick to anger. To make things worse, he’s also quick to desperation.

While Mad is too smart for everyone else’s good, he’s still pretty damn impulsive/irresponsible. His crimes were all concentrated on the pizzeria; it didn’t take very long at all for the disappearances to pile up and gain unwanted attention. Now, a bunch of missing-person-cases are one thing, but leaving evidence is quite another.

Hell, in the beginning scene of Web of Lies, the wacko-in-a-bearsuit himself literally said, “Every INCH of this place is INCRIMINATING! Ten minutes of poking around this place and they’ll discover what I did. . !”

If Mad were to hear of Caliban's work, he'd probably be impressed at first and automatically assume that Caliban is just like him, just with more people-eating. However, if Mad were to actually meet Caliban and get a better read on his personality, Mad would likely end up insulting him one way or another. He'd see Caliban's professionalism as tedious.

___

Caliban Crawford:

Though I've made it pretty obvious that he's my special boi, Caliban is an objectively bad person. He may be insane, but he’s not delusional enough to deny that. Whenever his and/or Murdock's targets happen to be alive when they’re dragged to his den, he can be very, VERY sadistic throughout the butchering process. (Especially if the target has done something to personally affect him, Azalea, or any of his other peers.)

Sure, he doesn’t complain about working with dead bodies, but having a live meal is quite a special occasion. In such cases, he enjoys watching the unfortunate soul in question squirm and listening to them scream/beg. Taunting, dragging things out, making morbid puns all over the place, the works.

Despite all this, I’ve specifically crafted Caliban to be an extremely morally-gray character. (To be honest, the only fanmade ego of mine who’s full-on evil is LeviathanPat.) He’s still able to be logical/rational when he needs to. He takes pride in his self-control; yes, he has cravings for human flesh, but he knows he can’t afford to just attack any person he sees whenever he gets hungry. He knows he has to be EXTREMELY CAREFUL in order to keep his business away from the authorities. So, he only eats those he and his peers (Murdock, Azalea, etc.) are hired/paid to bump off.

On top of that, Caliban still has some humanity left. While he’s obviously nowhere close to a perfect angel, he’s still able to form genuine relationships and treat those in his circle with kindness/respect. Get on his good side, and you'll have quite a strong ally.

Though his morals are limited, one of the biggest differences between him and Mad is the fact that Caliban would never, NEVER stoop so low as to harm a child. In fact, he tends to avoid children altogether due to his own childhood trauma. (Totally not me projecting because I grew up in a dysfunctional family with verbal/emotional/psychological abuse.)

Getting back to the juicy stuff: Caliban is smart and efficient with his work. He prides himself on not leaving any evidence behind. (Yes, he still makes occasional mistakes, but even then, the aforementioned evidence still comes in very tiny amounts.) That's why he and Murdock became friends and started working together in the first place: since Caliban divides up which parts can be cooked/eaten and which parts can be sold on the Black Market, it really is easy for targets to just seemingly vanish into thin air.

Though my stories involving Caliban probably show him acting calm (despite his pun-addiction, lol), please, PLEASE don't be fooled. He's got just as much unhinged energy as Mad. He just happens to hide it a bit more often. But he definitely has his chaotic moments; half of the time it's out of unhinged joy, and the other half of the time it's because an enemy pissed him off enough to get their skin privileges revoked. (Basically, it's not that much of a stretch to see Caliban as a combination of The Hermit and Mack.)

Now, if you've seen @insane4fandoms artwork of him, then it's pretty clear that some inspiration was taken from Hannibal Lecter. And while I definitely appreciate references like that. . .well, that inspiration is mainly just for Caliban's appearance. I've said before that Caliban is nowhere near as arrogant as Hannibal. Even so, if Caliban were to see/hear about all of Mad's shenanigans, he'd write Mad off as being sloppy and unimpressive. If he were to actually meet Mad, his opinion would just get worse; he'd see Mad as a fair bit annoying and bratty.

___

@sammys-magical-au @b-is-in-the-closet @im-a-weird0 @themarpsimp @lexusinsannus @crazy-obsessed-enby @rozeliyawashereyall @gaymingintrovert @lampsforsocks @forestcouncil @x-hotrose-x @v1rus-seal

[turtledotjpeg]

(chapter 400 spoilers)

i have been fed and i must make stupid internet doodles about it

my wife is so successful and popular (said with distress) and she is doing her best and she just wanted to do healing and said 'noooo' to murders and she cried about kacho and hates being called old and kurapika is the only one she can rely on and i'm gonna cry

more thoughts (not interesting) under the cut because this is an art blog but I am compelled to yell into the void about this chapter

man I was ready to be happy just to see Melody for one panel, but there was So Much in this chapter 🥺 feels like we're getting to see some new facets of her personality (see: Old Maid Melody lmaoo) and it's so fun

it was nice to see her and Kacho getting to interact a bit more openly - for some reason I was expecting nen-Kacho to be more of a separate entity, rather than the "brought back to life" kind of deal where she basically feels and acts like she's the same person? I like it though, I want to see her messing with Melody some more lol

I was wondering if Kurapika's goal might come up re: the fourth prince's invitation, but it seems like the immediate concern with Fugetsu takes priority, which makes sense Zhang Lei also wanting a private audience is interesting, I wonder if that could give her and Kurapika an opportunity to meet up and plan things out before she visits terrorsandwich? Before all that, though, they'd have to deal with Benjamin (assuming it's a first-rank-first-served kind of deal), no idea how that's gonna work out unless they actually pull off the Just Murder Everyone plan

also lmaooo the love confession 😂 one the one hand I feel like all her initial suspicion and mistrust towards glasses guy has to be a setup for him to actually be more honest than she expects, but I still can't help being a bit skeptical of him... both because there has to be something going on with the heartbeat thing, right?

and also, even if it is probably what's most practical for the situation, I'm not toootally sure if I love this "stop being sad and go use your powers to help us do murders" thing lol (granted kacho was very on board with both of those, too, but. idk man, maybe at least try to comfort her a little or something? xD)

that said, he is kind of risking his neck to help them, and i Am extremely in favor of anyone and everyone being in love with melody, so i appreciate him for that haha

okay, totally baseless "theory" #1: he's melody's dead sonata friend possessing the body (& therefore lying about the not believing in ghosts thing) - probably unlikely given Fugetsu is also said to be "possessed" and that looks very different, plus it sounds like that's something Melody should be able to notice? but it'd give him a genuine motive to help her out while lying through his teeth about all the details

or totally baseless theory #2: he's literally just a normal guy with a medical condition

melody: but I just don't get it, HOW can your heartbeat be so calm and steady all the time?!? kaiser: oh, cause of the pacemaker you mean? melody:

(**based on about 2 minutes of research I don't think that's quite how pacemakers work, but it's hxh universe, there could be Something)

(on an unrelated note, I also really liked Tyson in this chapter…sounds like she was basically pressured into a death battle she assumes she won't win, but she's still just out here baking birthday cakes and trying to have a good time :( rootin for her)

...and finally can I just say, even if there was a good reason for it, I think it's hilarious that Melody's reaction to someone liking her is just "hmm... 🤔 kinda sus" alternative responses to "i love you": "with a heart rhythm as precise as an atomic clock?! yeah right!"

[tonight-i-may-see]

A Drop of Blood (Spencer Reid x Male!Reader)

Chapter 1

(Note: Welcome to the first chapter of A drop of blood! I've been really excited to finish and post this so I hope you all like it :3)

AO3: x

CW: Descriptions of gore, mentions of addiction, combination of real world and fantasy elements, mdni.

Word count: 2.1k

Dividers by: @cafekitsune x x

“Four bodies, all male, all drowned and missing their hearts.” 

“That’s a new one.” Derek’s brow furrowed as he looked over the pictures JJ had distributed. Waterlogged corpses with holes just under the ribs, the same on each body. 

“It looks like the hearts were pulled out…” It’s a terrifying thought, but from the silence that falls over the room it would seem Emily was right as she squinted in disgust, suppressing a shudder. “These bodies were found weeks apart, why weren’t we called in sooner?” 

JJ had no answer, neither did Hotch, both just shaking their heads with clear disapproval towards the actions of the coastal town’s sheriff. The silence, however, wasn’t kept for long. “The heart is usually seen as a symbol of emotion- particularly love and affection…the victims all being male means it’s likely the unsub was betrayed by a former love,” Spencer rambled, gesturing at different aspects of the images.

“A woman scorned…” Rossi added, nodding slowly, but a frown of disagreement settled on the younger profiler’s features. 

“Actually, with the strength it would take to drown some of these men, it’s more likely we’re looking for another man.”

This time, Emily disagreed. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean we should completely rule out a woman. I mean, tearing out the heart? You said it yourself, that’s revenge. It’s more common for female killers.” 

The sound of a sudden phone ringtone tore the focus from the group. “Hotchner.” It must be serious, because Hotch stood up quite abruptly, shuffling pictures back into folders. “And he’s alive?” That shook the room, and everyone else followed suit, packing up the papers and getting ready to leave the office. He ended the call with a muttered ‘We’ll be there as soon as possible.’ then turned to the team, “There’s a fifth victim, he’s alive. I want you all ready to go in twenty.” 

One eighty minute flight later, the jet landed and the team made their way to a small coastal town in New Hampshire. JJ and Rossi went to the beach where the bodies were washing up, Morgan and Prentiss stayed at the station to learn more about the victims, and Hotch and Spencer were taken to the hospital to meet the fifth one…the living one.

The stark white walls and loud machinery in the room were overwhelming to most people, and it’s clear whatever trauma the poor guy had endured was making it much worse for him to listen to. It was almost like he was afraid of it all as they watched him through the window into his room. “He’s pretty much unharmed,” The doctor explained, shaking his head in disbelief. “No water in his lungs and all of his wounds are superficial.” 

“That doesn’t account for his mental state.” Hotch pointed out quietly. It was worrying, seeing a young man seemingly so panicked by his surroundings. “Do we know his name?”

“No…” He’s told with a sigh. “The poor boy is so shaken up he barely understands what I’m sayin’ half the time.” That wasn’t exactly a hard feat, the doctor was an older guy with a voice that would probably be best described as muffled. Spencer was struggling a bit even with an attempt to lip read. 

“Can we speak with him?” Another sigh escaped the doctor. Small town cases always had this, the people (usually men) who just didn’t trust an outside source intruding on their community. Both agents suppressed the urge to roll their eyes, just as their colleagues were likely doing too.

“Try not to stress him out.” He warned as he let them in, guiding them over to the bed where the victim silently stared at them, his eyes wide. “Son, these men are with the FBI, alright? They’re gonna help you out.” And with that, the doctor walked out, clearly having had enough of dealing with his mute patient for the time being.

Hotch spoke first, gently and slow enough that the young man could follow along if things were too overwhelming. “I’m Agent Hotchner…this is Doctor Reid…do you know why you’re here?” 

There was a long pause, and he just stared at the two of them, blinking almost too slowly. Spencer noted that despite being submerged in saltwater less than three hours ago, his eyes weren’t bloodshot. 

“Do you know your name..?” Hotch tried instead, raising an eyebrow. There’s another long silence, but this time the victim hesitantly nodded. “Can you tell us your name, please?” This time he shook his head, and Spencer almost did a double take, his mind going at a million miles a minute to figure out why that was the answer they’d received- perhaps he couldn’t talk, or was deaf, he was staring directly at them when they spoke- or maybe the unsub threatened him, told him he’d hurt him or someone else if he made a sound. 

“What do you want us to call you?” Spencer asked, just in case he was correct to think the latter. The young man looked around the room, still not uttering a single word.

“I’ve been calling him Five.” Hotch tried his hardest not to swing around as soon as he heard that damn doctor’s grating mumble again. He had appeared at the door to listen in on the questioning, folding his arms. Obviously, Hotch wasn’t about to allow that, it was awful to call someone the victim number they were.

“Absolutely not-” 

“...Five.” The strange man repeated, silencing the room. 

Just from that, the two profilers gathered plenty. His voice was raw, potentially from shouting, or potentially from swallowing salt water… and his accent was almost impossible to place. The poor thing had clearly suffered. Hotch wants to refuse again, but this was the first thing he’d said at all if the doctor was to be believed, and maybe he’d share his actual name once he trusted them.

“Five…alright, can you tell us what happened to you?” 

He doesn’t tell them. Mainly because he’s insistent that nothing happened to him, but that was incredibly hard to believe when he legally didn’t exist. No prints on the system, he won’t give them his name- hell, the blood test results came back unreadable. Truly, he was an anomaly, and they couldn’t help the powerful feeling of sympathy that overcame the two of them- it was honestly a little alarming how much they felt the need to protect him.

“Can I ask why we weren’t called in sooner?” It’s more than obvious that Emily had been waiting to ask the chief of police this since they first shook hands. The chief didn't look her in the eye as he sighed and wiped his face wearily.  

“It happens every year. A couple guys turn up dead when the waters get rough, and then it ends and we move on. Different time every year, but always like that.” He pointed to the photos of the bloated corpses, seemingly unphased by the deep holes in each dead man’s chest. “But it’s never more than three…this is five.”

Hotch looked like he wanted to kill someone, his signature frown paired with slightly wider eyes than usual. “You have a serial killer in your town, and you just left it?” 

“You really think something human did this?” The chief asked, causing the whole team to roll their eyes, this happened in so many small town cases- everyone knew everyone and there couldn’t possibly be a murderer, so it must be some urban legend or myth killing all these people.

Unless there was an outsider.

Derek suggested it first. After reconvening at the police department and hearing Hotch talk about the fifth victim, he only had one thing to ask: “How do we know this guy isn’t our unsub?”

The two that had visited him were taken aback for a moment, normally that was right up there with their first assumptions, but it was like their minds had blanked the moment he’d looked at them. “We don’t.” Hotch said firmly, trying to recover from a pretty embarrassing oversight. 

Spencer, however, still seemed a little iffy on it. “There’s no way he’d be strong enough to do that to those men…he’s innocent.”

Everyone froze, looking at him like he’d grown a second head, that was awfully conclusive for Reid, especially with little to no evidence. “And how do you know that?” Rossi asked, a little unnerved by how out of character that was. He wanted to give Spencer the benefit of the doubt, expecting a long winded ramble proving this fifth…victim’s innocence.

“He…I don’t know. I just have a feeling.” He contested, a small frown of frustration on his face. 

“Well, a feeling won’t find who’s killing these men, so let's get to work.” Hotch instructed, giving the others a look to confirm they’ve also noticed Spencer’s odd behaviour. It was worrying, to say the least, seeing as the last time he was this brash and abrasive he was deep in the throes of addiction.

Nothing. There was absolutely no evidence on the bodies or information from the victims to prove anything about the unsub. All that they knew so far was that every victim had spent a lot of time at the local beach in the weeks leading up to their deaths. There was no history of abuse or antisocial behaviour from any of them, no one who would want to harm them. Nothing. 

Hotch was beginning to grow frustrated by the end of the day, and decided if he wanted to get more information from ‘Five’, he’d need to go and see him without Spencer. From this point onwards, the younger profiler had been marked as biased, and he wasn’t going to allow him anywhere near the victim if he could help it. 

Once the rest of the team were settled in their hotel rooms for the evening, Hotch took the opportunity to go back to the hospital, finding his way back to the room where Five was being kept. The whole ward had an odd feeling to it that he couldn’t quite place…the nurses seemed like they weren’t all there behind the eyes and Five’s doctor was nowhere to be found. The young man was certainly different than when they had first met- he’d been allowed to put the clothes he’d been found in back on, clothes that gave Hotch more questions than answers. They were old…not vintage, old. A cotton shirt and trousers that looked worn enough to need patches on the knees, the once white fabric covering his torso now yellowing to a beige-brown. The question on his tongue was held in place when Five looked up at him, and he felt his blood run cold. Something was freezing him in place as Five slowly tilted his head, there was a dip in the top of his pupils- just for a moment but he knew what he saw- 

Five didn’t speak. He didn’t have to, he saw the horrified expression on Hotch’s face and slowly reached forward, grasping his hand tightly.

Reflections, 1987…the book feels heavy in Aaron’s hand as he walks down the hallway, headed to find his friends so they can all laugh at the photos and sign each other's back pages. They’d agreed to meet in one of the empty classrooms, but he couldn’t remember which one, so he hazarded a guess and pushed open the door to what he thought was his friends’ muffled conversation. 

‘Pour, O pour the pirate sherry;

  Fill, O fill the pirate glass;

And, to make us more than merry

  Let the pirate bumper pass.’

A girl stands on one of the tables among the group, the only one not wearing a paper-mache pirate hat, her blonde hair shining in the fluorescent lights. His heart stills a moment, his eyes going wide as he takes a deep breath…that was her. He’d never felt so sure of anything in his whole life- and he sure as hell didn’t believe in fate, but this was something so visceral that he couldn’t question it. He was going to marry her.

Five yelped and cowered away from Hotch, a look of anger and betrayal in his eyes that was as confusing as it was startling. “What did you do to those men?” Hotch hissed before he could even think about the consequences of an accusation like that. No answer was given, but for a moment he swore he could taste saltwater as he tore his eyes away from the supposedly frail man on the bed. Something was very, very wrong here, and that something had definitely already gotten to Spencer.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @ralvezfanatic @samsgoddess @pisceslovrr @noelslibrary

[toomuchracket]

need some fiancé matty fluff so bad rn, also reader & matty‘s wedding!

let’s be honest, matty would cry watching you walk down the isle at ur wedding. full on tears and he’s not even bothering to wipe them away, he’s just so in love and he doesn’t care who knows it

Have you ever seen those videos of George and Charli DJing ?? I love them so much I imagine them having a set at the wedding 🥹🤍

the wedding!! basing this off of the venue being in london. after the rehearsal dinner finishes in the afternoon, i think you and matty have some time alone at home before you go off to do the "spending the night before the wedding apart" thing. you chill, have some wine and a bit of sexy time (imagine telling matty during sex that "next time we do this i'll be your wife". he'd lose it), before charli drops george and the boys off (they're staying in your house with matty that night) and picks you up so the two of you and the rest of your bridal party can stay in a hotel near your venue. and matty's halfway through the passenger window clinging to you before you leave like "please don't leave me at the altar like a twat" and you're like "as if i'd do that you're the love of my life! meet you there tomorrow" and you kiss.

and then matty looks at charli and goes "and don't you even think about seducing my missus into a torrid lesbian affair tonight" (as she threatens to do quite often, as a bit) and she winks and goes "no promises, healy, i mean look at her", and matty looks at you dreamily and says "... yeah" and you're like "you're gonna cry so bad tomorrow huh" and he's like "absolutely", then kisses you again before charli drives off. and the two of you have fun with your friends/families, but neither you or matty can fall asleep because you're not with the other :(( and he texts you like "can't sleep lol" and you reply "me either lol going for a smoke", and he's like "i'll do the same". so you're out on the hotel balcony and matty calls you and you guys just chat for a bit and it's really sweet, then he goes "s'past midnight angel, we should both get some sleep" and you say "yeah, it's technically our wedding day already and neither of us have gone to bed" and he laughs and says "so it is. sweet dreams, darlin'. see you in a bit" and you both go back to bed and actually manage to sleep. you're both up early, though - you get your hair and makeup all done before the bridal party gets glam, and matty takes mayhem for a really long walk and rehearses his speech on the way before he goes home to get ready. and the two of you are sending voice note updates and its making you even more excited about the day, and then it's time for some pics and then you're ready to go! and matty's probably in a black suit as per, but like the best black suit he's ever worn, and he doesn't even register the bridesmaids walking in because he's too busy craning his neck to catch a glimpse of you. and then you appear and he cries - your dress is perfect, you're glowing, and you just look like YOU, the love of his life. and you're smiling so big at him as you walk down the aisle (it's taking everything in you not to run to him), and when you reach him you say "hi handsome" and matty's like "you're perfect" and you giggle and reach up to wipe the tears off his face and he kisses the palm of your hand as you do, which everyone in the congregation swoons at. you cry at his vows. he cries at yours. adam's son passes the rings up with no problem, his dad behind him quietly sobbing. and then it's time for the kiss - matty being matty, he does something dramatic, either dips you like an old hollywood film or just grabs your face and kisses you. but it's a perfect kiss, full of love and contentment and joy, and then you sign the marriage certificate and that's it! you're married! and you have a little minute alone afterwards where matty's like "you're my WIFE" and you're like "hell yeah i am", and he says "well, wifey, can i kiss you?" and you're like "yeah i wanna make out with my husband". so you do, passionately, and it could turn into full-scale fucking but you both compose yourselves and go out to be congratulated by everyone before it does lol.

and the rest of the night is perfect, too. everyone's happy and laughing throughout the meal and george's best man speech, and crying at matty's (which he just recites to you off by heart). and then the boys get ready and play for you and matty's first dance (accompanied by phoebe, maybe) and it's PERFECT. after that, george and charli do a little dj set to start the party, and you and matty flit between dancing and chatting to people. it soon turns into all your producer and musician friends just taking turns to control the tunes, everyone getting a little tipsy and just having a great time. and there's so much love in the room, specifically between ross and your best friend/maid of honour, who have literally been glued to each other all night - you tried to dance with her to the spice girls but she was too preoccupied kissing him next to the bar lol. and then i think you and matty sneak out for a little smoke, and your hair's a bit messy and you're a little tipsy but you're so happy and matty takes a pic of you, cig in hand and all, because you just look the most beautiful he's ever seen you. and you're like "omg no i look like a mess" and he's like "nope that's my new lockscreen" and you giggle and just kiss him for a bit. and matty says "you're perfect. today's been perfect. i love you so much, wifey" and you say "i love you. can't wait to spend the rest of my life showing you that", and you cuddle. and matty's hands start to get a bit touchy and you're like "excuse me, husband!" and matty's like "as much as i'm enjoying today i just really want to take my wife home now" and you're like "actually fair i think you'll enjoy what i'm wearing under my dress (custom lace set lol)". and matty's like "right that's it i'm stopping the party now!" and you giggle and say "i love you" and he kisses your nose and says "i love you too" <3

[yellowocaballero]

milagro!!! i LOVE GL!milagro stuff. is guy still the first GL she meets? i am v curious what his story (and john’s) ends up looking like in this au in general, but my first exposure to him was in jaime’s bb run so i’m hoping that pseudo mentorship still exists here somehow

IS!! THAT!! A GIANT!! GREEN!! FIST!!

Green Lantern Milagro is the most god-tier take and we need to return to it. My "Kyle rebuilds the GLC to be woke and Milagro is the most feral Lantern" idea is actually super old - I think it's in the Reverse Robins Universe, in some unpublished stories - but it's still good. Let the furries make the judicial system. Do it. Let them free.

Let's say:

Guy Gardner was the second Green Lantern on Earth. Everything that Hal was, Guy is not. He's a hothead, meathead, go-getting action hero wannabe who has to be the biggest, the best, and the strongest. He's abrasive, selfish, mean, and short-sighted.

Guy Gardner is exactly like Hal Jordan: an All-American hero, angry and rude in a way that his colleague John Stewart could never get away with. He's part of the NRA and thinks Trump has some points. Too wimpy to make a good President, though. Give him a President who can last five minutes in the ring with Guy Gardner!

Despite his differences with the more professional and cool-headed Hal, he was shocked and horrified at Coast City's destruction. Where other heroes expressed sympathies and turned away in discomfort with his overwhelming pain, Guy stayed with him. He doesn't like to spread it around, but he's a registered school councilor - doubled with his middle school gym teacher thing - and he stayed at Hal's side through his grief as long as Hal let him.

When Hal disappeared, Guy was the one who knew in his heart that he had killed himself. He had been expecting it.

He had not been expecting his ring to break.

Guy loses it all. His power, his respect. He can't go back to who he used to be. He's not a gym teacher or school counselor anymore. He's Guy Gardner. You can't ask Guy Gardner to be a civvie.

The only thing he keeps is his Justice League International membership. He wanted to quit, but his friends (family, but none of them would admit it) needed him to stay. They had already lost the second Blue Beetle so recently, and they can't lose anybody else. Booster Gold's grieving his husband too. In that way, in some way, Guy's still needed. Guy has to be needed. But Guy has to be a hero too, and he feels like he's dying slowly by degrees in powerlessness.

Then Booster calls the JLI, drunk as a skunk and deep in a panic, saying that there's this kid in El Paso running around with Dan Garret's scarab in his SPINE, how did this even HAPPEN, how did he get it WORKING, where the hell is TED - Ted's dead, he's still dead, what the FUCK do we do, he's a baby he's gonna DIE TOO, everyone's gonna DIE -

A gym teacher and licensed counselor knocks on he door of a house in El Paso.

Booster was right. Jaime Reyes is a snot-nosed kid who's getting his ass kicked up and down to Sunday in every fight, and either he's gonna get himself killed or he's gonna blow up the city. Nobody else but the JLI ever gave a shit about Ted, and nobody's gonna give a shit about this kid with an orphaned legacy. He needs a personal trainer and mentor and he needs one right now. Jaime Reyes needs a hero, even a washed up old asshole like Guy Gardner.

And his little sister throws a heck of a punch. Oh, Guy is keeping Milagro. She's learning boxing!

An asshole, shallow kid enters the scene. A new ring appears. The last Green Lantern disappears to find the truth. Guy leads his own life. It's not like his old one, but it's good. That kid Jaime's become a good hero, and his little sister is the coolest kid on the planet. A Trumper on the street says something shitty to Jaime and Milagro about illegals and Guy lands on him the signature Guy Gardner punch. Trump's an asshole idiot, anyway. Next time, Milagro lands the signature punch. She has learned well.

A young man returns. A truth is told. A fucked up orange ring is on Guy's finger. And now he'll have to learn how to be a hero all over again.

The orange ring isn't powered by bravery and willpower. It's powered by greed. It's a greedy, cruel ring. It's mean. But Guy's pretty greedy too. And Guy's a mean son of a bitch.

Guy Gardner is the first Orange Lantern. And he's everything Hal Jordan is not: a man with a voracious need to protect and help. A man with an endless appetite for love, and to give love. A school counselor, and a mentor to some pretty nifty kids. Guy can never get enough of being a hero. He'll never stop. And he'll always help.

Because he's Guy fucking Gardner!