#i never know what to call you because you changed your name and you were turtle in my mind before lol

[acid-ixx]

You know what would be a good add for you yan bat fam fic? We refer to our father as Bruce! We don’t call him dad or wtv we call him by his name sense we don’t see him as a dad!

I can just imagine the heartbreak look on Wayne’s face!! Ooo even better if we call him by his last name!

a/n: this !! it's already hinted at during chapter one that you literally despise writing bruce wayne as your father in legal documents and even hated him to the point of changing your last name back to your mother's after your eighteenth birthday. the angst potential was stated in this drabble so it's something i had already expanded on but i love talking about my plans for the story so yk. this is basically the reader disowning their own father LMAO. p.s. one of the paragraphs here would be used for the next chapter !!

bruce knows that you have every right to not even refer to him as your father— he is way beyond unworthy to be called "dad" or "father" or any parental name you had in mind. but he wishes you have a sliver of love to even refer to him as "bruce" like your other siblings would call him.

but no, the world always has something else in mind.

"sorry, mr. wayne. but i am not your child, and will never see myself as one. and you? you will never be my dad."

your heartless tone, the way you look at him like he wasn't your father, but a mere stranger. maybe in your mind, he was just a sperm donor for your mother, and he knows he would only amount to that, seeing as how he wasn't even there for when you were born; not acknowledging your existence for five years and simply taking you in when your mother had left you, then forgetting about you again—

it's now that it isn't batman who has gone too far but bruce wayne. your supposed father, the man who should've been there for you, to nourish your growth, watching you as you accomplish all the great things in the world.

he was supposed to be the man who should've kissed your wounds away whenever you go out to the park with him to play. he should've been the man who would sit on the crowded bleachers to watch you perform on a talent show. he was supposed to be the father who would hold you close to your chest as you cry about your first heartbreak, about your overdue projects, about the bullies in the school.

but he wasn't that father for you. and now, you seek love and attention from people who weren't even family. because they had failed you, he had failed you.

it reminds him of all the times he was left brooding alone, in the manor as he forces himself to remember the scene of his parents dying all over and over again.

yet it was you, his precious baby, that he had lost. not physically, but emotionally and spiritually.

he doesn't want to lose hope at any instance for redemption but fuck, he doesn't want to delude himself into thinking you would easily forgive and forget.

but damn it all, because he would have nothing to lose to show you just how much he loves you. and he will, he will spoil you rotten to the core, he'll give you the entire world if that meant he would hear you would call him your "dad" just for once.

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request NSFW headcanons for 5 WHB Kings finding their gn s/o masturbating while calling his name please?

Hello 🪶 anon! I will be happy to do these headcannons for you!

Whb Kings catching gn!S/o moaning their name while masturbating.

Satan

At first he would be trying to look for you. After Sitri told him that you seem to have stepped away somewhere, alone. Annoyance bubbling within him, melting into anger as he power walks down the pristine Halls. He swears if it's Leviathan or Mammon or Beelze-fucker he's going to-

A sound cuts him out of his thoughts. He knows that sound... It is you and it's familiar. Coming toward your room your door not fully closed all the way He takes a peek. His red eyes widen at the sight your fingers desperately trying to give yourself pleasure. Your muffled squeaks are adorable, the smell of your arousal heavily addicting. Yes he could barge into your room and pounce on you but. Why do that? He could fuck you any day he wants... But watching you like this? This will never happen again.

Mammon

So he watched you closely His breath low and heavy, His hand sliding into his pants to palm his erection. He even tries to follow your hand. However, he changed his mind when his name slipped from your lips, flinging open the door so hard it smashed off its hinges.

Before you can even react or even think he ripped off his own clothes grabbing you by the legs before putting it over his shoulders. He's going to make you scream his name evenn louder than your little cute whimpers.

Masturbating or not, he barges in; even as you cover yourself, it's already too late. He has seen everything. And he looks hurt? "Master, if you need me, you could have said so..." Is he not pleasuring you enough where you have to resort to your own hand? No, that will not do. He immediately climbs into your bed, taking your fingers stained with your juices and putting them into his mouth.

"how many times do I have to remind you that I'm yours to do as you please?" He gives you a smile. He's going to have to fuck you even better so good that you'll never have to use your hands again. Perhaps you would want more than just him? Maybe he should call Bimet, Eligos, and Valefor...

Leviathan

Your modesty is as annoying as it is cute. He shall beat it out of you with his dick if he has to. When will you learn that you deserve to be spoiled?

However, before he gives himself to you, He thought to give you a little punishment. In exchange for his cock you are going to tell him all the little lustful thoughts you were having when you were moaning his name. Desires that he will definitely make come true one day

He should be the only one fucking you. However a surge of satisfaction (and a raging boner) runs through him knowing that you were calling his name. And to his knowledge He is the only one watching... He is the only one who saw you like this!

A part of him wants to make himself known, as with each shutter and gasp of his name, Levi whimpers back, wondering what kind of filthy fantasies you could be having to make you react like that; he should be the only one touching you like that! Whatever your fictional version of him is doing, He could probably do that and more! It doesn't have to be a fantasy when you have him!

Beelzebub

But of course he can't just barge in, slap your hand away, and bring himself in between your plush thighs where he belongs. Because that would mean him admitting that he likes you or would want to do that. So he's just going to stand there and watch pathetically stroking his cock in jealousy and wanting.

He should forbid you to ever touch yourself when you're in Hades... He fell apart so quickly with his own hand just by watching you. He doesn't want a hand to go near your privates ever again if it's not his!

Seeing you touch yourself is already irresistible The smell of your arousal filling the air, already guiding him toward you. His mouth is drooling, hungry for the taste of you. And as your soft lips are out his name, He loses it. Hope you're prepared to not walk for the next few days.

"did you miss me that much that your little fingers are making you messy? Don't worry I'm here," He says with a sly smile. The first thing he does is put his mouth on, already messy and wet from your previous solo play. Nice and ready for him to taste. Eating you out after masturbation is probably going to have to be his favorite thing to do from now on. You smell of musk and sex And you taste so good.

Lucifer

He will fuck you silly and doggy while you watch one of his clones masturbate and call you out by your name. That's the clone's cock twitches and jumps as they whimper for you. Beel Go whisper things into your ear. "Do you like watching me get off to us? This is what you do to me"

Beelzebub will even have his clone sniff into your soiled underwear trying to chase his own orgasm. And he could feel and smell everything his clone was doing. He could even feel the arousal from his clone from you watching him.

He will come in straight-faced sit across from you and then say, "I didn't say you could stop."He urges you to continue where you left off. He watches you intently And you feel and nervous rush. "Be not afraid child of Adam do what you are doing before." If it makes you feel less nervous he takes off his own pants his own erection springing into the air.

He watches you intently as you continue taking note on how your fingers and hand play with yourself. As much as it is hot to see you defile yourself it's a great opportunity to learn how to pleasure you. He will take note on every small reaction, every time you clench or buck your hips up.

When the throbbing becomes too much to bear He touches himself now the both of you are masturbating watching each other. He tries to urge you to tell him what you're thinking about earlier when you moaned his name.

When Lucifer feels close he'll come closer, still stroking himself until he's practically over you, one hand still vigorously stroking. He hopes you watch, watch how he pleasures himself, how his hand squeezes and runs over the tip of his cock. Until his cum coats your hand and your bottom half. And that's when he'll touch you smearing his seed all over where you were touching.

[ninuwrites]

Moth to a flame LN4

summary: charles makes you realise that lando is not treating you right

warnings: angst and fluff

a/n: FINALLY i finished this and i hate it tbh. but idc really i am just happy i wrote it. SORRY FOR THE GRAMMAR MISTAKES feel free to correct me🙏🙏so enjoy and i love you all, sending kisses💋💋

———————————————————————————

1:30 AM

L Norris

«Can i call you?»

you looked at Charles that was cuddling to your side. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. you didn’t even have time to reply, your phone already vibrating.

you carefully left your bed and went to the bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror, the feeling of guilt spreading through your body.

Lando was like a virus that you couldn’t get out your body. it was never anything serious between you two. you were just very good friends that decided to start hooking up.

you always had some attraction to Lando, who would not. he was handsome and charismatic young man. the problem was that you started to develop feelings for him during your “relationship”. and that was it for you.

first of all you knew that he definitely didn’t want anything serious, at least nothing serious with you and second of all you knew that you weren’t the only girl he hooked up with and after you caught feelings it was something you could not stand.

so you distanced yourself a bit but lando knew what was happening and somehow you were spending more and more time with him.

you felt special, who wouldn’t, he took you everywhere and he was treating you like a princess . you went to see his races, he took you on holidays with him and you even got to know his parents.

but apparently…

you weren’t the only one.

one evening you had planned a date because you haven’t seen each other in a while but lando wasn’t picking up his phone and didn’t reply on your massages.

it started to make sense when your friend sent you paparazzi pick of lando and some girl holding hands and having dinner in restaurant YOU should have been in with HIM.

that was the first strike.

you needed time off, you didn’t want to see him, hear from him or meet him. you were hurt and offended. did he really forget about your date and just took some other girl with him?

after three days he started to call and text you but you just ghosted him until he showed up at your door.

he showed up with the most beautiful bouquet and beautiful necklaces.

and that’s how it always was.

he did something, you ignored him, he came to apologise and you fucked.

it was exhausting, you really tried to change your relationship but it never worked out.

and than you met charles.

you got to know him on a party of landos first win. you shared room with lando and all evening he talked about how he’s so lucky to have you and that he can’t wait to celebrate with you.

but somehow when you were in the club he disappeared from your sight and you couldn’t find him anywhere. you gave up and went to sit on some couches with a drink in your hand.

“ do you mind if i keep you some company?” you looked up and saw clearly tired charles.

“i would actually love some company right now.” you smiled

you talked for hours. he listened to you, you listened to him. you always had something to talk about.

you started to feel tired so charles decided to accompany you to your room.

as you came upstairs you took the room card from your purse. as you came closer to your room you already felt off so you hoped that lando was there and okay.

well he was more than okay.

you stood in front of the room door and clearly heard a woman moaning landos name from your room. you just stayed still and tried not to cry.

charles took your hand and led you to his room. as he closed the door you hugged him and started crying like a child.

you explained your relationship with lando to charles and he listened carefully to everything you had to say.

he didn’t understand why would someone play with you like that. he wanted to help you, he wanted to show you that it doesn’t have to be like that with everyone.

you slept at charleses room that night.

in the morning he ordered breakfast straight to your room and you ate at on a balcony with beautiful view and sunny weather.

after you finished you knew that you should go and pick up your bags from yours and landos room but you really didn’t have the mood to deal with him. you thought about every possible way of how to not go to go there but none of them seemed to work.

“what are you thinking about?” charleses soft voice snapped you back from your thoughts.

“nothing important, i just need to get my stuff and i really don’t want to see him.” you sighed and closed your eyes.

“i’ll go for them.” charles said and immediately stood up.

“no no no you don’t have to, i will get them in a minute.” you didn’t want to bother him with such a stupid thing.

“i want to do it for you. i’ll be right back.” he said and before you could answer he was gone.

i want to do it for you. this sentence meant everything to you. you’ve never met a man who would really took an action and not just say sweet words.

he came back minutes later with your bags and you went straight up to him. you hugged him tight and said “thank you charles.” you looked up “for taking care of me.”

“that is what you deserve chérie.”

and that’s how your soon to call relationship started.

you started going out on dates and few trips and to be honest you never felt better in your life.

charles was sweet, caring and his love for you is true. but he doesn’t know that you still call lando from time to time.

charles understands that you still need somee time to get over him and he doesn’t want to rush things.

after that night in miami lando tried to reach out many many times but you’ve never replied. you were really hurt and he was annoying you with every call and text more and more.

until he showed up at your doorstep and you felt like you’re reliving the same moment every month.

“can we talk, please?” he asked giving you flowers. you nod at him to come inside and while he’s sitting on a couch you put the bouquet in a vase with water.

“so… you and charles…” he started but you immediately cut him off.

“lando if you came here just to talk shit you can leave.” you were pissed off. the audacity this man had. unbelievable.

“sorry… i mean, i missed you and i just can’t go on without being either you.” he said while look into your eyes.

you hated the soft spot you developed for him. you didn’t even listened to what he was saying because every time it was the same, but he looked so handsome in his white button up shirt, two buttons unbuttoned, his tan skin peeking through and his messy hair.

“can i kiss you?” he asked and you went straight in. you didn’t want to admit but you missed his soft lips and curls. you straddled his hips and kissed his neck slowly.

“i hate you norris.”

“i know.”

after that you gave him some rules on how your relationship will be working.

first of all texts and calls only at night. second of all no day to day communication and third just sex. nothing more, nothing less.

you knew that this wasn’t right, that you needed to get rid off him and keep no contact but somehow you just couldn’t let go of your past.

soon enough your love for charles seemed to grow more every day. he treated you like a princess and he gave you reasons to fall in love with him more and more.

but as your lando situation was never solved you could not devote your heart to charles for 100%.

you haven’t seen lando in two months just photos of him and his new girl on the socials.

until the call.

“hello? babe are you there?” he asked as if you were full on his girlfriend.

“i’m here. how are you? ” you whispered.

“fine, portugal is beautiful, i’ll take you here some time.” he said confidently.

you laughed. “when are you coming back?” you asked.

“next week. what miss me that much?” you could hear him smirking.

“yeah right, i just need to talk to you about something.” you said while closing your eyes.

“oh, okay, can’t wait. i need to go love see you next week. love ya.” he replied and hung up.

“everything okay ma belle?” you heard charles outside the bathroom and the guilt just grew bigger.

“yes baby everything alright.” you said, turned off the light and opened the door. he hugged you and kissed you on top of your head.

“can sleep without you.” he murmured and you giggled and hugged him tighter.

“let’s go back to sleep.”

the thing you wanted to talk about with lando was breaking everything up. it was draining you, the relationship you kept just for nothing. you felt guilty because of charles and you could not keep it up anymore.

you truly loved charles and you to stop loving lando you needed to let him go.

you were in his apartment laying on the couch. “so what did you want to talk about?” he asked definitely bot expecting what you were going to say.

“listen, i really like you lan, i really do but i can’t do this anymore. i want a relationship, i want someone i can rely on any time, any day and i do not want just simple hook ups. i loved you enough and i’m not willing to spend any more of my love on someone who does not feel the same way i do.” your eyes started to water. “it was very hard for me to come up with this topic because i still have some feelings for you but in past months i’ve realised that there are people out there who can treat me better.” you finished with tears streaming down your cheeks.

lando just looked at you, too stunned to speak. he was in shock.

“so… you want to break up?” he asked.

“we were never together lando, i never had you.” you whispered.

“you have me now.” he whispered back, his eyes watering too.

“it’s too late lan, i waited too long and i went through too much pain because of you.” you smiled through the tears.

“no i it’s not i want you, just you. it was always you.” he said, and cupped your cheeks. you were slipping out of his grasp and he could do nothing to save you.

“lan stop with this nonsense, just last week you were with some new model, or we never discussed your night in miami.” you laughed at him.

“please, don’t end this.” he hugged you and cried on your shoulder.

you stayed like that for maybe minutes maybe hours. “i need to go lan.” you moved away and caressed his cheek.

“i know, i’m sorry… for everything.” he said and walked you to the door.

you stayed by the door for a few minutes just looking at each other. until you kissed him one last time.

“i’ll always have a soft spot for you norris.” you smiled.

“i’ll always be one call away baby.” he sniffled and smiled back and you closed the door behind you.

[wosoimagines]

Peaches

part 7 of rivals

Jo leads an interview while at the 2016 Olympics Qualifiers.

2,911 words

previous part| |next part

“Hi, everyone,” Kelley said to the camera. “I’m Kelley O’Hara, defender for the United States Women’s National Team and Sky Blue FC.” 

“I’m Emily Sonnett,” Sonny introduced herself to the camera, “A newer defender for the United States Women’s National Team and more recently the Portland Thorns.” 

“And I’m Jo Knox, forward for the United States Women’s National Team and since I'm still in high school, I’m not telling you guys where I play,” I said with a grin toward the camera. “And this is an episode of Get To Know Your Georgia Peaches.” 

“No one calls us that.” 

“No one outside of the University of Virginia knows who you are, Sonny,” I said, causing the girl to gasp. “Which is why we are here today. To get to know both you and Kelley.” 

“Why are you here?” 

I sighed at Sonny’s question. I had been dragged to do this media with the two because I was one of the only ones who was from the South. But at this rate we would never get to actually start the questions. 

“I’m meant to be your Southern translator,” I said. Sonny opened her mouth to question that. “It’s because I’m from Texas. Houston to be exact.” 

It didn’t surprise me that Sonny didn’t remember where I was from. We must’ve had the same conversation at least three times while on the U-20 team. 

“Oh.” 

I nodded before turning to the camera to explain just what we would be doing today. 

“I have another question.” 

I groaned as my head dropped. I glanced back at Kelley who was trying to hold in her laughter at my obvious annoyance. 

“We’re never going to finish this, are we?” 

Kelley shook her head. 

“Is your name short for anything cause Jo is usually short for Jolene? Or Josephine?” 

“Sonny, we’ve known each other from the youth teams, and you’ve been in senior camps since last year. You just now thought to ask me if Jo is short for anything?” 

“Yeah,” the blonde defender nodded, “So is it?” 

“Yes, it’s short for Jolene.” 

I tried to turn back to the camera. 

“You know what would be cool?” 

“I don’t know why I try,” I muttered, knowing that the mic would pick it up. 

“If you were named after this older song,” Sonny started. I sighed because Sonny really had no idea. “It’s called ‘Jolene’ and it’s by Dolly Parton. I dunno if you know it or not, but it would be cool if you were named after it. Do you know it?” 

“No,” I deadpanned just so we could move past the topic. 

Kelley snickered behind me. She was quite aware that I did in fact know the song since it had been a topic of discussion during the World Cup. 

Sonny, however, pulled out her phone causing me to groan. I just wanted to get through this interview so I could go to the pool. 

“You gotta listen to it.” 

I didn’t even give Sonny the chance to see me listen to it because I immediately started singing along with the song before I reached over to hit pause on her phone. 

“You lied!” 

“I’m from Texas! Of course I’ve heard the song! It’s one of the most representative country songs ever,” I defended. It was kind of offensive that Sonny thought I wouldn’t have known the song. “Dolly Parton is a legend!” 

“You lied?” 

I sighed at how upset Sonny sounded this time. 

“Sonny, I want to go to the pool. I can only do that if we finish this interview because Becky is gonna make me do my homework at 3 and it’s already 1.” 

“So, you lied to me?” 

“And I would do it again.” 

The three of us stood in silence for a moment and I turned back to the camera hoping that we could finally get this interview started. 

“What about this?” 

“You have to give me something harder than ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads.’” 

The song changed and I groaned. 

“Apparently this is just going to be me showing off that I do in fact know country songs. It’s ‘Rhinestone Cowboy.’” 

The little game that Sonny had going on continued until we were headed to the pool. I would only have an hour of free time today to swim before I would be forced out and up to my room to work on homework before dinner. But Sonny followed behind me, still playing different country songs as we reached the pool. 

“What’s going on?” Becky asked as I threw my shirt at Sonny as the song was changed again. 

“The interview just became a stupid game because Sonny found out that I’m named after Dolly Parton’s song.” 

“Did you guys all know that?” 

“Did you not?” Tobin asked Sonny. 

“A whole hour of having to tell Sonny the name of country songs to prove that I know my music. I just want to swim.” 

“Well, you better get in now because you have about fifty-three minutes left,” Becky said. 

I groaned at that before jumping into the pool. Much of my fifty-three minutes spent in the pool was trying to dunk Sonny under the water once she got in the water as well. I had been hoping that I could get away with keeping her underwater, but Becky had quickly gotten onto me for that. 

All too soon, my time in the pool was over. 

“Jo, out.” 

“Come on,” I pouted at Becky who had moved to stand. 

“Jo, now.” 

“Ten more minutes.” 

“Jo.” 

“Please.” 

“No.” 

I huffed at that. 

“It’s just ten more minutes.” 

“No, it isn’t. Then you’ll beg for ten more, and after that another ten. So, get out.” 

I huffed again but pulled myself out of the pool. 

“Can’t believe Sonny can get away with taking away an hour of my pool time,” I grumbled as Becky dropped the towel on my shoulders. 

I didn’t miss the way that Sonny was laughing in the pool at my expense. 

“You too, Sonnett.” 

I grinned at that as it was Sonny’s turn to complain. 

“Jo’s got a point. You delayed her getting to the pool, so you can suffer too.” 

Sonny’s eyes met my own as I smirked at her misfortune. Sonny grumbled even as she also got out of the pool. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“What are you doing?” 

I glanced up at Alyssa as she and Becky sat on my sides. I turned my attention back to the video that was playing on my laptop. 

“Film.” 

“Obviously, but of who?” 

I sighed but paused the game. 

“Who will likely be our first match up at State.” 

“Doesn’t State start in April?” Alyssa finally spoke up. 

“It doesn’t hurt to get a start on forming a game plan.” 

I didn’t miss the look that Alyssa and Becky shared between each other. I knew that they both still shared concerns that I was going to run myself ragged with how much time I spent training for the national team and my school team, but I knew that if play suffered on either team, then there was a good chance that I wouldn’t be getting call-ups anymore. 

“Jo, it’s February. Like, the beginning of February,” Becky pointed out. I softly sighed as I paused the video I had been trying to focus on. “You’ve got plenty of time and there’s a good chance that you won’t even have your first matchup against this team.” 

“They have a history of upsetting teams.” 

“You have time.” 

“You don’t get it.” 

“Jo—” 

“No, you don’t get it. She embarrassed me.” 

“It’s okay if another player embarrasses you on the field.” 

“Jennifer didn’t embarrass me on the field,” I said as I shook my head. I had to get them to understand. It wasn’t about proving I was the better player. I already knew that I was. “We went out on a few dates. I thought that it meant something. Then to go to a party that my teammates dragged me to just to find her getting real cozy with someone else.” 

The two older players stayed quiet at the revelation. I hadn’t even told the team that I was into girls, much less that I had been seeing someone. 

“She thinks she’s some big shot cause she’s got a scholarship to A&M,” I said. I knew that Jennifer was good. “It isn’t like it’s Houston or Texas. Who would wanna be an Aggie?” 

Becky rested a hand on my shoulder as Alyssa took my laptop and closed it. 

“How about we take a break. You can focus on how you’re gonna get your revenge later,” Becky said. My shoulders slouched forward as I could tell from the stern tone that there was no room for debate. “You just focus on being a kid right now, Jo. That’s all you need to worry about.” 

“I think the rest of the kids were looking for you anyways,” Alyssa added on. 

I didn’t fight them as I was softly pushed away from the seat that I had been in. Maybe spending time with the others that were closer to my age would be good for me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I groaned as I hit the ground again. We hadn’t even made it to halftime yet and I couldn’t keep up with the number of times I had already hit the ground. I wasn’t too surprised by the whistle being blown as I rolled over onto my back. I took a second to collect my breath as I sat up. I waved the ref off as I knew that I just had the wind knocked out of me. But it didn’t stop Tobin from stepping up to argue with the ref that it should be a card against Canada for the sheer number of fouls against me already. 

I sighed as Becky knelt down in front of me. My eyes met hers before she was pulling some of the grass out of my hair. I scrunched my nose at the sight. 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

I nodded. I could still play. I might be sore tomorrow, but I could still play. I didn’t want to make it easy on Canada and it was obvious that they were pretty worried about what I could do if the ball landed at my feet. 

“You don’t need to be checked out?” 

“I’m fine, Becky. I promise,” I assured her. Becky sighed as she checked over me once more. “I promise I’ll tell you if anything changes.” 

Becky slowly nodded before she helped pull me up. She patted the back of my head as we lined up for the free kick. I pushed back against the defender behind me. I wasn’t even entirely sure who it was anymore that was being put on me considering I had pretty much been drawing the ire of all of Canada’s defenders tonight. 

I was the first one to move as the ball crossed into the box toward me. I hadn’t been too surprised by the shove to my back as I had gotten the shot off. But what had surprised me was the sudden, sharp pain that was radiating through my right knee as I tried to catch myself on the leg that I hadn’t shot the ball with. 

I went tumbling down once more. 

All I could hear was the blood rushing to my ears. Not my teammates cheering. Not the crowd erupting into cheers either.  

There was still another half to play. I had to get up. 

I had to. 

But I couldn’t do anything but cry out in pain as I clutched at my knee. I curled in on myself as I tried to reign in my emotions. If I could play it down, then I wouldn’t have to go off. 

I had to finish this game. I had been chosen to get the job done against Canada. More importantly I had been chosen to get the job done on Becky’s 100th cap. I had to make sure that we won. 

But I wasn’t given the chance. 

“Stay still.” 

I closed my eyes tighter as I tried to push the pain away. 

“Jo, I’m serious. Stay still until the medics get here.” 

I shook my head as I forced myself to my feet. 

“I gotta win,” I said as I looked at Becky who had scrambled to her feet and kept me steady. “We gotta get the win. For you.” 

“Jo, stop.” 

Becky held me in place so that I couldn’t move as the medics were rushing to us. I tried to keep as much weight as I could off my right leg as they asked me about what had happened when I went down.  

When I asked if I could keep playing, they assured me that they would check me out on the sidelines first before they made their call. I nodded before I went to walk off the field with them. I only made it a couple of steps before my knee couldn’t hold the weight anymore. 

I didn’t completely crumble to the ground though. 

A pair of strong hands had caught me before I could collapse. I didn’t fight it as I was lifted up into the air by the woman. 

“Why are you helping me?” 

“Come on, Pip. We’re still teammates.” 

“Hope, you hate me.” 

The goalie rolled her eyes at that. 

“I don’t hate you, Pipsqueak. You’re just annoying. There’s a difference.” 

Hope had never done anything nice for me before. But I wasn’t complaining as she made it to the sideline with me still in her arms. I was given over to Alyssa who immediately headed back to the locker room with me. I wasn’t surprised with the detour she took to head to the physio’s room. Nor was I surprised by Ali following behind. 

With the two of them coming with me, I knew I was done for the night. 

Both of the older women stayed with me as the medics poked and prodded at my knee before they decided to have me loaded onto a stretcher and heading to the hospital. I wasn’t even surprised that the two joined me for the ambulance ride. 

I did, however, huff and throw a slight fit when the nurses told Ali that she would have to go to the waiting room since she wasn’t family until they moved me from the ER to a room. I mostly just tuned out the nurses and doctor that came into to talk to me before they were wheeling me off to get an MRI. 

I knew that it wasn’t that bad. There really was no need for all of this for my knee. It would be fine. I’d go home and rest it and ice it for a week or two and then I’d be as good as new. I really didn’t get the big deal. 

But I had plenty of time to reflect on what my recovery would look like considering the MRI was going to take forty-five minutes. 

The longest forty-five minutes of my life. 

I furrowed my brow in confusion as I was wheeled into a room. Alyssa was on the phone as Ali was pacing back and forth. 

“They just brought her back. She’s in room 420.” 

I let out a little giggle at the room number but quickly quieted it when Alyssa turned to glare at me. I shrunk back into the bed 

“We’ll be here. They told us we could expect the results from her MRI tonight.” 

I perked up at that. At least I would be able to prove to everyone that I was fine. Ali sat down next to the bed once the nurse left as Alyssa finished up her call. I wasn’t entirely sure if she had been talking with Dawn or someone else. 

“How’d the game go?” 

I couldn’t help but ask the question after there had been many minutes of silence once Alyssa ended the call. 

Alyssa scoffed as she shook her head while Ali actually started to laugh at the question. I glanced between the two before I completely moved my gaze to Alyssa. 

“I can’t believe you’re asking about the game when you’ve torn your ACL.” 

I furrowed my brow at what Ali had just said. No one had even mentioned an ACL injury to me. 

“It isn’t my ACL,” I shook my head. It couldn’t be. “You’ll see. I’ll win State right at the beginning of May and then we’ll be on our way to Rio for the Olympics. This is just a sprain.” 

“Jo, you told them you heard and felt a pop,” Alyssa softly said as she took a seat at the end of the bed. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you need to prepare yourself. This has ACL injury all over it.” 

I shook my head at that. It couldn’t be. It was fine. It would be fine. They’d see. All I would need was a little ice and rest and I’d be good to go. 

I wasn’t left to my thoughts for long as Becky made her way into the room. I perked up at the sight of her. 

“Did we win?” 

Becky’s eyes narrowed in on me. 

“Has the doctor came in with the results yet?” 

None of us got to answer her as the doctor came into the room right behind Becky. 

“I have the MRI results.” 

[smedenn]

I like to theorize/headcanon that Stolas’ “do you know what I want?” Monologue will eventually be mirrored by Blitz. Like when he confesses or when their relationship is real and healthier.

So… I wrote a lil thing for it. Do with this what you will

The actual monologue by Stolas:

“Do you want to know what I want? I want to know what it’s like to not be alone. I want to be someone’s someone. I want to feel wanted, but like In a romantic way. Like I’m standing out in the rain at a train station and someone is shouting ‘Harriet!don’t get on that train! It’s going to London and I cannot be without you!’ The point is I just want someone to care if I stay or go. I want someone to want me. To want to see me, to hold me, to look at me and think: ‘you’re the only one I want. I desire to hold you and talk to you, never let you feel so…’ You! Why are you here? I don’t want you here, go home please! Let me not feel so sad”

My Headcanon mirror monologue:

“Look stolas, it took a while but I… I figured out what I want. you told me what you want- to not be alone. And… god dammit I think I want that too. I think I want you to be my ‘someone’ or whatever, and in some pansy-ass romantic way not just… for fucking. Like, shit- okay, like if you were at some dumb train station, and it was raining or whatever, and you were running off to some fucking placed called ‘Log-bog’-“

“London, my dear”

“Whatever- I’d… fuck Stolas. I’d tell you to stay. Maybe not at first. First I’d probably yell at you because I’m a mess and I don’t know how to handle my own emotions. And then I’d call you shitty names, really shitty ones that I don’t actually mean, all because I know you deserve better than me. So It wouldn’t be like your shitty rom-coms. But fuck it- the ending would be the same? I’d tell you not to go. Because fuck- I don’t really want to be without you”

“Blitz I-”

“No- don’t Interrupt- if you interrupt then I’ll start thinking about what all this means and I’ll change my mind and jump out your window or kill myself or something-“

“Go on”

“Fuck it- Stolas… you’re the only one I want. Okay? You make me want to do some gay shit like hold you- and I actually fucking like talking to you. So I want that- I want to talk to you. I never want to let you feel like that again. I was a coward at that stupid fucking party. I should have said it back then, but I hated myself for making you feel so sad. But fuck it- that’s why I’m here now. If you want me to be. I want you, Stolas”

[barbies1shots]

part3 of toxic!sukuna , prt1 , prt2

this one is kinda freaky..

not proof read

@hazzelle-kento for the idea !! thank you😉 this might turn into a series ..

☆- predator/pray dynamics , size kink , overstim (cant help myself) , stalking , fem!waitress!reader, batshit crazy!sukuna, slight misogyny , degradation, non-con>dub-con , possessive themes , body shaming , hair pulling , name calling , unprotected secs (wrap your willy pls)

thinking about toxic!sukuna and his inability to keep you off his mind. the way you cuss him out because he didn't put up dishes like you asked. or the way you stare him down when he doesn't take his shoes off before entering the house.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who denies that you actually want to break up with him. who said you couldnt break up with him.

why would you break up with him when he didn't do anything?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is just so unaware of the toxic things he did. restricting what you wear and who you go out with. lashing out at you when he asked a simple question. brushing you off when he came back late and smelled like alcohol.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who told you a top looks horrible on you. that it wasn't your color, and it was too tight, making you look fat. all because he wanted you to change.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who heard your sniffles from the other room but wanted to hear more of them. just because he's mean

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is in denial and in complete confusion when you put a restraining order on him

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who claims he never put any hands on you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who quite literally has internal conflicts on what to do. leave you alone, let you have your space youve been complaining about or come pounding on your door and fuck you to sleep.

thinking about toxic!sukuna who wouldn't respect any boundaries you've made and would invade your personal space.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who would contact you even when you blocked him on everything. instagram, SMS, twitter, tiktok, snapchat, facebook, google chat, EMAIL, yet the man still finds a way to messsge you.

' you still mad ? '

thinking about toxic!sukuna who doesn't care about your feelings at all. about how he only wants you for your mind- or for your body.

thinking about toxic!sukuna would try and corner you on your way back from a third shift at your work.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who literally dreams about chasing you and making you love him again.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who tries to explain that he's right wrong and that he only wants you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who wants to be in every part of your mind. he wants to corrupt you, break you in, and make you maleable. just for him and his dirty pleasures.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who chased you down the alleyway with you screaming at him to leave you alone.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who succeeds in his dreams of chasing you.

why would you ever want to run from him?

☆

"get the hell away from me, you damn psychopath! youre fucking crazy! you stalk me, message me, call me- i dont want anything to do with you, Ryomen!" the sounds of your shrill voice bounce off the dry walls on either side of you.

he followed you from your work to the little 'short-cut' home, and now he got you cornered in a deadend. you had black wedges and a skirt on- courtesy of your uniform regulations.

of course, he knew where you worked, why wouldnt he?

"come back baby, you know better." he snickered. his taller form was hiding by the darkness of the alleyway as it was well past 11PM.

you shuffled through your purse in search of something to defend yourself. pepper spray, a pocket knife, maybe keys. but came up empty.

why would you need to defend yourself anyway?

it sounded like his footsteps got closer as your movements were more frantic in trying to find something to fight Ryomen off with. you hand came in contact with your phone, and you raised it above your head before looking up and straight into the eyes of the devil himself.

"what are you looking for-" he asked in your face, his breath washed over you. as your nerves spiked, you threw your hand down so your phone came in contact with his forhead. "argh- you stupid cunt!" he grunted out as his face contorted in straight fury and disbelief.

did you... just strike him?

you stomped on his foot with your heel, and you earned another pained groan. you immediately went around him to run off, run into someone to help you, run into the light- something. you ran, your wedges rendering your full ability to move, but you had to make due.

your phone layed cracked at the back of the alleyway but atleast you had your purse? the entrance of the alleyway came closer than before, and you made it about 2 full steps into the light of the streetlight before a rough hand pulled you back by the hair.

"no- no, oh my damn, let go, Ryomen!" you screamed in frustration. his other hand came in, covered your mouth before taking your struggling body and pushing you against the wall.

why would he let you go when he just got you back?

he held you there, his face red and burning by the way you swung at him without hesitation. his eyes didnt lie, and they were filled with hatred but longing.

"youre mine, im not letting you go." he growled into your face after his let his stinging grip away from your hair. his hand ran down his face and he sighed loudly, "you are just as predictable as any other woman." he looked bored.

"you hit me, step on my foot, and then try to run?" he asked. your eyes stung when he pressed your head harder into the concrete wall.

"sounds like you need to lean your place again, yeah?" he concluded.

his hand moved from covering your mouth to grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to look at him. "been out of check for a while. ignoring me, blocking me, avoiding me, wanting to take a break from me? i think you have lost your mind, baby" he said as his fingers forced their way more into your skin.

"leave me alone-!" you tried to say before he pushed you roughly on the ground, you hit your tail bone, and he came in between your distraught legs and leaning over you. his rough hands came in contact with your body, tugging and pulling on your clothes. he ripped your blouse, and the bottons popped everywhere. he flipped uo your skirt so the waist band was up your tummy.

why would he leave you alone when you just look edible.

"ryomen- i asked you for a break for a reason!" you screamed at him as you tried to cover your body. you tried to grasp the last bits of your dignity, but as soon as he cupped your cunt through your underwear, it was left for good.

why would you ever want a break from him..?

the chase from the back of the alleyway and the adrenaline from him holding you against the wall made you wet. it turned you on that he was willing to chase and catch you.

he smirked as he slid your underwear to the left and slid a thick finger in between your soaked fold before finding your clit and pressing harshly into the little nub.

"uhh-" you groaned at the feeling, he went hard and rough, not caring if it didnt hurt or not. you squirmed as your hips jerked and tried to scoot away from the stimulation.

he put his other hand on your hip, pulling you close as his fingers dipped lower and probbed at your entrance. "youre about to be in for a ride, you little bitch." he growled and forced his two dry fingers into your cunt, immediately finding your g-spot and abusing it.

your back arched as your thighs came up to your chest and closed around his arm, "Ryomen- please! I cant do this.." you whined out as your hips grinded against his fingers.

he smirked over you as you whined and arched your back, "cmon' cunt- cum for me" he demanded. he pressed a thumb into your clit, rubbing it as he fucking your cunt wet.

as you were recovering from one of your intense orgasams, he looked over you. his eyes drifted from your blissed out face to your shivering torso to your trembling thighs and hips. he licked your liquids from his fingers and slotted himself between your thighs.

why would you ever leave him when he is just perfect for you?

"time for the main event, yeah baby?" he snickered and started unbuckling his pants, unzipping them and pulling his underwear under his ballsack. he grabbed your calf and held it up by his head as he leaned in and stuffed his face into your sweaty neck.

his large mushroom tip nudged your entrance, and you tensed up as he started to push in. he was reforming your insides just to match around him, "cmon, whore... take it all.." ryomen groaned into your neck. he resisted the urge to bite into you as he listened to your sobs.

he raised back on his haunches when he bottomed out and quickly set a rough pace. your pleas and little whines only egging him further the more your worked up.

he let go of your leg to rest on his shoulder and started to grope your tits, kneeding them in one hand while tweaking one in another.

"youre being rough, ryomen! ugh- be gentle.." you whimpered. he shook his hand as he smirked and started to actually plunge into you. thrusting his hips and pulling you back by your tits as leverage.

plap! plap! plap! was the wet sounds of his balls hitting your ass.

he only sped up as he got lost in the pleasure, chasing his and fucking you complete stupid. your neck stretched as you felt another orgasm take over you and your mind felt blank. only thinking about ryomen, ryomen, dick, dick, ryomen.

he saw your face and shook his head and took one hand from your tits to the front of your head and forced your head to look at where hes fucking you open at. your back in an awkward yet painful position as you started to groan.

"you can't escape me, your morsel. you belong to me! i will kill you before you ever get any other thoughts of trying to leave me again. I control you. You are mine."

left unfinished cs ive gotten lazy and unmotivated. let me know what you think !!

toxic!sukuna part 1

toxic!sukuna part 2

revenge on toxic!sukuna

-Aizawas BARB !

[morallyinept]

Keep Me Warm - An Ezra x Number Two One Shot MxM

This was inspired by this gorgeous lil' sketch of Ezra & Number Two, by the lovely @yomi345345345 - please check out their art, it's simply wonderful! 🖤

Summary: Stranded on the Green moon together, after Ezra's ship has been taken from him, Ezra and Number Two share body heat to stay warm during the cold night. Or, the prequel to Prospect nobody asked for...

Pairing: Ezra x Number Two (MxM)

Word Count: 8.8k - Apparently I can no longer write a short Ezra fic anymore... 😶

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Frottage/jerking off/a smidge of oral/Ezra taking liberties - all consensual, even though Number Two doesn't speak/some fluff thrown in because Ezra is just a lovable scamp. 🥰 This is male-on-male shenanigans, if that bothers you, we can't be fwends. We bask in the rainbow here. 🌈 I've used some actual Prospect script dialogue towards the end.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: My first MxM fic? 🤔 Yes, it's my first. And I loved writing it so much! I hope you like it too. I just love writing for Ezra so much, I always feel my own langauge change and adapt when I write him. Happy Pride month, lovelies! 🌈

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

"You know," Ezra mused, his voice filled with deliberation, "I reckon it's high time I assigned you a moniker."

The silent being turned his helmeted head slightly, acknowledging Ezra's words with a subtle tilt that spoke volumes in its own right.

"Yeah," Ezra continued, a flicker of staunchness lighting up his weary face. "From now on, I'm calling you... Number Two."

There was a pause, the quiet intensity of their surroundings amplifying Ezra's declaration. He felt a surge of certainty in the simplicity of the name - a name that acknowledged Number Two's steadfast presence, his unyielding loyalty amidst the trials of their solitary pilgrimage.

"Number Two," Ezra repeated, testing the name on his tongue.

It resonated with a sense of purpose, a symbolic gesture that transcended their shared isolation. Ezra derived solace from the act of christening - a gesture that imbued their odd companionship with meaning within the austere beauty of their surroundings.

The Bakhroma moon was a stark and unforgiving landscape, despite its verdant lushness. A lonely splendour heightened by the unusual flora scattered across it.

Ezra and Number Two trudged through the otherworldly wilderness, their helmets and breathing apparatuses clamped securely in place, a necessary barrier between their fragile, human lungs and the moon’s inhospitable atmosphere.

Ezra’s voice crackled over the comms, filling the silence with a ceaseless stream of chatter.

“You know, if we can just find a few more of those mineral deposits, we might be able to salvage this trip after all. It’s been a rough go, what with the Screamer, but there’s gotta be something out here worth the trouble, right?”

Number Two walked beside him, silent as ever. His dark helmeted head turned occasionally to survey the landscape, his posture alert but stiffly composed.

He offered no response to Ezra’s monologues, his silence a constant heavy companion.

Ezra’s steps grew more animated, his words flowing faster as the quietude gnawed at him.

“And did you see those plants back there? Pshoo! The ones spewing out all sorts of shit? Never seen anything like it. It prompts contemplation on what other substances lie concealed in these environs, hmm? Fascinating.”

Still, Number Two’s silence prevailed. He moved with a fluid grace, his body language minimal yet precise. It was as if he were part of the moon’s scenery, a mere extension of its eerie calm.

Ezra’s frustration began to bubble up, his words spilling out even more rapidly.

“You know, just a modicum of conversation wouldn’t hurt, just to pass the time. After all, we find ourselves rather confined to aimless wandering and pursuit. An anecdote, maybe? Or even a question? Something to break the monotony?”

Number Two carried on, seemingly ignoring him; his face obscured and unreadable behind the dark, reflective visor of his helmet. There was no sign of acknowledgment, no hint of engagement.

His silence was impenetrable, a wall that Ezra found both infuriating and oddly compelling.

“Seriously, man, how do you do it? Just… not talk? I get that you’re the strong, silent type, but this is... well, it's ridiculous, is what it is.” Ezra’s voice had taken on an edge of desperation, a need to fill the void left by Number Two’s reticence.

As they continued their trek, the landscape around them shifted subtly into an oncoming dusk. Strange, glimmery dust notes filled the air, waltzing around them. The air, though unbreathable, was thick with the scent of the alien flora, detectable even through their suits’ filtration systems.

"Ever hear 'bout them channel rats, Number Two? Pesky varmints they are. Crafty, sneaky little devils, they'd gnaw through all sorts of electrical equipment and pipework just to get to what they fancied. Spraying their stink piss all over the joint."

Ezra continued to speak, his words falling on deaf ears as Number Two remained steadfastly silent and focused on their surroundings.

“Yeah, those rat bastards were a real menace. People had to come up with all sorts of traps and tricks to keep ‘em out. Clubbed a few in my time. And don’t tell me that they don’t feel it. Shit, I can still hear the gnarly screams from their rotten little gums.”

Ezra’s frustration began to bubble up, his words spilling out even more rapidly.

“And you know what? Channel rats are smart, too. They’d learn from their mistakes, adapt to the new traps. You had to stay one step ahead of 'em.”

Ezra pressed on, his words now a torrent and rousing no response from his mute companion.

“You know, when we get back, assuming we do get back, I'll require a respite. A locale of warmth and aqueous tranquillity. None of this miserable, barren rock nonsense.”

The figure beside him remained inscrutable. Number Two’s silence seemed almost deliberate, a pointed contrast to Ezra’s verbal deluge. The quiet stretched on, amplifying every sound Ezra made, every crunch of their boots on the dry soil.

Ezra finally fell silent, his words and patience spent.

They walked on in the oppressive quiet, the only sounds the rhythmic hiss of their breathing tubes and the soft rustle of the wind.

It was in this silence that Ezra began to notice things he hadn’t before: the delicate patterns on the plants, the subtle shifts in the moon’s topography, the way the light played off the surface of distant rocks.

Despite his vexation, Ezra also realised that Number Two’s silence was not entirely empty; it was full of an awareness that Ezra’s chatter had masked.

In the moments of silence that Ezra chose to withhold his voice, his mind became a tempestuous sea of thoughts, swirling and churning with an incessant rhythm.

Each lull in conversation became an opportunity for his thoughts to unfold and proliferate, like a relentless cascade of inquiries and analyses.

Amidst the vast solitude of the lunar landscape, Ezra's mind whirred and ticked with a precision akin to the mechanisms of his survival gear. Every decision, every gesture made by Number Two, became fodder for his introspection.

He dissected their interactions with meticulous scrutiny, searching for hidden meanings and untapped potentials.

Ezra often found his clicking thoughts drifting back to the recent betrayal that had marooned them on this unforgiving terrain.

The memory was a jagged shard lodged deep within his consciousness, bleeding out of his cerebral cortex as a bitter reminder of how quickly trust could unravel in the face of desperation.

It had started with whispers of dissent among the crew, subtle murmurs of discontent that Ezra had dismissed as the normal grumblings of a long journey.

But as they neared their destination within the reach of the gas giant of Bakhroma, tensions had simmered to a boiling point, fueled by dwindling resources and mounting frustrations.

Then came the pivotal moment - a confrontation that erupted in bloody violence, bolt pistols flashing in the harsh fade of the ship's corridors.

Ezra remembered the sting of betrayal, the shock of seeing faces he’d trusted turning against him. His ship, a testament to his determination and ingenuity, had become a battleground; a prize coveted by those who saw opportunity in the chaos.

Ezra's heart had palpitated with rapidity as he’d staggered into the dimly illuminated confines of his beloved Testing Screamer, the metallic tang of apprehension lingering on his palate after a blow to the face.

The altercation had swiftly escalated beyond his prognostication, transforming erstwhile comrades into adversaries whose countenances bore a visage of hostility.

"Imbecilic fool," inveighed Mira, her hand clutching a bolt pistol still emitting wisps of smoke from the recent discharge of warning shots. "You fancied your Aurelac and silver-tongued rhetoric could maintain our fealty? Look where such folly has led you, Ezra."

Despite his attempts at composure, Ezra's voice quavered as he scanned the faces of those allies who now confronted him with gazes laden with resentment. Behind their stern visages lurked avarice, drawn by the allure of the precious Aurelac now adorning the control console, seemingly mocking his plight.

"You misconstrue," Ezra implored, his tone trembling despite efforts to exhibit fierceness. "Resolution may yet be attained. The resource is ample for all."

"Ample?" derided Kael, his posture belligerent as he loomed over Ezra. "You presume we share such sentiments? We’re done with your stratagems, Ezra. Dominion of this lunar shit stink belongs to the resolute."

With a disdainful smirk, Mira gestured toward the control console. "Take it all," she commanded, her voice authoritative. "Let us discern what further hoards he keeps from us."

Ezra's heart sank as they rifled through his belongings, casting aside supplies and personal effects with callous disregard. The weight of their perfidy pressed upon him as heavily as the moon’s gravity.

"Oi. You err grievously," Ezra warned, aware his entreaties would fall upon deaf ears.

"And what error might that be?" taunted Kael. "In placing trust in you? We’re cognizant of your exploits, Ezra. Tales abound of your abandonment of others to perdition in this desolation. Now, fate has found you a victim of your own plotting."

They shoved him roughly against the bulkhead, their expressions a blend of scorn and triumph.

"Your denouement nears, Ezra," declared Mira, her words carrying a finality that chilled him to the core. "Alone you shall perish, as befits your deserts."

As the hatch of his Testing Screamer sealed shut behind him, consigning Ezra to his fate upon the unforgiving lunar regolith, they had taken everything - his ship, his supplies, even his precious Aurelac loot.

They had left him stranded on this desolate moon, taunting him with the inevitability of his demise. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered in Ezra's thoughts, a reminder of the frailty of trust.

But through the turmoil, Number Two stood stoically by Ezra's side, a stalwart presence amidst the tumult. His physiognomy remained obscured behind the visor of his helmet, but he was an inscrutable and unyielding guardian nonetheless.

Ezra swallowed hard, wounded in pride, yet undaunted in spirit, as he pushed the memory back into the bile.

"They err," he murmured softly, more to himself than to any present. "But I shall not meet my end alone. Not while you abide with me, Number Two."

Though Number Two offered no verbal response, Ezra discerned a subtle affirmation in the slight incline of his helmeted head. It sufficed.

As Ezra and Number Two traversed the stark, alien landscape of the moon, the days blurred together, marked by the relentless pursuit of survival amidst the desolation that surrounded them.

Yet amidst the hardship, a gradual bond had cemented a strong hold in its weary foundation.

As the turns stretched on the moon, Ezra found himself increasingly vexed by the enigmatic mutisim of his companion.

What had initially been a curious anomaly had morphed into a persistent irritation, chumbling at him like the relentless pollen dust that periodically swept across their encampment.

Ezra's agitation simmered beneath the surface, fueled by the unending quiet punctuated only by the mechanical hum of their equipment and the occasional gusts of wind.

He had grown accustomed to filling the void with his own voice, a habit honed over rotations of solo expeditions and the camaraderie of lively crewmates aboard long-haul ships.

But with Number Two, there was no banter, no exchange of thoughts or stories - just a void that Ezra struggled to reconcile with his inherent need for human interaction.

"It's like conversing with a stone wall," Ezra muttered one evening, his frustration palpable as he tinkered with their malfunctioning comms device. A device, for all intents and purposes, that was useless if it was only one way.

"You could at least grunt or something. Anything would be better than this fuknugt silence!"

Number Two, as ever, remained stoically silent.

His presence, while ostensibly comforting in its constancy, increasingly felt like a barrier to Ezra’s sanity. The more time they spent together, the more Ezra yearned for the simple act of a verbal spar that had once been so commonplace.

Number Two was an enigma, a cipher wrapped in layers of sibylline hush. Ezra found himself perpetually bewildered by his companion’s reticence, a reticence so absolute it bordered on the preternatural.

Number Two never uttered a word - not a syllable, not a whisper. This unbroken silence was as perplexing as it was captivating.

To further compound the mystery, Number Two wore his helmet almost constantly, concealing his visage behind an impenetrable barrier.

Ezra’s glimpses of Number Two’s face were exceedingly rare and fleeting, reserved only for the moments when he removed the helmet to slip into his cot for the night.

These brief interludes offered tantalisingly scant details: a strong jawline, a pair of dark eyes that gleamed with unfathomable depth, and a visage marked by a delphic, yet unnerving calm.

In the beginning, Ezra had attributed Number Two’s quietude to an inherent taciturnity, perhaps a disposition marked by introversion or a cautious demeanour necessitated by the perils of their vocation.

Yet, as time moved forward, it became incontrovertibly evident that Number Two’s muteness was not merely elective, but an intrinsic characteristic of his being.

Despite - or perhaps because of - his silence, Number Two was an indispensable ally.

His movements were imbued with a prodigious grace and precision, suggesting either rigorous training or an innate affinity for the hostile environments they navigated.

Ezra's intrigue with Number Two was tinged with a sense of melancholy. The lack of verbal communication heightened his awareness of subtle signals, pushing Ezra to interpret the silent lexicon of body language.

Gradually, he cultivated an intuitive understanding of Number Two’s needs and responses, fostering a rapport that travelled galaxies beyond the limitations of spoken language.

Yet, the conundrum persisted.

Who was Number Two? From whence had he come? Why did he eschew speech with such unyielding constancy? Why had he stayed with Ezra instead of joining the others in the theft of his ship?

Ezra had posed these inquiries in myriad forms, each time hoping to elicit some fragmentary revelation.

However, Number Two would respond only with a laconic shrug or a tilt of his heavily helmeted head, leaving Ezra ensnared in an ever-deepening labyrinth of curiosity.

As Ezra and Number Two trudged across the lunar surface after a hard day, their weary steps finally led back to the refuge of Ezra's makeshift tent; a remnant of his earlier prospecting endeavours with a now-betrayed team.

The tent stood as a camouflage solitary sentinel against the lunar forest, its taut fabric fluttering.

Together, they ducked beneath the low flap, finding respite from the unrelenting heat of the day. Inside, the air was cool and still, a stark contrast to the swampy environment outside.

The dim light filtering through the tent's translucent panels cast eerie shadows on the plant dust that coated finely over everything.

“We find ourselves fortunate," Ezra commented, his tone laced with a measure of gratitude, as he extracted a handful of Bitz Bars from an assortment of containers arranged under a collapsible table. "A small cache remains. Sufficient, albeit their flavour leaves much to be desired. Like chewing grit."

Number Two inclined his helmeted head slightly, acknowledging Ezra's words with a silent nod. Though his features remained obscured behind the reflective surface, Ezra imagined a glint of understanding in his companion's stance - a shared appreciation for the small comforts that sustained them amidst their trials.

Ezra's gaze shifted to the temperature gauge on the tent's control panel, noting the steady drop in temperature as the night approached.

"It's getting colder out there as the turns go," he observed aloud, more to himself than to Number Two. "We'll need to conserve our resources."

After stripping to their thermals, Number Two moved silently to a corner of the tent, where their sleeping cots lay neatly arranged. He settled onto his cot with practised efficiency.

The nights were bitterly cold on the alien moon. The temperature would plummet leaving Ezra and Number Two shivering in their flimsy tent.

Their makeshift shelter, equipped with an air filter and a meagre stash of tasteless sustenance, did little to stave off the icy chill that crept in through every seam and crevice. The cold descended with such a ferocity that Ezra, accustomed to the stark conditions of space for many rotations, still found unexpectedly biting.

Ezra perched on his cot, teeth chattering despite his efforts to keep warm. The blanket he had was woefully inadequate for the freezing night. Across from him, Number Two lay still, silent as ever, seemingly impervious to the cold.

“Shit, it’s colder than a witch’s tit,” Ezra muttered, rubbing his large hands together.

He glanced over at Number Two, his face still obscured by his helmet’s visor. Peculiarly, he often slept whilst still wearing it.

"Don’t you feel this damn cold?" Ezra grumbled, his voice tinged with frustration and a touch of desperation.

He longed for any sign of shared chagrin, but Number Two offered no response, leaving Ezra to shiver alone.

Ezra sighed heavily, acutely aware of the necessity ahead, though a subtle unease tinged his resolve. He knew he had to do it - he needed to keep warm, and that meant taking action despite any discomfort it may bring.

“Well, friend, desperate times call for desperate measures,” Ezra said, more to himself than to his silent companion.

He traipsed to Number Two’s cot, his breath visible in the frigid air.

Number Two laid unmoved, but his posture guarded and forbidding. Ezra could sense the unspoken warning in the set of Number Two's shoulders, the subtle shift that spoke volumes of his reluctance to share such intimacy.

But Ezra was undeterred. He had faced down adversaries far more formidable than a reticent companion on the Green moon’s surface.

With a calm demeanour that belied the urgency of their situation, he stepped closer, careful not to invade his space, but intent on bridging the divide between them nonetheless.

"Survival demands sacrifice," Ezra continued, his tone retaining its calculated calmness. "We both know this."

Ezra's breath formed misty wisps, each exhale a visible testament to the inhospitable conditions they faced. He didn't fully comprehend why he persisted, why he was compelled to press forward, or where he summoned the fortitude. He'd been solitary for as long as he could recall, and he possessed nothing left to forfeit for a favour.

"We're not allies by choice," Ezra acknowledged, his voice lowering slightly, laden with an air of veiled threat. "But we’re bound by necessity now. Share our warmth or face the consequences."

Without waiting for a response - knowing none would come - Ezra lifted the edge of Number Two’s blanket and simply slid in beside him.

The cot was narrow, forcing them to lie close together, but the proximity brought an immediate, albeit slight, warmth.

Ezra could feel the furnace radiating from Number Two’s body, even through his thermal undergarments, and he hoped his own eventual warmth would provide some relief in return.

“There, that’s a bit better,” he said, settling in and pulling the blankets tightly around them both.

Number Two did not react, his steady breathing the only sign of life. Ezra tried to ignore the oddity of the situation, focusing instead on the practical necessity of not losing any extremities.

The silence stretched on, the only sound the faint hum of the air filter working to keep their atmosphere breathable.

Ezra found himself talking just to fill the void, as he often did.

“We’ve been through a lot, you and I. It’s kinda funny, isn’t it? How things turn out.”

Number Two’s breathing was his only answer, but Ezra took some comfort in the shared warmth, the unspoken camaraderie that had grown between them despite - or perhaps because of - Number Two’s perpetual silence.

The cold had become unbearable, and even the most stoic of men could not resist its relentless assault.

In the dim light of the tent's interior, Ezra watched with keen interest as Number Two, with deliberate and uncharacteristically hesitant movements, soon reached up to unfasten his helmet.

The hiss of decompression broke the tense silence, and slowly, the helmet was lifted away, revealing the man beneath.

Ezra's eyes, usually narrowed with suspicion and calculation, widened in genuine curiosity as he beheld Number Two's features up close for the first time.

The man's visage was a study in contrasts - his skin unmarred by the harsh environment they navigated, with a pallor that bespoke long hours spent beneath protective gear.

High cheekbones and a strong jaw framed a face that, while youthful compared to Ezra's, still bore the marks of experience and resilience.

Number Two was a man of elusive elegance, a contrast so stark to Ezra that it verged on the ludicrously inexplicable. Though only marginally younger - perhaps in his late thirties to Ezra’s mid-forties - Number Two possessed an aura of ageless composure that defied the harshness of their shared environment.

His hair, a subtle marvel to Ezra, retained a softness that seemed impossible amidst their gruelling circumstances. Where Ezra's own hair lay perpetually slicked with the grease of sweat and grime, clinging to his scalp in unkempt tangles, Number Two's locks fell in gentle waves.

There was a delicate lustre to them, as if they'd somehow evaded the clutches of the moon’s pervasive dust and unrelenting sun. It was a detail Ezra found himself ruminating upon, wondering how such softness could be maintained in such an unforgiving place.

Ezra's fascination didn’t halt at Number Two’s hair. His face had an almost serene quality that Ezra found both perplexing and attractive.

But it was Number Two’s scent that truly unwound Ezra as he breathed in at this close proximity; a sensory anomaly in their otherwise fetid and stale world.

Where Ezra himself was perpetually ensconced in the odorous amalgam of sweat, metal, and the acrid bite of his stagnicity, Number Two exuded a fragrance that was subtly intoxicating.

It was not the harsh, synthetic smell of antiseptics or the overpowering scent of days without a charge under the refresher, but rather a delicate, almost ethereal aroma.

There were notes of something faintly floral, perhaps reminiscent of far-off fields untouched by industrial hands, intertwined with a clean, crisp undertone that suggested a natural purity.

This enigmatic cleanliness, an olfactory oasis amidst their shared desolation, only deepened the mystery surrounding Number Two. Ezra could not fathom how, in the midst of their endless toiling and survival, this man could retain such an air of immaculate tranquillity.

"You've been secluding more than just your voice, haven't you?" Ezra muttered, his tone a mixture of bemusement and grudging respect as he looked into the man’s dark eyes, reflecting his own hawkish features back. "A man of many secrets."

Number Two's gaze met Ezra's, and in that silent exchange, there was a recognition of shared burdens and mutual reliance. For all the mystery that surrounded him, there was a depth to Number Two that spoke of untold stories and unspoken alliances.

Ezra, ever the observer, noted the subtle lines around Number Two's eyes, the faint hint of weariness that belied his composed exterior. There was a strength in his silence, an unyielding resolve that mirrored Ezra's own, albeit expressed in a vastly different manner.

"Well," Ezra continued, his voice softening to a near contemplative murmur, "we've both endured our share of hardships, but your resilience seems far more appealing than mine."

The cold may have driven them together, but in the quiet space between breaths, there emerged a fragile understanding - a tacit acknowledgement of the bond that had formed amidst the unforgiving expanse of the lunar landscape.

In a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, Ezra reached out.

His hand, rough and calloused from years of hard labour, moved slowly, hesitantly, as if crossing an invisible boundary he dare not cross, but did so anyway.

He touched Number Two’s face, feeling the smooth skin beneath the ghostly whorl of his fingertips. His thumb traced the line of Number Two’s jaw, moving upward with a kind of reverence until it reached his plush lips.

Ezra’s thumb brushed gently across Number Two's mouth, the touch both tentative and intimate.

The softness of the lips contrasted sharply with the hardness of their reality, and for a moment, the cold, the danger, the betrayal - all of it faded into the background.

"So soft... you're full of surprises," Ezra whispered, his voice almost inaudible, laden with an unexpected lust.

Number Two remained still, his eyes locked onto Ezra’s, the silence between them filled with a thousand unspoken words.

Ezra began to withdraw his hand, the touch too brief, the moment too fragile. Perhaps he had crossed a bound he would not be able to recover from.

But before he could fully retreat, Number Two's hand moved with surprising swiftness, gripping Ezra's wrist with a firm, unyielding hold.

Ezra's eyes widened in surprise as he felt the strength in Number Two's grasp, a silent message conveyed through the pressure of his fingers.

Without breaking eye contact, Number Two brought Ezra's thumb back to his lips. Ezra could only watch, mesmerised, as Number Two parted them and took the thumb into his mouth.

The warmth and wetness of his mouth enveloped Ezra’s digit, a stark contrast to the cold air that surrounded them.

The intimacy of the act was palpable, charged with an electric tension that neither of them had anticipated.

And he saw the soft smile splayed on Number Two’s face, filling him with a comforting warmth. Ezra’s breath hitched, his heartbeat quickening as he felt the gentle suction, the soft caress of Number Two’s tongue against his skin.

It was a moment that spoke volumes, a wordless exchange that conveyed abject need, implicit trust, and a burgeoning desire.

Ezra’s mind raced, caught between the surprise of the act and the undeniable arousal it stirred within him, a heavy ache forming between his legs.

He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to navigate even the most treacherous situations with a calm, determined demeanour. But now, in the confines of their tent, with Number Two’s mouth sucking on his pollex, that control wavered.

"Deeper," Ezra groaned, watching as Number Two sucked his thumb all the way down the hilt.

Number Two’s eyes, dark and intense, never left Ezra’s. There was a challenge in his gaze, a silent question that hung in the air between them.

It was a moment of raw honesty, and Ezra found himself drawn into the depths of it, unable and unwilling to pull away.

The seconds stretched into an eternity, each heartbeat echoing loudly in Ezra’s ears. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, Number Two released his grip, allowing Ezra to reclaim his hand, his thumb slick and shiny in the dim light falling from his mouth.

Ezra’s thumb, now freed, tingled with the cool sensation of Number Two’s saliva. Ezra’s desire was a complex amalgamation of longing and intrigue, a stirring he hadn’t felt in years.

His desire was not just physical; it was entwined with a deep-seated need for connection in the vast, isolating expanse of space. Ezra had always valued his self-reliance, his adeptness at navigating through life's challenges independently.

But now, lying next to Number Two, he felt an undeniable yearning for companionship, for the hot comfort of his touch, for the solace that came from knowing he wasn’t alone.

Chill fingers meandered in an enticing path up and down Ezra’s vertebral column, from the base where his gluteal cleft commenced to the nape of his neck, before exerting a gentle tug on his hair, compelling him to bow and dissolve.

He shivered from the intrusion of frigid air permeating the tent, yet his dermis felt akin to a conflagration. It felt as if his skin were ablaze.

Each point of contact from Number Two sent molten currents through him, incinerating him from within.

However, this was insufficient. He craved more, he needed more.

"Do you trust me enough?" Ezra pressed on, his voice a whisper now, laden with a mix of challenge and invitation.

Ezra’s fingers brushed lightly against Number Two's arm, a gesture both reassuring and insistent.

"Speak to me, if not with words, then with a gesture, a sign. Anything, if you don’t long for this.”

The quiet that followed was charged with anticipation, Ezra’s heart pounding with the weight of his own anticipation. He had laid bare his need for connection, for understanding, and now, in the stillness of their makeshift sanctuary, he awaited Number Two’s response, hoping that his words had pierced the veil of silence that so resolutely shrouded his enigmatic companion.

Number Two’s gaze, deep and inscrutable, met Ezra’s with a lingering intensity. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded, a subtle yet unmistakable affirmation.

The nod was a silent capitulation, a gesture that conveyed understanding, trust, and an unspoken agreement to bridge the chasm.

The moment the nod was completed, Ezra moved with a sudden, almost predatory swiftness.

He closed the remaining, yet minuscule, distance between them, his movements fluid and determined.

His hand, once resting gently on Number Two’s arm, slid upwards to cup the back of his head, fingers entwining in the soft waves of his hair as he rolled himself on top of his steadfast companion.

Ezra’s other hand found its way to Number Two’s waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were crushed together.

The warmth of their shared breath mingled in the scant space between their lips before Ezra closed that distance, capturing Number Two’s mouth in a fervent, possessive kiss.

The kiss was a conflagration of pent-up desires and unspoken words, Ezra’s lips moving with an intensity that mirrored the depth of his longing. He felt Number Two’s initial hesitation melt away, replaced by a tentative yet growing reciprocation.

Their mouths moved in a synchronised desperation, exploring and claiming, each oscillation of tongues a silent affirmation of the unspoken bond they had just forged.

Ezra’s hand slid down from Number Two’s hair to his cheek, the roughness of his fingers a stark contrast to the smoothness of Number Two’s skin.

Number Two’s hands, once passive, now moved with a determined grace, one finding its place on Ezra’s back, the other threading through his oil-slick hair. The touch was both grounding and electrifying, sending shivers down Ezra’s spine.

The melding of their bodies and the silent exchange of trust and desire, created a cocoon of warmth and intimacy amidst the cold expanse of the night.

Humping with fevered intent, rolling his hips against Number Two, desperately chasing that burst of tingly friction when their cocks brushed, collided and rubbbed against one another.

Back and forth, back and forth, building up a dizzying sweat under the stifling itch of the blanket now smothering them.

As they pulled back slightly, breathless and flushed, Ezra’s eyes met Number Two’s once more. His taste was intoxicating. Ezra felt the sinewy strength of Number Two’s body pressed against his own, a juxtaposition of softness and solidity.

And he observed the snicking smile splayed over Number Two’s face, enveloping him in a comforting warmth. His moist tongue darted out to lick a long, languid line up Ezra’s jugular.

And then, oh sweet Kevva... the sound reverberated through his bone marrow, a low growl came from his chest that sounded acutely animalistic.

It took everything Ezra had not to unload his balls there and then at the sound of Number Two's desire.

Their breaths mingled between them, swollen and kiss bruised lips with tongues swabbing the insides of their cheeks - each desperate exhale a warm promise of what was to come.

Ezra's hands roamed with determined purpose, exploring the planes and contours of Number Two's body. His fingers traced the hard lines of muscle, feeling the strength beneath the smooth skin, a stark contrast to his own roughened hands.

Number Two responded in kind, his movements mirroring Ezra's urgency. Their bodies moved against each other in a synchronised dance, a rhythm driven by the primal need for closeness and connection.

The friction of their forms created a heat that banished the cold. Blunt, dirty nails clawed and left marks, skin pinched until it was raw. Gasps were swallowed into the back of throats.

Number Two grappled at Ezra’s behind, pulling until he was breathless with the heavy crush against his chest.

The sensation of their hips grinding together, the pressure of their chests colliding, sent electric shocks of pleasure through Ezra. It was a physical dialogue, a conversation held in the language of touch and movement, each shift and slide conveying a thousand unspoken words.

The cot beneath them creaked with their combined weight, the confined space amplifying the intimacy of their encounter.

Ezra's breath hitched as Number Two’s thigh slipped between his, creating a delicious friction that made his nerves sing.

The grinding became more urgent, their bodies seeking not just warmth but a deeper, more hungry need.

Ezra's mind, usually so sharp and calculating, was lost in the sensory overload, each touch and grind of their cocks together through the fabric of their thermals burning away the layers of control he usually wore so effortlessly.

Number Two’s hands, strong and steady, found their way to Ezra's hips, guiding and pressing, creating a hedonistic rhythm that both followed and led.

The sensation of being both in control and relinquishing control was a heady mix that left Ezra panting wildly.

Ezra's arousal was palpable, an insistent throbbing in his cock that demanded attention. He felt the hardness pressing against Number Two, that was both exhilarating and overwhelming, the intensity of it threatening to consume him entirely.

As he pestled against Number Two, he felt the reciprocation, an equal hardness that spoke of shared desire.

“Can’t get enough, hmm? Greedy…”

His whispers were laced with curses and mutating corruption warming in the conch of Number Two’s ear.

“Are you sure this is pertinent? Can’t be starting something you don’t have the balls to finish, friend."

A simple pull of Ezra against him convinced him that Number Two was determined in his need. Something stirring in the very lucid centre of his core, something hot, all consuming.

Smirking, Ezra found himself contemplating the dynamics of their interaction. Would Number Two yield to his lead, deferring to Ezra's experience and assertiveness?

Or did the silent companion harbour a strength of will that might guide their decisions, regardless of Ezra's outward dominance?

He felt Number Two shift, fingers unravelling the drawstring of Ezra's thermal undergarments and pushing them down, affirming the gravitas of his intent.

A firm grip harboured around his balls left Ezra trembling from the compromising position, the ease with which he surrendered confounding him further.

“Kevva… oh shit, oh shit. Oh shit.”

Number Two curled his hand around Ezra's fat cock, letting his fingers caress the swollen head, a fingernail dipping slightly into the slit, smearing the slick precum down his painfully throbbing length.

Enticing moans spilt from Ezra’s lips, as he rocked into his hand desperately.

Soon, their bodies were free of constricted fabrics, nothing but the blanket huddled over them both. This time they were both slick in Number Two’s hand, both heads of their cocks gliding through his fist.

Ezra looked down at him in wonder as Number Two guided him closer, a moment of pause, reflection perhaps, before he pulled him down, chest to chest as they locked at the lips and Ezra could only yield with a muffled sigh of relief as he fucked Number Two's fist.

His lips traced a path across Ezra’s weathered skin, mapping out the contours with gentle precision. Lingering on the spots that gave him the most pleasure, he tugged at the skin of Ezra’s neck with his teeth making the older man hiss as he felt him out - hard cocks weeped into his palm as he stroked them both.

“You don't need to show shrewd gentleness with me.” Ezra gasped and then smirked as Number Two gripped around him tighter.

“Hold it like you love it,” Ezra remarked watching as his cock slid through Number Two’s affirmative grip singularly now.

“Ah, yeah…” Ezra grunted as his cock was pumped.

Number Two picked up his own cock too, embracing them together again as he jerked them succinctly.

Grunting at how good it felt, his balls clenching with every stroke, Ezra bucked his hips, fucking further into Number Two’s grip. He glanced down to marvel at the swollen, flush pink heads that oozed together.

An unruly, dark thatch of curls at Ezra’s own groin felt springy and damp with sweat as he took over and pumped them both together.

The feel of his own cock squeezed against Number Two’s felt Kevva sent and he struggled to find words to verbally describe it.

Instead opting for a slew of low grunts that punched from the back of his constricted throat. Ezra, with his weathered frame and a hint of paunch, wavered in contrast to Number Two's lean and toned physique as he stretched beneath him.

A pang of inadequacy cut through Ezra's pleasure as he mentally compared himself to his companion. He had always prided himself on resilience and adaptability, yet now he couldn't shake the feeling that he was falling short.

His frame, once wiry and agile, now bared the subtle signs of sagging with age. How he must look to the younger man, sat atop him like this for him to see and scrutinise bleakly.

But the intrusive thoughts were blown away into stardust as he glanced at the thick and pale pink cock pulsing against Ezra’s own ruddy swell.

He watched in rapture as his dick seeped unperturbed on to the head of Number Two’s.

His balls rested on the thick shaft, coiled dark hairs tickled softly on the underside of his dimpled thighs and ass cheeks as he knelt over his silent companion, looking down at him hungrily.

Ezra felt him squeeze around his hips, the subtle overhang of fat moulding around his fingers, and it didn’t deter or disgust Number Two as he looked up at Ezra with a quiet determination as he dug into his flesh keeping him there.

There was so much precome leaking from them both, filling Ezra's palm as it slipped around their lengths.

It left sticky, thread-like strings over Number Two’s stomach, and the urge to taste them compelled Ezra to do just that as he leant forward, legs sliding back down the cot to run his tongue through the drippy mess.

Hands were felt rummaging in his scalp, as Number Two grunted as Ezra’s tongue found its way down Numner Two's thick shaft.

He sucked the leaking head into his mouth, licking over it, and heard how Number Two released a torrent of low grunts in response.

He spat, so lewdly and loud, a thick globule of foamed spit hitting Number Two’s cock and sliding down it. Ezra licked it up, up all the way over the veined ridges, and over the bulb of his head, taking him into his mouth.

The salty tang hit his taste buds making his cheeks tingle in delight.

A hand was felt on the back of his head, telling without words that Number Two wanted more.

Ezra took him as far as he could go without straining, a slight prod at the back of his throat warned him it was far enough, but Ezra had always been a greedy man.

Plump balls rolled around his fingers as he sucked deep, and his hair was tightened in knots as Number Two yanked on the roots.

He wanted to take him right there and then, claim his hole with his cock bare and covered in nothing but their secretions. Wanted to feel the weight of his balls flush against Number Two’s ass as he buried himself deep inside him.

Wanted to unleash carnal ferocity as he felt him clench and twitch around his cock and begged him to never stop filling him.

Those thoughts all gathered at the end of Ezra’s own cock as he pulsed and gulped around his mouthful.

As his cock popped out of Ezra's mouth, soaked with his saliva, Ezra nuzzled into Number Two’s hand. His fingers stroked through the blonde wisp at the forefront of his head with some tenderness that rendered Ezra docile.

Traversing back up towards Number Two’s mouth, his bottom lip became entrapped between Number Two’s teeth.

He wanted to know what it would feel like as he brought the younger man to the precipice. That first moment he’d break through the tightest ring of muscle and watch as Number Two lost his grip on reality.

The slide of their genitals against one another again became all too entrancing, and Ezra felt his completion draw near.

“Are you faring close? I fear my composure may be sullied too soon.” Ezra whispered.

Nothing but another fervent nod came from Number Two between his low pants and gasps.

“Do it. Come for me.” Ezra instructed as he pumped Number Two’s cock with vigorous fervour. "Give it to me."

He was loud when he came, the tension in Number Two’s neck exploded out of his throat into deep, caustic roars as plumes of semen defied gravity.

Ezra came so hard after a few quick tugs on himself, that he drew blood from his own lips, the metallic tang burned on the end of his tongue as he panted.

His eyes rolled so far back into the furthest reaches of the cosmos as he painted Number Two with his thick, warm spend.

The pearly puddles decorated Number Two’s chest, splashed over pink, puckered nipples and coated the wiry, sparse hairs down the muscular plane of his chest.

Ezra's usually racing thoughts slowed to a tranquil pace, captivated by the enigmatic post-coital silence that enveloped them.

A conjoined lump of skin, gazing at Number Two, Ezra began to see beyond the surface - a man of null words, yet a repository of strength and unwavering presence.

For once, Ezra could find no words of his own to satiate the situation.

The silence that often separated them now became a bridge, tethering the gap between their differences and revealing a shared resilience forged in the crucible of their lunar odyssey.

For Ezra, accustomed to navigating the complexities of human interactions through dialogue and negotiation, this newfound appreciation of silence was revelatory.

Ezra found himself drawn into the depths of Number Two's gaze, a place where words were unnecessary and understanding seemed to flow effortlessly. Number Two's eyes, as they stared back at him, held a depth that Ezra couldn't fully decipher yet instinctively trusted.

"Are you adequately warmed?" Ezra enquired, receiving once again a solitary, fleeting nod in response.

He dipped his fingers in the pearlescent sheen and tasted their mix on his tongue, murmuring in fatigued relief.

He contemplated the potential for a deeper connection between them, sensing the unspoken currents that bound them together.

Yet, Ezra recognized the delicate balance they had already trod, realising that he’d already pushed the boundaries of their unspoken understanding as far as he should for this night. Despite his body screaming for a long, intense fuck.

As he began to roll away, he felt the firm grip of Number Two's hand on his shoulder, a touch that conveyed both restraint and something deeper.

He turned slightly to look at Number Two, whose apple-cheeked face revealed nothing but a steady gaze.

"Stay," Number Two whispered, the word barely audible, yet carrying a weight that resonated in the quiet of their tent.

Ezra's breath caught in his throat, his body tensing slightly as he registered the sound of Number Two's voice for the first time.

It was a moment he hadn't anticipated - a breach of the unspoken barrier that had defined their interactions since they first landed on this auspicious moon.

"All right," Ezra replied softly, his voice betraying his astonishment as he settled back into place. "Number Two, I'm all for trust and camaraderie, but don't misinterpret it as anything more than what is simply between our bodies."

Glued together by the warm spend, he spread himself over Number Two’s chest despite his warning.

Number Two didn't waver, but there was a flicker of amusement in the way his eyes traversed over Ezra’s shined face as he made himself comfortable on top of him in the confined space of the cot.

Ezra couldn't help but chuckle softly, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over him.

"Well, Kevva be damned," he said, shaking his head slightly. "You do talk."

In the soft glow of the stark morning, as the first tentative rays of sunlight pierced through the fabric of their tent, Ezra and Number Two stirred from their shared warmth.

The intimacy of the night lingered between them like a fragile, unspoken secret that could shatter at any moment, yet neither dared to breach the frontier that now enveloped them.

"Eyes to the horizon, Number Two," Ezra's voice broke the quiet as he strapped on his gear, his tone casual, but with an underlying tension.

Number Two nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable once more behind the visor of his clunky helmet.

Ezra continued to busy himself, checking the status of their equipment with meticulous care, his movements precise and deliberate.

The weight of their unspoken encounter hung in the air, an unacknowledged presence that shaped the morning's routine.

He could still taste Number Two around his gums. Still smell his cock all over him.

"We'll head west today," Ezra said finally, breaking the silence again. "There's that ridge we need to investigate. Might happen upon something of promise there. It’s clear of Sater territory, I'm certain."

Number Two adjusted his gear in response, a subtle shift that Ezra noted with a mix of relief and a lingering sense of uncertainty.

"We'll take it slow," Ezra remarked after a while, more to himself than to Number Two, feeling the tightness of his lower back register, coiled from the precarious sleeping position on top of his companion all night. "No need to rush. We'll cover ground, but we'll do it right."

As they set about their tasks, Ezra stole occasional glances at Number Two, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

Yet Number Two’s physicality remained usually impassive, his focus unwavering on the work at hand.

It was as if they had silently, but collectively agreed to compartmentalise the night’s events, to preserve their fragile equilibrium in the harsh landscape.

As Ezra ambled, he absentmindedly fiddled with the tube of his tether under the unrelenting hot glare of the morning - as if the freeze hadn’t happened - a nervous tick he'd never encountered before.

His mind kept circling back to the subtle memories of the night. Each branding touch, every shared breath with Number Two, seemed amplified in the stark light of day.

The sensation of their bodies pressed together, the warmth exchanged in the cold confines of their tent, lingered like an ember in his thoughts.

He couldn't help but replay the intimacy, the electricity that had crackled between them, stirring a heat beneath his suit that had nothing to do with the suffocating environment.

His fingers trembled slightly, the memory of tracing the contours of Number Two's body and cock sending a surge of sensation through him.

The image of Number Two's face, contorting with pleasure, flashed vividly in his mind, making Ezra's cheeks flush beneath his helmet and his dick twitch involuntarily as it filled fat with blood again inside his suit.

Perhaps he would slip into the cot with him again, see where the night would carry them in its embrace as he found himself an abode inside of his willing counterpart.

As they scanned the horizon for any sign of valuable resources, Ezra’s earpiece suddenly crackled to life with an unexpected transmission.

The voice was faint, distorted by the harsh lunar environment, but unmistakably human.

“...distress beacon active... stranded... requesting immediate assistance…”

Ezra’s eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and calculation. This was their chance, an opportunity to escape this barren moon and its endless challenges.

He glanced at Number Two, his mind already formulating a plan.

“Number Two,” Ezra spoke in a low voice, his tone laced with a hint of urgency. “Did you hear that? A distress signal. Someone’s out here, needing help I reckon.” He grinned insidiously.

Number Two’s helmeted head turned slightly, acknowledging Ezra’s words without a spoken response.

“We could use this to our advantage,” Ezra continued, his voice taking on a persuasive edge. “Imagine our gain if we purport to rescue them. Resources, equipment, maybe even a way off this pisser of a rock.”

Number Two’s body language shifted imperceptibly, a subtle indication of consideration beneath the layers of his suit.

“We move fast,” Ezra declared, his eyes narrowing with determination. “Head towards the signal. If they’re in trouble, they’ll be grateful. Grateful enough to be… convinced.”

With a nod from Number Two, they adjusted their trajectory, each step a deliberate move towards their newfound objective. Ezra’s mind raced with possibilities, plotting the encounter ahead.

They would offer assistance, gain trust, and then leverage their newfound allies for their escape. It was a strategic opportunity, a calculated gamble that could change their fortunes.

With cautious steps, Ezra advanced across the rugged lunar terrain, his senses keenly attuned to any sign of movement or danger.

And then through the underbrush, he spotted it. The figure ahead stood solitary, dressed in a worn blue suit that seemed incongruous against the stark green landscape.

Despite Ezra's approach, the figure startled.

Ezra's eyes narrowed slightly as he drew nearer, observing with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

As Ezra prepared to speak, the figure raised a hand in a gesture that halted his words pre-sentence.

The man's voice, unexpectedly calm and composed, cut through the tense atmosphere.

"I've only just arrived," the man stated casually, addressing Ezra and Number Two with an air of nonchalance. "Just passing through when I spotted this old dig..."

Ezra exchanged a quick glance with Number Two, their unspoken communication conveying a shared sense of caution.

The man's presence raised more questions than answers - his calm demeanour and the mysterious mention of an "old dig" added layers of intrigue to an already enigmatic encounter on the bewitching moon’s surface.

"Curious," Ezra uttered, his voice soft, but tinged with a keen intensity that belied his suspicions.

He studied the man standing before him, aware of the nuances in his posture - the slight shift of weight, the avoidance of direct eye contact, the subtle hesitation in his speech.

Ezra's dark gaze sunk into the man with a scrutiny born of experience. He sensed that the stranger was concealing something, a falsehood woven into the fabric of his seemingly casual words.

“Well, if you guys need anything like a filter or some food-” The man began.

“Don’t see too many kips around these ways anymore.”

“Got word of the fade, couldn’t resist one last quick job.” The man said, a quiet tension lingered on his stance that Ezra recognised only too well.

"Not a kip, a returner…" Ezra remarked, his tone tinged with whammy as he processed the implications of what he’d just heard.

Ezra's brow furrowed slightly as he contemplated the significance of the revelation - the man before him was not merely passing through, but had returned to this remote outpost for a specific reason.

“I cocked it up for a time during the peak of the rush.” The man spoke and then noticed Number Two rummaging through his belongings with a relentless intensity that betrayed familiarity.

This wasn't the first time Number Two had engaged in such thorough rooting. He’d done this before with a practised ease as he pilfered.

“What’s he doing?” The panic rose to the back of the man’s throat.

“Is that a serious question?” Ezra pertained with some mirth.

“I told you, I just arrived. I don’t have anything!” The man protested.

“I believe you, gentle man.” Ezra glanced down at Number Two stripping the man’s pack diligently. "But my partner always needs a little convincing," Ezra continued, a wry smile playing at the corner of his lips. "He'll just kill me if I let you go without a thorough search."

The man, his expression a mix of resignation and understanding, met Ezra's gaze steadily.

"I never caught your name, friend," Ezra prompted, his tone implying both a desire for camaraderie and a subtle reminder of their roles in this tense exchange.

He was the arachnid and the man was the fly. It didn’t take a genius for them all to work out the stranger was immensely fucked.

The man sighed in defeat, eyeing Ezra with guarded uncertainty.

“It’s Damon.”

Ezra sighed too, a mixture of weariness and tentative relief escaping him like a breath of stale air. His shoulders relaxed imperceptibly as he extended a haughty chuckle in greeting.

The outcome of this exchange would be interesting.

“Nice to meet you Damon, I'm Ezra.”

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this story, as much as I did writing it. If you did, please give it some love by re-blogging so others can enjoy it too. Thankies so much! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

[gguk-n]

Can you please write second change romance with Lando where reader tells him "Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"

Reader is working at sky sports as a journalist. I hope you like it. I hope I did it justice.

Track of the Heart

{Reader's POV}

I knew the world was a small place and some times you run into people you are actively trying to avoid. For me, that was Lando Norris.

We were both young and in love. He was my first serious adult relationship. I loved him deeply; if you asked drunk me, I'd probably say that I still love him. But that was the past. He broke up with me because his fans didn't like me. The hate had gotten to the point that I had stopped using my phone except to call or text my friends and family and Lando knew. I had told him through tears about all the mean things people said about me. Part of me hoped that he would tell them off for it but what I didn't expect was for him to disregard it and let it get so bad that even at races people would name call me, even in front of Lando and he would do nothing. It affected my health, my mental peace and my studies. So, I did what was best for me; walked away.

That was 3 years ago. Right now I was standing face to face with the man that broke my heart. I knew when I applied for a position at Sky Sports that I would run into Lando. Luckily, I had stayed clear of him for the year that I had interned there; by only going to cover other sports and minor leagues. Today, the team was short staffed, they needed someone to help make the scripts and organise the cue cards, so they brought along a couple new hires. I did everything in my power to evade the race because it would mean being stuck on an F1 venue for a whole weekend with my ex. My direct superior wouldn't listen to any of my crap, as he put it and told me to pack my stuff and to meet him at the venue.

So here I was, awkwardly standing, in front of the supposed love of my life. He looked shocked to see me before his eyes flickered to the Sky Sports entry pass, as if a switch flipped. He smiled and greeted; "You're finally a sports journalist, like you always wanted to be. Congratulations" he said while raising his hand to shake mine. Out of courtesy, I moved all the files in my hands to my left and shook his hand. "My colleagues were saying you had your maiden win this season, so Congratulations I guess." I retorted. I adjusted the files in my hands, almost dropping one, which Lando quickly caught with his hand. I thanked him and left to see the team with all my files.

{Lando's POV}

Her hands were still soft like I remembered them with a sweet tinge of vanilla, her favourite body lotion. She had coloured her hair recently and she looked so much more professional and put together then I remembered. I guess it comes with the job. Hearing her congratulate me felt like home even if it felt like it was laced with sarcasm, like the only thing that ever mattered. How did I even celebrate a race without her? She was still clumsy I thought as I caught the file she almost dropped. The weekend just got more eventful I thought as she walked away.

---------------------------------------------------------

{Reader's POV}

If there is one thing I will advice you is that don't be a hard worker especially in a situation if it will land you working with your ex for the whole year. One of the members from the F1 team went on maternity leave and she spoke so highly of me that I ended up working on the races till she returned. Now to my horror, all the fans still remembered me. Even after 3 years, they did not hesitate to start up rumours about me and Lando being together and that we never really broke up and it was all a publicity stunt. I had to speak to my bosses to let them know that all of that was in the past and that I wasn't dating him anymore; they didn't care unless it affected my work.

Working at the paddock wasn't easy and Lando didn't make it any easier. He acted like a menace before and after interviews especially if I was around. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.

{Lando's POV}

Being around her reminded me why I had fallen in love with her in the first place. She brought the idiotic side of me out. "Mate, you need to stop annoying Y/N. She'll strangle you one day." Carlos said while they were on the drivers parade. "She wouldn't. There's a reason she's tolerating me." I said. "Yeah, sky sports pays her to do her job." Carlos laughed. Part of me wanted to believe that she tolerated me because she still loved. But I knew that was selfish of me, since the reason we broke up lay heavily on me.

This made me want to be closer to her. I guess proximity made the heart softer. I found myself bringing her snacks or treats during her long days. Slowly but surely I found myself back in her arms. We didn't out right say it, but we were dating each other. She made the weekends even more enjoyable. It was exhilarating to be running around trying not to get caught; until we did get caught. It was like a switch flipped inside her and she stopped seeing me.

{Reader's POV}

The gifts and the sneaking away and having someone care for me got to me. Before I knew it I was back in Lando's arms. I knew getting back together with Lando was a bad idea. All my suspicions were confirmed when a picture of us leaving together from a club in Las Vegas made rounds. The hate was worse then before; it's like they forgot there was a person behind it all. I couldn't even shut off social media because of my work. I didn't want to be seen with him anymore; I was going to stop reporting for F1 and live my life covering other sports. Hopefully they didn't find me there. Lando was still persistent even after I had stopped talking to him and cut him off.

"Babe, you gotta stop running away from me." Lando spoke cornering me, out of breath from the running. "I have work to do, if you'll excuse me Mr Norris." I said. "Since, when was I Mr Norris?" He questioned. "Since a while, I never should've gotten back with you." I declared. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered. "Actually I do." saying that broke my heart because deep down I loved him but it didn't feel like he loved me. "But I love you. Don't you love me?" he asked. "It doesn't matter what I feel, when you'll never reciprocate it." I pointed out. "What do you mean?" he pleaded. "Lando, the exact reason we broke up was because you couldn't stick up for me. I knew you and yet I got myself involved in this." I sighed. "But, baby I need you." he voiced. I laughed, there were tears in my eyes, "Not enough to stick up for me." "What's gotten into you?" Lando probed. "Nothing's gotten into me, I should've stayed away from you. Your fans hate me, they always have. They want me fired; did you know that?" I asked. Lando was at a loss for words.

"You know when we broke up I wanted you to want me. But you love your fans more." I commented. "It's not like that I love you more, I missed you a lot after we broke up." he said. "Not enough to clear the air anyways." I voiced out. "What do you want me to do?" Lando asked trying to reach for my hands. "Love me, choose me. For once in your damned life, fight for me. If you really want me you'll do something, or you can watch me walk away for the second time." I stated while turning on my heels and leaving.

I did not expect Lando to do what he did next. He made a statement on every social media account of his, even Quadrants; it read-

Hi guys, Lando here. I would like to let you all know that I love Y/N Y/L/N who is currently working for Sky Sports F1. We used to date a few years ago but we broke up because of my foolishness. Fate gave me another chance and I don't want to blow it. If any of you have any issue with her, keep it to yourself. Because she is here to stay for as long as she will have me. Kindly refrain from sending her any hate if you love and support me. If you do send hate, I will be forced to take legal action to protect the love of my life.

I was sat in shock reading the statement. I can already imagine the train wreck McLaren PR must be in. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sweaty Lando with a big bouquet of flowers, chocolates and a couple gift bags. "I know this isn't a lot, but this is a start. Let me apologise. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you. Please take me back." he said with tears in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you too Lando Norris." I declared. Lando dropped all the stuff on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let you down, I promise." he said. "I'll hold you to it." I said. "You can hold it against me for the rest of our lives." he told. "I don't think you want me that long." I laughed. He broke our embrace to cup my cheeks, "I'll have you as long as you'll let me stay." and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I think I'll like to have you inside for now." I said while pulling him in and closing the door.

[the-californicationist]

Hi 🥺( I’m lotharwinchester on ao3)

It says in your ask guidelines that you’re willing to write in a trans prospective? I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a fanfic where soap and/or price goes to pride with their trans masc squad mate because they’ve never been supported enough to go? (Their relationship could be any one, romantic or platonic) I love your writing, like I can always visualize to the t everything you’re describing. 🥰

Lothar!! Omg hiiii ^_^ I am always so stoked to see your comments, friend! I would be honored to write this fic for you. <3 <3 I hope this is what you were imagining. Happy Pride!!

You'll Never Walk Alone

Spotting him in the crowd was surprisingly easy. To be fair, he was huge. His shoulders sprawled high above a pair of lovers, decked out in their rainbow gear, kissing and hugging each other like their lives depended on it, fully dressed in their pride. If there was ever a time to bring out the tacky rainbow merch, it was today. But, John was in all black. 

You didn’t mind. Not everyone had a closet that was prepared for the city’s annual Pride Parade. You were just glad that he could make it. 

No, that was wrong. You were glad that he decided to come. You didn’t need him to be clad in rainbows. Choosing to be here versus just being available to be here were two very different things. His presence meant the world to you. 

All through training, your captain had never treated you with disrespect. He’d learned your name and your pronouns, and you had a suspicion that everyone else on base had been strongly encouraged to learn them as well. When you rendezvous’d with new teams, he reinforced your identity, making sure that the one or two snide remarks or misgenderings that slipped through were cut down without mercy. He was a fearsome ally, and you felt lucky to have him.

You’d transitioned alone. In fact, most of the people who you had called friends in your life had cut you out of theirs before you’d even had a chance to tell them about your true identity. They knew that you had refused to conform to their idea of how you should have dressed, how you should have worn your hair, how you should have behaved, and that had been enough for them to abandon you. Your heart ached to know that their friendship had been conditional. Those people had wanted to make you feel ashamed of yourself, of who you had finally been able to become now that you were out from under their oppressive darkness.

But, you weren’t ashamed. You were determined. You joined up with the RAF, eventually making it through to the SAS, and you promised yourself that if you had to die for your country, you’d not die with your deadname still hanging heavy around your neck.

So, you changed it. Officially. Price had even been there to help you with the paperwork. 

This was your first official pride after coming out, and although crowds tended to make any good soldier a little nervous, you had actually never felt more secure. Wearing your rainbow-strapped backpack with your blue, pink, and white trans pride tee was not how you usually chose to represent yourself in public. To be honest, you usually dressed like Price, dark and covert, but not today. Today, you wanted to be yourself, loudly. 

You caught your captain’s eye and waved him down. Watching the street for scooters or bikes, he jogged over to you, joining you in the back of the parade. 

“Hey, mate. Good to see ya.” His voice was deep and comforting. He shook your hand with genuine warmth, falling into step beside you. 

“You, too. I’m glad you’re here, Cap.” You studied his face, still moved by his support.

“All dressed up? Lookin’ sharp.” Price examined your outfit, getting a good look at your facepaint as well. You’d gotten it done at the start of the parade, and you were sure it had halfway flaked off by now. 

“Thanks. Oh! Almost forgot. Picked up one of these for you, if you want it.” You handed him a pin. It was a simple pride flag button, but the look on his face was full of surprise and gratitude. 

“Nice! Sorry about my lack of rainbows, mate. But, I found this shirt I got for The Reds’ season last year, and I reckoned it’d do.”

Price unzipped his black hoodie and held out his shirt, stretching it for you to see the words. It was the Liverpool Football Club’s merch with their famous song title emblazoned on the front.

“You’ll never walk alone,” you read aloud, looking up at Price for clarification.

“Aye. You’ll never walk alone, either, mate. Promise you that. In fact, the boys should be here any minute.”

He looked down at his watch and then searched through the crowd at the next intersection. You peered into the swarm of flags and glitter and people and saw them there; Soap, Gaz, and Ghost all standing together, craning their necks, searching for you and the captain. 

Gaz had come prepared with a big billowing flag in his hands, Soap had clearly had way more fun at the face painting booth than you did, and Ghost, although dressed in just as much black as Price, wore a trans pride medical mask over his mouth. 

Price let out a shrill whistle, the pitch of which made your blood run cold from its familiarity. All at once, the trio turned toward you, and when they saw your faces, they broke out into smiles, trotting towards you as they folded around the hoard of people. 

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by your team, laughing and joking and dancing together through the street, the music vibrating through your chest, your cheeks burning from your perpetual smile.

Johnny was having the time of his life, somehow charming his way onto a nearby float, waving the flags back and forth like he was leading a charge. Gaz and Ghost were walking in front of you, chatting with the people around you, catching candy being tossed from the crowd.

Price hung back, still keeping step with you. Suddenly, you felt something brush against your wrist. When you looked down, you saw your captain's huge palm swooping under yours to catch it. He took your hand in his, holding it firmly, squeezing it. You looked up at him and smiled, squeezing back.

Where there had once been gray, heavy clouds, now there was only a pale blue sky, and as you felt the sun heat your skin on this chilly June morning, you’d never been more proud to be who you are.

[cmyk-anaglyph-honeycomb]

Helluva Boss S2E9 blind blogging

[did the minimum about of editing and half of it was done while I was at work, so please excuse any grammar mistakes.]

(Mostly relating to the last episode)

Again, Stolas refuses to just talk. He was walking away and teleported Blitzo out of the building but now, after ignoring texts, he gets pissy cuz Blitzo wants to talk. 100% of this is because Stolas doesn't want a conversation. Blitzo misunderstands his intentions and jumps to conclusions, but when at least 3 opportunities to talk are given, Stolas shuts down.

Also where was this desire for a real relationship months ago after Blitzo admitted that he didn’t see their relationship as anything other than Stolas wanting to sleep with him. THAT is when they should've had an honest talk not mouths of avoiding each other.

(Okay now this ep)

God they made Blitzo so obnoxious to prove a point.

Veronika is a famous popstar, wtf does she care enough to throw an anti-Blitzo party? They have barely interacted in the show, never once in this season, why is she suddenly so pissed at him? How does she know Stolas is an ex, that happened recently.

If Stolas is that ‘done’ with Blitzo why doesn’t he just teleport him off the property again?

"Im UnCoMfOrTaBlE wITh HoW yOuRe SpEaCkInG tO mE nOw" fuck off. You had no problem going on a rant about all the dirty shit you wanted to do to him while he was being fucking gun down but now that shits uncomfortable. 

Stolas said whatever he wanted to Blitzo whenever he wanted and the second he doesn't feel like it, talking like that is breaking a huge boundary. Jump off a bridge.

Where did he get the impression that Blitzo and Striker were friends? Besides the games he never saw them around each other. Gives of the ‘these kids are near each other so they must be best friends’ energy. Like, no, they just met.

"You knew someone was trying to assassinate me?" 🥺 Yeah your wife was screaming about it two feet from your face. If it wasn’t important then, it isn’t important now.

I'll give Stolas the Striker thing and immediately take it away cuz it wasn’t like Stolas sounded afraid or even concerned during the phone call. How tf was Blitzo supposed to know royals could get hurt? Striker only had one angel weapon as far as IMP knew.

"Why would I allow everyone to see how much I like you? How I’ve tried to try so fucking hard to show I like you, to support you."

Fucking when? Where? Name literally one time. That shit at the harvest moon festival doesn't count because if Stolas actually cared he would've paid attention to how uncomfortable Blitzo was with him shouting pet names directly into the microphone. He’d know that him and Striker aren’t friends. Blitzo using the book was an arrangement for sex that Stolas offered. That is not support.

The one and only time their relationship was called out by others Stolas hid his face. Anything after has been in private and not where anyone, not even Blitzo was a witness. Ozzie is the only other person Stolas has openly confessed his feelings for. And he's with his own imp, so of course he isn't going to make a big deal about it.

“That was still the gayest thing I’ve heard all day!” Ignoring the actual line, why is he going feral? Wtf is this scene for? It's so out of place for what’s going on. This is something Loona would do.

“I don’t own you dick.” He’s right tho. Stolas tried to change the relationship without giving Blitzo a heads up or even communicating properly and then got butthurt when he didn’t get the answer he wanted and that was before Blitzo went off on him. And that’s after months of avoiding each other. This talk about changing their arrangement should’ve happen after Ozzie’s. Or at least hinted in Seeing Stars.

Why is the murder family wife getting an apology like she didn't try to kill IMP too ?Why does Blitzo know where she lives. DHORKS shouldn’t get apologies either, kinda ruins the point of Blitzo doing this ‘my name is Earl joke’ if he's apologizing to these people he had the right to hurt. I wonder if Moxxie got an apology.

The party has no music, making it the funniest scene in the series.

I knew they were going to make Veronika the bad one but good lord what is this. Are she and Stella drinking the same crazy juice? That made her Lute levels of crazy. 

You're telling me that ALL these people are Blitzo's exes? That insufferable ass? Is he supposed to drop dead gorgeous and the crew didn't tell us?? cuz no way this annoying man can pull that many people.

How did Blitzo get that far into the party and no one, all of which are there because of how much they hate him, didn't notice? Did he sleep with that many people or just date them? Why are any of these people wasting their time like this? Blitzo isn't important, he doesn't do anything. He is another asshole in hell, a place filled with assholes. Wtf is Blitzo's shitty behavior so out of place?

Oh look another situation where Stolas being in a relationship with an imp is not given any levels of importance or notice. 

So Tex is just mouthing the words right, cuz no way his voice is just blending in like that. Why is he here? 

Did they recast Stolas's singing actor? This song is bland. The singing is okay, but the music might as well not be there.

He's whining about still wanting Blitzo but refuses to speak with him or attempting to get him to have a serious conversation. He has no idea what Blitzo wants and has never asked once.

Stolas is drunk now? He only had a few drinks. In the circus he downed an entire bottle and was fine. Now a few drinks of spiked punch and he's wasted?

They throw this party every year!? You are shitting me. Why? He has signs posted everywhere. His crew is three other people, just kill him if he's that big of a problem. 

The creators cannot convince me that all these people care more about Blitzo than the oppressive society they live in, a member of which Stolas is.

Stolas's drunk rant kinda reveals that he wants to be loved and less that he wants to be in a loving relationship with Blitzo specifically. Interesting.

Seconds later Stolas is flustered by some random guy just asking to dance. Interesting.

How does Verosika know about the apology tour? He walked out on her when she said I love you, okay that's bad, but after spending so much of the episode making her look like a crazy ex, it gives off the impression that he dodged a bullet. At the very least Blitzo is actually in the wrong and it isn't some misunderstanding like with Fizz.

Glad they addressed that Blitzo being bad at relationships is a weird thing to focus on but it isn't explained. Unless he is extremely abusive, many people should not care about him / still be angry. These people live in an environment where they can be murdered at any time and almost no one would care / do anything to help. Compared to all that, a shitty boyfriend is kinda nothing.

I’m glad Verosika wasn’t completely shat on during this episode, especially in the last bit. We probably won’t be seeing her again but at least she got to leave with grace. 

I like the ending song.

Final thoughts. This episode worked overtime to make Blitzo the bad guy. It pulled maybe 100 people out of nowhere to justify Stolas’s anger and for what? The way he was so quick to hook up with another guy, shows he doesn’t care about Blitzo, he cares about the idea of a good relationship. That’s fine on its own, but the first part of this episode and the end of the last was about Stolas making his shattered pipe dream Blitzo’s problem.

Out of all the episodes that do not have a B plot why is it this one?

[yjwfiles04]

a d m i s t o f c h a o s .

pairing: idol!jungwon × afab!reader | deliberately lowercased.

word count: 3,872 words

synopsis: you were just an ordinary student living a not so ordinary life and also a fangirl of a kpop idol boy group named "enhypen". you were just living your boring life ever since summer vacation had started. then suddenly; your so called 'idols' suddenly showed up in your place.

genre: idol au (?), angst, comfort, fluff

warnings: mentions of past traumas, rape, touching, cheating, rebel, sickness, crying, sobbing, kissing, and more ! (lmk)

author's note: hellooo! this is my first time writing here and i wrote this story based in my dream ㅠㅠ, it may not be exactly the same as what i've dreamed of because i changed few things in the story, cuz ya know that dreams can be a little bewildering and things were just convoluted in there. so yea, hope you enjoy reading and please like and reblog this, pretty please? >_<

ever since vacation has started, all you did was to stay up all night, watch tiktoks, reels, read, draw, eat, and sleep. very typical for an ordinary person who've anxiety interacting with people. aside from those things people says 'boring', you also spend your time stanning enhypen. voting on the awards they participated in, watching their contents, and basically supporting and loving them. you sometimes go biking around your neighborhood with your friend for productivity and simply to be free just for a moment, cause life's not very considerate when it comes to you.

your family runs a sports tailoring shop in the city and there where your family stays. the first floor is where the shop is and the second floor is where you guys sleep. actually, your family have a house, but it's quite far from where the lives of people were running so your parents decided to just stay in the shop so it can be convenient for all.

aside from that, you may have a very tortuous and unique siblings. you are the youngest child in your family, two older brothers and a sister. accordingly, you have an eldest brother who is already married and had a daughter, your sister who is also married and had two sons, a brother who's a year older and just got over a breakup, and there you are; a girl who is obsessed with seven men who doesn't know you (?) and never been in a relationship.

when you were a little, everything seems to go well. of course, you were just a child, they were going to keep things from you because firstly, you won't really gonna understand, secondly; to prevent you from hurting, or so you thought? but then pandemic hits, and nearly all things changed. the kid who's just a kid abruptly has to face affliction, distress, adversity, suffering, misfortune, and sorts of hardships. you were just a kid, a kid who didn't do anything to deserve those... and that experiences, made you different. someone they don't really know, even you yourself at some times don't know who you really are. no one to talk to about what's happening deep down there in your life cause you're afraid they'll judged you, but even if not, they were busy worrying about their own problems. apart from that, you're not a very open person when it comes to problem matter. moreover for almost infinite disasters you've faced and facing, you thought you were just going to be stuck in that place forever, but then you find not just some to escape the admist of chaos in your life. enhypen, a group of men who saves you, made you strong and brave through their motivations, story, and songs.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .

after a long physically and mentally exhausting day, you hurriedly cleaned up and hopped on your bed at the top in the bunk bed you and your brother shared. you decided to draw on your sketchbook since you're bored so you took out your phone and find inspiration on pinterest. laying whilst scrolling, you find a drawing of jungwon; a kpop idol you adore and love deeply and find solace of. that catches your interest so you click it and eventually, you decided to draw him. while you're in the middle drawing him, the sleepiness inside you suddenly awoken so you put down your mechanical pencil and doze off, the left side of your face on the top of your right hand while laying flat on your stomach.

you got woken up by the noises downstairs so you decided to go down and check why is it so noisy, you didn't fully go down, just a few steps from the door of the second floor. and just to see the tall men sitting in the seating area of the shop. you rubbed your eyes and go down a few steps more, you were nonplussed by what you see. so you tried to rubbed your eyes more harshly, and when that didn't work, you slap yourself hard enough reasoning for the people downstairs to notice you.

"aww, that hurts," you said to yourself and looked at them again. it hit you, you aren't hallucinating. so you hurriedly go back and lie down on your bed. "what the actual freak?!" you mutter. then someone pulled the curtain that covers you and your bed. "y/n, why won't you go down? they are waiting for you," your mom says. "is that really enhypen?!" said you and scratches your head. "does it look like you're dreaming? take a shower and get dressed so you won't look like a beggar, they have been waiting for you," she says and leaves you.

turmoil still lingers but you did what your mother told you to do. you wear a white shirt with an oversized plaid fannel shirt and a jeans that matches your outfit. as you go downstairs, their attention went on you. you immediately go to the corner where they can't see much of you, looking down straight away. "hey, y/n, don't be bashful. we won't bite," you look up and see jay smiling at you but agitatedly look down. "we came here for you so if you don't come here, our efforts just to see you will end in nothing," heeseung says in a gentle tone but with a jot of irony. feeling fensive, you unconfidently walk towards them eyes stuck on the floor. as you got closer to them and stands still like a statue,

a hand grab yours and drags you to sit beside them. you can tell whose hand is it by just looking at it through your line of site. you know that hand too well to know whose is it. looking at the owner of the hand, you know yourself you're right. it's his hand, the hand of the person who gives you comfort, you can feel him, it's jungwons hand. you looked at him with awe, reverence, hero worship, fondness, tenderness, intimacy, warmth, and you name it. all sorts of love and adornments while you scrutinize over him. he's such an eyesome. no words could describe how you feel at this moment. "it's nice to see you, y/n," he says and flash a smile that shows his dimple. oh you swear to the ones above, it's so surreal.

you smiled back but then again, realization smacks at you, "w-what are you guys doing here?" you said while looking around confused. "that doesn't matter why we're here, what matter's we're here... for you," jake glance and grins at you. you look at them one by one because no matter what process you do in your mind you can't match the puzzles of why they're here. "y/n, don't think too much about why we're here, we don't want to stress you out, hmm?" ni-ki says to make you calm down. you agreed, you don't want to stress yourself about the complexities that are happening right now. the salient here is to make the most of the moment that are here now, right?

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .

following the haywire circumstances, enhypen asks you what you wanted to do for the day, you can't think of anything because you don't actually do anything sensible every day since the vacation had commenced. hence, all you could think of is... riding a bike?? (what?)

"you sure you want... to ride a bike?" sunghoon said while scratching the back of his head. he didn't expect you to take them for a bike ride because honestly, he expected something bigger. but of course, as a boring human being you are, that's something big you could think of. and besides, you don't want to ask something materialistic to them, that'll be too much you think. "yeah, this is all i could think of at this moment, i'm so sorry if i disappointed you guys," saying that, you smiled bitterly at them. "n-no, i didn't mean anything by that–", "don't mind him, y/n, he really wants to ride a bike and he's just too perplexed to see you," sunoo interrupted sunghoon then grabs your hand to get the bikes for the both of you.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .

what all you did for today was roamed around your town, and when every single one of you were tired, you thought of having a mini picnic for a while by the river where there weren't many people as per the sunset's gradually showing out. after that you thought of inviting them to the fair with you, as it's getting dark; the rides and playgrounds there will be lit up and and little by little, people started going there to wander around. you all enjoyed going there, you played different games like shooting the ball, darts, and so on. heeseung and jay won a teddy bear and they gave it to you, saying it was a remembrance. y'all also ride different types of rides such as the vikings, mini roller coaster, horror train where others told you they weren't scared but when y'all got inside they screamed their lungs out, and more rides. of course when some were hungry each of you decided to eat, you ate dinner there since there were many choices and places to eat.

you can't help but to be amused by this moments with them, even though it's not vain, it's ecstatic.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .

after a long magical exhausting day with them, they insisted you come with them to spend the night at the condominium they rented so they could still spend time with you, you have no idea why your family agreed to that but they did. you all managed to watch the movie because you weren't sleepy yet.

while watching, "do you think this will be the finale?" said sunoo abruptly.

despondency etched on his face. you couldn't help but to be stupefied looking at the big screen. "guess everything doesn't lasts forever..." ni-ki answered deeply. it makes you think, that what if, after all the convival you spent together, will it end just like that?

does joy doesn't take long to fade when it comes to you?

you smiled, but the pain is etched in your smiles. nothing lasts forever. forever is a lie. all we have is what's between hello and goodbye. yeah, that's right. forever is not in the vocabulary of the ones above when it comes to you. it's waggish, very very.

tears coming from your eyes, "ey c'mon! it's just a movie, don't fall that easily!" sunghoon says but he's also tearing up. "that's right. of course there's forever. that's not just where forever revoles," jungwon replied and looks at you while you wipe your tears. "okay, okay, let's go to sleep, maybe y'all cry again later," heeseung says and laughs slightly. y'all stand up.

"so... y/n, goodnight?" jake said. "hmm, i guess. goodnight?" you replied. you hugged them one by one, and when you hugged them all except jungwon, you looked at him with bit doubt, nervous to hug him. he gave you an assurance look and take your wrist. then he place it on his back as he places his on your waist. at that moment all you feel is alleviation and solace. you deepen the hug by putting your other hand on his back and he did that as well. after a moment, both of you break the hug and didn't say anything.

"now, let's sleep. goodnight sweetie y/n, see ya?" jake said while yawning, they bid goodbye and went to their rooms so you went in to yours too.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .

since you entered your room, you tried to sleep but no matter what position you took you couldn't fall asleep. because you had nothing to do, you remembered that the condominium has a balcony in the living room where you watched earlier so you thought of going there.

when you got there you saw the glass door was slightly open in the middle, there was a little air coming in causing the curtains to sway a little. you approached it and opened it, there you saw the lights coming from the city and some lights that were on from another condominium. the wind brushes over you. you can also see the pool at the bottom without people cause it's already dark, what caught your attention was the big moon focused on you, the moon is full, and its light is strange along with some shining stars. the moon also works as another ambient light.

you sat on the corner of the balcony and hugged your knees feeling the breeze. all of a sudden, you zoned out looking at the big round moon in front you. you can't help but to shed tears. everything you've been through comes back to you like strike of lightning. all of the suffering returns like a ghost. with everything you've been through, you've handled it, you've been able to handle it on your own. but no matter what you do, they never let you go, the problem's always there, you're like a prey that they keep coming back to hunt. and now you look like a crying child who's sobbing her heart out.

"y/n..." a worried voice called out to you. startled, you wiped your tears and stood up to see who it was. "jungwon–w-what are you doing here?" you swallowed when you said that. "i-i was just going to get some water but then i saw the door was slightly open so i looked to see if anyone is here" he said and also swallowed his own saliva. "a-are you okay?" he looks at you concerned but you just ignored it. "ha... i'm just venting here, i can't sleep–", "you know you can tell me anything, right?" he approached you a little causing you to suddenly get panicked. "h-huh? d-don't worry about me, i'm totally fine–" next thing you knew, he's hugging you.

"even if you say you're fine, i feel like you're not. you can admit that to me, i understand you. and if not, i will understand you… i will try to."

and when he said that, the tears that you'd been holding back since he arrived just plunged. and now, you're a crying mess on his chest. "you can tell me everything, i will listen." as he said stroking your hair. after a few moments of silence and all could hear was your sobbing, you decided to tell a him everything.

"i-i was just a kid... w-when, all the disasters happened..." you start. "at a young age, at a young age i witnessed my mom being hurt because of my father... not physically but i know in her heart, she was hurting... ever since my mom went abroad to support my older siblings, that's when my fater cheated... me and my other older brother were not there yet, so my eldest brother and sister are the ones who e-experienced the suffering from my dad. the worst of the hardships they suffered because my shameless father took in his mistress in our home. took almost every furniture so my older siblings find it hard to survive, almost all of our equipment ended up in his mistress..." you explained.

"but you know what hurts? he touched my freaking sister w-while mom was not there. you know? not only that, apart from some of his attachments, he had a c-child with his other mistresses." i cried while holding his shirt on his chest. "he took drugs, became a drunkard, a womanizer. i grew up witnessing and knowing them because my mother made me aware. and... a-and when the pandemic came... that's when i collapsed like a cliff... i was just sleeping... i'm still young, still young. i woke up to find him on top of me, rubbing his body against me."

there your crying got louder and louder. jungwon didn't say anything even though he was shocked by what you said, instead he hugged you tighter to ease what you're feeling. "i t-told that to my m-mom, she said... she said we she's going to make my dad go to jail, b-but, but it didn't happen... now, now w-we are still living with him under the same roof."

"because of him my life is ruined... j-jungwon, my life is ruined because of him. i don't know how to move forward. because every time i see him, everything comes back... everything. everything i used to do changed. i'm also afraid to wear short clothes, afraid getting close to m-men. then... other than that, various things happened between me and my family... jungw-won, i'm so tired and i don't i know what to do... i don't know how to resolve it." you pulled your hair and continued to cry.

"j-just after those, something... s-something happened with me and my brother. it was also night and i was sleeping peacefully... when i felt my brother behind me and was hugging me... i don't know if it's because of my trauma that am I so s-scared but i feel that he's touching me, i-i told that to my mom again but she just ignored it, she said it's normal for siblings... i know, maybe, but i'm not used to it... only you guys make me feel comfortable... especially y-you. then b-because of that, i thought of running away, they didn't know where i went, they called me by the phone... but i d-didn't answer. t-the river we went to? there was i went, t-they didn't know that place. but because i-i was afraid that if something happens to my mom while she's finding me, so i said i was there, i told my m-mom and she went to see me. she cried, and i didn't mean to make her cry but i want to go away, i want to leave to feel the freedom i've been longing. i don't want to hurt them, i didn't want them to think i'm a rebel, but what can i d-do... that's when i also realized that my sister became a rebel because of what happened to her... n-now, that's not just the only problem i'm having..."

"we're financially unstable and mom is getting old, m-my side line job is not enough to support my c-collage... mom is s-sick, but i can't do anything, i-i want to help her, treat her. b-but i was raised not to be able to express feelings and c-care. i want to h-help her but i just can't. i want to fin-ish my studies but it's hard if we're short on money a-and mom's income is just enough for daily expenses. h-how can i help her in the future if I'm not sure if i have a future. jungwon, i'm s-so tired... i don't know anymore..." your tears didn't have time to dry because they kept flowing.

after you told your story there was huge silence, jungwon just let you cry and pour out your feelings. after what you've said he didn't feel any disgust, irritation, or anything else. he tried to understood you, and even if he didn't feel what you were feeling he understood you. he's there for you, that's the least he's done and could do for you. to be there for you and be your companion thru these tears.

when you calmed down you let go of the hug and looked at him. "thank you, thank you for listening and for not letting me feel my story's nonsense. and for trying to understand me. i am very grateful to you, jungwon." i smiled at him and he wiped my tears.

he smiled back. "shh... i'm here because i want to be the person you can lean on." he holds your right hand and kissed it. at this moment you really know thay he's your solace, a person who you find comfort to. a person who you can tell everything without judgment. a person who try to understand you. a person who's your everything. you love him, so so damn much.

he hugged you once again and broke the hug. you were surprised when he suddenly brought out a box and opened it infront of you. "a necklace?" asked you, he nodded and took it out the box. "i want you to keep this for me. this will serve as your protection whenever I'm not around and whenever you need someone to be with you in what you're going through and what you've been through." he looked at you and slowly attached the necklace. he couldn't help but to smile at the sight of you. you're gorgeous.

he then puts his hands to your cheecks comes closer a bit. "can i?" he asked, asking for assurance.

you nodded, and there he slowly brings his face closer to you until there's no space. he kissed you so gently as if you're something so pure to him and he didn't want to hurt. he kissed you without sexual desire, just full benevolent and endearment. you feel at cloud nine. he then removed his hand from your cheeks and placed it on your waist as you placed your hands on his neck. the kiss deepened and... and... what?...

"y/n, wake up! prof. kim's mad!" said the voice near you. huh? because you haven't woken up and that person shook you. "oh come on, y/n. do you want to be put in detention?" it mutter. when you didn't respond, the person in front speaks loud, "ms. y/n why are you sleeping in my class?!"

you got irritated so you replied loudly, "what?!" the person who tried to wake you up is rather shocked and so is the other students.

"that's it, ms. y/n to the principals office after class. you're already sleeping in my class and now you have the face to scream like that." the professor says who happens to be mr. kim. you looked at the person next to you and saw your best friend. it looks at you like a ghost.

it was all just a dream? wtf?

after the class, apologized to your best friend for how you've acted and immediately packed your things to head to the principals office, when you open your bag you saw a teddy bear you swore wasn't there. "did you put this here?" you asked your best friend who's also packing her stuff.

"no? why would i put that there?" she replied. "maybe you have an admirer," you just look at her confused then suddenly you remember from your dream that you did go to a fair and two people gave a teddy bear to you, it's exactly the same teddy in your dream. then again, you remembered the necklace so you look at them in your bag but there's nothing to be found.

you almost jumped out of your body when you realized that there was a glowing pendant around your neck so you touched it.

"nice necklace, where did you get that?" your best friend asks, and from that moment you became a cement. how can these things be here if you never had anything like this...

could it be real?... isn't that just a dream?

[philtstone]

title: check yes, juliet

Summary:

It doesn't matter that Juliet is a freshly-minted, top-of-her-class field agent (alright, so she hasn't actually been in the field yet) or one of the few women working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation's cutting edge check fraud department (just last week, their 20-year-old coffee maker broke and they ran out of number two pencils to mark up their overhead projector notes with): every time her mother calls, all she does is lament that her beautiful, intelligent daughter isn't meeting any eligible bachelors.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Maryanne sighs eventually. “All O’Hara women fall for liars, Julie. It’s our curse.”

Juliet has to wonder if she didn't scoff at her mother's claim a little bit too soon.

my brother & i had the earth shattering realization a month ago that the plot of "catch me if you can" (2002) is almost to a tee just a mildly alternate psych timeline and that thought has lived in my head rent free to such an insane degree that eventually 14 thousand words poured out of me in au fic form. im posting it so as many other people as possible can see the vision. and also because im sure theres one person other than me who revels in early seasons shawnjuliet's frankly insane levels of chemistry, lol. enjoy!

READ FULL FIC ON AO3

Excerpt:

“Your average bounced check would be routed to the bank it originates from, so you’d only really have a few days in one place before you were discovered. This guy’s been filing off the routing numbers, changing ‘em somehow – so cleanly and neatly that it’ll take a real sharp eye to notice. It’s all about the branch you’re cashing it in. A check cashed in at Chase Manhattan with the one changed to ten’s gonna bounce halfway around the country before anyone figures out it’s rotten, and by that point this asshole is long gone. The numbers go East, Central, West – you see how they cover 0-60, 70-80, and of course they require a special kind of ink to be recognized as real checks, which you’d all know if you’d read the report I circulated …”

Juliet doesn’t notice the full cup of orange juice in front of her until it’s too late. 

Her head’s still full of Carlton’s two hour long briefing this morning, during which she learned more about check fraud than she’d have ever thought a single person could in one lifespan. Certainly not Juliet, who’d originally studied literature at Florida State. Then again, back then she’d have never expected to end up an FBI agent, either.

Then there’s the wired, tense feeling in her gut that probably won’t go away ‘til this sting is over and they bring in the pathetic local guy Carlton’s been tracking for the last week. His MO is pretty girls in pastel dresses, which made Juliet the right man – woman – for the job. At least maybe doing this’ll help the guys in the office take her seriously as a field agent. And, well … she does love a nice peachy pink cardigan. The color goes well with her complexion.

“This idiot’s no real con man, he’s just a clown who can’t be bothered to work an honest job. Child’s play compared to the real thing. ” Carlton tends to pause here, angry that he’s got to acknowledge it like that – the real thin g. “ You know what they’ve been calling him in the papers these days?”  

Him . Always him. They don’t have a name on the subject yet, despite over a million cashed in fraudulent checks. Juliet hums and nods so her partner feels acknowledged. 

“ The skywayman . Pathetic. Like he’s some magician or something, instead of a two-bit liar who thinks he’s smarter than me. ”

“This isn’t personal, Carlton ,” Juliet says tiredly. “ It’s not like he knows who you are to be deliberately toying with you.”  

“Oh yes he is. I know he is. I know him .”

Her hands aren’t quite shaking, because that would be stupid; this guy, their local guy, shouldn’t have a gun on him, and if he does he’s not the type to shoot a woman. Juliet focuses on the paper in front of her and tucks a lock of her hair behind one ear. A window of ten minutes – that’s what Carlton said. Unlike Carlton’s unsub nemesis, they know plenty about this one. He’ll come in, dressed like the middle-aged schlub he is, loose tie probably, gray slacks, thinning hair. He’ll notice her, buy her a soda she’ll accept with a faulty check and then pick her pocket for the cash. The string of pearls at her neck makes her a sweet college girl whose parents have money. She mentally forces herself to stop chewing her lip and instead moves her right hand down to her lap, where she can pick at her nail polish without anyone seeing. 

“Well, obviously we wanna catch him,” Agent Dobson says, when they’re a third of the way through the morning briefing and half the room is asleep or dreaming of lunch. Juliet, of course, has been furiously taking notes. He means the Skywayman; he means the real thing. “But you gotta admit, Lassiter, there is a bit of a magic show to a good con, isn’t there? The press has that one thing right.”

“It’s not magic. It’s lies and deceit and a healthy helping of audacity, and a damn good typewriter. O’Hara, write that down. We’re gonna go through that list of makes and models again, see what we can come up with.”

Deep breath. Her purse, orange to match the cardigan, is in her lap. The gun’s in the purse. She’ll draw it, but not to shoot. This is the kind of work she’s begged the Chief for, and she’ll be just fine.

Maybe Juliet would feel less desperate to prove herself if this diner wasn’t in Miami, and her father didn’t gift her the only string of pearls she owns.

A voice clears itself quietly above her.

“Uh, excuse me? Hi, yeah, hi. That’s my seat.”

READ MORE

[eightballspins]

SUMMER

pairings : jongseob (p1h) x male reader

warnings : none, but like really pathetic pining and oblivious men not knowing how to act around their crushes (shota is sick and tired of yall)

rating : fluff :D

requested? : yesyesyes!!! thank u 🩵 anon, i don't think you were expecting a full fledged fanfic as a response to your request LMAO so do send in another one if you want a more simple headcanon version of this, i just couldnt help but go a lil crazy LMAO

a/n : strangers to friends to lovers, one of my favorite tropes. jongseob is definitely giving loser pining nerd in this one, but its ok bc hes so cute + this wasn't meant to be this long, but i couldnt help but go a little crazy + i highly suggest listening to the song while reading because it really sets the mood imo (summer by brockhampton)+ i had that ^ seob in mind while writing this btw hes just so heart eyes emoji in that video and i think light brown rlly suits him and gives off the strongest boyfriend vibes

wc : 6.5k+

"in the heat of the summer. yeah, yeah, oh, you know that you should be my boy. oh yes, you know. in the heat of the summer, you're so different from the rest."

jongseob didn’t expect himself to be the type to develop a crush on a first meeting, or more like first glance. but here he was: purposely keeping his head down to not draw too much attention to himself as you walked by him. he was looking down at his phone, swiping in random directions, even looking at the weather app and pretending as if that were interesting. it was really pathetic how shy he became whenever you were near, but that’s just you made him react — so it really wasn’t his fault…

“you’re kim jongseob, right?”

he flinched at your voice, not expecting to hear it call his name out of nowhere. locking his phone, and hoping you didn’t see him stare at the weather for the week, he looked up at you and nodded his head. his mouth went dry and he cleared his throat as an effort to make sure his voice didn’t crack when he spoke to you.

“the teacher told me to find you and let you know i’ll be the one tutoring you for math,” you take the empty seat next to him, pulling out your phone and holding it out to him, “we should exchange contact information so we can talk about when to meet up and what works best for our schedules,”

okay, hold on. everything was moving wayyyy too fast and jongseob still hasn’t blinked once since you started talking to him. it was as if his consciousness left his body. he forced himself to blink and then finally opened his mouth to talk. but you had cut him off, by accident.

“sorry, my name is [name], it’s nice to meet you,”

instinctively, he had bowed his head down and you mimicked the action.

“nice to meet you, i’m jongseob,”

”i know,” a kind smile on your lips almost sent him into a hyperventilating state.

your first meeting with each other ended with him saving your contact in his phone and vice versa, then you departing soon after as you had to go to your own class. that day, shota was wondering why jongseob was so latched onto his phone and staring at it with a blank look on his face.

— in the beginning phases of his crush, jongseob acts really, really reserved and shy. it’s almost as if he doesn’t even want to associate with you with how standoffish he is, but it’s just because he’s eternally scared of embarrassing himself in front of you. in the beginning, he tried brushing off how serious his crush was, thinking it was going to be passing. but when he realized that every night before bed he’d think of you, he knew he was in too deep at that point. it makes him so frustrated that he lets his mind be so filled of you and only you, especially because before you were assigned as his tutor, you’d never even properly spoken to one another. but hopefully now that you two will be forced to talk to one another, jongseob’s skittish and introverted behavior could change a little more…hopefully.

the two of you were sitting in the library, snacks and drinks surrounding you as the two of you were staring at the textbook on the table.

“so, what do you think you struggle with the most?” you kindly asked, pulling out your notebook and pencils from your bag and preparing to start. jongseob blinked at the question, feeling himself blush as he thought of how he struggled with practically everything related to math.

“i think…just everything,” he says honestly, a bashful and embarrassed look on his face. you almost cooed at the cute expression, but stopped yourself.

you didn’t expect jongseob to be so cute. when you had seen him in person the first time, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he wasn’t at all attractive. he had soft features and a cute smile, which was enough to make you interested in him. but seeing his equally soft personality was enough to solidify that initial interest.

lucky you for having the teacher pair the two of you up.

“well, to be honest, i struggled a lot too when i was taking his class before,” you confessed honestly, hoping your words would comfort him a little, “but, it’s mainly the way he teaches it that makes it so confusing. so, i think, i can try re-explaining everything to you in a more simple way and hopefully it works that way? does that sound good to you?”

jongseob quickly nods, finding the tone and sound of your voice a comfort and especially persuasive. you could tell him to jump up on the table and do something incredibly embarrassing and he’d probably do it.

yeah, he was in too deep.

“then, let’s start! i’ll set an alarm for a break in twenty minutes?” he nods his head in understanding, feeling unreasonably determined to not let you and your efforts in teaching him go to waste. so he leans forward, mechanical pencil ready in hand and his notebook open to the first blank page.

as you’re explaining things to him, jongseob already feels as if he’s learning more from you in the first ten minutes than he did from his teacher the past couple of weeks. also, he feels himself growing more comfortable, which is a relief. because before he felt as if his cheeks were turning bright red anytime you looked at him, now it was just the tips of his ears (he hopes…). he was able to properly speak to you and make eye contact without completely stuttering through his sentences.

after the entire two hour session, you walked together to the bus stop. jongseob was only accompanying you since he could easily walk home, but he wasn’t about to make you wait alone. plus, he finally felt himself growing comfortable enough and he didn’t want to leave so soon (even if you had just spent the past two hours together).

“so, what do you like to do outside of school?” you ask, sipping your favorite boxed juice as you waited together.

“music,” he answers quickly, correcting himself soon after with, “i like listening to and writing music,”

you blinked in surprise, not taking him as the type and an impressed look was on your face, “wow, that’s really cool. i wish i had a talent like that. do you share your music on any platforms?” you pulled out your phone, as if you were ready for him to show you, but he shakes his head.

“no, just keep them on my computer…i don’t think i want them out, it’s kind of embarrassing,” he scratches the back of his head, cursing the red blush that was definitely rising up his neck.

”i don’t think it is,” you deny, pouting at his self-deprecation, “confidence is the key, jongseob!” you encourage, hitting his shoulder lightly, “if you ever feel comfortable enough, i’d love to hear it some day,”

he blinks at the offer, wondering how to respond to such an invitation. sharing his music with someone is something he deems really intimate, especially since it’s you — the boy he has a raging crush on. but he doesn’t have to think of his response much longer as your bus pulls up to the stop.

“it was nice getting to know you better, jongseob! i look forward to our next meeting,” you smile, bow your head to him, and then board your bus not looking back at him.

he watches the bus leave, his knees going wobbly as he collapses into a crouching position with his head in his hands.

“i’m screwed,” he mutters to himself, shooting up in a second’s notice and running his hand through his hair, “he’s so annoying, i’m really screwed,” he calls you annoying only because he knows that on his walk home and all the moments he spends without seeing you, he’ll just be thinking about you.

he’s in too deep, there’s no way he’ll ever recover from this crush.

— after the first couple of meetings, you and jongseob become much more acquainted than a simple “tutor” and “tutee.” you became close friends, so close that you met shota and now often sit with them during lunch breaks or in any free time. whenever there was an open period, you’d stop by jongseob’s classroom and take a seat next to him and fill the rest of your time together with little chats. shota teases him endlessly on how lovesick he has gotten over the past couple of weeks, but jongseob lets it slide — as long as you’re nowhere near to hear it. shota has known of jongseob’s crush on you for the longest time and deep down he’s genuinely happy for his friend that he was making some progress. before, he’d have to bear with watching jongseob longingly stare at you from afar, so seeing the state you and jongseob were in was incredibly comforting to know his best friend was making some sort of progress,

“jongseobie!” your excited voice makes him look up from his phone and instantly smile. the nickname you had coined for him after a couple of tutoring session makes his heart race so very fast. he loves how it sounds, how you comfortably call him, especially when it’s in that excited tone you just used a second ago. “guess what i got!”

“what?” he says in an instant, looking at you with curiosity as you come to a halt in front of him.

“you’re supposed to guess,” you tease, rolling your eyes at him. you step closer as you wait for his response, but after he stays silent as he tries thinking of what it could be, you could barely hold it in anymore. “i got us tickets to that show you wanted to see!”

from behind your back, you pull out two stubs of paper and jongseob feels his jaw drop. he had mentioned it to you in passing, when you were talking about the music you each liked, one of his favorite, lesser known, artists was going to be playing somewhat nearby. he planned on buying the tickets, but the fact you had remembered and done it yourself was enough to get blood rushing to his cheeks.

“you- how- are you serious?” he asks, looking at the paper tickets as if they were god send.

you nod with a proud smile, showing them off, “i got them as a gift because you’ve been doing really well lately — your teacher even pulled me aside earlier this week to compliment me for how well the lessons have been doing, but it’s really been all you. you’re really smart, and a quick learner, jongseob. so i wanted to appreciate your hard efforts with these!” he blushes at your compliment, too flustered to notice that you were also blushing at how obviously you were gassing him up.

“you bought two?” he asks, wondering if this was what he thought it was. maybe you took the initiative and…

“oh, if you wanted to bring a friend, maybe shota. i don’t think concerts are that fun to go to alone, so i wanted to make sure you could bring someone,” you explain, handing the tickets to him.

before he even stops to think, he’s pushing one back into your hands and saying, “come with me, i wanna go with you.” it sounds more definitive than inviting, but you don’t seem to mind as a wide grin stretches across your face.

“really? you want me to come?”

“of course, i really want you to come with me,” he says with utmost certainty, “the only reason i’m doing well is because of you, i want us to go together,”

you smile and accept the ticket, stepping forward to loop your arm with his, “what should we wear then? tell me, what’s the artist’s vibe,”

jongseob, trying not to hyperfocus on the close contact, replies with a shaky voice, “i’m sure you’d look cool in anything,” he compliments, “don’t think too much about it!”

“but i wanna fit in with the crowd! hey, recommend me some songs so i can understand them more,” you insist, making jongseob pull out his phone to scroll through his playlist. you watch eager, leaning against his shoulder and at his phone screen as he searches. he tries to ignore how close you are and hopes you don’t see the way his hand shakes from the nerves.

what he doesn’t know is that you’re also sneaking looks at him with a smile on your face, basking in the affection you had managed to steal from him. it was flattering to know that jongseob wanted you to come as his “plus one”, but you tried not thinking too deep into it…trying to stop yourself from thinking it was anything like a date. because it wasn’t.

even if you both wished it was.

“here, i’ll send you my playlist,” he says, showing you his spotify on the screen and waiting for your approval. when you hum in response, he copies the link and goes to your messages.

“wait, what’s my contact name on your phone? have you changed it since i put it in?” you ask curiously, seeing something added to the end of your name, like an emoji, that definitely wasn’t there before.

jongseob blinks in stupor before realizing what you were referring to. he hurriedly locks his phone and turns it face down to hide it from you, laughing to play it off.

“what? why? why? what’s my name on your phone?” you tease, trying to reach for it, despite not knowing if he had a passcode or not.

“it’s nothing, it’s nothing,” he says, trying to distract you from that topic of conversation and goes back to the artist you two were going to see, “just make sure you listen to the playlist-”

“but i want to know what my contact is on your phone!” you cut him, laughing as you begin play fighting for the device.

“well, your bus is here so you won’t get to know, sorry,” he says, unfortunately speaking the truth as the familiar bus pulled up to the curb.

“i won’t forget this, jongseobie,” you say in a mock threatening voice, squinting your eyes at him, “you’re gonna show me it tomorrow!!”

“bye, bye, [name]!” he calls out, happily waving to you as the bus takes off in the opposite direction of the school.

he looks down at his phone and unlocking it to show the link of his spotify playlist that was sitting in the textbox, waiting to be sent. he looks up at the top of his screen, smiling softly at the contact name and photo he had saved for you. it was a selfie you had taken on his phone during one of your recent study sessions, showing an incredibly tired 0.5 angle of you, with his head resting on the table being seen in the background. when he was scrolling through his camera roll, he had seen it and immediately made it your profile picture. it was cute to imagine you sneakily taking his phone while he was dozed off, snapping the picture, then setting it back to its original spot.

the words underneath your photo reading as “handsome tutor 𖹭.”

jongseob would have collapsed in embarrassment if you had seen that. he sighed, hit send on the text, and locked his phone to put away in his pocket. he walked home with a smile on his face, thinking about you and the concert you two were going to together.

—

“so it’s a date?” shota asks him, chilling in his seat as jongseob explains to him everything that had went down.

“it’s not a date, shh,” jongseob says, putting his finger to his lips and glaring at shota for saying such a thing so loud.

“it sounds like a date, jongseob,” shota deadpans, not looking impressed, “you two need to get it together, the tension between you two is so suffocating,” the man shivers as if to physically show how unbearable the “tension” was, but jongseob doesn’t pay that any mind.

“it’s not a date because if it were, he would’ve said it was, but it’s not because he didn’t say that,” jongseob quickly explains, wanting to put that discussion to rest.

“okay, then it isn’t a date,” shota forfeits, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics.

“yeah, it isn’t…” the man confirms once more, “besides, i don’t even know if he even likes men — have we ever thought about that? he probably just thinks we are good friends, which i can settle for and is the most realistic thing, but still i wish i knew for sure! it kind of sucks not knowing if i even had a chance, y’know?”

“had a chance with who?”

jongseob freezes and shota sputters out a suffocated laugh at the timing.

you were standing right behind him and he didn’t know for how long you were, but he does wish that the ground would swallow him up whole right now.

“earth to jongseobie? hello?” you wave your hand in front of his frozen face, laughing slightly at his expression, “what’s up with him, shota?”

“i don’t know, he’s a weird guy,” the man answers with a shrug, making you laugh at the irony before taking a seat next to him.

“well, anyway! i listened to the playlist you sent me, let me show you some outfit ideas i have for us,”

“us?” jongseob echoes, wondering if he heard right.

”yeah, if we’re going together we might as well should match, right?”

shota looks at the two of you, completely worn out from how oblivious jongseob was and how shamelessly forward you were (whether you were aware of it or not was unknown to shota).

“right, right,” jongseob agrees, leaning in towards you and your phone screen.

“i think you have good style to begin with, so i tried finding something that would suit it. you’re handsome anyway, so anything you wear you’ll be able to pull off,” you ruffle his hair as you compliment him, successfully making him go red in the face.

shota once again wishes his best friend would open his eyes and end this tantalizing process already, hoping you two would just date already.

—

it was the night of the show and you and jongseob agreed to meet at a halfway point. the venue was a little far away, but nothing a pair of headphone and the bus couldn’t handle. you were currently binge listening to the playlist jongseob had sent you — you had been since he’s sent it to you — and were happily humming along to the song playing. if it weren’t for jongseob, you probably would’ve never discovered this artist, who actually suited your tastes a lot.

at the designated stop, you kept an eye out for him, grinning immediately when you locked eyes with him. his usually straight hair was done to be slightly wavy and that subtle change made your eyes falter and heart skip a couple beats. he really was so handsome. his eyes were wide, looking for you and when he finally caught sight of you, an excited smile broke out onto his face and it was so wide his eyes turned into crescents.

he walked over to you, taking the seat beside you and tried to control his excitement.

”how are you?” he asked first, trying to not stare too hard at your outfit and how good you looked. he was slightly envious, how you looked so good in everything you wore and how you naturally pulled off everything you wore. he also took note of how you both were wearing the same color-toned clothes, subtly matching. that only made him smile even wider.

“i’m excited, how about you?” you’re quick to throw the question back at him, smiling so wide it’s infectious.

“i’m really excited, i’m really happy we’re going together,” he says, nodding his head several times as he takes in this reality. if anyone had told him a couple months that he was going to one of his favorite artist’s concert with you of all people, he would’ve laughed in their face. this was all almost completely unbelievable.

“you brought your camera?” you said, motioning to the film camera that was strapped around his body.

“oh, yeah,” he takes it up into his hands, bringing the viewfinder up to his eyes and quickly snapping a photo of you. obviously, after the act was already done, you began complaining about how you weren’t ready.

“retake it, retake it,” you egged on, pushing him slightly back so it wasn’t so close to your face. he obeyed, leaning backwards and bringing his camera back up to his eye.

you smiled, holding the ticket up to your face and proudly showing it off. he smiled softly at how genuinely excited you looked, bringing the camera down from his face after he got the shot.

“your turn,” you say, gently taking the camera from his hands and bringing it up to your eye. “wait, how does this work?”

he chuckles at your question, moving close to show you how it works, nimble fingers pointing at the different parts of the camera, “here, scroll it to the right,” he says, watching you carefully, “and then when it stops, you can take the picture. just press this one,”

you get the gist, afterwards, looking up from the components of the camera and locking eyes with jongseob. you both didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up, making time freeze for a moment as you just sat there and stared at each other.

his brown bangs were slightly covering his eyes, but you were still able to see him so clearly. he really was so breathtaking…

“ready?” you asked after a couple seconds of silence, making him clear his throat and nod.

you pressed your back against the window of the bus as he leaned a little into the aisle so that he was properly spaced out in the shot. he held up his own ticket, pursuing his lips as he slightly smiled at the camera. the corners of your lips quirked up at his cute expression, taking the picture swiftly.

“it sucks we don’t see them right away though,” you comment, handing the film camera back to him.

“we can still take pictures on our phones,” he comforts, pulling out his own and immediately holding it up for a selfie. smiling at the opportunity, you lean close to his person, practically cuddled up to his side.

and even after reaching levels of comfortability with you that he thought was impossible, being physically close to you still flustered him. he liked it though, obviously. he liked you, so any affection you showed him was welcome in his eyes. which is exactly why he didn’t push you away or shift his torso from you. instead he leaned into your side as well, positioning the camera at multiple different angles for you two.

then you took out your own phone, taking pictures for your own camera roll. the last one you took was a silly 0.5 one that the both of you laughed at after seeing the finished product.

“these are cute,” you comment, scrolling through your own, “send me the ones on your phone!”

“okay, okay,” he complies, going to share them straight from his camera roll and sending them to you a couple seconds later. he doesn’t realize it, but his screen is clearly visible to you, meaning you were finally able to see what the contact name he had for you was.

you blushed heavily seeing it, forcing your head to look away to not be caught, trying to force the smile on your face down. instead, you took a comfortable resting spot on his shoulder, feeling a surge of confidence in your actions due to the revealed contact name.

jongseob’s shoulder stiffened at the bold action, but he tried to calm himself down to not ruin the moment. he looked anywhere else but you, not wanting to be caught blushing a deep red if you were to look at him. he didn’t realize you snuck one more photo in, smiling like a fool at your camera as your head rested on his shoulder.

after about a thirty minute bus ride, you finally were at the stop closest to the venue. you pulled the wired headphones from your ear, jongseob passing you the other pair, and both of you hopped off of the bus to walk to the venue.

you both weren’t particularly keen on getting there super early to be close, so the line wasn’t as long as you thought it would’ve been.

“wait, go ahead,” he says, motioning for you to keep walking without him. and you were going to question why, but then saw that he had his camera in his hand and wanted a shot of you walking to the venue, which had the name of the artist plastered in shining lights above the main entrance way.

he joined you in a couple of seconds, jogging up to your side and excitedly walking up to security to be let in.

you and jongseob were near the back of the pit, but since it was a small place, the view you had of the stage wasn’t that bad.

“this is so cool,” you say, stars in your eyes as you take in the environment. jongseob hums beside you, making sure to stick close to you to not lose you in the crowd. his arm hung loosely off of your shoulder, which made you more inclined to slot yourself into his side.

maybe it was the darker atmosphere and the fact you were in a bigger crowd now, where it was easy to hide away, but the both of you had gotten a boost of confidence in lingering touches.

jongseob didn’t think twice in holding you close to him and you weren’t as secretive in stealing glances his way. he didn’t feel as flustered and embarrassed as he usually did, which made him not think twice in committing to being affectionate with you.

he wishes he was like this all the time. capable of holding eye contact with you without looking away after the first five seconds. capable of looking at your eyes then your lips without feeling himself go red in the face immediately. a couple months deep into this crush of his and sometimes he was still acting like he hasn’t been seeing you everyday, as if he was still just admiring you from afar.

meanwhile, you were loving every second of this. seeing jongseob not hesitate in keeping you close and stare at you, it was infectious.

before you knew it, the main act had came onto the stage and now all of your attention was on them. jongseob’s arm left your shoulder to take a couple of pictures with both his phone and film camera, but he still made sure to be close.

the two of you were singing to your hearts’ content, sometimes breaking out into laughter at how horrid your voices sounded. but you were smiling and laughing together and that was all that mattered. the show went on faster than you both had realized and the singer was now announcing that it would be their final song of the night.

when the first chords played throughout the venue, you instinctively held onto jongseob’s hand and squeezed tight because it was the song you were hoping they were going to play. excitedly you looked at him to see his reaction, wondering if he was waiting for this song as well, but when you turned to him, he was already looking at you.

and you were happy you didn’t have the strength to look away because staring into his eyes as the song played in the background felt as if you were in the middle of a romance movie scene. one of those god awful cheesy scenes where the two love interests have the camera spin around them as they slowly lean in to kiss each other, or some other form of major affection. you almost laughed out loud at the idea of that being you and jongseob. not because it was actually humorous, but because it was so outlandish.

there was no way jongseob liked you back like you liked him.

that contact name on his phone was probably just a coincidence…

you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look away from his dark eyes, that were pleadingly looking at you, begging for you to do something. the moment your head turned in the other direction, though, jongseob felt a wave of frustration and immense emotion crash down on him.

it wasn’t fair. he wants to kiss you, tell you how badly he’s fallen in love with you. he doesn’t want to keep sneaking glances at you when all he wants to do is stare at you all day long. and with the way the lights are reflecting on you, the fucking song playing in the background, there’s no reasonable way for jongseob to hold himself back.

he’s so frustrated at himself for harboring such strong emotions for you, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

so he finally grows the courage to reach out and gently cup your face and force you to look back at him. he doesn’t give himself, or you, a second to properly react as he leans forward and smashes his lips against yours. it’s dramatic, desperate, and borderline aggressive, but it’s what he’s feeling — all those times he’s had to hold himself back from making you his. it was all released in this one kiss.

it took a couple of seconds to realize what was happening. and when you did, you could feel him beginning to pull away. squeezing your eyes shut to really bask in the moment, you brought your hand up to the back of his neck and held him in place, finally kissing him back.

the hand that was once resting on your cheek had now fallen to your waist, bringing you in closer to his person. his fingers were squeezing you so tight, as if he were afraid you’d slip away if his grip loosened even the tiniest bit. you were moving in sync with one another, hungry for that affection you were both restraining from each other before. your arms looped around his neck and you could feel him smile into the kiss at the action. it was infectious because now you were two smiling, kissing fools.

after pulling away, the world around you both was so fuzzy, the song playing being the only thing that you could sense as loud and clear. the both of you were panting from such an intense kiss. his arms were wrapped around your lower half while yours lazily hung off of his shoulders.

“[name], i really, really like you,” he says breathless, “even before you spoke to me, i liked you,” it was shocking to learn how long he had been harboring this crush on you, but you didn’t stop him from going on, “i’ve wanted to kiss you like that for so long,”

a weak bout of laughter was shared between you two and jongseob had to force himself to continue on, “please, give me a chance and be my boyfriend, please,”

you played with the hair at the base of his neck, making him shiver at the sensation while you grinned at him.

“you don’t need to beg for it. i’m already yours, jongseob,” you crash into his chest and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief, holding you tight. the two of you stand like that, rocking back and forth and just taking in the final song — that was now apart of one of your fondest memories.

after it was finished, you both pulled away and shared one more long kiss. it wasn’t as desperate as the first, but you could still feel that longing from him as he eagerly deepened it. the only reason why you two had to pull away was because the rest of the crowd was beginning to move and since you were in the back of the pit, you would’ve been in everyone’s way.

jongseob tightly held your hand as he guided you through the crowd, smiling so wide that his cheeks were hurting. the same could be said for you, too, as you followed him wherever he took you. waiting at the same bus stop wasn’t long and the entire time, you were just staring at each other with permanent smiles on each of your faces.

your hands were still intertwined, even as you sat on the bus.

“so wait, you knew who i was already, and liked me, before i even introduced myself to you?” you asked, grinning on his shoulder as you finally had the quiet environment to ask him about all the details. he blushed at the sudden question, using one hand to hide the bottom of his face.

“do we really have to go through this right now?” he asked, feeling incredibly shy at how close your face was to his (as if you weren’t sucking face a couple minutes ago), especially with that mischievous look in your eyes.

“no, we don’t have to, i just want to hear you talk about it.”

“so, you just want to have your ego boosted?” he teased, playing with your fingers as he smiled in amusement. you clasped your hand around his, chuckling and just resting your head on his shoulder. he leaned on the top of your head, wondering how things worked out so well.

it felt like something out of his dreams.

the man of his dreams was nestled into his side after seeing one of his favorite singers. kissing him during one of his favorite songs, finally making him his boyfriend. jongseob couldn’t help but stare out the window with the widest smile on his face.

taking in his surroundings, he cautiously reached for his film camera on his side. he could tell that halfway through your trip back you had fallen asleep so he wanted to be sure not to wake you as he took the photo. it was cheesy, but he wanted to have something to immortalize this night and the memory of it. he’d never forget it, he knew that for sure, but he wanted a physical token of what has happened and the deep meaning of tonight.

after taking pictures to his heart’s content, he simply leaned his head against yours and waited until you both arrived to your bus stop.

— a couple weeks later

“what do you have there?” you ask, rolling over in bed to look over jongseob’s shoulder.

there was no one home at the moment, so you were being as freely affectionate as you wanted. it had been a couple of weeks since the night of the concert and it has been nothing but perfect since. not only were the two of you finally out of school, making it officially summer (jongseob had passed his math final with flying colors, not to your surprise since he really was so smart).

the window was open, letting in the occasional breeze to cool you two off. but the both of you were laying in your bed, shirtless as you tried basking in as much cold air as possible. jongseob had told you he had something to surprise you with, digging through his bag with his back turned to you.

“i made sure to ask for two copies of each one,” he said, pulling out a thick envelope. your arms were wrapped around his waist, resting flat on his bare stomach and softly stroking up and down. he looked at you with a smile, presenting what was inside with an expectant look on his face.

when you finally realized what it was, you detached yourself from his back in a moment’s notice and took the papers into your hands.

“oh my god, jongseobie,” you gasped, taking in all of the photos your boyfriend had captured on his film camera and looking through them in pure excitement, “wait, i didn’t know you took a picture then,” it was the one of when you were sleeping on his shoulder. you smiled at the memory, fondly looking at your boyfriend and leaning in for a quick peck.

“you’re too handsome i had to,” he compliments, knocking his forehead against yours before pulling away.

“thank you, baby, but so are you — i mean, c’mon, look at you,” you squeeze his cheeks quickly while looking through the rest of the photos of the night. the memories were still vivid in your mind, “i like this one a lot,”

it was before you arrived at the venue, when you were riding the bus there. looking at it on a physical copy now, it was so obvious how deep your affections for each other were. jongseob leaning into your body that was unexplainably close to his, a blush on both of your cheeks, as well as wide grins.

“i love you,” he says quietly, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder several times over before resting his cheek against your warm flesh. you smile at the affection, turning back to face him properly.

it slips off of your tongue so fluently at this point, an easy, “i love you too,” directed to him and only him. and now you’re both smiling at each other like idiots.

— jongseob, who has a crush on you for the longest time and doesn’t know how to act on it. the type to ignore it at first, in hopes of it just dying down so he doesn’t have to worry about it since he already has so much on his plate. but once he realizes he’s in too deep, thinking about you in every passing second, he doesn’t fight against his feelings any longer. he’s content just being aware of them, not seeking for more in fear of rejection or ridicule. but once he knows it’s safe for him to show just how deep his adoration and love for you is, he’ll be as unrestricted as possible in showcasing it to you — eager to show you what he had been withholding.

"in the heat of the summer, you're so different from the rest. you know, you know, you know, oh oh. you know that you should be my boy, oh, yes, you know, oh yes, you know"

[lemoncrushh]

Fratboy Harry - Part 7

Summary: Harry Styles was a boy with a reputation, one that you couldn’t care less about. Yet one night at a frat party changed everything.

Warnings: Smut, drinking, angst, a very cocky Harry. 18+ ONLY!!

Part 7 Word Count: 2323

STORY PAGE

I'm sorry.

I swear, she's not my girlfriend.

If you'd answer my calls I could try to explain.

Will you please talk to me?

These texts and more filled your phone all evening, but you left them unacknowledged. He'd tried calling you several times as well, but you never answered. Finally, as you laid in bed, your mind wandering though you were trying your best to read your English chapter, Harry sent one more text.

Fine. I know you're mad. Maybe you just need some time to cool off. I'll leave you alone. Call me when you wanna talk.

The next morning you managed to make it to class despite a restless night. You'd probably gotten a total of three hours' sleep, and you prayed to God you wouldn't be quizzed on that English chapter because you had no idea what you'd read.

You didn't know why you'd let this boy get to you, but somehow he had. Hell, you didn't even like him at first. Now not only was he invading your mind, but you'd allowed him yourself you get angry and hurt over something that had nothing to do with you. Something that shouldn't have surprised you and you should have seen coming. Dammit.

Coming out of the English building after stopping to talk to your professor, you were zipping up your backpack so you didn't see him at first. Lifting your head, you spotted him on the sidewalk, a small group of people gathered around him. Pulling your backpack over your shoulder, you walked briskly, trying to get past him before he saw you.

"Y/N!" he called.

Shit.

You walked faster, your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead of you. Hearing puffs of breath as he jogged to catch up you, you rolled your eyes. He called your name again, pleading you to wait. You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him.

"Hey," he said. "Didn't you hear me?"

"I did," you narrowed your eyes.

His shoulders dropped in disappointment. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I don't feel like talking," you remarked.

"Will you at least hear me out?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Fine. I'm listening. But you have about two minutes because I have to get to my next class."

Harry stepped closer to you, lifting his hands like he was about to touch you but changed his mind.

"She's not my girlfriend, okay?"

"You've said that."

"She has a thing for me," he added as though that just cleared everything up.

"Apparently," you raised your brows.

His eyes shifted away from you as he tried to think of the next thing to say. Biting his lip, he looked back at you.

"We slept together once," he muttered. "It meant more to her than it did to me."

You glared at him in disgust. Was this guy for real? If it wasn't for the curiosity taking over, making you want to hear the whole story, you would have stomped off.

"I know that's an awful thing to say," he admitted. "And I don't mean it like it sounds. I wasn't a jerk to her afterwards, I know that's what you're thinking."

"Don't tell me what I'm thinking," you scoffed. "You have no fucking clue what I'm thinking."

"Fine, fine!" he held up his hands. "I'm just trying to explain."

You pursed your lips. "Go on."

Harry sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "She kept calling me and texting me. She was a sweet girl, so I didn't wanna hurt her. But I could tell she wanted more than I did. She started showing up to all the parties, following me around. Anything I was doing, she'd ask if she could come along. She found out where I lived and somehow got the impression that we were a couple."

You stared at him incredulously as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I still don't really know how it happened. She got it into her head that she's in love with me and that we belong together. I felt bad at first and tried my best to let her down easy. I told her we could be friends."

"Oh yeah, that's what every girl wants to hear," you rolled your eyes.

"I didn't wanna be an asshole!" he exclaimed. "I know you think I'm one, but I'm not."

You opened your mouth to retort but he held up his hand. "I know, don't tell you what you're thinking."

You sighed and uncrossed your arms, gripping your backpack.

"So what, she's stalking you now?" you inquired.

"Sort of, I guess. She won't stop calling or texting me, even after I've had to be harsh with her. She shows up at my door unexpected. After you left yesterday? She came by again. She actually said she forgives me and that we can work it out."

"Eesh," you sounded. You weren't sure who you felt more sorry for, him or her.

"You asked why I don't just block her number. I tried that. That was when she starting coming over. I'm trying to keep tabs just in case I do have to call the police. I'm being a jerk to her now so hopefully she'll listen and finally give up."

You sucked in your lips, allowing his words to sink in. You wanted to believe him. But what if he was just making it up? You stared down at your watch and cleared your throat.

"Your two minutes are up," you muttered.

Harry swallowed. "Listen, you probably don't believe me, but I just wanted to explain."

"Fair enough," you nodded. You gestured toward the sidewalk. "I gotta go."

Turning away, you heard him say your name again. You sighed, looking back at him. He stepped closer to your again, reaching for your hand. You surprised yourself by allowing him to do so, staring down at it as he threaded his fingers through yours.

"You might not believe this either," he murmured. "But I wasn't lying when I said I liked you. And you definitely do something to me."

You blinked, raising your head to look him in the eye. You felt him lean forward and you almost thought he was going to kiss you.

"Really do have to go," you whispered, pulling away from his grip.

You didn't look back as you hurried toward your next class, for which you were certainly already late. Your heart pumped in your chest with anxiety. You heard someone else call his name followed by a hearty group laughter.

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to so badly. But you couldn't get the poor girl's face and sound of her cries out of your head. And as you sat down at your desk, that's when it dawned on you.

That could have easily been you.

Three days later you and Mandy sat at the kitchen table, you with your nose in your Algebra book, Mandy on her laptop. You'd clued her in on everything that had gone down with Harry, though she still wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You know, there are some crazy stalker girls out there," she commented.

You lifted your head, dropping your pencil. "Are we still talking about this?"

"I'm just saying," she peeked over her computer. "I mean, he is a popular guy. He probably has girls chasing him left and right. She might have gotten caught up in his charm and turned all psycho on him."

"Or maybe he was just giving me a load of crap so I wouldn't think he's a cocky asshole," you stated.

You heard Mandy click her tongue. "I don't think so..." she sang.

You rolled your eyes, resolving to ignore her so you could finish your math homework. The truth was...you didn't know what the truth was. You had so many conflicting thoughts and emotions it was driving you mad. And the fact that Harry hadn't bothered to get in touch with you since you'd run into him on Monday, just added fuel to the fire. Granted, you hadn't called or texted him either. But something told you it wouldn't make any difference. You'd still be just as confused.

When Friday came and went and you still hadn't heard a peep out of Harry, you'd decided you'd given up. You were just some other girl to him, another lay. Whatever, so be it.

You told Mandy you'd go to the party with her Saturday night, but that you weren't going to stay long. If she wanted, she could get a ride home with someone else, or she could call you later when she was ready to leave and you'd come get her.

"But it might be super late," she whined. "You'll be asleep."

"No I won't," you declared. "I haven't slept in days."

As soon as you walked into the house, you knew he was there. You couldn't see him, but you knew. Mandy made a beeline for the kitchen, saying she was ready to get drunk. You followed her until you reached the doorway. You heard someone say his name followed by a cheer. Frozen in your spot, you listened for his accent, but when it didn't come, you changed direction and headed for the nearby beer keg.

A pleasant looking guy in a University t-shirt was standing beside it, pumping for a handful of people. He smiled at you before handing you a red Solo cup.

"Thanks," you grinned before bringing it to your lips. You gazed at him over the rim of the cup as he gave you the once over and then winked.

Mandy nearly scared you when she came around the corner and grabbed your arm.

"He's here," she whispered loudly.

"I know," you remarked.

"He's just with some buddies though," she added. "I don't think that Jamie girl is here."

You shrugged. "So what if she is."

"Have to say..." she paused, bringing her cup to her mouth. "I think it's kinda shitty that he shows up here without calling you first."

"Mandy," you turned to face her, "what did you expect?"

She gave you a look of disappointment and sympathy, her mouth scrunched up to the side of her face.

You stayed for a little over an hour, the one beer the only drink you consumed. You were bored. And trying to avoid running into Harry was not your idea of fun. You found Mandy chatting with the cute keg guy, announcing that you were leaving. She pouted but told you she'd most likely get a ride home.

Just as you were heading for the door, you caught sight of a blonde girl, her eyes wide like she was scanning the room for someone.

Jamie.

Curious, you stood still as you watched her make her way to the kitchen. You followed her, only stopping in the doorway. You saw Harry leaning against the counter, a cup to his mouth. You didn't miss the fact that he raised his eyebrows the second Jamie walked in. But you weren't exactly sure if it was because he was happy to see her, or just an acknowledgement. When she walked up to him, however, you noticed he didn't say a word to her. Instead, he turned to his friend next to him and began chatting.

Okay, so maybe he was ignoring her. But it was also very strange to you that he didn't make any move to tell her to leave him alone. Jamie reached for a cup then, filling it with ice to make her own drink. Then she returned to Harry's side, brushing her fingers up his hand that rested on the counter. He didn't even flinch. Deciding you'd seen enough, you turned on your heels and exited.

That evening you'd just finished brushing your teeth and were getting ready for bed when a new text popped up.

So are you gonna continue to avoid me?

You sighed as you began to text him back. He must have known you were at the party.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about this silent treatment. You can't tell me you're enjoying it.

There you go again, assuming you know what I think.

Then tell me.

Tell you what?

What you think.

You paused for a moment, gathering the words in your head before typing them out.

I think you're an asshole. But not because of the reasons you think I do. I think you're a phony. You want people to like you, but you also want them to fear you. You want them to think you're a cocky asshole but you're really not. I think you slept with some girl who really liked you knowing you didn't really like her, just because it fit your persona. I'm not sure if she's stalking you or what, but I think you get off on it because it makes you look like a big shot.

You saw the three dots indicating Harry was typing, but you were surprised when all he replied was one word.

Wow.

You decided to continue typing, feeling liberated that you were finally getting your feelings out.

To be honest, Harry, I don't know exactly where I fit in to all of this. You say you like me, but I don't know what to believe. Maybe you do, or maybe it's again just something you feel like you have to do because it's who you want people to think you are. Like I'm some conquest or a notch in your belt. You have a reputation to uphold. But I do know one thing. I hardly even know you. And I'm not going to waste my time worrying and wondering about some fratboy who may or may not have some other girl in the wings.

I told you I'm not in a fraternity.

You laughed out loud, but not out of humor. He was unbelievable.

Goodbye, Harry.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[kiandrathepeahenangel]

(not a Cardiophile post, sorry 😞)

I really want to share my experience with my first lover

Well call him T to shorten it

You've probably heard a little about things he had done to me (posts against me, faking his death for my attention ecc.)

The thing is, I realized how toxic and bad he was just now

I was MADLY in love with him

Like seriously, I wrote his name everywhere (even on the walls lol)

At about 1/2 months into our relationship, he revealed to me that he had cheated on me, that he flirted with another girl

I forgave him (honestly I should have left him there)

Then, on discord calls, he would make fun of me, with his friend. It wasn't nice

I often cried because of that

And actually felt sad when he joined a call sometimes

Once, I told my friend Francesco that he made fun of me, I don't remember what he told me, but once, me, him, my ex, and his friend were in a call, and he kept making fun of me as I was playing Ark.

At one point me and Francesco left the call and went to talk privately, and I cried, oh boy did I cry

Poor Francesco, I kept faking that I disliked him so I could make my ex and his friends like me more, and it hurt

During our relationship, there was this girl, I'll call her D

He was attached to her like a magnet

He didn't leave her side, he actually started talking to her instead of me.

He actually made a roleplay in which he was his girlfriend

While still in a relationship with me

I mean, I got mad at him, and he actually was able to make me think I was the problem and not him

The thing I realized most recently is how messed up he is

We both revealed to each other our fetishes, you all know my fetish

He has a fetish for obese people

I think you understand what I'm talking about

And, I didn't say anything, because I don't feel like I'm In a position to judge a person by their fetishes

The thing is that he wanted me to get fatter

He was telling me to do exercises to make my butt bigger for him

He was telling me to change my whole body for him

He made me take pictures with pillows under my shirt to make me seem fatter

And in exchange, I asked him for heartbeat recordings

NOT EVEN ONCE did I force him to do exercises. NEVER.

I once asked him to hold his breath, though

Still

Now, after we broke up, he went insane

He insulted me several times (called me a whore)

Then, he exposed my messages about my friends to those friends (they all insulted me) and made them turn against me

Yeah, they said sorry...but you can't insult a person for being themselves and then be like "I'm sorry"

Then, he made public posts about me (told private stuff, exposed to everyone I was bisexual like it was a bad thing, and put me in a bad light)

He kept finding ways to talk to me, he even expected me to put him in my comics, series ecc. And when I told him I'm not comfortable with that, he insulted me yet again and accused me of trying to separate him from his friends

He always found a way to fucking talk to me, even if I didn't want to

And now, he faked being hacked and his own death for my attention to see if I still cared about him.

That's the last straw.

If he tries to talk to me again, I'll fucking take legal action, I'm sorry, I can't stand this anymore

The best thing is that while in a relationship with me, he never watched my YouTube videos, or posts

After I left him, he now watches everything, and even reacted to my video once

He says he still loves me, as if I would come back to him

He is a psychopath. I don't think otherwise.

Tell me what you think, and thank you for taking your time to read this💓

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

avatar 3 theories?

WHAT A QUESTION.

I've let this marinate because I wanted to answer it seriously and I wanted to be right, I love being right.

-Discussion between Payakan and Lo'ak about Neteyam's death and guilt. Especially because of the name of the movie we've seen, I think this relationship is gonna be important. Neteyam is gonna haunt the fuck outta him this movie.

-Spider Sully struggles, like Jake claimed him but I think there's gonna be issues around that.

-Kiri will connect to the spirit tree again and meet with Grace again, I'm gonna guess it's without parental knowledge. More Eywa magic knowledge.

-I think there's gonna be a lot of work done with Tonowari and Jake trying to gather clans and fight. I'm on the fence about this but I think Ronal is gonna be all for it, especially after losing Roa.

-This one is general but I do think things are only gonna get worse for the squad. James Cameron and Jack Champion both said some spooky things about the ending of the third movie. Idk what the fuck else Neytiri can loose but I'm sure it'll somehow be worse for our girl. If I had to guess, I think the Quaritch being alive revelation won't occur until the end of the movie. I can see it being a big event and we are left with the fallout until the next movie.

I don't want to speculate too much because we have like NO information yet, but just from plot threads so far this is what I think.