#i texted alex like “hey this is such a weird feature” and APPARENTLY THAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN

[sentientsky]

if you ever feel like you're shit at video games, please know that i was taking so long investigating a dirt pile, that lae'zel came over, yoinked a key out of my pocket and went into the next room herself. at one point, my entire party got up and left WITHOUT ME PROMPTING THEM TO DO SO

anyway. moral of the story. be so bad at video games that your bg3 companions become autonomous. #slay

[writethelifeyouwant]

Femme Fatale - Ch 1 / 2

Pairing: Alex x Reader (background J2) Rating: 18+ Tags: Dom/Sub relationships, Sub!Alex, Domme!Reader, Dom!Jensen, Sub!Jared, sex/bdsm club, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pegging, humiliation kink Word Count: 3.3k Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Dom/Sub

A/N: Thank you so much for being my first ever commission Sin! I've had a lot of fun tackling this challenge because I've never written a Domme!reader before but I really appreciate you trusting me with your idea, and I hope I do it justice ❤️

Series Masterlist

This is a weird idea, even for Alex. A night out with his cast mates isn’t unusual, and Y/N has gone along on plenty of group dinners with Alex, Jared and Jensen (that were essentially double dates) before, but they usually ended by closing out the hotel bar or crashing in someone’s guest room. They had never ended up at a proper club before, let alone planned a whole evening around going to a specific one. But that’s the plan tonight.

When Alex informs her that the location was Misha’s suggestion, it makes even less sense to Y/N. Misha seems like he would be the least likely of all of them to actually enjoy clubbing but hey, what does she know?

“Alex, I don’t have anything to wear!” Y/N complains from inside their closet, hoping her boyfriend can hear her through the bathroom door.

“That cannot be true,” she can hear the amusement coupled with a light mix of exasperation in his tone.

“What did they tell you the dress code was?” Y/N calls as she continues to flip through the clothes hanging in front of her.

“Misha said, and I quote, ‘dress slutty’.” Alex appears in the doorway to the closet and leans against the frame, tucking his arms across his chest. Y/N actually does a double take when she sees him.

“I see you took that advice literally,” she eyes him, gaze dragging across his body and catching against each new feature she notices like sandpaper running against the grain. Alex is dressed casually, but most definitely sluttily too. A loose and frayed wife beater hangs off his shoulders, showing off his waist where one side is tucked into his shorts. The elastic of his boxers is sticking out over the shirt too, which is completely on purpose in a move to tease. The denim shorts are tight, torn-up, and just to the knee. Y/N has seen him wear them before, and she knows when he turns around she’ll have an amazing view of his ass.

“I’m good at following instructions,” Alex smiles, clearly pleased with himself that he’d successfully fulfilled his remit.

“So eager to please,” Y/N teases over her shoulder as she goes back to thumbing through outfit potentials. “Honestly, the fact that Misha is telling us to dress slutty and not Jared must mean dress really slutty.”

“You could just not wear anything,” Alex offers as a suggestion. “Nothing sluttier than free access.”

“In your dreams, babe.”

“How did you know?” Alex is mock horrified and you laugh along with him when he breaks character. “Still can’t decide?” and Y/N shakes her head in response. “Can I pick for you? I do have a pretty good memory of all your sluttiest outfits.”

“Hey! Who you callin’ a slut Mr. Slutty McTightShorts?” Y/N rounds on Alex, comically enraged.

“You, duh,” Alex laughs and pecks her on the cheek as he moves over to a drawer where Y/N keeps her underwear.

Alex goes straight for the lingerie, Y/N should have guessed, and he pulls out a matching set of lacy thong and longline bra, both enmeshed in patterns of criss-crossed elastic and ribbons. Then he ducks down to the bottom drawer where Y/N keeps a load of her old college clothes that she’s too sentimental to get rid of, and rummages through it, clearly looking for something specific. He finally liberates a skirt that barely has the right to be called a piece of clothing. Y/N can’t even remember why she owns that. Finally he reaches for a swingy tank made of a light gauzy material. It’s really meant to be a cover-up for the beach because of how loose and flowy it is but Y/N imagines that is Alex’s intention behind picking it – he knows it won’t stay on properly or do a single thing to hide the bra she’ll be wearing beneath it. Alex hands her the pile of clothes, again looking very pleased with himself.

“You’re really not pulling punches tonight, are ya?”

“I just want to show off how awesome my girlfriend is,” Alex shrugs.

“Yeah, you want to show off all of her, apparently,” Y/N holds up the small skirt skeptically.

“You’ll look incredible, scouts’ honour,” Alex swears, grinning.

“If we show up and the others aren’t dressed super slutty, I’m gonna maim things.”

“I won’t stop you,” Alex laughs and pushes Y/N out of the closet. “C’mon get dressed so we can go down some alcohol before the car gets here.”

They’ve both knocked back a beer and a shot when the car pulls up and a message pops into the group chat saying they’re here. The night is close and warm outside of the air conditioning, and for that reason at least Y/N is glad to be wearing such a small amount of clothing. When the young couple slides into the car they’re greeted by Jared, Jensen, Misha, and his wife Vicki – another surprise to Y/N, as she doesn’t come out with them too often. Something about tonight must be special.

“Hey hot stuff!” Jared greets them, grinning as he eyes them both up and down. Jensen pinches him on the leg. “Behave.” Jared doesn’t let it derail his examination.

“Thanks, I know, right?” Alex jokes and ruffles his hair, throwing Jared a wink. Y/N gives him a side eye, silently imitating Jensen’s instruction of behave. Alex grabs for her hand and kisses it in a gesture of reassurance, dropping their joined hands to his lap and keeping them there. Alex is a flirt, just like Jared, but Y/N knows that he would never stray from her. At least, not unless she tells him to.

The car proceeds to drive them across town to an area of L.A. Y/N isn’t familiar with. She and Alex haven’t lived in the city very long, so it’s not like she’s expecting to know every inch of its nightlife scene but this place seems much more out of the way than she was expecting them to be going. The streets they’re trundling down are dark, not bright and shining with neon and glittering lights like so much of downtown tends to be. The occasional person or couple is walking along the sidewalk, but overall it’s deserted by city standards.

“Where are we going again?” Y/N pipes up from her seat, looking out the window and spotting another couple in dark coats holding hands as they amble down the side street.

“We’re almost there,” Vicki smiles reassuringly at Y/N, then turns to Jensen. “Tom texted to let me know he’s set aside a table upstairs for us, so everyone can just watch or they can join in, whatever you want.”

“Who’s Tom?” Y/N asks curiously, she hasn’t heard the name before.

“He’s our boyfriend,” Misha answers matter of factly, like he’s trying not to betray any emotion around the statement until he can judge Y/N and Alex’s reactions to that news. Y/N can’t pretend she isn’t surprised, but the more she thinks about it the more she realises that Misha is always quite private about his and Vicki’s relationship – this must be why.

“Oh, cool dude,” Alex laughs, giving an approving nod, almost like he’s impressed with Misha’s nonconformity. Y/N smiles. Alex always loves finding out about what people have going on ‘outside the box’, it helps him come out of his own shell just a little bit more every time.

“Can’t wait to meet him,” Y/N chimes in, just to quiet the small hint of wariness she can see playing behind Misha’s eyes. He relaxes visibly and smiles, much more his carefree and goofy self in that instant.

“Oh, s’that it?” Jared points out the window to a dim neon sign and a small group of people sitting on benches and little round tables, smoking. The block letters shine against the rough brickwork of the building they’re mounted on, grey and sophisticated, unlike all the garish colours Y/N would usually expect from a nightclub.

Femme Fatale.

Y/N hadn’t known what to expect when they got inside but she never would have expected what she’s witnessing now. Femme Fatale is a swingers club. Not just that, it’s a BDSM swingers club.

How had they known? Y/N wonders. She and Alex don’t usually make a habit of discussing that aspect of their relationship with other people. Especially since Alex is still pretty new to being a Sub. He had toyed with the idea of being a Dom in a previous relationship, and technically he labels himself as a Switch when people ask, but he once he had told Y/N that since he met her she brings out a part of himself he hadn’t really connected with properly before, and he loves it.

His eyes are wide now, blown out with obvious lust as Y/N watches him watch his surroundings. Jared is the same, and Jensen is watching him just as intently as Y/N is watching Alex. With how they act, Y/N always suspected that Jensen and Jared were in a Dom/Sub relationship, and she was quietly smug that she had been right. Misha and Vicki had left the party at their table on the exposed balcony as soon as their boyfriend Tom, who Y/N now understands is the manager of this club, had shown them in and sat them down. Now, Y/N knows what Vicki had meant in the car about them just being able to watch if that’s what they wanted to do, instead of joining in. Misha and Vicki have clearly opted to join in, and Y/N can’t see where they went off to, lost in the heaving crowd of people below them.

So far, she’s enjoying watching, and Alex clearly is too. His slutty shorts are doing nothing to hide the semi he’d popped almost the second they walked in. It isn’t so much her thing, but Y/N knows Alex has an exhibitionist streak, and she can easily imagine what must be running through his mind right now. Being out in the middle of everything, shown off, performing. And Y/N thinks she might like showing him off, showing everyone what a good little boy he can be for his Mistress, showing everyone how much control she has over him. How much he wants to do everything she asks of him, to please her.

“Jared,” Y/N looks away from Alex when Jensen speaks, and Alex looks up from the ground floor where he had been watching some of the people on display. “Do you want to go play?” Jensen asks neutrally, very carefully leaving the choice up to Jared, without betraying his own feelings on the notion.

“Can we?” Jared’s eyes light up instantly and Y/N smirks to herself. Jared and Alex are more alike than she realised.

“Yeah, c’mon baby boy,” Jensen smiles indulgently and holds out his hand to Jared, who takes it and follows him down the stairs to the play areas. Y/N looks back to Alex, whose eyes are glued to his cast mates’ backs.

“What about you, baby boy?” Y/N purrs, using Jared’s nickname teasingly and Alex blushes as she runs her nails up his bare arm. She’d never called him that before but it’s clear he likes it. “Do you want to go play?”

“I–” Alex breaks off, considering. “Can we just watch for a bit? See what everyone’s doing?” he asks nervously.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Y/N smiles and offers Alex her hand. They make their way down the iron grate staircase into the madness that has been churning below them this whole time. It’s easy to spot Jared and Jensen, despite the crowd. They stick out above the heads of a lot of the people nearby because most of them are bent over or crouched down to some extent.

They’re at the edge of the dance floor, in a space that’s still public but is cordoned off for more… intimate play. There’s two St. Andrew’s crosses bolted on the wall, both currently occupied with girls – one wearing an assortment of leather straps with metal studs poking out of them, and one wearing absolutely nothing but the cuffs binding her to the beams. Leather couches and benches are dotted around the floorspace, all covered with partially to wholly naked occupants engaging in every variety of sexual activity Y/N can imagine. Alex looks like a kid in a candy store watching it all unfold before him.

“You can watch whoever you want, but no touching without my permission, okay?” Y/N speaks into Alex’s ear so he can hear her over the bass of the music that’s vibrating through the crowd around them.

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex salutes her cheekily and starts to move away but she grabs the neck of his shirt and hauls him back, looking him sternly in the eye.

“Do you want to try that again with a little respect, baby?” Alex drops his eyes and looks penitent.

“Yes, Mistress.” He gives her a weak smile, asking for forgiveness, and Y/N decides to let him off this time.

“Good boy,” she leans up and kisses his forehead before giving him a swift pat on the backside. “Have fun, I’m going to grab a drink,” Y/N points to one of the bars lining the far side of the play area. “Find me that way if you want me, okay baby?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Alex nods meekly, giving Y/N a small kiss before he ducks into the crowd towards a group of spectators all watching a girl tied to a bench getting teased by her Domme and a flogger. Typical, Y/N smiles to herself and makes her way to the bar to order a glass of wine.

Wine in hand, Y/N spins on her heel and looks around the room. Alex is still where she left him and a few groups over she spots Jensen, his back to her, watching something else she can’t quite make out between everyone’s bodies. Jared doesn’t appear to be anywhere though. Y/N decides to have a look at whatever Jensen’s observing, curious what’s got him so stoically still. There’s a lot going on around him but it becomes instantly clear which performer Jensen’s watching when Y/N approaches and peeks over his shoulder.

Jared is on his hands and knees, in amongst a crowd of people. There’s a sort of black leather platform that he’s perched on, so they’re elevated from the floor. It puts Jared’s mouth at the perfect height to reach people’s waists, which he’s currently putting to good use by swapping between two men with their cocks standing out stiff from their jeans. Jensen is watching closely, smirking at the crowd all raptly watching his boyfriend. When Jared takes the man with the bigger cock so deep that his nose is pressed to the man’s stomach, Y/N can’t help but laugh.

“I see why you like him so much,” Y/N bumps her shoulder against Jensen and he jumps, looking down at her and grinning when his brain catches up to her comment.

“Yeah he’s good with his mouth,” Jensen agrees, smiling proudly.

“Nice of you to loan him out.”

“I like to think I’m generous,” Jensen shrugs. “But not too generous,” Jensen catches the arm of a man trying to round the platform to get to Jared’s ass instead of his mouth. “Sorry man, no guys back there.”

“Oops, sorry dude,” the guy backs off quickly, and Y/N is impressed by how respectful the whole exchange is.

“Is that Jensen only territory?” Y/N questions, wiggling her brow.

“Yeah I don’t like other guys fuckin’ him,” Jensen explains. “But I like girls pegging him, it’s fun to humiliate him like that.” Just then Y/N spots a small woman climbing into a strap on with the help of her partner, who drops to her knees to suck on the dildo a little before covering it in lube from the bottle on the ground by the platform.

“No kidding,” Y/N whistles lowly, in awe as she watches the girl push the black silicone inside Jared, inch by inch. The way his hole is pulsing around the intrusion is almost hypnotic. She tries to picture what Alex would look like, on his hands and knees amongst all these people, everyone watching him get split open by some little girl with a big dick… everyone seeing him loving it, like Jared clearly is.

Y/N hears Jensen laugh beside her and she jumps a little, clearing her throat in embarrassment at being caught out staring at Jared’s asshole so blatantly.

“Sorry,” she clears her throat again and takes a sip of wine to hide behind her glass.

“It’s okay,” Jensen laughs again. “I wouldn’t let him do this if I didn’t want people to watch him.”

“Good point,” Y/N acknowledges, feeling a little better. “And um, out of curiosity,” Y/N pauses, trying to frame her question politely. “How did you get Jared to agree to the pegging?” Jensen raises an eyebrow at Y/N curiously. “You know, one Domme to another,” Y/N elaborates, so Jensen doesn’t think she’s trying to ask if she can peg Jared. That’s the furthest thing from her mind right now.

“No kidding?” Jensen chuckles, clearly impressed. “Well, I don’t know what you and Alex get up to normally, but it wasn’t too much of a stretch for Jared. He gets off on humiliation and I get off on humiliating him, and this fits that bill for both of us.” At that comment, Jensen looks back to Jared and smirks before reaching down to adjust himself subtly, and Y/N laughs. “What about it is calling to you?” Jensen asks, and Y/N has to pause to consider that before she can hit on the answer.

“It’s the one part of Alex I don’t think anyone’s touched. I mean he’s never mentioned it if he has done it before but I don’t think he has. The idea of marking him like that, of having something no one else can have from him…” Y/N trails off, letting her thoughts spiral as she feels the space between her legs heat up. When she adjusts her stance, she feels the slick brush of wet panties against her skin. Yes, she loves that idea. The thought of taking that last first, touching a part of Alex that no one else has touched. Being literally inside of him. Fucking him into submission would take on a whole new meaning.

“Yeah, that’s hot,” Jensen agrees and Y/N smiles dreamily. Now she just needs to figure out how to bring it up to Alex. “Hey,” Jensen taps her on the shoulder and points over Jared to the other side of the crowd, “you might not have to do as much convincing as you think.”

Standing across from them, Jared still on his hands and knees between them being fucked at both ends, is Alex. His eyes are fixed steadily on Jared, the rest of the world a mere blur around him and the object of his focus. His pupils are huge, in part due to the dark of the club but Y/N knows it’s also to do with desire. She watches his eyes dart back and forth and realises that he’s not just watching Jared, he’s watching the dildo that’s steadily fucking in and out of Jared’s ass, following its movements closely. He licks his lips and Y/N smiles. Jensen is right, she’s not going to have to convince him at all. He already wants this.

Part 2 - read ahead on WordPress here

Enjoy my work? Consider supporting me by subscribing to my WordPress Blog!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eddiesgirl @raidens-realm @delightfullykrispypeach @05supernatural20

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK IV | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic. Cover by @timey-wimey-lovi​!

PART 4! Read Part 3 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Let Me Know - Clear Eyes.

Friends - Ed Sheeran.

Perfect Places - Lorde.

Word Count: 4,551.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Junior Year.

Tisch School of the Arts, 

New York University.

New York City. 

“We’re going out tonight,” Claire said, plopping down on your bed. 

“Oh? We are?” You replied, a notebook in your lap, and your back resting against the pillows.

“Yes. There is a welcome back party on campus tonight and we’re going.”

“I don’t feel like partying,” you sighed. “We just moved back in. There’s still so much left to do, to unpack.”

“Guess what? It’ll be here when we get back. And we’ll have all of tomorrow to decorate. But right now, we’re juniors, we’re thriving, and we’re gonna party!” She did a little dance, her red hair bouncing on her head. 

You giggled, “Fine. Only until midnight! Then, we’re coming right back.”

“Geez, grandma? Midnight? Make it one!”

“Fine, one-thirty.”

“I’ll take it,” she smiled. She hopped out of bed, and turned on her heels, finger guns pointing at you. “Wear that red tube top. Step all the way out, kid. I mean it!”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

You wore the top. It looked good. Abnormally good. Insanely good. It hugged your body, and accented your breasts, little ruffles handing on the hem. You paired it with a loose pair of jeans, leather boots, and sparkly jewelry. Your hair was pulled out of your face and you applied light makeup. 

“Yes, ma’am!” Claire cheered when she saw you. “For someone who didn’t wanna party, you sure snapped.” 

“Hush,” you blushed. “I just wanna be prepared, y’know, in case we take pictures or run into people.”

Person. Singular. 

You anticipated a high chance of seeing Matthew tonight, and if it was true, it would be your first time seeing each other in person in two months. After week upon week of late night phone calls — full of dirty words, quiet moans, and soft goodnight wishes. With his timezone being three hours behind yours, the two of you set alarms on your phone to talk in the early hours of the morning. Until you fell into this routine of talking every night. First, helping each other get off — sometimes more than once. And then having a sleepy, giggle-filled conversation about anything under the sun. It regularly lasted until one of you fell asleep.

So, yeah. You were eager to see him. Even more eager to get back to his place. Get back underneath him. It’d been a week since you last spoke, both of you being too busy moving back to New York. You ached for him dearly. And you wanted his first reaction to seeing you again to be lustful, intense. The outfit was perfect.

Claire and you walked across campus, arm in arm, skin glowing under the lights, hair blowing in the breeze. The music was palpable, and you could hear it from miles away. The two of you stepped into the dorming building, giggling at the sight of familiar faces, the smell of alcohol and weed, the sound of bass. 

For most of the night it was easy to mingle. You carried a solo cup of alcohol from each room — vodka. Everytime you drank rum, you got horny. It was weird. You couldn’t turn a corner without bumping into someone you knew, be it a dancer, an actor, film student. Being a double major, and active on campus, you knew way too many people. And everyone seemed to be there that night. It took you a good hour to rotate amongst groups. 

“[y/n]?”

You turned around, a smile instantly appearing on your face. “Alex! Oh, my goodness! How are you?”

The dashing boy smiled at you, his hand on your shoulder. “Hey! I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I’m currently trying to have a good time despite being tired as hell.”

He laughed, “Well, I see you’ve got some good time juice there, so you’re halfway to freedom. Hey, I forgot to tell you — your performance in the nutcracker last Christmas was incredible. I, uh, I actually went to the spring ballet after that because I was so impressed.”

“Thank you,” you grinned. “I like to inspire people to experience ballet. It’s cool.”

“I was very inspired,” he nodded. “Hopefully we’ll have some more classes together this semester.” 

“Yeah! If not, you know how to reach me.” You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling too wide. He gave you a quick wink, and walked away. 

You instantly began looking for Claire, rushing around the dorm for anyone resembling your friend. You noticed her in the threshold of a room, shoulder leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. You walked up to her, “Claire! Claire, you’re not gonna believe who I just ran into. It was definitely not the reunion I was expecting tonight.” 

Claire was dazed, staring in front of her with a face solid as stone. You very rarely saw her like this, and it freaked you out right away. “Claire? Claire, dude, what’s wrong?” You turned your head to follow her gaze, and your eyes landed on the couch. 

People lined the cushions, and dead in the center was Matthew. His hair had grown out a lot, and he dressed differently. All button down shirts and khaki shorts. With that damn chain tucked in his collar. And beside him was a girl. Hair jet black, a matching black mini dress, paired with sandals. They were kissing. Hot. Heavy. His hand gripping her hair, the other on his thigh. When they seperated, she touched his lips and you felt yourself having a stroke. The giggled at each other and Matthew kissed her cheek. 

“It’s about one-thirty, right?” Claire asked you, her sight not moving. 

You gulped. There was an ache in your chest that made it hard to speak. But you took a deep breath, and release the words, “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Claire walked around you, heading towards the exit, and you followed. The two of you walked home, silent, arms over each other’s shoulders. In the room, Claire dropped her stuff to the floor,  kicked her shoes off and sat on her bed. You rushed into the space, approached your nightstand and rummaged through it. 

“What are you doing, [y/n]?”

“I’m packing a bowl,” you replied, grabbing your herbs, a lighter and the bowl. 

“Right now? In here?” She gasped.

“Is that okay?”

She sighed, “Yeah. Come share.”

The two of you sat on her bed, thirty minutes later, laying against the wall with your heads staring at the ceiling. Your eyelids were lowered, red, and your breathing was slow. 

“I’m hungry,” Claire said, texting on her phone. “Do we have gummy bears? I want gummy bears. But haribo gummy bears. Not those knocks off we used to buy. And some soda. Soda would be so good right now. My mouth is so dry.”

You stayed quiet, eyes focused on the lights overhead. You couldn’t get the image out of your mind. Matthew. And that girl. Kissing. Touching. 

“Her name is Veronica,” Claire said. 

You turned your hear to her, “Huh?”

“Her name is Veronica,” she repeated. “Or Roni for short.” She rolled her eyes. “She, uh, she’s from Vegas. She went to school with...Gube, actually. They dated.”

“Oh...” you nodded. “Are you...are you okay?”

“I — I, yeah, I’m fine,” she shrugged. “It’s just...really inconvenient of him to go back to her right now.”

“Back to her?”

“They’re together. They’re dating. Apparently they got back together this summer.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows together, a thousand thoughts running through your mind at once. “What do you think about that?” Claire asked. 

“Uh...” You shrugged. “I’m surprised anyone actually touches that boy,” you laughed, the sound coming out broken and sad. 

“Yeah...well...Misty says Roni is a big one for Gube. That, um, necklace he wears? She gave it to him years ago. He never took it off.” 

You nodded, “Yeah,” your voice cracked. “Well, that’s...that’s some heavy fixation there.” 

“[y/n]...”

“I should shower. I’m gonna shower.” You went to get off the bed, but Claire grabbed your wrist. You turned to her, and she pushed your hair out of your face. 

“I’m really upset about this, kid,” she said. “Can you...can you just lay with me for a bit?” 

You sighed, gave her a small smile and leaned in to hug her. She held you close, placing one hand on your head and the other on your rest. And she let you rest your head on her chest, as you let silent tears roll down your cheeks. 

Monday morning, you got up at 5 in the morning. You spent 2 hours in the ballet studio, twirling and dancing until your feet went numb. When you returned home, Claire was still asleep and you took a quick shower. You tried on ten different outfits, applied makeup, spent a long time on your hair. You made breakfast, checked for any assignments, surfed social media. And still had an hour before class. 

You chose to walk around campus, locate all your classes, grab some coffee, and then you headed to your first class. Walking through the building, you sipped on your drink, moving absentmindedly roaming the halls. Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled you into a storage closet. Your scream was cut short, and you jumped as the door closed behind you.

You looked up at see Matthew staring at you, a soft smile on his face. “Hey.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered, turning to exit the room. But Matthew put his hand on the door knob to stop you.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded. “Um, do I see you at the party —“

“Yep,” you nodded, not making eye contact with him. 

“So...then, you saw me at the party with—“

“Yep.”

“Okay...[y/n]...”

“I really have to go to class, so, thanks for the detour, but I’m leaving now.” You removed his hand from the knob and left the closet, not looking back. 

You walked into your classroom, swallowing to get rid of the weird feeling in your throat. You set your bag down and took a seat. You attempted to shake Matthew out of your mind, the smell of him, the sight of him, the tension of being so close to him. But it was hard. It may have been the hardest thing ever. 

“Well, well, well,” a voice called to you. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

You looked up to see Alex, giving you a toothy grin and a look of pure joy. “Alex,” you breathed. “Hi. This is awesome, you’re in here?”

“Yeah,” he took a seat beside you. “Haven’t seen you much since freshman year. This is nice.”

“It sure is.”

So. 

Remember number eight on your list of atrocities against Matthew Gubler? 

Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project. 

Alex would be the friend. He was gorgeous and kind and so good in bed. You first met in a cinematography class freshman year, where he very boldly asked if you wanted to hang out some time. You smiled, said yes, and that led to the aforementioned sexual encounter. It only happened a handful of times, until the semester was over. Then you didn’t see each other as often.

But he was here now. He was here and he was flirting with you. You were flirting back. You were hurt and upset and confused and so fucking horny, you could burst. So, after classes, you reached out to him and asked if he could help you with a pre class assignment. He told you to come over. You did. 

You didn’t work on the assignment though. 

Starting off pretty hot and heavy, it was a few weeks of meaningless sex until he asked you out. Claire cheered when she heard the news, causing you to give her a confused look. “Why are you so happy that I have a date?” You giggled. 

“Oh...I just — Alex is cute! He’s great, I always wondered what happened to him. You said he was good in the sack and he was always sweet to you. I’m just, so glad you’re happy.”

You gave her a faux smile, “Yeah. I’m happy.” 

Alex’s friend was having a birthday party at his apartment, and Alex insisted you come. Said it was the only way he’d be able to have any fun when everyone got too drunk. You agreed, and when he picked you up that night, you were dressed in a purple romper and diamond earrings. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “You look beautiful, too.” 

He held your hand as he drove to the apartment, as you got out the car, walked up the stairs, entered the living space. He introduced you to everyone you met, his arm around you proudly and your head nuzzled into his chest. 

Watching you across the room was a very irritated Matthew Gubler, who sat with Veronica on his lap and a beer in his hand. You didn’t notice Matthew’s presence for a long time, considering the fact that he was avoiding you, and you were more focused on Alex. 

While talking to Alex’s friends, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You strolled down the hallway, searching for the restroom. 

“[y/n]!”

You turned around, confused. Matthew marched up to you, his hands in his pocket, his face determined. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you told him, and continued to walk. 

He followed you. “So, you dating Alex now?”

“That’s not really your business, now is it?”

He grabbed onto your arm and pulled your body into his, hiding you two behind a corner. “No, but it bugs me.”

“It bugs you?”

“It bugs me. I don’t want you with Alex. Alex is a dick.” 

“Well, not to me—“

Matthew leaned down and kissed you, his hands tightened on your waist. He kissed you like he was starving, mouth open, breath heavy. 

You pushed him away, your eyes closed in shock and ecstasy. No, no, you thought. “Matthew—“

“Let’s leave,” he interjected.

“Huh?”

“Let’s leave. Me and you. Let’s go.”

“No,” you snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because, I’m here with Alex! And you’re here with...her, so, no. I’m staying here, with the guy I came with.”

“C’mon—“

“Matthew, no! No! Are you deaf? Are you dumb? Leave me alone, and go back to your girlfriend.” You suddenly didn’t have to pee anymore, so you returned to Alex and his group of friends. Matthew watched as you took a seat in Alex’s lap, and you pretended not to notice. 

There was radio silence for months. Matthew even removed you on snapchat, and for your sanity, you ignored it. You continued a casual relationship with Alex, and he continued to worship the ground you walked on. A vast change in pace from Matthew. Claire pushed for the Alex relationship hardcore, saying hi to him when came over, giving you guys time alone, tagging alone with you two to parties. 

But every once in a while, you thought about Matthew. When you saw a particular movie, or heard one of his favorite bands, right after you would have sex. And especially on Halloween. Over the summer, he told you all about his costume plans, party plans, and movie marathons he was going to have. And for some reason, like a clown, you just assumed you’d be with him when it happened.

By the time final exams were over, you and Alex considered yourselves exclusive. You strolled into the end of the year party, holding hands and laughing. You’d fallen into a good groove with his friends. They all liked you, you liked them, and you enjoyed their company. While sitting with them, one pulled out a joint, lit it and began to pass it around.

“Want a hit?” Alex asked.

“She’s pretty tiny. Can she handle it?” A friend said. 

You glared at her and took the paper between your lips, inhaling and holding a large amount of smoke. She watched in amazement as you exhaled through your nose, “Well...I stand corrected, princess.”

You took in a sharp breath of air.

And that was just the beginning of the spiral. 

You stayed in rotation of the weed for a long time, until your thoughts were nothing but a mess of words racing everywhere. Your eyes felt heavy, so did your body. And you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You were wondering was there ever really a connection or were you just highly sexually compatible? Did Matthew ever have feelings for you or did he just want one thing? Why does kissing him and fucking him and just talking to him feel so different? How come when everything falls apart, you want Matthew? How come when everything is going well, you want Matthew? Need to talk to Matthew. Where’s Matthew? Where’s Matthew? 

“[y/n]!” Alex called. “You’re high as fuck,” he laughed. “What are you thinking about?”

Matthew. 

“Come here,” and he pulled you into a kiss. And when you pulled away, feeling nothing, nothing at all, you realized you needed Matthew. You needed to feel something. But Matthew wasn’t here. And you wish he was here. Where’s Matthew? 

Tears were springing to your eyes, but you quickly began to cough, distracting yourself with a new sensation. You rose to your feet, and exited the room, much to Alex’s disapproval. He watched you rush past him, his face laced with confusion.

Everyone you passed by looked like Matthew. Why did everyone look like Matthew? You missed Matthew. And this was unfair. You wiped at the tears in your eyes, but they were already gliding down your cheeks. They burned your skin and it made you cry more. You were blinded. And way too high to notice Matthew - the real Matthew - entering the hallway. 

His eyes were redder than red, a lot like yours. His movements were slow. But something told him to reach out for you. Like a magnet. And you fell into his arms. It took him a whole second to realize it was you, but he did. 

“[y/n]?” he whispered. “Oh, my God, [y/n]. What’s wrong? What happened?” His hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs wiping the tears on your cheek. 

“[y/n]!” Oh, no. Alex. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” 

At that point, you looked up at Matthew. Focused in on him. Said his name. But his attention had turned to Alex. And he was pissed. You could tell. 

“Wait, wait, Matthew, wait,” you pleaded. 

“What the hell did you do to her?” He shouted, holding you close. 

“Wait, Matthew, he didn’t—“

“Gube, let her go, dude!.” Alex snapped, reaching for your arm. 

And that sent Matthew through the roof. He released you from his arms and moved towards Alex, delivering a swift punch to his face. You’d never seen Matthew so much as cuss someone out, so this. This. This was hard to register. Nonetheless, you screamed his name, attempting to push both of them away from the brawl. But it was useless. 

Two guys had to step in and separate Alex and Matthew, pulling them to opposing sides of the hallway. And you had to decide who to follow. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

You kept a good 100 feet behind Matthew the whole time, watching him stomp his way to his residence hall. You knew exactly how to get into the building, but weren’t sure you should. You’d never seen him so angry. So red. So primal. 

But, Matthew. 

Oh, God, Matthew. What would you say? What would you do? Did he want to see you? Did he want to be alone? Was his roommate there? You paced for 20 minutes, freezing your ass off outside the dormitory. Your mind was made up when you found the side entrance and let yourself in, marching up the steps. Now or never. Now or never. And you needed to see Matthew now. 

You perched yourself in front of his door, paused, and proceeded to knock with full force. “Be home, be home, be home,” you whispered. 

He was home.

He came to the door, shirtless, his face bruised, his hair tasseled, and that stupid, ridiculous gold chain around his neck. And you’d never wanted to suck a dick so badly in your entire life. You instantly imagined grabbing him, kissing him, pulling him close. But you didn’t do that. You stood there, looking like an idiot, until he spoke. 

“What are you doing here, [y/n]?”

You hadn’t even thought about it. It just felt right to follow him. “I—I wanted...I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He shrugged, “I’m alright.” His face was stern. Stoic. No emotion showed on his features and it made you sick.

“Oh,” you said. “Okay.” 

You stared at each other for a long time. You just wanted him to say it. Ask you to stay. Ask you to come in. To admit it. But he wouldn’t. So you had to walk away. 

“Okay,” you nodded, sadly, and ducked your head as you headed towards the exit. “Okay.” You sniffled, patting at your eyes as they watered. 

Matthew watched you go. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. “[y/n],” he called. 

You’d stopped in your tracks.

“You...you were pretty stoned at the party,” he told you. “Are you sober?” 

You turned your body to face him. You thought about his eyes. How red they were. How slow he moved. How you had both been utterly and totally high as hell. “I’m sober,” you said. Honestly. After all of tonight’s events, and the sheer shock of seeing Matthew, being so close to him again, you had sobered up. “Believe me, I’m sober. Are you?”

Matthew licked him lips, nodding as he sighed. He stepped out into the hallway, and pushed the door to his dorm open. He signaled for you to enter. 

You gave him a quick and sad smile, and you avoided eye contact with him as you stepped into the empty room. He led the way to his private room, and let you in, closing the door behind you. You kept your back to him, arms crossed over your chest. 

He sighed, “I’m—Veronica and I broke up. Actually, she broke up with me...again. So, y’know, it wasn’t much of a surprise, but—“

“Matthew,” you cut him off, turning to him. “I need a favor.”

He hesitated, then his voice was strong, “Anything.”

“I leave for home next week for Christmas break. And since, I can’t seem to figure out what the hell about you is driving me insane, Matthew Gubler, I’m going to need time. Space. If you need time and space. So, you need to make that decision.”

“Okay.”

“But right now, take your clothes off,” you ordered. 

“Okay.”

He stared at you lustfully, just like you wanted, his body moving on autopilot to remove his shorts and boxers. You mirrored his movements, and took off your dress, subsequently tossing your bra and panties onto the floor. He grabbed onto your body and kissed you, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your waist. He pushed you back onto his bed, falling on top of you and kissing your neck. You held onto his torso as he made way to your collarbone, nibbling on it lightly. He pulled away and gropped your breasts, massaging them with his fingers. 

He was practically drooling over them, his eyes focused solely on your boobs. He leaned down and sucked on your nipple, while his hand slid down between your legs. He felt around your core, and slowly slid two fingers into you. You threw your head back, and moaned. 

Matthew kissed a trail from your breast to your hips. He began to kiss your inner thighs, kneeling down in front of you and pulling you up to his face. He pressed his tongue against  your clit, working his muscle in an up and down motion. You moved your hips against his face and his fingers, gasping weakly. You forgot how good his mouth felt, but this was huge, huge reminder. You gripped onto his hair and swore under your breath. 

He noticed your thighs tightening around his face, and increased his intensity and speed. Your back arched off of the mattress, you whimpered into your mouth, and your chest was heaving. You let out a long groan as you came on his face, your entire body tensing up. He withdrew his fingers from you, and licked up from your core to your navel to your breasts. He kissed your neck, then your lips. And he sucked his fingers clean, holding eye contact with you.

Overwhelmed, you pulled him in by his face and kissed him passionately. He grunted against your lips, rubbing his cock on your core. He pushed into you, his jaw dropping and his forehead against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and this encouraged him to thrust into you. Matthew held you in his arms, moaning into your ear as he moved his hips. 

You kissed his jaw, sucking on the skin until you felt it pulse between your lips. You could feel his muscles moving under your palms, and his cock striking a sensitive spot inside of you. It felt like you were crumbling, getting weaker by the second. But when you felt the chain hitting your chin, you wired back to life. You gripped onto the necklace and twisted it around your fingers, angrily biting your lip. 

As he slammed into you, you muttered a soft “fuck!” and yanked on the chain. It popped off of his neck, and it was cathartic. You moaned and threw it to a far corner of the room. You reached down and rubbed your clit quickly, panting as Matthew’s body began to tremble. He kept his gaze focused on you as you let him fuck you into another orgasm, and your hips rolled against his in an eager rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck!” Matthew exclaimed, pulling out of you just in time. He released himself onto your stomach, moaning and gasping for air. 

The mattress creaked as he laid down beside you, collapsing with a thud. The two of you stared at the ceiling, naked and breathy and covered in sweat. You rested your hand on Matthew’s chest, and he intertwined your fingers. 

The next week, you were headed to the train station to get home for Christmas. Not knowing what to say to each, Matthew and you hadn’t talked since last week. You sat in the back of an uber, your suitcase at your side, when your phone vibrated in your lap. You picked it up and recognized Matthew’s name flashing on your screen. 

You sighed, swiped to answer, and held the phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“I don’t want space.”

“I—“ You stuttered. 

“I want as little space as possible.”

You were stunned, quiet, “Okay.”

The line went dead, and you set your phone down. You bit down on your lip. But the smile was still clear.

[PART 5.]

[saltfics]

Villains AU: Hot Chocolate

For the RWRB Winterfest 2020. Day 2: Hot Chocolate.

Based on Playing His Game, a Hero/Villain AU. 

Nothing quite says truce like sharing hot chocolate and trying to distract the crowd from the fact that one of the cups is floating. 

(Full text below the cut)

AO3 link

He never realized how uncomfortable he is wearing his suit in public for no reason. Clearly, there’s a reason why he’s not the kind of over-glorified hero who participates in public appearances, aside from the fact that this city is not the kind to sanctify its heroes, or that Alex isn’t the most moral role model to begin with.  Even with the mask on his face, he feels like they can all see through him, and even though this spandex-looking fabric is the socially acceptable hero costume, he still feels super dumb wearing it.

And yet, after the hundredth post he saw of people hoping they would get to see some of the superheroes in the Christmas Market like they were a couple of fucking Santa Claus’ elves, and the thirty additional times Portal told him she wanted to go, Alex had caved to the request. Kid, however, wasn’t coming. As it turns out he always goes back to England for Christmas, so at least Alex has that going for him.

He lost Portal in the crowd within an hour. She keeps blinking in and out of places to make the kids whoop and laugh, so Alex has spent the past forty-something minutes strolling around by himself, nursing a cup of hot chocolate that’s barely even warm at this point. The Christmas Market is perfectly charming, all little wooden houses decorated with fake snow and tinsel and an absurd amount of fairy lights. The air smells of melted sugar and wine, and it makes him want to overspend on sickly sweet things he’s going to regret later. But as beautiful as it is, he would much rather spend an afternoon here with June and Nora, instead of wandering alone, and he can’t do that while he’s in costume even if he knows they’re somewhere there in the crowd.

He has just downed the last of his chocolate when a voice comes up behind him.

“Hello there.”

Alex yelps, earning confused glances and more than a few chuckles from people passing by. He turns around to find nothing but air and snow and a grinning old vendor in his booth too far away from him to have been the one talking. Frowning, Alex carefully stretches his hand out in front of him until his fingers brush against fabric.

“Take me out to dinner first,” the voice whispers, tangled in a soft laugh.

“I know that’s your stomach, you ass,” Alex scoffs, his own words just as quiet, speaking from the corner of his mouth so people don’t realize he’s talking. He turns back around so he can pretend to watch the people walking around the market but he keeps their shoulders close together to make sure the other is still there. “What are you doing here? I doubt they invited you.”

“I can’t enjoy some holiday cheer?”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “You’re not going to steal the gifts, are you?”

“Is that how you think of me? As a Grinch?”

Alex sighs. “Not really. If anything you’d be the kind of person who’d rob a toy multi-corporate that like, secretly donates to fascist organizations, and then just dump the toys here.” Figures it would be Alex to have an arch-nemesis too nice to actually stop so they can both play hopscotch with line of right and wrong like schoolchildren. “Was that your plan?”

Mirage chuckles, the sound sending a chill down Alex’s spine. “Not this year.”

“That’s almost a threat. Please tell me I won’t need to fight you during the holidays, Invisiboy. Come on, give me a break.” He’s joking for the most part but it would also be really fucking nice if his secret job could leave him alone for the season so he can feel like a normal person for once. Plus hiding his extracurriculars from his family is always draining in all the worst ways. As much as June helps, she cannot take away the worry in his mom’s eyes since that has burrowed there from the day they almost lost him, or rather the one they got him back, or the way she acts when Alex is being weird like she wonders if somehow he returned wrong.

He’s thought of showing her more than once. But he thinks she already knows. She’s seen the news segments, the time-line matches and Ellen Claremont is no fool. So as long as Alex withholds that confirmation from her, she can sleep a bit better, not knowing for certain what her son is doing after dark. Alex loses enough sleep for the both of them.

Mirage shifts against him, breaking him out of his thoughts. Alex could swear he’s moving closer. “Are you…?” He snorts. “Are you snuggling closer to me?”

“You’re like a human radiator—are those your powers?”

“Might be. Never thought about it. Honestly, I just thought I was warm because of the chocolate.”

“Oh, that would do the trick.”

Alex must have spent too much time with him if he can grasp the slight longing in his tone.

“If you’re that cold why don’t you just get some for yourself instead of cuddling with the guy who might try to kill you?” he asks, raising his brows towards what he hopes is Mirage’s general direction.

“You wouldn’t,” Mirage says but he does move away from him, and okay, thanks, he feels like an ass now. “I think people just might notice if there’s a cup of hot chocolate floating around. And like you said, I wasn’t invited. Heroes only.”

Alex could argue about this both in his favor and against it but the last thing he needs is to tell Mirage he’s nice to his face, more than he already does by not dragging his invisible ass to jail every time they meet. Instead he decides to do something that will work for both of them. “Tell you what. You tell me what you’re planning for the holiday season, and I’ll help you drink your chocolate.”

“Truly?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Mirage is quiet for a moment. His shoulders brushes against Alex’s again. “All right. You weren’t far off. Just… not here. The children’s hospital.”

Alex’s heart clenches. “Where are you taking them from?”

“Spitfire, why don’t you go on vacation next week?”

He tries to look at him again, squinting his eyes at the emptiness where his voice is coming from like he could catch a glimpse, a shadow of his figure. He has to be wearing his costume to be invisible in it but is his face bare? Would he finally see a hint of his features if Mirage let him? There’s nothing but fairy lights next to him but if he focuses enough he can just pick up the barest puff of a warm breath in the cold air.

Alex smiles despite himself. “I think I might.”

Mirage bumps their shoulders together in response.

“Okay, time for my end of the deal I guess. Wait here.”

He buys another cup of hot chocolate, insisting that he pays for it after the vendor gave him the first one free of charge ‘for his service’. If he’s going to be feeding super-villains he should do that out of his own pocket.

The hole in his plan reveals itself when he returns and he… can’t see where Mirage is. Of course he can’t. Fuck. There’s a couple taking photos in the spot where they were and even if he had perfect eyesight he would not be able to spot a little cloud of a breath with all these people around.

“This is what I get for being nice to you,” he mutters under his breath, as he goes to take a sip from the chocolate he’s apparently going to drink himself. Oh, yay, more sugar.

He jumps when someone steps lightly on his foot but as he looks around, no one is close enough to have hurt him.

There’s an extra pair of footsteps on the snow in front of him.

Alex fights back a laugh. “Hey, is snow your mortal enemy? When it snows do you have a little white pile floating around on the top of your head?”

“Did it truly take you three seconds to give up on me and try to steal my chocolate?”

“You should be the last person to lecture me about stealing. And I paid for it!” Alex can’t stop the grin from spreading on his face as Mirage laughs nearby. “Okay, are you ready? Wait for my cue.”

“What are you—”

 Ignoring him, he walks over to where most of the children have gathered. “Hey, kids! Do you want to see a magic trick?”

He thinks he hears Mirage groan somewhere behind him.

All the kids and a number of adults turn to him at his exclamation. He sees the recognition on their faces and he tries to focus only on those who seem happy to see him and not on the ones who would have him arrested if they could—he can see the distaste on their faces, so stark against the holiday cheer the surrounds this place. Once they realize he’s messing around, most of them turn back to their business but a couple of kids break off the mold and approach him, waiting with their big, curious eyes to see what he’ll do.

“Don’t get too excited now but I know one trick and I know it really well. You ready? I, Spitfire, hero extraordinaire, will make this cup”—he shows off the hot chocolate with the flair of a magician presenting his empty hat— “float in the air.”

Some children giggle in front of him. If Mirage bails on him now, Alex is going to kill him. “In three… two…” He feels Mirage’s fingers against his own around the cup. “… One!”

Alex lets it slip from his hands and though Mirage fumbles with it for a second, it looks like it’s floating. It stays in the air on its own then gets lifted towards what he can assume is Mirage’s mouth as Alex points at it with exaggerated movements.

He’s surprised Mirage doesn’t dump the whole thing on his head for the unnecessary drama.

With the kids still gathered, he decides to play some fire tricks as well, crudely-shaped birds born of flames like phoenixes flying around them, swirls and storms and whirlwinds in his hands, if only to redirect the attention from Mirage who must be trying to finish his drink in peace. Relative peace.

The combination of both ‘tricks’ leads to some confusion in the audience as the two spectacles  neither match in powers nor are they at all coordinated. The headlines in the morning might be more accusatory than usual if somebody notices the second pair of footsteps next to his. But he can hear Mirage laughing and he can see the children staring with open mouths and wide eyes in front of him, and maybe it’s fine if the media questions him once more.

He’ll even let Mirage do his thing next week too, if he wants to. Alex can always kick his ass after the holidays. Even supervillains deserve a gift after all, if they’re as nice as he is.

 @rwrb-fests 

Want to support your local writer? Leave someting in the tip jar! Or just comment and reblog!

[am-i-invisible777]

The Dragon Egg

Here’s just something I wrote for creative writing that I decided to share here. The story is about a middle-schooler named Drake who is convinced he’s found a dragon egg. 

“I have a baby dragon,” Drake whispered to the boy next to him. The boy in return scrunched his face up, refusing to look away from the equation he was struggling to complete. Drake scooted in his seat, leaning toward the boy while keeping his eyes on the preoccupied teacher. “It’s technically still in its egg…but it’s bound to hatch any day now.”

“Leave me alone,” the boy mumbled under his breath, tapping the numbers of the old calculator provided by the school. 

“You wanna know where I found it? Wanna know how I’ve been able to keep a dragon egg hidden away from my parents and the government?” Drake continued, his half-completed math assignment completely forgotten as he looked at the uninterested classmate.  

“No. Shut up.” The boy said, glaring as he wrote down the wrong answer to the equation.

“My dad and I were finally going on this hike he promised me a while back by this trail that’s near Mr. Greenshire’s farms. When I stopped to tie my shoe, I looked over and there’s this big blue egg just chillin by this thorny bush. The second I saw it, I knew it must’ve belonged to a dragon. A real dragon, not those domestic ones.” Drake whispered excitedly, moving his hands along as he recounted the story.

“Dragons don’t exist.” He harshly whispered.

“And so I went over to it and put the egg in my bag before dad could even notice. It was lighter than it looked though. I thought it would be around five pounds max but that thing barely weighed a pound. And so when I got home—"

“Drake. This is an independent assignment. Please focus on your own work and stop talking to Alex.” The teacher called out, causing a few students to look at the two boys.

“Finally,” Alex sighed, writing down another wrong answer. Drake sunk back into his seat, a deep frown forming across his face. With a low sigh, he picked up his chewed pencil with no eraser and began drawing dragons in the margins.

 The last bell of the day rung at exactly 2:18 p.m. and Drake never reached the school bus before 2:20 p.m., except for the two times his class was held in the downstairs library. The school bus was old, with torn seats with dull writing on the backside and gum stuck to the sides and underneath. It was always too hot, the only fan being right next to the bus driver. The yellow bus smelled of mothballs and twenty-eight sweaty students. Sometimes it’d smell like the food someone had snuck in, given the fact it wasn’t allowed on the bus, even though the driver never cared. It wasn’t uncommon for some to have to sit three to a seat, four if someone was bringing their friends over, but Drake never had to worry about that. This time, he sat alone near the front of the bus in the seat right underneath the part of the bus that leaked when it rained. He preferred to be alone anyways.

Despite living in the same neighborhood for nearly his entire life, Drake barely knew any of his neighbors or the kids who always rode the bus with him for the past nine years. He tried to make friends, tried to meet and talk to new people, but it never went well. More often than not nowadays he mostly avoided his classmates, wanting to be by himself or with his close friend and next-door neighbor, Kai.

The bus jerked and squeaked as it came to a stop, its doors whining as the driver forced them open. Drake quipped a quick ‘thank you’ in an octave higher than his normal voice, he jumped down the steps and ran to his house.

He had to check on the egg, the dragon egg. His dragon egg. Upon arriving in his driveway, he noticed the absence of two vehicles, meaning that neither parent was home at the moment. Also meaning that his father was either seeing his new girlfriend or buying something for said girlfriend with the money his mother made since she was the only one in the house who actually worked. It also meant he was stuck going to Kai’s house since he left his key inside as he rushed to make it to the bus on time this morning.

He rung the doorbell twice before stepping back, adjusting the straps on his backpack and taking a moment to glare at the large, ugly sign in the front of the yard, the red letters spelling ‘SOLD’ seeming to mock him. Exactly fifteen seconds later, Kai’s older sister answered the door, letting Drake in as they exchanged a small greeting. Maneuvering around the boxes scattered everywhere and running up the carpet steps, he reached Kai’s door, the first one on the right, and knocked on it twice.

“Come in” Kai’s muffled voice called from just beyond the closed door. Drake swung the door open, not bothering to close it again, and gave his friend a smile.

“Hey Kai. How was the dentist?”

“Meh. They always tell me the same stuff. Floss more, drink less soda, yadda yadda. My wisdom teeth are apparently coming in soon. Weird right? Hope I don’t have to get them removed,” they shrugged, laying on the bed with a history book and highlighter beside them.

“I think it’d be funny,” Drake commented, taking his bag off and sitting on the floor. “Like when Hannah got her teeth pulled and she—”

“Was crying by the slushie machine at the gas station while hugging a puppy keychain? Yeah, no thanks,” Kai chuckled, remembering how their sister had behaved after the anesthetics. “So what’d I miss in Howl’s class?”

“Oh, basically nothing. We just started a new unit. Everyone’s confused,” Drake said.

“Good.”

The two were silent for a few moments, Kai preoccupied with highlighting paragraphs and Drake with staring at his phone, waiting for one of his parents to answer his texts.

“…do you think my dragon misses me?”

Kai sighed loudly, rolling their eyes. “Here we go again…”

“No, seriously. At this point it already knows and recognizes my voice. Also! What if it hatches? And I’m not there? I’ve been thinking about taking a few days off of school to tend to it after it comes into our world. I’ll need to train it,” Drake started rambling, fidgeting with his phone and he shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

“Drake, we’ve had this conversation about a million times before,”

“No, you’ve never paid attention when I talk about it!”

“Well, can you blame me?!” Kai sighed and rolled over onto their back, staring at the ceiling. “For the past, like, five weeks, that damn egg has been the only thing you want to talk about. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of telling you something that a ten-year-old already knows!” Kai turned back over to stare at Drake. “Buddy. Listen to me,” they pointed to their mouth. “Dragons. Don’t. Exist.”

“But—”

“No, no buts. What middle schooler still believes in dragons? Fire-breathing, flying, mythical dragons?” Kai asked, frustrated.

Drake remained silent, looking down at the floor as his hands trembled slightly. Although Kai didn’t raise their voice, Drake still felt like he was being yelled at and wanted to crawl away. “…maybe if the dragon could fly…and grew to be the size of a tree…I could come visit you in California…” he mumbled, his voice weak as he tried to keep it from trembling. Everyone hated it when his voice trembled.

Kai breathed deeply, facial features softening as they watched Drake struggle to keep still. “…I’m sorry, but that’s just…impossible.” They whispered. “I’m tired of talking about dragons…I just wanna have a normal conversation with you before I leave…that’s it.”

“…I gotta go home now,” Drake softly said, standing up with his bag. “…I’ll see you tomorrow.” He dragged his feet to the door and exited before Kai could say, ‘yeah, see you tomorrow.’

After leaving, Drake sat at the front steps of his house, still staring at his phone and periodically texting his parents to see when they were going to be home. He reviewed his list of dragon names while he waited, the notes organized by categories such as gender, color, element, and the presence of wings or not. He decided to erase the name ‘Kai’ from the list.

Precisely nineteen minutes later, he received a text from his father saying he’ll be there in five minutes. Thirty-seven minutes after that, his red Subaru rolled up to the driveway. The first thing he did was yell at Drake for forgetting his key. Once his father let him in, he ran upstairs, ignoring the comments made behind him and threw open his bedroom door. Right on top of his bed, wrapped up in twenty-two different blankets, underneath two lamps, was his baby dragon egg. He walked up to it, slowly and tossing his bag to the floor.

“Hey there little guy, didja miss me?” he asked softly, as if he were speaking to a baby. The egg, of course, didn’t answer. He patted the egg gently. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy. The day sucks until you’re there.” He carefully moved to sit on the bed. “You can hatch now, you know. I read that you guys stay in your eggs for two months, and I’ve had you for a little over six weeks now.” He started fiddling with his thumbs. “Of course, you can come out at any time you want little friend. I’d just really really like it if you did.”  

Drake looked over to his desk, a large water tank sitting on top of it. “Is it because you don’t like the tank? I found it at a garage sale for real cheap. I kinda assumed you’d be some kind of water dragon since your egg is blue. Do you need a cage? Or a giant hot rock? My bed? I’ll give it to you!” He thought for a few seconds. “Are you not warm enough? Here, you can have my sweater.” He took off his large green hoodie and wrapped it around the already completely covered egg. “…please hatch soon.”

After talking with the egg for a couple of minutes, the front door opened and closed loudly, meaning that his mother was home. Not even three seconds later did both parents get into an argument about Drake not being able to get inside. He groaned and covered his ears, a futile attempt at blocking them out.

“Why, why, why, why…” Drake grumbled. He stared apologetically at the egg. “I’m sorry about them…again.” He sighed. “Dad says Mom’s just “upset” cause of his new girlfriend and Mom says Dad’s upset cause she’s “winning the legal battle” but I don’t care.” He laid down next to the egg. “Here’s another life tip I forgot to mention lil friend. Never take sides when your parents are fighting…you just end up hurt by both of them, no matter what you do and there aren’t any right answers either.” He hugged one of his pillows to keep his hands preoccupied. “…least you’ll never have to know what that’s like.”

Squeak

“What?!” Drake bolted upright quickly, almost knocking one of the lamps down. A small tap taptap tap could be heard coming from the egg, along with tiny squeaks. “Oh, oh…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you’re hatching!” A mix of panic and excitement bubbled up from his gut as he moved the lamps away. Pulling out his phone and going into the open page he found about early dragon care, he reread the passage he had looked over dozens of times. “Okay, okay, okay, uhh…”

Drake bounced up, sprinting to the corner of his room where a box had been placed. He lifted it up, retrieving one of the hamburgers from underneath. “Okay, so “The Life of a Dragon” s-says you’re gonna be really hungry when you hatch, so I got your first meal right here,” he said, placing the wrapped burger next to the squeaking egg as he carefully unwrapped the blankets. “It’s okay friend, it’s okay. I’m here. I won’t’ abandon you…I won’t hurt you, I swear, I’m not gonna leave you.” He cooed softly. Large cracks were already forming on one spot of the large blue dragon egg. With every tap tap heard, Drake could see the cracks expand and rise. “You can do it!”

“Drake! Come down here, now!”

Drake froze. In all his excitement, he temporarily forgot the verbal abuse that was taking place in the background.

“Uh, j-just a sec Mom!” he called out, rubbing the egg with his thumbs. “C’mon, buddy, come on…”

“Now!” Her demanding voice called out, louder and angry. Drake was too afraid to move for a second, looking from his door to his egg. With a sad sigh, he gave the egg a quick kiss before running out of his door and down the stairs, just in time to see his father stomp away and slam the door, the house shaking slightly from the force. Ten seconds later, a car engine roared.

Drake looked over to his mother, his fingers trembling and foot tapping against the floor. She sat at the kitchen table, rubbing her temples.

“Drake, would you do mommy a favor and call your father. Tell him he’s not allowed back into this house until he starts paying bills and stops eating all our food.” She wearily said, shaking her head. Drake looked up the stairs.

“…Is…um, is that all, ma’am?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice normal.

“Not yet, where has your father hidden the aspirin this time?” she stood up and looked at him, bags under her red eyes.

“Uh…it’s the…s-second cabinet on the left,” he said, pointing in the correct direction. She nodded her head and turned to the cabinet. Drake took this as his opportunity to run back upstairs.

“Drake, sweetie, before you go upstairs,” she called out as Drake was only four steps away from the top. “Please remember to slow down when you speak and talk clearly, we don’t want to have to send you back to speech therapy. And stop shaking around so much.” He looked down at his twitching hands.

“…Yes Mom!” he tried to say as clearly as possible before leaping up and past the four steps.

Afraid that the egg has already hatched and he’s not there for his new baby dragon, Drake practically fell over himself as he tried to hurry into his room. His phone rang—a call from his father—but he ignored it as he threw his bedroom door open, stumbling inside and looking at his bed. There, right where it was supposed to be, were the remains of the hatched egg. A few inches beside the blue egg shells, sitting down and now staring directly at him, was a goddamn Emu.    

[sweetvengeancee]

His anchor (Justin Foley x Reader)

Warnings : Sadddd, a bit angsty (I mean Y/N is kinda pissed off at first?), terrible English.   Word count: 2094. 

A/N: This was requested by @tvfandomsmuttysmut, I’m so so so sorry it took so long, and I’m sorry it sucks. I hope you kinda enjoy it still! Also, sorry if there are any mistakes but I really wanted to post it tonight so didn’t have time to proofread it.

I’d like to thank all of those who sent me cute asks and left comments or reblogged my work. It means a lot to me, really. You’re the reason I keep on doing this.

You can read my first Monty imagine here, my Zach imagine here and my other Justin imagine here.

Sighing, Y/N walked up the stairs. Her head was hanging low, making her hair fall into her red, tired eyes and her feet felt heavy after the long and exhausting day she just had. Justin has been ignoring her for days now, and today she has had enough. It wasn’t the first time that her boyfriend has cut everybody out and disappeared, but usually after a day of two he would call or text her, asking to meet up and explain everything. But it’s been now almost a week, and no one has heard from him yet.

Walking into her bedroom, the girl threw her backpack onto her bed. The fact that her boyfriend didn’t even bother to send her a single message in five days angered her. The only thing that kept her from losing her mind was the little check sign and the word ‘seen’ next to the texts she had sent to him. But he never cared to reply to any of them and so she was done trying to get in touch with him, deciding to give him space if it’s what he really wanted. He was probably staying at Bryce’s pool house again anyway. Or so she thought. She couldn’t really know as she despised the baseball player and never talked to him. But as Friday came, she couldn’t help but worry – he had missed a full week of school and that had never happened before.

Checking her phone for the umpteenth time, Y/N groaned as the only notification she had was a message from Jessica reminding her of their girl’s night at her place. She texted her back quickly, promising to be there at 9 before locking her phone just as her mother called her for dinner from downstairs.

The girl couldn’t even focus on the conversation her parents were having as her mind was somewhere else. She tried hard not to think about Justin anymore, but she couldn’t help it. Even thought she was stubborn and didn’t want to show it, she was extremely concerned.

Last time she saw her boyfriend was on Sunday afternoon, exactly five days ago. And he seemed just fine. They went to the park and Justin was his giggly self, which left her even more confused when the following day he did not turn up at school, and did not pick up her calls. Y/N even decided to show up at his place, hoping to see him there. But it was his mother who opened the door, claiming that her son was not home and sending her off. She checked his friends’ houses as well – Zach’s, Alex’s, even Monty’s. Being concerned and knowing that Y/N would not check Bryce’s place, Zach helped the girl out and did it himself. To say that he was surprised when he did not find his best friend there would be an understatement, as Bryce’s pool house was his go-to place when he had some problems, whatever they were.

Deep in thought, the girl pushed the food around with her fork on the plate, it getting cold. Her mother quickly noticed her daughter’s unusual behaviour, but knew better than to bring it up. So she let Y/N leave the dining room early, even thought she had barely touched her dinner.

Walking back into her bedroom ready to change clothes and head to Jessica’s for the night, the girl was so consumed in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed the open window, nor the boy she had been looking for for days sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. He watched her going through her wardrobe for a while before clearing his throat, finally catching her attention.

Y/N’s eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t even know what she was feeling. Was it surprise? Anger? Relief? Probably all of those at once. Justin slowly stood up, taking cautious steps towards the almost shaking girl.

“Hey babe.” He said calmly once he was standing in front of her. But she didn’t answer right away and the silence was killing him. He was expecting her to be mad. She had every right to. But he hoped that the joy from seeing him again would overcome the anger. It clearly didn’t, as the girl sent a glare in his direction.

“Hey?” She whispered-yelled, annoyance apparent in her voice. She pushed the door to her bedroom closed with her heel before turning to him again. “Hey?!” She repeated, this time louder as she approached him.

“Look, let me-” Justin’s hand went to grab hers but the girl moved away. He tried to meet her gaze but she avoided it, her eyes glued to the floor. It made his heart ache to see her so closed off, and it hurt even more to know that he was the reason why she was acting this way.

“No, Jus.” She cut him off, her voice trembling. “You disappear for a week, ignore me for days and now you come here and expect me to… to what, exactly?” She asks a little out of breath, her eyebrows furrowed. “To throw myself at you? Tell you how much I missed you?” The girl took a step back and sat at the edge of her bed, her elbows resting on her knees as her head fell into her opened palms.

“Baby, no, I’m-” The blue-eyed boy tried again, only to be stopped by a scoff coming from his girlfriend.

“Where the hell were you, Justin?” She asked, her head shooting up and her eyes finally meeting his dull ones. However, Y/N’s face softened at the sight in front of her – Justin looked so weak, so broken. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes red with dark bags underneath. He seemed tired, as if he hadn’t slept for days. Y/N examined his face, her gaze then slowly moved down to his neck. Her eyes widened as she noticed the bruises on his neck – they were finger shaped.

Justin seemed to notice it, as his lower lip started trembling and his eyes slowly filled with tears. This time, it was Y/N’s heart that broke. She shot up from her bed and ran into him, wrapping her arms around his shaking figure.

“Baby, what happened?” She asked after a while, her fingers playing with his hair in a soothing manner while her other hand ran up and down his back, trying to calm him down.

"It’s just-” The boy started but was unable to continue. His quivering voice caused his girlfriend to tighten the grip she had on him as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Y/N soothed, placing a gentle kiss to his temple. “You’re okay.” She reassured, slowly moving the both of them back toward her bed until they both sat on it.

“Seth is back.” Justin mumbled after taking a long breath, pulling away from the girl to see her reaction. Her jaw clenched slightly as her hands moved to grasp at the blanket they were sitting on. She squeezed, hard, trying to get her anger out on it without Justin noticing. But the boy saw her tense up, he saw her knuckles turn white and he saw a grimace form on her usually soft features.

“Did he do that to you?” She asked, her voice soft and calm although deep inside she was fuming. She saw him nod his head slowly from the corner of her eye, which made her sight and close her eye. Her hand moved up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to get involved… again.” The boy explained, playing with his hands that were resting on his lap.

Thinking back to the last time something like this has happened, the girl groaned. It happened almost two months ago – her boyfriend came to her after a fight with his mother’s boyfriend. Bruises and scratches covered his face and Y/N just couldn’t control herself. She confronted the man the following day, going to Justin’s apartment when he wasn’t there. Seth had laughed in her face, called her names and made her leave.

“And your mom?” Y/N asked, making the boy bite on the inside of his cheek uncomfortably.

“She…” A new wave of tears cut the boy off. He threw his head back to prevent them from falling but a few escaped. Y/N was quick to take care of that though, cupping Justin’s face in her hands and wiping the tears away with her thumbs. “She chose h-him.” The basketball player continued, chocking on his words a bit.

Her hands never left his face as she threw her leg over his, straddling his lap. She made herself comfortable, moving his hands around her waist to which he responding immediately, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N caressed his cheeks with her fingertips gently until there were no tearstains left, her eyes glued to his. She knew words would not help him, but her presence would – so she was going to give him just that. Bringing her arms around his neck, she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder, as he did to her. They sat on her bed in silence until his breath slowed down to its normal pace.

“Thank you.” Justin mumbled into her neck, causing her to giggle. A small smile appeared on the boy’s lips for the first time in days.

“I love you.” Y/N said, pulling away from him and looking deep into his eyes. She could stay like this forever, she thought.

“I love you too.” Justin leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to her soft, pink lips. But the kiss did not last long as the girl squealed and pulled away, giggling. He raised an eyebrow, looking his girlfriend up and down to understand her weird demeanour. His lips curved into a bigger smile as he looked down to her waist where his hands help on her sides and he finally understood. He squeezed once more, checking if it was really what caused the girl to laugh – and it was.

“S-stop!” Y/N groaned, her hands moving down to cover his, begging him to stop tickling her.

“Only if you give me another kiss.” He said, halting his movements. The girl rolled her eyes jokingly at him before sealing their lips together in a slow kiss. A kiss so different from the ones they usually share – it was delicate yet passionate, filled with feelings and not lust.

Breaking away, Y/N placed a gentle kiss to his nose and rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed shut as she nibbled on her lower lip.

“You’re staying with me.” She whispered, her hands grasping at his flannel shirt. Justin wasn’t sure if it was a question, or an order, but he didn’t really care as he didn’t really want to go back home. All he wanted to do was to cuddle his girl all night long.

“Yeah, I’m staying with you tonight.” He agreed, his hands moving up and down her back slowly.

“No,” Y/N said, opening her eyes but not moving away. “You’re staying with me for as long as you need to. I’m not letting you go back there while he’s here.”

“Okay.” Justin nodded slowly, accepting her offer. He did not need to be asked twice. He knew it wouldn’t be much of a trouble as Y/N’s parents loved him almost as much as she did and they were very much aware of his situation at home. They have even offered for him to stay with them a couple of times already, but he always kindly declined, saying that it wasn’t that bad and that everything would go back to normal soon. This time, he wasn’t so sure.

Kissing him one more time, the girl slowly got off his lap, making her way over the armchair he was sitting in only minutes ago. She took his bag that was lying next to it and started taking his clothes out of it, putting them in a drawer instead.

Justin watched her lovingly in silence. His heart felt warm and, for once, her felt at ease. He gave up on trying to figure out how such a wonderful girl fell for a guy like him a long time ago, now focusing on their happiness instead. She was his rock, his anchor, and he was so glad he had her in his life, as he didn’t know what he would have done without her in moments like these.

The end is crap as per usual, hah.

Let me guys know what you thought of this!

Tags

@miles-heizer-in-ur-panties, @bicuriousjensn, @xbarrjallenx

[urfavepisces]

Birthday Surprises

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,250 (i know, sorry lol)

Warnings: Fluff, alcohol mention and that’s it (:

A/N: This is my late birthday gift to @evansstackie !💖 Love you Jas and I hope you like this and also I had to sneak in @greedysforloves and myself into it as well (:

Bucky wasn’t good at planning things. He was more of a ‘go with the flow’ type of person and he never really figured out why but it did start to become more apparent that it was because he didn’t want any chance of disappointment happening. Things had a tendency of not going the exact way he wanted when he strategically planned things. However for this occasion, he was more than willing to forgo all of that.

It was your birthday and he wanted you to spend it being happy and surrounded around people you loved. That meant gathering up who was in the tower at the moment and holding an impromptu meeting twelve hours before it was your actual birthday.

“This better be important, I was about to beat my best score.” Sam grumbled beside Steve who had his eyes trained on his iPhone.

“Video games can wait Sam. Look, it’s Y/N’s birthday tomorrow and we’re going to do something special for her.” Bucky gave Sam a pointed look.

The word birthday had everyone perking up in their seats and paying more attention to Bucky.

“Now that I’m on board with. What are we talking? A party? Ya’ll know I know how to throw a bomb ass party?” Sam was already pulling out his phone, ready to send a mass text to his contacts but Bucky grabbed it from his hands.

“No. I’m sure she just wants to spend it with just us anyway, if there’s a whole bunch of people she doesn’t know, she probably won’t like it.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair.

“Parties can be fun Barnes and I’m sure she’d be happy to have some. She’s been working on that damn report of hers for the past two weeks.” Natasha chimed in.

Parties weren’t Bucky’s thing and he sure as hell didn’t know where to start. He was much better at doing one on one activities.

Steve could sense the anxiousness radiating off of his best friend, “How about Sam and Tasha plan the party. We’ll all chip in. Buck you can plan a day out with Y/N and then when we’re ready here we’ll send ya text then we can surprise her. What about that?”

That’s why Bucky loved Steve, he was always good with coming up with plans and delegating out tasks. It came with his position on the team.

Sam patted Steve on his shoulder, “And that’s why you’re the captain, Steve.” He winked at him but Steve knew better, he was poking fun at him.

“That sounds great Steve.” Bucky smiled at him before Sam and Natasha broke off to plan out the night’s festivities.

Everyone else filed out of the conference room just as you rounded the corner.

Huh, that was weird. No one told you that there was a meeting being held.

You entered the room, seeing Bucky sitting on the table, “Hey Bucky, did I miss the memo about a meeting?”

He turned in your direction, blue eyes catching the sunlight that streamed in which made them sparkle and almost had you melting in your spot right then and there.

It was a minor distraction but you recovered quickly seeing that he seemed off before he quickly shot you a smile, “Nah, we were just discussing some unimportant things. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, well I gotta go. See ya later Y/N.” Bucky rushed out of the room.

Okay, there was definitely something going on.

The sound of three rapid knocks woke you up from your deep slumber. You grumbled in your half asleep state, annoyed at whoever decided that it was okay for them to interrupt your precious sleep.

When you finally pulled yourself from your bed and dragged your feet to the door, the knocking had increased and you were about ready to cuss out whoever it was on the other side. But when you yanked the door open and Bucky was there holding up a white paper bag and again smiling at you, any words you were about to say were caught in your throat.

Instead you focused on what was in his hands,“What’s in the bag?” Your voice hoarse from just waking up.

“Breakfast. Happy Birthday Y/N!” Bucky gave you a soft kiss on your cheek.

You were confused, it wasn’t your birthday. Was it?

“Uhh—thanks?” The confused look had Bucky laughing.

“You forgot. Didn’t you?” His eyes were wide with amusement.

You had been working tirelessly on a mission report that kept getting sent back wanting more details. It had taken over your life at the moment and the days started to blend together so it was totally plausible that you had forgotten your birthday.

When you still hadn’t responded, Bucky pushed the bag into your hands and announced that you needed to be ready in half an hour and to wear comfy clothes and shoes.

Bucky disappeared down the hallway as you stood in your room still half asleep and more puzzled than ever. You stared down at the bag in your hands, opening it slowly and it revealed a handful of donuts from your favorite bakery down the street. They were still warm and the sweet smell had your stomach grumbling.

The sight had you more awake than ever and you were off to get ready as you stuffed one into your mouth.

An hour later you two were out walking the streets of New York, Bucky had apparently planned out the whole day. He took you shopping, making it a point to keep you from using any of your money. In his own words, “Today it’s all about you Y/N. I got this.” Bucky was such a sweetheart and this was making your crush on him even stronger than it was before. You didn’t even think it was possible.

After you two were done shopping, he took to a rooftop restaurant where he had made reservations.

The hostess led you to table in the corner, where you could see all of the beautiful skyscrapers and buildings of New York.

When the hostess left you with the menus and said the server would be by to take your orders, you gawked at the breathtaking setting of the restaurant.

“You like it?” Bucky stared in awe at how happy you seemed.

You scoffed, “Do I like it?” You punched his arm.

Bucky scrunched his face up. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“Bucky, we both know that didn’t hurt. I just can’t believe you did all of this for me. Like I’m really just so happy right now.” Your cheeks had never hurt so much from smiling.

That’s what Bucky did though, he always found a way to make you smile.

Before Bucky could respond, a young man came over with a pen and pad ready to take your orders but you didn’t miss the blush that adorned his cheeks.

After you two ate and oh man did you eat, your stomach was stuffed. You were surprised you could move after dessert but you didn’t regret it all. All of the food was cooked to perfection.

As you two exited the building, Bucky’s phone beeped and vibrated in his front pocket of his jeans. He quickly looked at it before shoving back it into the pocket.

“You ready to go home?” Bucky asked.

You definitely were, you were about to head into a food coma and a nap was calling your name.

“Yea but I don’t wanna walk. Can we get a cab?” You leaned onto Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh out loud at you, “It’s literally a five minute walk Y/N.”

You pouted, “I don’t care. I’m too full to do anything right now.”

“Fine, anything for the birthday girl.” Bucky hailed a cab and soon you two were heading back to the tower.

And as you got nearer Bucky started to fidget, he started to bounce his knees and he couldn’t keep his hands still.

You furrows your brows at the sudden change, “You ok Buck?” 

He looked over at you, “Yea I’m good.” He tried to smile but it didn’t come out right but you chose to leave it alone, if he wanted to tell you he would’ve.

Two minutes later you were stopped in front of the tower and as you collected the shopping bags from the backseat Bucky paid the cab driver.

The fidgeting hadn’t stopped even when you two entered the elevator, he was just tapping his foot now and the sound had you looking at Bucky. Studying his frame and facial features to see if maybe it would give you sign as to what was going on but nothing came to mind.

Finally the elevator doors slid open and you two walked silently down the corridor to the living room.

You grabbed onto his bicep, making him stop and turn to you, “Thanks Bucky, I appreciate what you did for me today. You made this birthday really special.”

“Of course Y/N. You deserve to always feel special not just on your birthday.” 

Man he really had a knack for making your stomach do flips with just the way he looked at you. You two stood there just staring at each other, the silence somehow telling you both that this is where things could change between you. Maybe he liked you the way you liked him? I mean he had too, right? He took you out and catered to you on your birthday, what else could it be? Well maybe he’s just being a good friend and you’re reading too much into this. Yea that was it, had to be.

As the moment stretch on, you hadn’t noticed that Bucky had taken a couple of steps towards you and your hand been slipping down his arm until you were holding his hand.

However before anything else could happen, a voice called out breaking the trance you two were in. “What’s taking them so long? I’m ready to start taking shots.” It was Sam.

You looked at Bucky and he looked up to the ceiling, clearly irritated but then he he motioned for you to follow him.

And as you entered the living room, you saw that the couches had been taken out and dance floor had been installed in the middle. The kitchen was fully stocked with food and alcohol. You didn’t drink but the others did so it was mainly for them. Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda and even Thor was here. There was some other people you knew who worked the medical bay, even Lexie and Alex two new recruits who you had built a great friendship with in a short span of time were here and a couple of the lab technicians you were friends with.

“Surprise?!” Sam shrugged before making his way to you and wrapped you up in his arms.

“Happy Birthday kid!”

You were speechless. You just couldn’t believe everyone came together just for you and to be honest this the most that anyone has ever done for your birthday.

You made it a point to be on missions when your birthday came, you were okay with not celebrating it but since you were working so hard on the report, you had completely bypassed the fact it was indeed this month.

When Sam stepped back, everyone else got in line to give you a hug and wish you a happy birthday. Steve was the last one in line, “I hope today is everything you hoped it would be Y/N. You deserve it.” The sweet words made you tighten your arms around his tiny waist.

When you two separated, you thanked everyone and soon the party was in full swing.

After being dragged out to the dance floor by Sam and actually enjoying it for once, you tapped out after an hour and Lexie took your spot. You always knew she had a thing for him, she denied it but what you witnessed right now definitely said otherwise. You passed by Alex who was leaning on Steve’s shoulder, those two were definitely a thing but she swore nothing was happening but you had caught them kissing last week. It made you happy to see everyone else enjoying themselves but you were missing someone.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since you walked into the living room and that was two hours ago. You went into the kitchen and fixed yourself a plate with a couple of slices of pizza.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Bucky’s voice made you turn around. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest.  

“This is honestly too much, like I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much love before. Thanks again.” You took another bite for your pizza.

“Of course, anything for you.”

You decided that now was a good time as any to let Bucky know how you felt for him. It could be the fact that you were on cloud nine because of all the festivities but it was also because you were ready for it to be out in the open.

“You wanna go out to eat sometime, you know like a date?” Wow, you hadn’t stuttered or said something weird. A point for you.

You were ready for the rejection that was coming, he’d probably let you down easy. Bucky was a good guy like that.

Bucky laughed, “I was literally about to ask you out but yes I’d love to.”

Without a doubt this was the best birthday ever.

[erinelezabeth920]

It’s Not About the Bathrooms

A few months ago, back in maybe February I went to a Seattle concert with my boyfriend, cousin and good friend from graduate school. Before the show we had stopped in at a YMCA fundraiser for a city community center, a small building in a growing urban neighborhood with garden plots that also houses the youth outdoor program I work for during summers. The theme was Cascade Royale (cunningly named after the title of the building, Cascade People’s Center), a play on James Bond. So, that rainy Seattle night, I put on a long dress, my boyfriend had on a suit, my cousin and friend also were dressed up. On the way to the fundraiser we went out for Ethiopian food in the Central District, squished into a the corner small cafe with injera and honey wine, pretending it was a midwinter psuedo-adult sort of prom. It was fun, one of those chiller mid-20s city nights with close friends, tinged with the edge of a new adult heavy tiredness, but still electrifying the memories of a freedom of youth. After the event, featuring champagne, popcorn, mock gambling and a photo booth in the best sort of low budget non-profit way possible, we drove up highway 99 to the Nectar Lounge, a concert venue in the quirky north Seattle neighborhood of Fremont, in time to catch a show my favorite local funk band. It was fun to walk into the packed concert venue in our formal attire, grabbing a drink just as the band began to play. They are always fantastic, a twelve piece band with crazy energy enough to break the Seattle freeze and get people dancing. I was feeling pretty tired from working and graduate school, and feeling kind of overwhelmed by the amount of people on the dance floor, so I sat off to the side at one of the tables, listening. Eventually, given the beer and the water I was drinking to counteract, I really had to pee. I left my boyfriend at the table with my drink, got up and walked to the back of the venue, pushing my way through bodies toward the restrooms. Quick glance showed the men’s line empty and the woman’s line 10+ or more. I sighed, an all too common sight. My eyes began to water. See I have this weird bladder condition where it’s actually really hard for me to hold in my pee once I have to go. It’s kind of like uncontrollable muscular spasms, and I have to sit down until they pass. It’s always happened since I was little, and all of my best friends know that when my eyes start to water that I need to get to a bathroom pretty immediately. An ex-boyfriend even used to call them “pee-mergencies”.  So essentially the long line wasn’t going to work. I looked over at the men’s room, empty of a line, and felt an almost physically sick wave of shame wash over me coupled with bodily fear for myself as a woman. I’ve done it before, used the “other” bathroom, and it’s always hard every time. But hey, this is Seattle right? Land of of the progressive hippies. So I steeled myself up. I hardened my eyes, stood tall in my long dress, left my place in the woman’s line and walked what I hoped was confidently toward the empty men’s room door. A few woman clapped from the line behind me. I felt stronger, that I would be successful. Suddenly, a huge figure moved in front of me, with a black t-shirt that said “BOUNCER”. He crossed his arms. My body deflated. My eyes filled with tears, real ones, not induced this time by my bladder. My confidence was in a million pieces on the dirty, sticky floor. 

”Sorry,” he said. “No women allowed in here.” I want to say that my eyes blazed fire. I was to say that I stood up tall and told him that by denying the full occupancy rights to bathrooms, you are robbing me of the power of my body. You are denying the essential right to females because the assumption of an equal public bathroom space is gender equality, because it’s actually not. And if a woman happens to takes longer to fix her makeup in the mirror, it’s because society has taught her that if her image isn’t impeccable she is not worth it in the eyes of other. That her face paint is a mask to hide the fact that she has been taught for generations that she is not good enough, and her self-worth is based on the opinion of men. And, speaking of weakness, it is not actually a fact of woman “weakness” that we have to pee more often, BECAUSE DID YOU KNOW THAT WOMEN’S BLADDERS ARE ACTUALLY SMALLER THAN MEN’S TO MAKE ROOM FOR THE UTERUS? So fuck you bouncer, and every other man who has ever dug at his girlfriend/ wife for having to pee on the road trip, calling her a “typical woman.” TYPICAL DAMN RIGHT, so pull the fucking car over if you even dream of wanting kids to fulfill a continuation of your egocentric needs. Or realistically, maybe we’ll just drive the cars in the first place.

But I didn’t. I maybe managed a little burn side eye glace, but I hung my head and walked back slowly to the line of woman who parted sympathetically like the red sea to let me back into their loving, broken tribe. 

“It’s okay,” one of them patted me on the shoulder. “It was such a good try. I thought for sure you would get in.” “This place always has that problem,” another said. “It’s ridiculous. Just make more stalls.” I nodded and tried to smile. My confidence was still being ground at my feet by heels and boots, mixed with gross beer stains and dirt.  A few minutes later, my cousin walked up to the restrooms. She is the icon of my life, younger than me by a few years but raised on the West Coast with a strong independent, progressive mindset and headstrong voice that cuts through anything. She took one look at the long women’s line and strode to the men’s door with no hesitation. The bouncer stepped in front of her, arms crossed. I saw her eyes flash. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, knowing what was coming.

“But, WHY?” I heard her demand, standing tall waving her hand toward the women’s line. The bouncer leaned down and said something I couldn’t heard. “UNCOMFORTABLE?!” she almost yelled. “The men feel UNCOMFORTABLE?! What about all of us?!” He looked around shiftily but didn’t waver. She said a few more things I didn’t hear, and then strode back to the women’s line, eyes on fire.  “APPARENTLY,” she said to me and others in line with an exaggerated look back at the bouncer. “The men feel uncomfortable with women in their bathroom. Well excuse us, let the woman just stand aside then for these poor men! It’s not like we’ve been made to feel uncomfortable around men for the last 200 years. God forbid we take away your precious comfort.” The other women in the line nodded some smiling, others not, eyes hard.

I finally managed to pee, and walked back to the table, shaken and hurt. My boyfriend asked what was wrong. I told him a little of what had happened. He shook his head sympathetically, angrily, but I couldn’t snap out of my daze, even when the funk band played their fire cover of “Deborah” by Beck and he grabbed my hand as we all got up to dance.  On the drive home my cousin, slightly beer buzzed and irate, ranted about the injustice of the bathroom incident from the back seat. “Do even they know what they’re doing? Do they know that by putting a bouncer in front of the men’s room they’re taking staff away from the dance floor, a place where women routinely get groped and violated? They’re removing protection from the women’s bodies to help the men feel more comfortable in theirs. Oh, I’M SORRY that the women have to get their asses grabbed by drunk jerks on the regular just because you don’t want people to see your tiny dicks”

I stared out the window listening silently as she talked, watching the rainy streets go by. My insides were still burning, a confused mix of anger and shame. My other friend chimed in, and my wonderful boyfriend drove and sympathized, agreeing with everything and apologizing for the hierarchical social systems created by his gender, which unfortunately he so often feels he has to do. He finally dropped her and my friend off at their apartments, yelling goodnight before heading home silently in the rain. 

Apparently though, we were not the only one who had problems. Fast forward to spring two months ago, when I had finally gotten over my beef with the Nectar Lounge and bought my boyfriend surprise tickets to a bluegrass full cover show of Paul Simon’s “Graceland.” (Can you say ‘things white people like’ for 500, Alex?) My cousin joined us too. We arrived at the venue before she did, so my boyfriend sent her a photo of the shiny, newly added bathroom on the second floor, specifically a gender neutral bathroom. I had seen it on Facebook earlier in the week and felt a tiny hint of satisfaction, or validation. She sent back a smiley face text, adding she’d be there soon. And just like that, it’s fixed. Right? 

Wrong. Later that night we were standing off to the edge of the stage listening to the band play their original tunes, before launching into the second set of “Graceland”. I was standing near the side next to my boyfriend listening to the tunes when I felt unmistakably someone behind me firmly tap the left side of my butt with their hand. I stepped aside quickly, almost jumped really as an older guy reached down around me to grab his coat lying at the bottom of the stage. I stood there, my face burning and my insides churning until the end of the song. What I wanted to do was shrug it off, just move on and keep dancing, enjoying my night. But I had just finished a graduate level class on social inequity and standing up to microaggressions. I could only picture my fire eyed cousin, my professor’s reaction if I didn’t say anything. The song ended, a pause before the next one. It was now or never. I felt actually physically sick, my stomach jumping, my breath short (and still do writing this now). I tapped my boyfriend and said I’d be right back. I took a huge breath and turned around, walking a few steps to the man standing next to his friend. “Excuse me,” I said, looking him in the eye. “If you need someone to move, next time tap their shoulder, not their ass.”

He looked at me and stuttered, saying he didn’t mean anything. “I’m just letting you know is all,” I smiled faintly and walked away.  “What was that about?” my boyfriend asked. I explained briefly, then said I’d tell him more later. I felt shaky, breathing fast but proud of myself. I brushed it off. I stood up taller. I even danced a little swing with my boyfriend, practicing some tiny haphazard spins in the crowd, elated and comfortable to be sharing a bodily space with a person I cared for and trusted. Later when he slipped away to grab a drink, I sidled over to center stage where my cousin was standing, dancing like a maniac. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that man approach him, say something and pointed over to me. My stomach dropped. My boyfriend edged his way through the crowd toward us, drinks in hand.  “What was that about?” I asked warily. “Nothing,” he said. “I was just looking for you, because you weren’t there. He came over, pointed you out and said, ‘give her my best.’“ Hm. Intentions seemed good enough. I shrugged, feeling relieved but still wary. 

Later in the evening I was standing in line at the bar when he came up to me. “Hey,” he said. “I wanted to apologize again. I really meant no disrespect, and I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” I told him I appreciated it. I really did. I told him I didn’t think he meant anything, but I just wanted to point it out. He thanked me. Then he said it. “Can I offer you some feedback too?”

My face must have dropped. I know my stomach did, mostly in disbelief. “Sure,” I said lightly, pulling myself together.  “Sometimes when couples dance together in these places it can be pretty rude for other people around them. It gets into their space, you know?”

My optimism faded back into a defeated haze. I was stunned. But I was just too tired at that point to fight anymore. I had done what I set out to do, and so I let it go. I nodded emptily. “Thank you for the feedback” I said in a hollow voice. I nodded again. And I walked away. And that was that .  But I was shaken. I looked around at all the people dancing, wondering how many of the women... thinking of the countless number of times throughout my life a man has come up behind me, imposed himself and his dick right up against my ass, slid his hands on my waist then slowly lower down, all in the pretense of motherfucking “dancing”. And not only dancing, but space efficient dancing when I have nowhere else to go. And how that’s okay. How it’s somehow even accepted. And, conversely how dancing face to face with someone I feel comfortable with, moving my feet, taking up my own space of happiness in the world is my own form of defense against that. I’m not sure if the men in my life have ever understood this, but dancing to me is one of the only times when I can feel completely free and safe in my own body. Can let my female spirit, so often guarded and on edge because of the misogyny of our world manifested into physical intimidation on women’s bodies, finally transcend this. I can finally, for once, just let myself be in full confidence and spirit, free. So, you tapping my ass, because somehow, somewhere society taught you that is okay does not ever, EVER give you the right to criticize me for dancing. For expressing joy in movement for myself in my body, trying to overcome the feelings of violation I’ve known my whole life, to finally be whole in myself and my expressions with another, from a world that is constantly telling me I cannot safely interact with a man without hurting myself in the process. Do not ever take away my joy of trying to feel finally safe and comfortable in my body so you can repair your pride. So please, for every other man out there. I’m not saying you’re a bad person. I’m not saying he was. In fact I’m sure he considered himself a very good person. So here’s the thing: You don’t need a comeback. You don’t need to get on “equal playing field” to feel validated in your criticism, to keep your fragile ego powerfully in check, securing the idea that you are, in fact, still a progressive, compassionate man who holds an important place in society. You can nod silently, contemplating the women in your life who might experience this on a daily basis, and thank me for my words. You can swallow your pride and let your ego burn for the sake of a better world for all of us. Or, in the words of one of my good friends, “just accept the feedback.” Because my own fragile clutches at body security in the misogynistic systems of this patriarchal fucking society have robbed me of my ability to enjoy sit comfortable and happy at concerts in public spaces, letting the music wash through my bones like I was born to, free in spirit from societal chains. And all this because instead I have to be on my guard against the violation of my own body and those of my female friends. 

Meanwhile, the bouncers stand silent guard at the men’s room, just so they’re not “uncomfortable.”

Get it now? So dear men. Dear, dear well intentioned, liberal men who could not possible consider themselves sexist because the women’s suffrage occurred in 1920. Besides, you live in vegan friendly Seattle where minimum wage is 15$ and organic kale grows like manna in neighborhood gardens, PLUS you use re-usable shopping bags and voted for Hillary Clinton. Please understand that equality is not in your ego, but in the feelings and validation of the women in your life who you care about so much. Dear men whom we love and share our lives with. Please consider the outcome of your actions, the intense feelings of shame writhing in our stomachs, and the bodily fear we experience every day at the hands of the opposite gender. Please consider that our biological needs are as valid as yours, and that our bodies are not a storefront mannequin to be handled at will. That we are living, breathing humans capable of intense power, fire in our bellies, and that your ego doesn’t have a place in our struggle for basic bodily equality in this broken world.

And dear Nectar Lounge. Yes you. I haven’t forgotten you. You liberal Seattle establishment promoting funk concerts, dancing hippies with fancy tech jobs and inclusivity. You in the hip white solstice party neighborhood, with the rainbow sticker on your door who streamed the Baker’s Dozen Phish show live the other week. Listen to me. Check your fucking self because if you are putting bouncers in front of the men’s bathroom instead of on the dance floor to protect the rights of women’s bodies, you are no better than the people in the white house passing standards against transgender bathroom rights, so go ahead and burn that rainbow sticker at the door. It’s not about the bathrooms. The was it wasn’t about the water fountains for the Civil Rights Movement, the way it isn’t about the individuals who feel shamed from their own gender fluid bodies, from middle schools to locker rooms to our own public venues in supposedly one of the most progressive cities in the country. These are not issues I can claim identity or ownership over, but only a small extremely privileged, insignificant sliver of ally. I understand this. But at the deepest, most basic level is the robbing of a divine human body the right of expression in our public spaces through fear of discomfort. Fear of change, of exiling those in power, cutting them down to the ground to finally view another with compassion in our basic bodies and human rights. We’ve created bonds and chains when all we were born to do was dance.  So in a way, it is about the bathrooms after all.  That night at the bluegrass show in June, after my conversation with that man at the bar, I walked over the the bathrooms. The men’s line was empty, the door unguarded. I stopped. I looked around. I un-clenched my fists and held my middle fingers down to the sticky floor that once held my broken confidence. I held them to the general concert venue, lines, patriarchy and ego and excuses, hurtling through our the flashing eyed women of this world, one painful spin at a time. I walked in, I peed and I left.