#okay this is probably my last poll for a hot second I just needed to get this one out. because it's me.

[revvethasmythh]

Yes, three of these are from the same conversation, but they all deserved being separate options. Fight over which one hurt more

[finn-m-corvex]

Falling Sleeves

I'm not super happy with the title, but that's okay! This is the second of the stories voted on by the poll, here in the afternoon just like I promised (for me, anyway). I had a lot of fun with this one, and for anyone that managed to read my hoodie headcanons before they got yeeted off the face of the earth there are a lot of little easter eggs in here :). Enjoy, everybody!

Words: 4.3k

No TWs! Unless you don't like bacon pancakes, in which case I'm sorry for your loss.

It was a very lazy morning in the monastery when Cole jolted awake, gasping for air as the sensation of falling washed over him. He grabbed at the sheets, twisting them up in his hands to try and ground himself as his hand went to scrabble at his shirt. The awful feeling was gone only a minute later, but the remnants of his nightmare still clawed at his chest as he struggled to take a deep breath. Finally settling down, Cole sat up and grabbed the hoodie sitting on his bedpost, frowning at the large splotches of paint across the front and throiwng it into the laundry bin.

He tred over the art supplies littering his floor from the night before, picking up his finished canvases and propping them up against his dresser one by one; it always helped him to put things in order after he had a bad dream. Staying up late last night to paint with Lloyd may not have been one of his smartest ideas, but it was the best way he could think to assure his little brother that yes, Cole was here and yes, he was alive.

Even though he very nearly wasn’t.

Almost as if it could hear him, his ribcage started aching under the bandages wrapped generously around his torso, and Cole grimaced when his shirt brushed against the smattering of bruises across his back. Zane had offered to stay with him and ice the bruises overnight, but Cole had declined since he didn’t want to burden his brother. Maybe he should’ve taken the nindroid up on his offer.

“Hoodies never hurt anybody,” Cole mumbled, opening his top drawer to grab one; it would do more than enough to hide the injuries. There were quite a few missing, but that was par for the course. Cole could’ve sworn he just did laundry the other day though.

Grabbing one of his favorites, a dark blue one with ‘KISS THE COLE’ in white letters across the front, Cole put it on as carefully as he could. He still managed to aggravate his injuries somehow, wincing, but they still felt better than they had around a week ago. Still, he should probably see somebody about changing the bandages at the very least.

Before he could think about leaving the room, Nya threw open his door, tossing something onto his bed and then flopping down on top of it. Cole raised an eyebrow at the hoodie she was wearing; it was one of his, a light blue one with various designs in hot pink across the front. He knew for a fact that he just ran that particular hoodie through the wash before the whole Oni debacle. At least he had located one of his missing garments.

“Nya?” he asked, and all she did was groan in response. Now that he was looking, he noticed how wet her hair was, and realized that she had shown up right after she had taken a shower. “Did you need something?”

“Can you help me with my hair?” Nya asked, muffled against his comforter. Eyebrows rising to his hairline, Cole smiled to himself, shaking his head as he walked back to his bed and sat at the top on his pillow

“Of course I can. Come on up here.”

Without hesitating Nya scrambled up to make herself comfortable, sitting between his legs and handing Cole her brush and hair products. Cole grabbed one of the spare rubberbands on his side table that he used for his own hair and got to work.

The time passed in silence, Cole working through her hair while Nya leaned against his propped up knee and scrolled through her feeds. In a way it was the most grounded Cole had felt since that awful day, his feet firmly on the ground of the present rather than dangling in the air of what could’ve been. Having his sister here brought him a sense of peace that he wasn’t sure he would feel for quite some time, and Cole had a suspicious feeling that it was the same case for her. Nya hadn’t asked him to do her hair in years after he taught her how to care for it as she was growing it out, and if he was being totally honest he had missed doing this with her.

Maybe that was why he took his time with it, even though he had the skills to make it happen much quicker.

“There,” he said quietly, putting the brush down and running his fingers through it to check for any hidden knots, listening to her hum of contentment. Nya snuggled closer, perfectly happy with her spot against his chest. “Do you want me to do anything special with it?”

“Can you braid it, please?” Nya asked, and Cole felt his heart swell with emotion.

“Always,” he replied easily, and he let his mind wander as he worked through the repetitive motions. Her hair really has gotten longer, he thought, and his heart ached when he looked for too long at the flowing black locks. They reminded him of his mom’s hair.

Mom. 

Now there was something he hadn’t thought about for a while. Actually, Cole thought about her at least once a day, but it had been some time since he had let himself get lost down memory lane, staring up at the old house on the end of the street that held every memory he had of his long-gone mother. He would linger there on the sidewalk, watching as the lights grew dimmer and dimmer as his memories became more recent, until finally the porchlight would flicker and flash before turning off entirely. Cole could never make himself stay for more than five minutes after the light went out, continuing to walk down the sidewalk to look at the bitter memories that followed.

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Nya joked, hugging his arm close to her. Cole snorted, not pausing in his movements.

“Really? How do you know that?”

“I’ve been with Jay for years,” Nya said, “it’s practically given me telepathy at this point. Now what are you thinking so hard about?”

He hummed to himself, debating on how much he wanted to tell her. “Your hair, it…it reminds me of Mom’s.”

Everything went quiet, but Cole wasn’t afraid of it becoming awkward. He knew that Nya was just gathering her thoughts, trying to think through her next steps as carefully as she could. “Is that a good thing?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Cole asked, genuinely curious, and Nya sighed.

“I-I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to make you sad.”

“I’m not sad when I think about my mom, Nya,” Cole said patiently, tying the rubberband around the end of the braid. It wasn’t his prettiest work, but it would do for right now. “Honestly. It actually makes me pretty happy, she would’ve loved to meet you.”

She would’ve loved to meet all of them, really, and Cole knew that for a fact.

Part of him had spent the past week thinking about what would’ve happened if he had actually perished in the fall, if he would’ve gotten to see his mom again. Would he have been happy to see her? Or her to see him? Would she be disappointed that he had died the way he had, or would she just have been happy that it was a quick way to go? Would she have known his friends, or what happened between him and Dad?

Cole hoped that she didn’t know what happened between him and Dad.

“For what it’s worth, I would’ve liked to meet her too,” Nya said, and Cole kissed the back of her head as a response; he had to stay in the present, and not dwell on the what-if’s. He was here, and he was alive, and that was enough. They didn’t say anything after that, Cole pulling out his phone and looking through Chirp to pass the time while Nya continued to scroll through her various media; from what Cole could tell, she was currently looking at pictures of dragonflies, for whatever reason.

For as much as she liked to say that Jay was the only one with ADHD in their relationship, Cole would beg to differ.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself despite the lack of social interaction. Both he and Nya were people who liked to spend time with people in the same space, sometimes talking but more than happy to just soak up the others’ presence in the room. Cole couldn’t remember the last time Nya and him had done this, laying down together on his bed and doing nothing but enjoying the other’s company.

Until he heard a large growl from Nya’s stomach.

The water ninja blushed, chuckling sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little hungry.”

“Let’s go see if anyone’s making breakfast,” Cole suggested, even though neither of them made any movement to get up. He was extremely comfortable in his current position, except his bottomless pit for a stomach was also starting to rumble.

“C’mon Nya,” he chuckled, gently pushing her off and watching her flop onto the bed with a forced groan. Why did he have such dramatic siblings? “Do you want me to carry you?”

Nya held out her arms without hesitation, and Cole was quick to hook his arms under her shoulders and lift, feeling her legs wrap around him like a teddybear. He moved his arms to be around her waist instead, shivering from her warm breath ghosting over the side of his neck. She hummed contently, shuffling around before sighing.

“Jay’s right,” she said, “this is pretty comfy.”

“Why do you think I do it for him all the time?” Cole started walking towards the kitchen, already feeling Nya’s weight start to drag on his limbs. His ribs ached in protest, and his shoulders were screaming, but dammit his little sister wanted to be carried and he was going to carry her. The walk down the hall wasn’t very long, thankfully, but Cole could already feel sweat starting to gather on his back under his hoodie. Nya tapped her fingers along his back in a familiar rhythm, and Cole focused on the tip-tap-tip-tap that he knew so well from Jay. They really were made for each other.

Initially, he was planning on carrying Nya directly into the kitchen and dropping her off at the table, but Cole had to stop and gape at the scene in the living room.

Kai and Jay were playing one of the Fist to Face games, the second edition maybe, both of them remarkably quiet with their brows furrowed in concentration. Lloyd was nestled into Kai’s side, which is probably why the fire ninja was sitting down instead of jumping around, and the green ninja’s eyes flicked from the TV to his phone; he must’ve been going through his Chirp. Jay had his weighted blanket across his legs, his headphones settled around his neck and hair still messy from sleep. Cole resisted the sudden urge to run his fingers through his best friend’s curls, instead staying stone-still in the doorway,

All three of them were wearing his hoodies.

Was that where all of his hoodies had gone?!

Cole couldn’t even bring himself to be mad about it, especially when how large Lloyd’s black one with a green skull was on him, or how Kai had the hood of his maroon one with a flaming guitar pulled over his head to make his hair look ridiculous, or the way Jay was constantly pushing up the sleeves to his elbows and scrunching up the blue water designs that Cole had painted on with Nya one day.

Instead of saying anything, Cole just walked to the couch, gently dropping Nya into the spot between Kai and Jay. Almost no time had passed before she had thrown her legs over Kai’s lap and into Lloyd’s, putting her head into Jay’s lap just as the blue ninja grabbed a pillow to put under her head. The scene now looked even more bizarre with a fourth hoodie thrown into the mix, but Cole only shook his head and walked into the kitchen.

Only to be greeted by both Zane and Pixal wearing one of his hoodies each.

Someone had some explaining to do.

Zane was mixing up some pancake batter, quietly singing to himself as he was careful to not spill anything on Cole’s Christmas hoodie, the only white one in his collection. Pixal grabbed some bacon out of their fridge, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeves of the royal purple hoodie that he had gotten on his last trip to the local Goodwill. Could he have a single hoodie for even a week before they got stolen?

Noticing him standing there, Zane turned around and gave him a smile. “Good morning, Cole. How are you?”

Staring, Cole finally snapped to his senses once Pixal started looking at him too. “Oh, I’m okay. Didn’t sleep super well though. How are you?”

Pixal frowned. “Perhaps you should go back and get some rest.”

“I’ll be okay, really,” Cole insisted, leaning against the doorframe and stuffing his hands into his pockets to try and hide their trembling from carrying his sister. He was pretty sure that Zane already noticed. “You guys making pancakes?”

“Yes,” Zane said, mixing it up some more. “Jay requested that we try mixing bacon in the batter this time.”

His stomach growled at the mention of bacon, and Cole had to admit that his best friend was a genius and a godsend. “That sounds amazing.”

“We shall see,” Pixal said, eyeing up the bacon with a look of apprehension. “I would trust Jay with my life, but you must admit that he has a less-than-stellar streak when it comes to making dishes.”

“Maybe, but I promise that you’ll like it more than you think you will, Pix,” Cole said, and he hoped to the First Master that he was right. He hated breaking promises. The nindroids shared a look of skepticism before turning back to their respective tasks, Pixal starting to fry up the bacon while Zane mixed another bowl of batter. Cole smelled the meat cooking and had to hold back from letting out a moan at the heavenly scent, instead watching from the doorway as quietly as he could.

“Did you need anything else, Cole?” Zane asked, startling Cole. He had spaced up pretty hard after smelling the bacon. “A drink, perhaps? Breakfast will not be ready for a while.”

“Why are you both wearing my hoodies?” Cole blurted out, and he winced internally at how blunt it was. At least it got his point across.

Zane paused, looking down at his torso in confusion before glancing at Pixal. Pixal did the same thing, eyebrows raising when she saw that yes, her and Zane were both wearing the earth ninja’s hoodies.

“I-I did not realize,” Zane said, meeting Cole’s eyes with a sheepish expression. “Is it a problem? I would be more than happy to change if it is bothering you-”

“No! No, Zane,” Cole hurried to say, seeing the way his brother and sister’s faces were falling with the thought of having to take off the hoodies. There was something deeper going on here. “Please keep wearing them, I was just curious. I don’t mind, seriously.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Cole assured, walking up and giving his brother a big hug. The smell of fresh snow wafted up into his nose as Zane hugged back, and Cole’s chest filled with warmth at how grounding his brother’s embrace was. It always had been and always would be.

There was a loud crash from the living room followed by shouting, and Cole sighed. “I better go check on them. Good luck with breakfast, you two.”

“I do not need luck,” Pixal said good-naturedly, accepting the earth ninja’s quick embrace with a small smile, “but I do need the eggs, if you would be so kind?”

“Anything for you, Pix,” Cole said, going to the fridge and taking out the carton, leaving it on the counter next to the stove for her. The sounds from the living room died down, but Cole still thought that it would be in everyone’s best interest if he checked in, just to be on the safe side.

He didn’t need to worry, as the sounds were just coming from the TV; it looked like his brothers had gotten bored with the game and had put a movie on instead. Belatedly, Cole realized that it was one of his favorite movies, and one that he normally would’ve had to beg and trade chores for. This was suspicious.

Jay had leaned over to rest his head on Kai’s shoulder, his fingers threaded through Nya’s now undone braid (there went all of his hard work) and blue eyes drooping downwards. Kai looked like he was the only one invested in the movie, as Nya and Lloyd both looked like they had started dozing together on the couch. Cole did his best to sit down on Jay’s other side without waking anyone up, leaning against the arm of the couch and bringing one of his legs up to sit on Kai’s thigh and box Nya in. He was more than prepared for Jay to switch sides, the blue ninja plopping his head back onto Cole’s chest and throwing his arms up and over the ravenette’s shoulders. The three of them looked like dominoes that had been knocked over, and Cole smiled as his arms settled around Jay’s torso without even having to think about it.

“Hey Rocky,” Jay murmured, making a pleased sound when Cole leaned down to kiss his forehead. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Bluebell,” Cole replied easily, ignoring the throbbing of his ribs in favor of holding his best friend. “You?”

“Sleepy, but Zane said no coffee this morning,” Jay’s jaw cracked in a huge yawn that had Cole snickering. Jay had definitely been consuming too much of the stuff recently to keep working through the night, so he wasn’t surprised that the nindroid had finally put his foot down.

“Yikes, guess that’s pretty bad for you guys, huh?”

Jay shrugged. “It’s fine, just means more naps with you, right?”

“You know it, Sparky.” Cole said. He asked Kai for one of the pillows at the other end of the couch for his back, and to his surprise Lloyd was the one who tossed it to him. Guess Greenbean wasn’t so asleep after all.

Mulling the same question he had asked Zane and Pixal over in his head, Cole’s curiosity eventually won out, and he finally fluffed up the pillow enough just when Jay grabbed his hand and tugged it to his hair. Cole shook his own head fondly, starting to run his hand through his brother’s curly locks and scratching his scalp.

“Is there any reason why all four of you are wearing my hoodies?” he asked innocently, twirling one of Jay’s curls around his finger. All four of them turned to look at him, and then down at what they were wearing, and Cole watched as each of his siblings’ faces flushed at how easily they had been caught red-handed; Cole knew that they didn’t commit any crimes though.

Jay started playing with the fingers on his other hand that had been splayed across his chest. “We-we missed you.”

Missed him? He had been there the whole time!

“I was just in the bedroom,” Cole said, confused. What was this about?

“Except it wasn’t that long ago when you weren’t,” Lloyd said quietly, and oh.

Oh.

They were scared. Scared of waking up and walking into the living room or the kitchen or even his bedroom and finding all of it empty. Cole felt the tears sting at his eyes, but he was quick to blink them back in favor of pressing another kiss to Jay’s head and nudging Kai’s leg with his foot to reach Lloyd. “Hey now, I’m here. I’m okay. Nothing to worry about, see?”

“Everything to worry about is more like it,” Jay grumbled, and Cole tugged the hood over the blue ninja’s head with a small smile.

“You’re awfully grouchy today,” Cole commented. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Didn’t get good sleep,” Jay murmured. “I was lonely.”

“But you had Nya?” Cole said, once again very confused.

“I didn’t want Nya, I wanted you.” Jay snuggled closer, Nya making a combined noise of protest and offense as he shifted. Cole was worried that she was going to douse them both, but the water ninja just turned over on her other side. 

“I told you to go sleep with him instead,” Nya grumbled, only awake for a minute or so before she was snoring away. “So ti’s your own damn fault you didn’t sleep.

“Of course dear, whatever you say.” Jay’s hand tangled in her hair, a lovesick grin on his face that used to make Cole’s stomach turn, but now he understood it. Sighing, he cuddled closer to Cole’s chest and nudged his ribs. “But we’re all staying right here until I fill my cuddle quota.”

“Really? Is there such a thing as a filled Jay cuddle quota?” Cole quipped, and Jay made a fake sound of annoyance, shutting his eyes and beginning to doze. He heard sizzling from the kitchen and took a whiff, smelling the pancakes as they started cooking. Breakfast would be ready soon.

Kai yawned, stretching his arms above his head and popping his shoulders. “This movie isn’t that bad, actually.”

“That’s what I keep telling you guys!” Cole said as loudly as he dared, not trying to wake Jay up right after he fell asleep. “We should watch it more often.”

“Now I don’t know about that,” Kai ruffled Lloyd’s hair, smiling so Cole knew that he was joking, even if Cole could tell already. “Are you comfortable over there?”

Cole yawned as he thought about it. Sure, his ribs were protesting a tiny bit, and the bruises on his torso definitely weren’t being done any favors, but he couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be than right here with his family. “Never better.”

And those words had never been truer than when Zane and Pixal brought out the food a few minutes later, the smell quickly rousing Jay and Nya as they started fighting over who would have the first bite. They both looked absolutely betrayed when Zane gave the first bite to Pixal, and Jay was only placated when Zane told him that it was to make sure if Pixal actually liked bacon pancakes or not.

Pixal pushed the food around in her mouth with a concentrating look on her face, finally swallowing. Her face cleared, and all six of them watched as her face lit up in delight. “It’s delicious!”

Jay gave a victorious whoop, and now suddenly there were three people clambering for the first plate. Cole was prepared to patiently wait his turn like always, maybe cracking a joke about how the kids had to be fed first, but to his surprise Zane handed him the first plate. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten first plate.

“Thanks, Zane!” he called to the ice ninja as he went back to the kitchen to grab more plates. The tears came stinging at his eyes once again, and Cole pushed them away just as quickly as the first time.

He playfully growled at Jay, who was immediately in his space and trying to snatch his food. “Jay! Get your own!”

“I normally get the first plate!”

“Well you didn’t this time! If you want food so bad then go get your own!”

“But I’m all cozy,” Jay whined, and Cole felt his heart squeezing when he saw the blue ninja pouting. Dammit, Jay knew not to break out the puppy dog eyes with him.

Just as Cole was about to cave, Zane the savior came back with plenty more plates, and Cole watched as Jay dug into his pancakes with the ferocity of a starving animal. He was glad, honestly; it took a couple days after the Oni invasion for Jay to start eating properly again, but Cole was always keeping a close eye to be on the safe side. It was his job as Jay’s best friend and older brother.

And soon enough everything was as it should have been: Kai and Lloyd bickering over the syrup while Zane and Pixal watched from the other side of the couch, Nya snatching pieces of Jay’s pancakes while he wasn’t looking while Jay failed to snatch any of Cole’s. The scene was so familiar, so soothing, and before he could stop them the tears started falling down his face.

He could’ve missed this. He would’ve missed this. And for what? To tell his mom something that he was sure she already knew?

“Hey,” Jay whispered, and Cole jumped when he felt the blue ninja’s thumb swipe across his cheek, “everything okay? Why are you crying?”

Cole let his fork clatter to the plate, reaching up and wiping away the tears with his sleeve. He looked over to see everyone looking at him with concern, Zane and Kai on the verge of getting up with the others close behind. Giving them a watery smile, Cole bumped against Jay’s side.

“I’m okay,” he said honestly, because even though he was feeling a lot right now everything he was feeling was so so good, “I just love you guys, you know that? I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too, brother,” Zane said softly, Kai and Lloyd echoing his sentiment. Cole was waiting to hear Jay say it too when a body collided with his, and his arms came up to hug Jay on instinct. The blue ninja’s own tears were leaking into his hoodie, and Cole freed one of his arms to catch Nya as she came barreling into him too. Both of their movements made his injuries burn with pain, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care.

Because First Master, it felt so good to be home.

[stereax]

Any scorching hot takes on which top team will drop like a rock next season? Or if you're not feeling spicy, any 4 nations thoughts? Could be anything: positional depth/roster speculation/line comps/which team would win the tumblr hotness poll, etc. Personally I'm very curious which Cs stay Cs and which Cs become Ws

I'm not gonna touch 4 Nations yet because I don't know anything about that, especially because, iirc, they only have six players on each roster right now? I don't want to speculate who goes and who doesn't just yet because, knowing my luck, I'm gonna get half the teams injured just talking about that lol.

But! Hot takes on which teams will do WORSE than last season. This, I CAN do! Under the cut!

Now, I don't think any teams will "drop like a rock" - part of the parity of the NHL means that teams that are good usually stay good for a while and teams that are not usually stay not. A Devils-esque complete collapse is only going to happen if there's massive injuries (like the Devils had) and trade hell (like the Devils again had - there was a deal in place for Markstrom a long time back but it got nixed by Flames ownership, for example). That being said...

I think the New York Rangers is the obvious answer here. They haven't added anyone of note (depth defensemen don't count) in a league where just about every other team has gotten demonstrably better. Part of this is due to the issues surrounding moving Trouba's contract, which made them unable to jump on free agents on July 1. This, coupled with the issue of Goodrow and the waivers situation, has shown many across the league that the Rangers organization does not intend to honor NMCs and NTCs, which is a strong blow against them. But they'll still be a good team, partially because of Shesty and Quick and partially because the Metro isn't exactly the best conference in the league. (Only the Rangers, Carolina, and New Jersey seem any good, and Carolina went through its own gutting of its entire second pair, but because they're the Canes they'll make Walker and Gostisbehere Norris candidates. The Isles are mid and didn't address it, the Flyers are stuck between trying for a wildcard and tanking, the Pens have no supporting cast, the Caps just acquired Dubois which is all I need to say about them really, and don't even talk about the Jackets...)

You also have the Vegas Golden Knights, who lost basically all of their UFAs and, due to their cap crunch, didn't gain much from it outside of Alex Holtz, who's a project forward. The Pacific, however, is weak as balls. (Calgary and San Jose will be bad; Anaheim, Seattle, and LA will be mid; Vancouver will be pretty good; Edmonton will be very good.) Simply based off goaltending and defense, as well as very good center depth, Vegas should still be okay enough to make the playoffs, and we all know the famous Vegas Trade can happen too, which always makes it interesting. (In the Pacific, Calgary as well is probably going to take a massive step back. Everyone worth a damn was put out for a fire sale. I'd fully expect them to be in the Hagens sweepstakes. And Seattle's a mess...)

Another team that's gonna have problems is the Boston Bruins. Not that they'll be bad. We know they'll never truly suck. But they've got question marks floating around their lineup, from Korpisalo and Swayman (one was statistically a bottom five goalie in the league last year and the other isn't under contract right now; the point of shedding Ullmark's cap hit was to have a cheap backup like Bussi and not a major question mark with a large cap hit for a backup) to Zadorov and Lindholm (arguably both overpaid and both expected to be top line players; those contracts will not age well) to Marchand (he's not getting any younger and who knows how much he's got left in the tank, especially since this is his contract year). There are going to be some major growing pains. I would not be surprised if they start slow, fire Montgomery, and then still end up as the second seed in the Atlantic.

From the Central, I'm gonna pick the St Louis Blues. They signed Ryan Suter in the year of our Lord Stanley 2024. And took on two cap dumps in Radek Faksa and Mathieu Joseph. That's all I need to say.

Y'know what. Let me just do Way Too Early Predictions again.

This is how I see it. (Atlantic, Central, Metro, Pacific)

Draft lottery: CBJ, CGY, CHI, MTL, SJS

Hockey purgatory: ANA, BUF, OTT, PHI, PIT, SEA, STL, WSH

Wildcard tossups: DET, LAK, MIN, NYI, TBL, UTA, WPG

Playoff teams: BOS, CAR, COL, DAL, EDM, FLA, NJD, NSH, NYR, TOR, VAN, VGK

I would not be surprised if both WCs in the East go to Atlantic teams and both WCs in the West go to Central teams. At the same time, I'm having a really hard time seeing any bona fide Cup contender. Last year, from literally last July, the Panthers seemed to be head-and-shoulders THE team to beat. This year, there's nobody like that, at least to me. Everyone has some question marks.

"But Edmonton - " Edmonton is in cap hell, still having to resign Broberg and Holloway and already being over the cap. Plus, Skinner is not that good. Plus, Ekholm and Bouchard can't carry the defense. Plus, McDavid and Draisaitl can't carry the offense. Give me a break.

But yeah. Sorry for the delay here! I hope this answers your question - let me know if you have any other questions or follow-ups :)

[valkyrie-night-103]

I will butt in one more time despite me saying I need sleepy-time (Still do) But cleaners prize corner sounds like some weird cross between chuck e cheese and wrestling.

If that is the case, please promise me you will marry me someday, if it is not then also do that please Xx

Cleaner’s prize corner is a working title, but you’re not wrong. I might redo the poll as well to include this option, as I think it’ll probably work out pretty popular if I know my demographic (which is not a sure thing)

Cleaner’s Prize Corner

Kenny is a famous video game streamer. He’s not exactly a household name, but he’s damned close. He gets recognised sometimes and has a very dedicated fan base that are known for being a little… overzealous, at times. Sometimes it’s nice to be just himself, with no expectations placed upon him- and so he goes to a local arcade for a change of scenery.

Adam Page works at the local arcade. The problem is, he’s not really a massive video game person. He’s always been awful at any game he tries, despite having an interest. He was hired to perform basic fixes on arcade machines, and maybe watch the cameras to make sure no patrons were messing with anything. When the company changed hands, staff cuts were made, and now Adam spends his working life cowering behind the prize counter, praying that nobody asks him for anything other than the toys and candy that tickets are exchanged for.

Despite enjoying the classics, Kenny always plays enough ticket games to get a small prize every time he visits. Which is more often than he’d care to admit. Ticket games are a money sink, he knows that, they have to be profitable, after all- but he really likes chatting to the cute guy at the prize counter, and he’d feel weird if he wasn’t getting anything? Talking to Adam makes him feel like just some guy, for a change. He gets to be his awkward self, and he likes not having to put on a show for someone. It’s not like he can’t afford the cost of earning 50 tickets.

Every time he wants to ask him out, he overthinks his way out of it. So he keeps coming back and winning tickets, and getting the same prize every week.

Adam is deeply confused by this new regular. The guy comes in on Monday and Thursday every week during the school day, so the arcade is dead quiet. He plays Street Fighter and DDR for a couple hours, but before leaving, he earns the exact amount of tickets to exchange for a single red kazoo. It’s been 3 months. He must have at least 20 by now. Where is he putting them? Does he have a kazoo orchestra? What would a kazoo orchestra even sound like?

He’s broken from his weird thought train by the regular’s voice. He smiles at him, hands over the tickets. They were running low on kazoos, so he set the last one aside for him.

“I hope the colour is okay.” He says, handing over a hot-pink plastic noise-making device. He’s glad it’s in safe hands. He’s been working in the arcade long enough to know that given to a child of the correct age and determination, a kazoo can unleash torment the likes of which the masses have never seen, horrors only witnessed by teachers, tired single mothers, and customer service staff for family-friendly franchises.

“Neat!” Kenny says, smiling big like Adam has made his day. He has nice teeth, Adam thinks. Is that a normal thing to think about another human being?

“So, uh, I know you’re working right now and stuff- I don’t want to be rude or anything, I just- would you like to get a coffee with me this evening?” Kenny asks, stumbling over his words a little. “I mean- tomorrow morning. Drinking coffee in the evening is a bad idea. I mean, unless you work the night shift…” he rambles on for another 30 seconds until he realises that Adam has handed him something. He looks down at the fun-dip packet, and sees Adam’s number neatly written on the front, with an added smiley face.

“There’s a little bakery, around the corner from here.” Kenny says. “I’ll send you the address.”

Adam initially gave the regular his number out of curiosity. But the more he listens to the regular, Kenny, speaking, the more he genuinely likes him. He’s funny and a little awkward, and very sweet.

During the conversation, Adam admits he’s awful at video games, so Kenny invites him over, offering to teach him how to play any game he wants, provided Kenny has it already. A new game would take forever to download and he’d probably have to mess with his storage again.

Adam is awful at first, and he makes that clear to Kenny. Kenny admits he plays video games for a living, and Adam genuinely thinks that’s cool. He doesn’t quite tell him everything yet, like the extent of his following, but it’s a better start than any relationship since… well. I’m sure you can work out who.

Adam actually starts getting the hang of it, and Kenny tries to say as much, but his words get all jumbled and he calls him Hangman. It strikes them both as extremely funny for a reason they couldn’t explain if they tried. And somehow, the nickname sticks, though it’s often shortened to Hanger.

The tension finally breaks and they kiss, agreeing to start dating, but also to keep the relationship under wraps while they work things out.

Weeks later, Hangman is still pretty bad at video games. It’s actually a nice change of pace for Kenny. Hangman loves it when Kenny rambles to him about video game lore, too. Kenny opens up more about his job and confides in him about some of the stress that comes with it. Hangman is supportive and sweet about it.

Hangman falls out with his roommate, Adam Cole, and gets kicked out, having exhausted all of Cole’s goodwill that had allowed him to stay in the first place. He turns up at Kenny’s door because he doesn’t know where else to go. They’ve been together a little while now, so Kenny suggests he moves in. It’s not like he hasn’t got the space. It’ll be nice for the house not to feel empty for a change.

One day, Hangman pokes his head in to bitch about Kenny not putting his socks in the laundry basket, not realising he’s already streaming and the mic had picked up everything.

The internet, naturally, blows up about it.

[general-du-vallon]

Change of plans, this was going to be 8 parts but I think I am done with it so this is the last bit :) Aramis and his babies, modern Portamis au where Aramis has 3 (only 3 per the poll really) babies, he meets porthos. part one is here.

“Can I see you sometime, alone, in the daytime, without any of this lot?” Aramis asked Porthos.

He was lying on the sofa, Porthos had continued on his saviour streak and ‘what’s next for damage control?’ roll, scooping up Hugo, Louis, Marie and Luc, Grace. Paulina was staying, she was eighteen though and had no need for collecting or saviours. She’d only been with Aramis a few months, the daughter of an old, old friend he’d thought dead, who needed help. Unofficial, quiet. She’d come with her mother sometimes, too, afterwards. And then as she grew up, she’d come visiting. It was nice. Now everyone was in the kitchen with Paulina helping her make dinner, drawing, or something else quiet and contained, and Porthos was sat on the floor with his back to the sofa looking through homework and listening in on the kids.

“Hm?” Porthos said, frowning down at someone’s maths.

“I want to see you,” Aramis said. “Alone.”

Porthos looked up at him, surprised.

“To dump me? Are we even dating yet?” Porthos asked, frowning.

“To talk,” Aramis said. “How long do you have Grace, this time? Though if I find a babysitter they could probably have her too.”

“Dunno, Flea’s gone off to Manchester, thinks she’s found Charon. Haven’t told you much about that, have I?”

“No. Maybe another time.”

“Yeah, no, just thinking about what context you need. No knowing how long she’ll be, and if he’s there and comes back, well, he technically lives at mine. Or I live in his flat. Grace stays with me then too sometimes. Depends,” Porthos said. “I dunno.”

“Okay. A babysitter who’s happy to keep an eye on all four of the little ones,” Aramis said.

“And Beep, just in case,” Porthos said.

“Oh yeah, mustn’t forget the cat. Maybe Athos and Sylvie would do it. I’ll ask,” Aramis said.

“Daft question, old thing, never mind. But, am I in trouble?” Porthos asked.

“No. If I had something like that to say, we could have that sort of conversation in the hallway. Perfect place, a hallway,” Aramis said.

“Not fucking you in the hallway,” Porthos said equably, going back to the maths. “Okay. I’m probably free more days than you at the moment, I’m just doing Tesco, my degree stuff is flexible. Pick a few dates, once you find a sitter.”

Aramis shut his eyes, a headache growing. He felt like shit, but it wasn’t as bad as it might have been. Something crashed in the kitchen and Porthos rolled up to his feet, Aramis opened his eyes and saw him get up, graceful and powerful, all muscle and certainty of his own body, moving out to the kitchen to investigate. Aramis waited, heard laughter, and shut his eyes again figuring Porthos could manage for a bit.

Once Athos had agreed, Aramis realised he’d have to formulate a plan. He considered taking Porthos to a cafe or something for about two seconds flat.

Once the children were all ensconced with Athos, Grace looking a bit concerned but relaxing when she realised Luc and Paulina were going to be around, and Hugo had climbed into Athos’s lap, Aramis commandeered Athos’s car. He had to hot wire it to start it, Athos would never lend out his car, especially to Aramis.

“Er,” Porthos said.

“What? You want to walk?” Aramis said. “It’s far.”

“Don’t want to walk. Don’t want to piss off a man willing to babysit, how’ll we ever have sex if he stops saying yes to your requests?” Porthos said.

“Good! You’re a man who thinks with his dick, absolutely my kind of man,” Aramis said.

“I am not ever fucking you in that fucking hallway!”

“You just called it a fucking hallway, aka a hallway for fucking.”

Aramis wasn’t actually invested in having sex in the hallway, but he was endlessly amused that Porthos kept interpreting him as angling for it. The more Porthos said it, the more Aramis took it on as a challenge and badge of honour that was his for the taking, if he was just persuasive enough. He whistled as he drove, one hand on the wheel, window open. Porthos sighed and sprawled against the car window, watching Aramis. 

He didn’t ask where they were going, he just followed on when they pulled in and parked up, hand groping for Aramis’s hip. Aramis skipped out of the way and Porthos followed a bit of a distance instead, hands in his pockets, pace steady and unhurried. He came to a halting, skipping stop when Aramis pulled open the big church door. 

“What?” Porthos whispered, tiptoeing in after Aramis, taking off the bandana that was wrapped around his hair today, crossing himself. “Thoughts I was having when I stepped in here! Aramis!”

Aramis laughed. Porthos’s whisper echoed. He was lucky no one was in there today, if it had been a day the father was in with a sermon it would have been all the old folks turning their heads to tut. As it was, the church was empty, so Porthos’s dramatics went un-noted by anyone other than Aramis. Aramis noted happily, then wandered over to the font, running his fingers over the stone, eyes still on Porthos, watching him tentatively moving further into the church, looking around, and up. He whistled when he saw the ceiling.

“You brought me to a church to show me a ceiling?” Porthos asked, still at his ridiculous non-whisper.

“I didn’t actually,” Aramis said.

Porthos turned to him, out of place and awkward, not uncomfortable though. Baffled. Aramis let his smile grow. Porthos huffed out a breath, pulled the funniest face, and then held out his arms, at Aramis’s mercy. Aramis liked that. He took Porthos’s arm, linking them together tight, and strolled them down the nape to the altar, and above the altar the old, old wood carving. Jesus on his cross, a beautiful piece of art, the cross not in the best condition, the wood showing through. Aramis sometimes thought the wood was his favourite part. Dark with varnish. There was paint still, faded. Red on his hands and feet and side, his face from the thorns.

“Fucking hell,” Porthos muttered.

“Right?!” Aramis said, pleased by Porthos’s stunned reaction. When he turned, Porthos was looking at him though not the statue. “What?”

“You’re off your rocker,” Porthos said. Aramis grinned, shrugging. “You said you wanted to talk, I thought, I dunno. A coffee shop.”

“Thought about it,” Aramis admitted, tucking Porthos’s arm into his, looking back up at Jesus, and then twisting to cup Porthos’s face and kiss him. “Shall we?”

“I am not fucking you in a church either, Aramis,” Porthos said, back to his hissing whispers.

“Shall we sit, Porthos! To talk!” Aramis said, hand knitted behind Porthos’s head, holding him steady, laughter bubbling up out of him. “I really like you, I really really like you.”

“Oh,” Porthos said.

“I might love you,” Aramis said. “I do love you. I was going to invite you for a sedate coffee, a nice date, ask you out, see if you’d be my boyfriend.”

“Instead you came here, to look at me like you would worship me, in front of your creepy scary Jesus, under a billion eyes in that ceiling painting,” Porthos said, mouth turning up into a smile. He tipped his chin up. “Kiss us, then. What are you waiting for?”

“To talk to you,” Aramis reminded him, but kissed him seeing as he looked like he might be about to fight for it. “I was going to talk to you.”

“Got it. Love, dating, boyfriends, shit like that,” Porthos said. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want you to fuck me in a hallway.”

Porthos’s breath caught, he swallowed visibly, stepping back from Aramis out of his hold. Aramis followed, then stood still as Porthos backed away more purposefully, staring at him. He bumped into the front pew, stumbled.

“Alright?” Aramis asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, can we go back home?” Porthos asked. “Now.”

“Of course,” Aramis said. “Car’s that way.”

“I’ll just sit here for a bit,” Porthos said, groping for the pew, then giving up and sitting on the floor. “Yep. Here.”

“Can I sit there, too?” Aramis asked. Porthos nodded so Aramis folded himself down to sit cross legged, back against the pew. They looked up at Jesus. “It’s art.”

“You’re art.”

“Are you having a freak out?”

“Little bit.”

“About?”

“Thought maybe I loved you too.”

“Maybe?”

“I can’t do this. Not- I mean I don’t mean this this. I can’t. I don’t.”

“That was very clear,” Aramis said. They sat for a while. “You could tell him up there, if you can’t tell me. That’s what my mother used to say. She’d bring me here and say tell him, I’ll not listen.”

“Sorry about your injuries,” Porthos said, to the statue. Aramis thought he was being teased, but caught a thread of sincerity, and wondered if Porthos maybe wasn’t so keen on the gory Jesus statue. “Sorry about the scratches and nails and things. Um. I’m a bit scared. Bet you were scared too, right? Being put up there. People chiselling you out of that nice tree.”

Aramis leant his head back against the pew. Porthos talked about the statue more than himself, anxiety about the wood and the lost paint, the blood, coming out of him in streams of words. In between Aramis picked out Porthos’s fear, of losing control, of losing himself, of being left. Love, Aramis picked out, was a painful business for Porthos, and was more often slow and easy than headfirst crashing to church flags.

“You can stop if you like,” Aramis whispered. “When I was little, I used to want to climb up to him, whatever statue or picture or whatever. Get him down, bandage his wounds. I became a nurse because of him.”

“I didn’t know you were a nurse.”

“Not any more. Haven’t I told you about my work? I’m a chaplain. It’s a nine to five job, it’s at the uni, that’s why I was there. It fits close enough with the kids’ holidays,” Aramis said.

“You’re a priest. No wonder you brought me to church.”

“I just wanted to show you the art. Kiss you under the millions of eyes in the painting on the ceiling.”

“Hold my hand instead.”

They sat for a long time, holding hands, quiet settling around them until Aramis started idly humming. Porthos sang along, the tune the same hymn Aramis had, but the words something from a pub on a Friday, Porthos’s deep, light voice resonating. Churches were built with acoustics in mind, and it was like the air hummed, notes long, held in the wood.

parts:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 [complete]

[luxwritesfanfic]

On Tap

Sherlock insists that it would work better with the reader on top and after the night they’ve had, there’s no point in arguing. Or, the one where reader plays superhero for poor Greg and her beloved detective. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You hadn’t even taken your shoes off when your phone started ringing in your purse. Sighing, you dug around for it with one hand and reached for the lightswitch with the other. Work had been incredibly stressful since you were working short during flu season and everyone in London had been feeling under the weather apparently. You had told your coworkers that if they really needed you that you would come back even though you had put a solid 16 hours in. Sherlock and John had gone out for John’s bachelor party so you didn’t mind working late, and Bucky was visiting his brother in the States so all your time was truly yours. You had thought about soaking in the bath or catching up on that show you always missed, but all of those thoughts were stopped in their tracks when the ringing persisted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound like you’d rather chew on glass than clock one more minute into the hospital but you weren’t sure you were so convincing.

“Come get him. Please, for the love of God, come get him.” At hearing Greg’s voice, you were both relieved yet confused. Sherlock must’ve invited him last minute to celebrate with them, you didn’t remember him saying that he was coming along.

“Oh, I didn’t know you went out with the boys! Where are you guys?” It was nice to know they were all having a good time. You liked Greg and thought he was a really good friend for Sherlock and John. You had plopped down on the couch and had started pulling one of your shoes off when he said, “No, I didn’t go with them. They were brought to me. Someone called the cops on them and now I’ve got tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum arguing about the solar system and taking turns puking in my waste bin. Please, I beg of you, come get him. Matter of fact, I can bring him home. If that makes the process quicker--- I mean easier.” You heard Sherlock trying to take Greg’s phone in the background, asking to talk to you and then quickly after arguing with John once more if it was really that important he knew they orbited the sun. Greg sounded just as exhausted as you felt and you could only imagine how annoyed he was by the drunk detective that he was already annoyed with most of the time sober.

“Yeah, yeah of course I’ll come get him. I’m actually at my flat though, so if you could meet me at his place that would be awesome. I’d just need a few minutes to finish up here...” You mourned the hot bath you were never going to get to take and worked on shoving the shoe you just took off back on, “did you call Mary for John?”

“Yes, she’ll be over soon. As soon as she gets here, I’ll bring Sherlock. You’re doing the Lord’s work, thank you.” With that, he hung up and you went to your room to pack an overnight bag. You were exhausted and if you had to go all the way to Sherlock’s, it would be easier for you to crash on the couch than to try to come back home late.

By the time you got to Sherlock’s, you were dragging your feet up the stairs and you could barely keep your eyes open. You had received a text from Mary when she picked John up saying “good luck” and you wished you knew what you were walking into. You had never seen Sherlock drunk, or heard any stories of him being drunk, but you were sure he was even more eccentric than he was sober. If you weren’t so tired, you’d be jumping with joy at the experience to see Sherlock so out of character. 

You went into Sherlock’s room and laid out some pajamas for him and went ahead and put a water bottle and some Advil on his nightstand because you were sure he would need it. After doing that, you changed into something more comfortable too and rummaged through his fridge to see if there was anything to eat. Thumbs, unsalted butter, and milk that shouldn’t look like blue cheese was what was on the menu and you had decided sleep for dinner sounded much more appetizing. You’d go shopping for him tomorrow.

Greg had texted that he was outside but Sherlock didn’t have his key so you made your way down the steps to meet them. Upon opening the door, Sherlock looked up at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. He stumbled towards you and held you at arms length with a look of wonder on his face. “Finally! Y/N, I was thinking I’d die from being surrounded by total stupidity, and here you are. Ever the shining light and the beacon of hope.”

You felt the heat from his stare and turned to Greg to try and keep your composure under all his attention. “Uh.. I— thank you. For bringing him home.”

Still staring at Sherlock and shocked by his outburst, Greg met your eyes with a knowing smile. “It’s no trouble. He’s your problem now. Good luck, my dear.” He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you with a very drunk Sherlock Holmes and a dozen steps to climb.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning towards the door, “do you think you can get up the stairs? Or do you want me to help you?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he started until his eyes widened like he forgot who he had been talking to. It had only been a second but he saw the look that flashed across your face. You hated when he made you feel dumb because you always tried so hard to keep up with him, and he knew that. You didn’t have a chance to react before he quickly interrupted. His previous statement was immediately followed by, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please help me.”

You just nodded, unsure of what made him have such a quick change of heart but you were happy he did. You hated him thinking you were dumb. In comparison to him, maybe, but you were intelligent in your own right and you did a better job of keeping up with him than most. He threw his arm around your shoulders to steady himself and allowed you to lead him carefully up the stairs. He started telling you about his night and it honestly sounded like he had a great time, and so did John. You were really happy that it all worked out even if they did end up with Greg at the end of it all.

As soon as the back of Sherlock’s legs hit his chair, he was down in a clean swoop and you took the opportunity to start untying his shoes. He seemed like he was lost in thought and was quiet for a few moments but you could tell from the way he was swaying that he was too far gone to sober up before the morning.

“I already put your clothes out for you and I’ll help you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’ll love me for that in the morning.” You smiled at him as you pulled off his loafers and moved to stand up so that you could figure out how you were going to get him out of his chair.

“Will I, though? Will I tomorrow once I’m in my right mind?” He asked, and while he didn’t say it in an ignorant tone, it sounded like Sherlock, and that was close enough.

You looked at him hoping he’d say something else. But he didn’t, and he looked back at you with a look of confusion as if he was really expecting you to answer that. It seemed like just last week he was in your bed trying to convince you that he didn’t have eyes for anyone besides you and now he’s reminding you that he’s not even sure of that. Sherlock could have you at the top of the poll and then have you kissing the ground in the same hour if he tried.

“It’s just a saying. I didn’t really mean...you know, let’s— let’s just get you to bed. It’s late and you have a date with a hangover in the morning.” You could tell he was on the verge of passing out which was good in the way of no more awkward conversations but horrible in that you’d never get him into bed as dead weight. So you pushed things along and eventually got him in bed before he was out like a light.

Draping the blanket over him, you watched as his eyes fluttered behind his lids and how his lips twitched as fell into a deeper sleep and you were sure then that you would never love anyone more. You would never understand how he didn’t realize how beautiful he made the ordinary and how easily he made everything extraordinary. Afraid that you’d turn to stone if you spent any more time staring at him, you turned off his light and made your way to the living room where the the couch had never looked more inviting. It didn’t take you long to get settled in and asleep seeing as the TV in the background ended up being the perfect thing to mask Sherlock’s drunk snores and you had never been more tired in your life.

—

“I thought you were staying over?”

It had only been a few hours since you  had put Sherlock to bed when he found himself looking over you on the couch, wrapped up in his bedsheet.

“M’right here.” You murmured into the pillow, body still turned away from Sherlock on the couch. He was probably still drunk and you were hoping if you laid still enough he’d wander back to bed.

He didn’t respond to you, instead he continued to stand and stare with his lips pursed and brows furrowed. You had drifted back off only to be nudged awake once more.

“I won’t fit like that.” He gestured with the hand not holding the sheet to the couch, sounding exasperated like he had been explaining this to you all night. “It’ll only work if you’re on top, so get up so I can lie down first.”

You didn’t process what he said really, you just knew that if he was being persistent and you didn’t do as he asked he’d never let you go back to bed. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light and swung your legs off the couch, standing on stiff bones. Sherlock immediately made to get comfortable on the couch while you stood dazed and confused and he cleared his throat expectantly when he had finally got settled. He was on his back with one arm holding the sheet up between himself and the back of the couch allowing room for you to climb over and snuggle right into him.

All you could do was blink and hold his stare as he waited expectantly, still holding the sheet for you. You didn’t think he was asking you to lay with him, especially with how close you’d two be. Sure, you shared your bed before, but there was always enough room for you both to have your own space. You could tell he was getting embarrassed by your reaction, or lack there of.

“I didn’t think this would be rocket science, even for someone like you.” His nervousness was showing as he yanked his arm back down and curled into to himself like a child. You jumped into action so you wouldn’t upset him any more and shook his shoulder as you whined, partially from exhaustion and from missing the chance to sleep next to him.

“I’m tired, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize what you were asking. Come on, open up. Let me in.” You continued to shake at his shoulder until he looked back at you. He looked wrecked from drinking all night and you knew this bout of sobriety wouldn’t be as easy on him in the morning but you were sure he looked holy.

Sherlock reluctantly brought his arm up again and you wasted no time sliding under the sheet and tucking yourself under the crook of his arm. He smelled like beer and mouthwash and Sherlock and you thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest when he brought his arm back down on you, subsequently pinning you down to him. It was definitely a tight fit especially since the couch barely fit Sherlock but you had decided that if you had the opportunity to sleep with him like this every night that you would. Back pain be damned.

The steadiness of his heartbeat was already working you back to sleep. Sighing content, you let your body fully relax and sink further into him.

“You never answered my question.” He shifted next to you and kept you close to him all the same, his head leaning to rest on yours.

“Hmm?” You made an incoherent sound, your breath evening out as you fell asleep.

“My question,” he whispered more so to himself as he worked it out in his head. The feelings he found himself harboring for you were ones he had never felt before. He thought  so highly of you in a way he couldn’t understand even if he wasn’t the best at expressing it. You were patient with him when he got on your last nerve and was amazed by him when other people would tell him to piss off. You were always kind and warm and made him feel human even after he spent so long separating himself from his feelings. He couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at anyone else the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

So yes, he thought. Yes, he would love you in the morning. He’d love you when you’re angry with him for putting himself at risk during a case and he’d love you when you were overly tired and petulant after he made you stay up all night to keep him company in the lab. He loved that you valued him regardless of what he offered you, and that you always showed him that even if he never reciprocated it. You were never embarrassed by him, you always tried to learn about what he was interested in, and you never doubted him even when he was wrong.

Girlfriends weren’t naturally his area... but he didn’t think he would mind if it was you. He liked being close to you and physical touch wasn’t something he had sought out often before. He found that he chased the opportunity to be near you at all times. He thought you looked lovely in scrubs and a lab coat and even lovelier in your everyday wear, even if you considered it plain. He had begun to notice the way other people stared at you when you walked by and it left him with the most unsettling feeling. But then you’d smile at him and despite himself he’d smile right back and he wondered if anything in the world mattered to you besides him. Because in those moments, nothing mattered to him besides you.

Sherlock woke up alone again the next morning with the worst headache he’d ever had. Light was shining through the curtains and he cursed the sun for rising another day as he covered his eyes and groaned. Peaking through his fingers, he saw that the Advil and water had been moved to the coffee table for him and when he reached out for it he noticed the note on the table. He sat up with one hand gingerly holding his head as he read it.

“Got called into work to help the girls. John and Mary are coming over for lunch, so text me what you want me to bring home. We can’t serve our best friends buttered thumbs for lunch. I’ll see you soon!

  -Y/N xx”

He held the note in his hand, contemplating what his next move would be. You were interested in him, that he knew for sure. He’d contemplated casually mentioning to everyone that you were dating, but he technically hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend and you two had never talked about any mutual feelings. Maybe he’d kiss you when walking you to your taxi, but he knew he’d make you stay with him instead of letting you go home. Possibly tonight when you were laying in his bed he’d tell you it had to be you, it could only ever be you.

Leaning back against the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and decided he’d call John over early and he’d help him sort it out. John always helped him. Standing up was harder than it looked apparently, as Sherlock wobbled to the side and fought the urge to puke. Perhaps he should shower first, surely you wouldn’t say yes to being his if he didn’t look his best.

He remembered how he looked and acted last night and winced. On second thought, maybe you would. You had already given yourself to him for better or for worse and soon enough, he smiled, he would give you himself in return.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

[existslikepristin]

Activated My Trap Card

This one is VERY old. Even from before What A Bummer.

Tags: TheLounge?, CLC, Seungyeon, Yeeun, Eunbin, male reader insert, scary ladies, the most uncomfortable threesome with an audience of one, vote story

~~~~~

You stand in front of the door to Cube Entertainment's offices. You got a strange call a few days ago telling you to come to this address in order to "make a lot of money." You were worried that it might be something illegal, or a scam, but after you looked the address up you got a little excited.

And it seems like you were right to be! After a minute or two, the door opens and you see Seungyeon standing there, looking straight into your eyes. She's wearing a super low cut black tank top, a pair of jean shorts that look like they've been cut extra high for optimal showing off, and the most basic pair of black flip flops ever. She doesn't look surprised to see you.

"Yeah, there you are," she says in her deep, beautiful voice, putting her hands on her hips, "I knew you would be perfect. Come on in. I've got a job for you."

She stands aside to let you through the doorway and closes the door behind you.

Unsure of where to go, you wait for her to make the next move. She does exactly that, walking past you and letting her hand graze past your thigh on the way. That had to be an accident right?

With her back turned to you, you look down and she that her tank top is mostly backless, and her shorts reveal about half of her butt cheeks. There is so much skin on display to you right now. You make an effort not to look, but it's damn hard.

You're about to take another look when Seungyeon spins around gives you a deadly look in the eye. "So tell me... who's your CLC bias?"

Holy shit, why is she putting you on the spot all of a sudden?! She looks like she wants an answer, and fast! This really was a trap! Fuck!

Options: 1. (Picked:) Seungyeon 2. Seunghee 3. Yujin 4. Sorn 5. Yeeun 6. Elkie 7. Eunbin

~~~~~

"Y-y..." you stutter, trying to think about how fast you can turn around and open the door to run.

"Yeeun?" Seungyeon takes a step toward you. She's very, very close.

You stumble back and bump up against the door. Seungyeon follows.

"Y-you," you manage to say.

A mischievous half grin grows on her face. "Yu...jin?" She punctuates the "jin" part by pressing herself up against you. You're still nervous, but you suddenly think you know what this is about (that isn't some shit like assassinating you). She's soft but firm, like you can definitely feel the dancer muscles under her tender skin. Except for her tits, pressed against your ribs. Those are totally soft, other than two tiny points of hardness.

"Nah... you."

You feel Seungyeon's body shiver from top to bottom, and she slides one of her legs up yours, trapping you against the door just a little more. Her hands are suddenly on your shoulders.

"That's what I was hoping. I saw you a while ago. You didn't see me, but I saw a picture of me on your phone," She squeezes your shoulders a little, like she's getting needy, "Do you touch yourself when you see me?"

You gulp. You're really not sure if telling the truth about that will help your case here.

Then it's your turn to shiver, as Seungyeon licks your neck, then buries her face in it. "Tell me which one of my holes you fantasize about being inside the most."

Well, what do you say?

Options: 1. (Picked:) "I've always wanted your pussy wrapped around me." 2. "Do you think your throat can take all of me?" 3. "Spread your ass and I'll show you." 4. "Hole? But what about your tits?"

~~~~~

"I've always wanted your pussy wrapped around me."

...

Holy shit, you've never seen clothes come off a person so fast. You barely catch a glimpse of Seungyeon's nipples before they're smashed against your chest again.

"Well I want to wrap my pussy around your cock," she says, already lowering your pants, "Help me make that happen, okay?"

You're not sure how you're supposed to help, since you're pinned between the door and her paralyzing, hot body. You feel your pants dropping to the floor, taking your underwear with them. Your dick springs up and slaps Seungyeon's pussy. Of course you're already hard.

Seungyeon isn't waiting for anything. She lifts herself onto her toes, and your dick gets just enough room to be able point fully up. Your tip rests somewhere in her folds. She reaches around her back and you feel her fingers adjust you very slightly, and suddenly you feel your entire dick being engulfed by her as she drops back down.

She groans. Loud. You're very aware all of a sudden that you're having sex in the front hallway of an entertainment company's office and look around. Seungyeon grabs your chin and forces you to look into her eyes though. You see stars dancing around them, but that's probably because you're feeling light headed from the pleasure being forced onto you right now.

The look she gives you is... intense. The whole time she's moving her body just right to keep your dick inside her, despite the fact that she's so soaking wet and slippery and at such an awkward angle. She manages it well though.

"Do you like this? Hm?" She asks. You open your mouth to answer but all you get out is a moan as she squeezes your dick with her pussy. Against your stomach, you feel her abs working to make that happen. What a fucking talent!

She smiles and pulls your head down to her open mouth. You open yours too and it gets assaulted by her tongue, dancing just as wildly as her body does.

When she finally breaks away from the thing you could call a kiss, she moves her chest off of yours to let you get a really good view of her jiggling tits, shining with sweat. If you're honest, you've already seen most of them thanks to the clothes she wears, but with nothing to cover them at all they're absolutely amazing.

"I need you to... cum, alright?"

Woah, that's sudden. Does she mean inside?

"The first cum... happens fast," she pants between every couple of words. No wonder, since she's still fucking you while just on the tips of her toes, "but that's what... we need... You need to last... longer for the next round."

You definitely already feel your orgasm coming, she doesn't need to tell you that. But wait. Next round? What is she talking about?

Simple poll this time:

Choices: 1. Take charge and cum the way you want to! She didn't specifically say she needed you to cum inside her, but that's a risk you're willing to take. 2. (Picked:) Are you joking? She knows what she's doing and has a plan for MORE? Don't take charge, she'll make you cum the way she wants to!

~~~~~

No way you're risking doing something she doesn't want you to right now. Not after she mentioned a "next round."

"It's happening now!" you say through your half gritted teeth. You really hope she knows what you meant, but you're having a little trouble forming full, meaningful sentences right now.

Seungyeon gets both of her arms around you and squeezes. Her eyes lock on yours again and you're captivated. You can't look away. "Do it... then."

Her hips grind against yours, and your orgasm hits you like a runaway train. You're dizzy, but you can still notice that she's squeezing down on you. As your cum fills her up, her eyes roll up, she bites her lip, and a grin spreads across her face.

You barely register that you slump to the floor, with Seungyeon's clamping pussy bringing her down with you.

"You dumb fucking hooker."

Suddenly, your senses all come back to you. That wasn't your voice. Or Seungyeon's. Oh shit. You can't see where it came from. But you recognize it. You start to imagine yourself getting beat up by body guards, or thrown in jail, or... fuck, maybe exiled from South Korea? Is that a thing that could happen?

So, whose voice was it?

Options: 1. Seunghee 2. Yujin 3. Sorn 4. Yeeun 5. Elkie 6. (Picked:) Eunbin

~~~~~

With a semi-exhausted sigh, Seungyeon leans to the side and looks over her shoulder. You feel a sense of impending doom as you see that the voice came from the daddy long le-- er, you mean, "maknae" of CLC, Eunbin.

Eunbin is only about fifteen feet away down the hall, wearing shorts (not as short as Seungyeon's, but still revealing her full legs), a blue sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. She looks... well she looks stone-faced as normal, but you bet she's super angry, based on the tone of her voice.

"Beannie, it's all good, okay?" Seungyeon sounds annoyed. She stands up, a wet plop nearly echoing as she comes off your dick. She faces away from you. If you weren't terrified, you would be admiring the bottom view of her bare ass and pussy dripping with your cum. Actually, you just came inside her. You're suddenly even more terrified, thinking about the entertainment company lawyers that are about to sue you into oblivion.

There's a dead silence for a solid ten seconds as the leader and the maknae stare each other down. You barely have the self consciousness to cover your dick with your hands.

"Don't you want to try him out?"

You stare up at Seungyeon's back. Could she make this situation worse? Don't mock the witness!

Eunbin's deadpan glare lowers down and locks with your eyes. ShiiiiIIIIT. Her look goes a little further down, right at your hands. And she licKS HER LIPS, WHAT?

"I'm busy, ass whore. Besides, the bitch is waiting with her cunt wide open," she swears evenly, like she's discussing the mild weather. You would question what she's saying if you weren't so confused, and still light headed.

Seungyeon groans, this time with annoyance rather than with pleasure like earlier. She turns around and bends over to grab your arms and starts pulling. You have to assume she wants you to stand, so you try, but it's awkward, trying to stand without revealing your mostly softened cock. Once you're up, she yanks on your hands, flashing Eunbin. Yet, she only looks for half a second, then turns and walks through a doorway. The same one Seungyeon starts dragging you toward, all the while with your cum slowly dripping out of her onto the floor.

What the fuck is happening here?

And who's the "bitch" Eunbin is talking about?!

Options: 1. Seunghee 2. Yujin 3. Sorn 4. (Picked:) Yeeun 5. Elkie

~~~~~

As you make your way through the door, dragged by Seungyeon, Eunbin is nowhere to be seen, but there is definitely another person. You're not sure you recognize her though.

She's tied down with some soft looking rope to a cushioned table. And the ropes are all she's wearing, with the exception of a blindfold. The ropes are holding her down and holding her legs wide open, but her arms are completely free. Doesn't seem like effective bonda--

The door slams shut behind you, making you just about jump out of your skin. Eunbin was hiding behind it! She has on exactly the same expression as before, too. She must be determined to creep you the hell out.

Before you can do or say anything about that, Seungyeon grabs your chin and turns you to look at the tied up girl on the table again. "See there? That's Yeeun. She's been a very good girl until today. She's only had sex a couple times before, but last month she told us that she wants to be a little slut, so that's why you're here."

You see Yeeun biting her lower lip. Seungyeon reaches down and starts stroking your dick back to life.

"You can fuck her any way you want to, as long as it's hard, and as long as you can do it for a really, really long time. And if you can do that..."

Seungyeon drops to her knees and takes your mostly hard dick in her mouth, diving all the way to the base and quickly sucking off whatever was left from the first round. She pops back off and licks it from the bottom to the top.

"If you do that for her, I'll definitely be calling you back."

You look back and forth from the leader of CLC below you and the rapper in front of you. Should you really? This seems crazy.

"What will it be? You can take her sweet pussy all the way to the moon and back, but she's not on the same prodigious birth control I am,"

You mentally breathe a sigh of relief at that, but also wonder what the hell qualifies a birth control as "prodigious."

"If you're afraid of putting a baby in her though, we already pre-lubed her pretty little ass. It hasn't been used before, but you should glide righ-"

DEAR LORD, Eunbin's ever-expressionless face appears right in front of yours, out of nowhere, "Or you can face fuck her. I've been dildoing this stupid thot's dumb mouth for days to get her ready for your fatass penis, if you have the balls," she says, nearly monotone. You're seriously confused by her rude behavior here and suspect she might be hiding a torture room somewhere in this building.

From the table, you hear Yeeun. You may not be at a good angle to see her, but it's definitely her. You'd recognize that sweet, meek voice anywhere, "I'm ready... please fuck me?"

Holy damn. This is really happening isn't it?

Options: 1. (Picked:) Take that risk! Pussy time! 2. Well, if her ass is already lubed... 3. Don't risk Eunbin crushing your skull. Throat fuck Yeeun. 4. Why is titfucking still not an option?! Lol, jk, we all love her boobs, but she's not big enough for that. 5. Run the fuck away! These bitches are actually insane!

~~~~~

You take a deep breath. This is just plain insanity that you are witnessing before your eyes.

Insanity is contagious, apparently.

You step around Seungyeon, and stand over Yeeun. She's at just the right height, and your dick rests on her pelvis, between her legs. You hear a short gasp of excitement from her... and two more behind you, which is definitely still weird.

You back up a few inches, bend your knees just a bit, and move forward again. Yeeun is a bit small, so it takes some pushing, but you can see the anticipation building on her face (what isn't covered by the blindfold). With a thrust, you're in.

Yeeun sighs and a smile crosses her face. Seems you made a good choice. She's going to like this.

"Woohoo! Now make her a slut!"

Again, you nearly forgot about your audience. Seungyeon moves to stand right next to you, one hand on Yeeun's inner thigh and the other one squeezing your ass cheek. Yay, fun...

For hours, you pound Yeeun into the table. Seungyeon stays with you the whole time, climbing on top of Yeeun, sliding herself all over you, and licking... pretty much everywhere.

A couple of times you have to change things up, untying Yeeun and flipping her onto her stomach, re-angling her so you can hold yourself up mostly by your arms, and eventually scooting her to where her head hangs off the table while you kneel over her.

You cum at least four times, but it's hard to be sure, since you think you went basically numb after the first three hours.

Yeeun seems to have lost her mind around that same time. Her blindfold fell off at some point while you were fucking her from behind and now you can see that her eyes have become unfocused. Every time you pull out to adjust after the second hour, she whined and tried to get you back in. But anything coming out of her mouth eventually turned into needy moans.

You kind of wonder to yourself how realistic it is to have lasted so long, for Yeeun to have actually gone half comatose, or for this process to have "turned her into a slut," but hey, it was bliss for you.

Seungyeon gets on her knees between you and cleans off your exhausted cock (and the area around it) with her tongue. It's a little sore actually, but you're not about to complain.

She stands back up and wraps her arms under yours, pulling you in. "I think you were successful, baby. Yeeun is going to want so much more from now on. Let's hope the baby you definitely put in her doesn't slow her down."

Oh. Right.

"So, what's next? Want any kind of... reward before you go?"

With her hips slowly rubbing side to side against yours, it's pretty obvious what she means, but hey, she asked, so...

Options: 1. (Picked:) You're drained, but you'll try for Seungyeon! Even if it results in embarrassment! 2. You want more, but you don't think you can get it up anymore. Be smooth and give her your contact info. 3. Uh, yeah. The call you got said you were going to get paid money for this. That's a reward. 4. Maybe just something to drink? You're fucking exhausted! (Warning, this option is mad kink territory.)

~~~~~

With your cock just about ready to fall off, you aren't sure how well this will work, but you're willing to try for Seungyeon. You grab her by the hips. A smirk crosses her face, and she doubles down on grinding against you.

You lift her chin up for a kiss. It's your turn to take charge with her now. She coos into your mouth. Her fingernails lightly scrape either side of your spine, sending tingles all up and down your body. Her entire behavior just changed! Sheesh, and all you had to do was take the initiative in grabbing her? This girl changes her mind as fast as she takes her clothes off.

The sweetness continues for the better part of ten minutes. You could swear the room's temperature is evening back out, from the sun-like heat earlier to being very pleasantly warm.

Seungyeon slowly breaks away from the kiss, looking into your eyes with less intensity and more... care. She leans her head back, and you take the hint, diving in and sucking carefully at her neck. Her silent shuddering is only interrupted by a moan coming from behind you.

You can guess what it is, but curiosity gets you to turn enough to look. And of course, it's Eunbin. She's still staring, which is still creepy. But she's also got both hands moving inside her shorts. She's probably been there all along, so you guess she can stay and keep watching. You doubt she'd leave even if you asked...

Trying not to think too much about your audience, you get back to work on Seungyeon, kissing her tanned skin from her chin, to her chest, to her toned as hell stomach, to her clit. Once there, her knees shake, so you decide to set her down somewhere she won't fall. It's time to pay her back for all the oral service she's been giving you!

Seungyeon backs up at your touch, until she leans back against the table in the middle of the room, and onto Yeeun's half conscious body. The skinny girl groans as she's suddenly used as a back rest, but Seungyeon doesn't seem to have any interest in fixing the problem.

This is your moment. You're going to make Seungyeon squirm on top of her rapper. You'll make her explode! You start leaning down, tongue halfway hanging out of your mouth...

"Damn, you're still not hard?"

She's holding you back by the forehead, looking between your bodies down at your lifeless dick.

"W-well, yeah, I mean, I just..." you gesture down at Yeeun. That's where your hardness went, and it's still dripping out of her at a moderate pace!

Eunbin's hands are on your shoulders, pulling you away from Seungyeon. It's a bit of a shock, to say the least.

"I'll call you later! Buh-bye!"

The next thirty seconds are a blur. You're dragged, stunned, out of the room, through to the opposite end of the hallway you came in from, and shoved out a door into an alley.

"See ya, fuckface," is the last thing you hear from Eunbin before the door slams behind you.

What the hell...

The door reopens, and you spin around just in time to get a face full of your pants.

"Don't forget your stupid clothes, you degenerate," Eunbin throws you one last insult before the door closes again.

It's a little chilly out here.

[GAME OVER]

[ggreactionsandscenarios]

I was thinking about how the 13th member also their girlfriend would be doing a sexy stage with other members from different irl group's and Yvesoul is just teasing the crap out of their girlfriend saying that she couldn't do the special stage because she's more of a cute type but still encouraging her. (Because, they're supportive girlfriends and that's what we love) but, when the 13th member does the special stage, she pulls it off perfectly. I don't want the ending to end in a smut because I don't know where you stand on that and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but if you want to do it you can. So, can I settle with an ending that has Yvesoul shocked and the 13th member smug. Remember, if you're busy or just don't want to do my request than ignore it. I don't want you to feel obligated to do anything that I ask. Thank you❤️❤️

Yves x Jinsoul x Reader

"I'll show you !"

"Come on Y/N, you can't do a sexy stage, it's like asking a puppy to twerk !"

Yves bursts out laughing, you just told her about your collab stage with Sua from Dreamcatcher and Soojin from (G)I-dle. Knowing the two other idols, your girlfriend was shocked to know you were going to dance with them. After all they were known to be the sexiest of their individual groups when you were known as the cute and softest member of Loona.

Jinsoul entered the room, visibly curious about the loud fit of laughter.

"What's making you laugh that loud ? Hi cutie, didn't see you there."

She kissed your lips before facing Sooyoung, waiting for her answer.

You crossed your arms and gave a knowing look to your girlfriend, urging her to announce the news to your other girlfriend.

"Okay don't laugh yet, Y/N is doing a sexy performance soon."

Jinsoul looked at you then back at Yves.

"Who's Y/N ?"

And the laughs were back, your girlfriend almost rolling on the floor while the other one was confusingly looking at you.

"What ?"

"Babe what's my name ?

Jinsoul looked at you as if you grew a second head.

"Cutie."

"No, my real name."

Realisation suddenly hit her and when you thought she was going to apologize she just started laughing too.

"Ha ha ha ! A sexy stage? Then what, learn poll dance ?"

"You know what ?! Fuck both of you ! I'll show you I can be sexy if and whenever I want to !"

~~~~~

After that sweet argument with your girlfriends they didn't stop teasing you. They were convinced you were way too cute to do a sexy concept.

You were determined to prove them wrong by showing them what you got and for that matter working with Sua and Soojin was a big help.

On one side you had Soojin showing you how being cute or shy didn't mean you couldn't be the sexiest on stage.

On the other side Sua was not just sexy but the most provocative person you might know and that was something you had to learn from her to get back at your girlfriends.

After weeks of training you were finally ready, you actually never been more confident in your all life. You only had few minutes but you were sure it’ll be just enough to make a show of how sexy you could be to your teasing girlfriends.

Luckily they both came to your performance because even though they didn’t think sexy suits you, they do want to see you perform and cheer for you. You coul see both of them standing near the cameraman, waiting with their lightsticks on, colored with your assigned shade.

As soon as you set foot on stage, you took a glance of them, witnessing the way they gulped at your outfit.

Their eyes were lingering on you even longer than expected, looking you up and down looking for your so called cuteness. Cuteness that was long time gone, erased during practice and hair and makeup.

As expected you nailed the performance your eyes made few contacts with theirs, piercing right through your girlfriends' dirty minds.

Jinsoul was wearing the usual smirk she'd gave off in bed when she was making you moan and you could see Yves' hand that was gripped tightly around her thigh, probably in attempt to prevent both of them to go take you off stage immediately.

They for sure weren't thinking about anything cute right now, you gave them a last teasing wink before you went change.

You didn't bother closing the door of the changing room, you were convinced you won't have time to change anyway.

But the idea of them thinking you'll change before anyone's eyes wasn't anything but alluring now that you were turning your back at the door and thinking about it.

The loud steps weren't long to come, the two pairs of feet hitting the floor in noticeable frustration but suddenly stopped as they reached the door.

You didn't bother turning around and opened the zipper of your top in a slow teasing motion.

If Yves was frozen in wow at the sight, not over the performance yet, your other girlfriend her, was fully awake and didn't let you slid the piece of clothing alone.

She had been longing for your skin since you appeared on stage and wasn't going to wait any more time before having a taste of it.

Her lips found your neck, gently nibbling on it just beneath your ear. You felt her hands circling your hips, brushing slightly the top of your shorts.

As Jinsoul turned you around in her arms, you could now see the fire burning in Yves eyes. Her eyes were admiring your torso, appreciating the last piece of cloth you had over your chest.

Obviously it was one of her Valentine's day gifts, the red material with flowery patterns that she chose was indeed accomplishing its purpose of turning her on even more.

Her hands were visibly shaking with anticipation, still standing in the door frame she didn't even enter the room completely yet.

You reached out for her hand.

"You might want to close that door and come closer."

As if breaking out of hypnosis she suddenly stepped in and smashed her lips to yours, not minding the opened door behind her.

"I'll like it to stay opened. You didn't mind turning us on in public while you were on stage, are you backing off now ? Want to go back to being a softie ?"

No way you were backing off now that you knew how being sexy affects your girlfriend. You never saw her this hungry before, not even Jinsoul would play it this risky with you on a regular basis.

Yet now one of them was still kissing and sucking on your neck while the other was unzipping your shorts with one hand and cupping your breast with the other all of this with the door still half opened.

You thought about stopping them but the kisses were too sweet, their touch felt too good on your skin and maybe the risk of getting caught was only adding fuel into the fire burning inside your stomach.

Yves cupped your face and brought you in for a second kiss while Jinsoul got rid of your shorts. She stood back up terribly slowly, her fingers brushing along your legs while doing so.

Her hands groped your butt, enjoying the laced red undergarment that you were wearing. Her mouth found the soft skin of your shoulder blades and traced kisses on it.

Sooyoung wasn't as slow as your first girlfriend was, she was needy and fidgeting. If you had hypnotized Jinsoul, Yves on the other side seemed rather electrified. She needed friction.

Her eyes weren't reflecting the same fire as earlier, they were rather pleading you now, pleading you to do something to the unstoppable wetness between her thighs.

Her tongue was not just fighting for dominance, it was claiming yours, caressing and sucking yours in an hurried request.

You were still kissing when you felt her take your hand in hers and push it in her pants, pressing on your fingers to play with her clit.

Witnessing how soaking wet she was, almost made you moan.

"See what you did to me ? I need you to fix it for me, can you do that for me, sexy ?"

Your only response was to push her hand away, wanting to touch her on your own. You slid your fingers further in her pants, opening the front to gain more access and space.

As your index finger brushed against her folds you saw how she was dripping for you. Her hands clunched on your shoulders at the sensation, a moan already half past her lips.

As you were caressing and teasing Sooyoung's sex, you felt your panties running down your legs.

"Can I get a taste ? I'm craving to feel you on my tongue right now."

It was actually the first words your Jinsoul was uttering and god you didn't wished for any other than those escaping her lips at the moment.

You looked over your shoulder, answering her with a kiss, your finger slowly entering your other girlfriend in the meantime, making her gasp.

She joined the kiss, kissing you and Jinsoul equally but biting down on your lip rougher. You had her on her knees for you right now.

Jinsoul got between you two enjoying looking up on you before making you open your legs wider.

She kissed your thigh and tummy before getting where you wanted her the most. When she kissed your clit, you heaved a sigh at the feeling. Your index finger joined your major in its thrust in your girlfriend, making her hiss in pleasure too.

The sounds of pleasure coming from you two spurred on Jinsoul's eagerness to make you feel good as she got a taste of your excitation with a lick.

Shivers ran down your spine, your hips bucking forward in want, making Yves moaned at your hips made contact against hers and getting Jinsoul to smirk, proud of herself.

The curves of her lips pushed against your clit, making you rolled your eyes back.

"God I could cum just by seeing you roll your eyes in pleasure."

The words had troubles escaping Yves' mouth as your thrusts became faster and deeper in her. She grabbed your face and kissed you roughly in an attempt to muffle her moans.

You felt her thighs shake as your other hand reached for her breast, pinching on her nipple the way you know brings her on edge.

In one last thrust Yves came undone in your hands, crying out her orgasm in your mouth. As on cue Jinsoul pushed a finger in your heat, her tongue still deep in and her thumb massaging your clit at a fast pace.

Everything felt too overwhelming, too hot and your orgasm too fast. Jinsoul held your hips knowing you wouldn't be able to keep standing.

Sooyoung attacked your neck once she got back from cloud nine, her teeth meeting your pulse point in a slight bite.

Blood rushed to your head in a great finally, your orgasm hitting you hard and making you grab on your girlfriend for support.

She patted your back, soothing your high.

Jinsoul got back up and smiled at you with her beamed afterglow smile. Which was odd since you didn't even heard her cumming, however Yves was faster at asking.

"How did you ?"

"Oh you know the regular."

She replied raising the hand that wasn't taking care of you previously with a chuckle.

You laughed with her and decided it was time to go home. You were getting your clothes back on while your girlfriends tried to make themselves presentable.

As you were about to leave Jinsoul burst out laughing, getting weird looks from you and Yves.

"Babes, neither of you closed the door right ? Because I didn't either and it's closed."

You looked at her in pure shame, your cheeks turning bright red from embarrassment.

Your girlfriends just brushed it off not caring at all about getting caught.

They cooed at you, engulfing you in a hug.

"Cutie Y/N is back !"

Hey, here it is. Hope you'll like it, give feedback 😁 Also I'm still a baby smut writer so bear with me please 😅❤-Ael

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

💙Sat 12 Dec ‘20💙

◟̽◞̽ LIVE FROM LONDON aka “5 TIMES LOUIS NEARLY GAVE US HEART ATTACKS AND THE ONE TIME HE RAISED OUR BODIES BACK TO LIFE” ◟̽◞̽

The hype leading up to the event was beautiful and nerve wracking, with Louis' Walls streams showing the largest gain since release week, new merch dropping (pink! So much pink! It is the color of rock n roll after all...plus it's available in sizes ranging from XS to 3XL fuck yeah, so nice), LTHQ and Veeps whipping everyone into a frenzy with a barrage of tweets, plus Louis tweeted “if you have a speaker round the house plug it in, if you're old enough get yourself a drink. This is going to be special!” (fan: if I do that my mom will kill me! Louis, basically- fuck that, do what you want!), and then he posted the set list which genuinely took my stress levels down like 90% THANK YOU LOUIS, I was able to simply enjoy the cool static-y countdown with its rainbow glitches for a few. But ofc any calm went completely down the toilet the second he walked out with a giant ass H on his chest (the first heart attack) and started singing maybe the best he's ever sung in his life?? My heart was still pounding three minutes later when he sang the softest, most gorgeous version of We Made It, standing in front of a giant rainbow wheel. The arrangements on every song were incredible (the string section? YES!). He did the best version of Through The Dark I've ever heard and that song is already my fucking favorite, That Version of Two Of Us, ACOUSTIC ONLY THE BRAVE, rock Always You, stadium rock Fearless, and we all know about his version of Beautiful War (WOW), listen do I need to list every song? I WILL DON'T TRY ME. But on top of all that-- the NEW SONG!! Copy of a Copy of a Copy is, uh, amazing?? It's just... so GOOD...so.. gestures vaguely at like... all of it. The sound! The lyrics! GORGEOUS, and he really gets into the figurative lyrical territory that he admires so much in others' songs and has said he wants to do more, I love seeing that so much and the results are just... sublime. Truly. Much chatter now about the similarity in sound to Sign of the Times, as if it wasn't terrific enough already. So much to love about it! And I even loved the inclusion of the fan videos on KMM-- they were just on the screens behind Louis, it totally worked with the general cool look of everything and didn't detract at all, and tbh Louis singing directly to the wall  of singing louies was actually so lovely and precious. In conclusion, his voice throughout was PHENOMENAL, the band were great, strings included (hire those women Louis take them on the road, please!), the sets and lighting design and direction were awesome, the whole aesthetic was just SO on point, Louis said it best-- “we smashed it”. YEAH. YOU DID.

Other things: you didn’t think I was done with THAT FUCKING H SHIRT did you? It doesn't just have a GIANT H in the middle, above that (like tags!) are five asterisks, *****. YEAH. Look familiar? Yeah to me also damnnn. So, “end it”, “Harry”, or both? Poll time! Hair update: in a combined “you always come thru for your louies” and “you fucking demon troll” moment that's perfectly Louis he DID take his hat off to show us the glorious mane but I'm pretty sure he also trimmed it before the show! And: Hot Oli is already in the rearview I guess; ah we barely knew ye, but a new photog has appeared on the scene: enter Josh Halling (prev worked with Sam Fender) taking show pics today, including a super cool one on Louis' insta. Welcome to the team? Being a better guy than Jordan is a low bar, so just try to clear that one sir? And keep feeding us those great Louis pics! And: WBK Louis likes his backstage vodka redbull (and onstage 'water' bottles), and he confirmed between songs- “the power of vodka for me mate I’m loving it!” (straight? no, gay!). And: was the CK hoodie Louis was wearing in the pre show publicity photo (thanks Hot Oli) Harry's CK hoodie? Or simply a Copy of a…. well you know. And: hey guess what-- I gotta hand it to Veeps, against all odds that stream was flawless! Plus they got rid of the chat which was probably to facilitate that but also I simply appreciated it, good call. The Genius lyrics page for Copy of a Copy of a Copy did crash after the show though so it's cool don't worry; we've still got it. And finally: lots of people are talking now about how cool the show was but do any of them matter except DMAs reposting the pic on insta with hearts?! LOVE that for Louis.

And for the aftershow we got Louis on twitter! He thanked everyone (us, the crew, the band, Charlie, the strings, veeps, “all my personal team”), and answered a Q about doing another one-- “potentially but I doubt it, wanted to make this one special so no plans at the moment to do another.” About Copy he said “it will remain in the set for the tour and live shows but not sure when/if it will be released yet” but also re inclusion on LT2 “Probably but I want to keep all my options open. Very early in the process. Enjoy the moment!”

The rest of the day was pretty slow thank god, just some prerecorded content from Liam (a wizarding world spot) and a tik tok that's just him in the dark, shirtless, reacting to a fan screaming (literally) about how he apparently got relationship advice from Liam via facetime last night. And today's daily alarm, which was actually pretty wild, Liam and Roman reading a whole long rhyming poem about waking up! Very impressive indeed, I especially like when they rhyme “santa” with “banter”, perfectly British! And then also a strange interlude of Roman talking about how to impersonate Keanu Reeves, okay.

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Education: V Is For Vanilla (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, light dom/sub dynamics, light dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, protected sex, vaginal fingering, light breast/nipple play, nipple sucking, light biting, i think thats it, honestly this chapter is (as the title says) pretty vanilla. But things will get more intense in later chapters. 

Words: 7,128

A/N: ahhhhhh it’s finally here. This professor Rog idea has been kicking around my head for months now and finally I’m actually doing something about it lmao

This series is going to be LONG (like in my plan it’s 15 chapters) because I have So Many kinks I want to squeeze into it. Some were chosen by me and some were chosen by everyone who voted in the poll I put up a few weeks ago and i am seriously so excited about what’s coming.

Smut scenes in this and all future chapters will be marked with stars so that if there is a kink you’d like to avoid you can skip over it and still enjoy the rest of the series. 

Also, I know the chapter title doesn’t super make sense since he’s a university bio sciences professor which doesn’t have a lot to do with the alphabet but 🤷‍♀️ that was the working chapter title and it kind of stuck. Plus, ya’ll know I love chapter titles that have a theme lmao. Anyway, no more stalling. Enjoy the filth and start preparing yourselves for it to get so much filthier.

(the ultimate hot professor rog moment tbh)

@atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​ @hannafuckingsucks​​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​​ @johndeaconshands​​ @borhapbois​​ @stardust-galaxies​​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​​ @rogersslave​​ @scorpiogemini  

His office door was open when you got there which didn’t give you much time to hesitate or rethink your decision to ask your Professor for help. He would have seen you approaching or stalling in the doorway and invited you in anyway to query you about your reasons for being there. So, instead, you raised your fist and rapped a pattern on the door frame with your knuckles. “Professor Taylor? Can I have a word?” “Miss Y/L/N,” he seemed surprised to see you, his eyes widening behind his spectacles, “come in. What can I help you with?” You closed the door behind you and took a seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to remember how you’d planned to broach the subject. Professor Taylor – Roger, as you’d been told you could call him – waited patiently. “It’s tricky, Professor. Umm, see, well um,” “Is this something to do with the coursework? If you’re worried about the last assignment, you don’t need to be. It was really good, what you handed in.” “Really?” “Mmhmm. I was going to give you all feedback next week but if it’ll help put your mind at ease I can show you the comments I have for you early,” You were half a second away from asking to see them when you remembered that wasn’t what you’d come to ask about, “A-actually that’s okay Professor.” “Oh? So was it something else you wanted? I know that this Masters course is more work than previous classes you’ve had with me but you seem to be keeping on top of it all. I’m very impressed by what you’ve accomplished so far.” “Thank you Professor, but, um, that’s not really what I’m here about,” “No?” He leaned forward resting his chin on his hands, “You know, there’s no need to be nervous about talking to me, I’m not going to fail you,” he chuckled as he sat up straight again, clearly trying to lighten the mood though his expression became more serious as he said, “if you’re having trouble with something, or someone, please tell me and I will do what I can to help, whether it’s pointing you in the direction of someone more able to support you or talking to people on your behalf.” You nodded, feeling marginally calmer though still nervous, “I was actually hoping for some private tutoring,” “Oh? Well if you’d like to put your name down as a tutor I have a form here somewhere, if you fill it out I can pass it on and have your name added to the database,” Roger rifled through a stack of papers on his desk, only stopping when you spoke again. “No, not, uh, not tutoring work. I more meant tutoring from you. In an area that this Uni doesn’t provide classes in,” “Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to explain because I’m not quite sure what you’re after,” You took a breath and resisted the urge to speak to the floor, “My boyfriend dumped me last week.” “I’m sorry to hear that but I don’t see how-” “He dumped me because apparently I’m not kinky enough. I don’t know, he always wanted me to be super obedient in the bedroom but I never really understood it.” Roger shifted in his seat, “Miss Y/L/N I don’t think this is app-” “I want someone to explain it all to me, teach me how to be what he wants so I can get him back. If I can show him that I can learn, that I can submit in the way he expects, then we won’t have to break up. I love him and I’d do anything to get him back and I’ve been thinking about it and I think you’re the best person to teach me.” “I’m not sure I understand why you would come to me with this. I am very sorry to hear you’re dealing with that but it’s not really appropriate for me to be discussing such matters with my student.” “Just…” you held your hand up to try and stop him from standing and opening the door for you, “You must realise that you have a, um, a reputation.” Roger was taken aback by that, throwing you a confused expression as he settled back into his seat. “Surely you’ve heard the rumours about you. About what you like to get up to with women.” “I can assure you I haven’t,” “Seriously? Everyone talks about it. I mean part of it is probably just because you’ve got that whole DILF thing working for you so like half the students here have crushes on you. But then you throw in the gossip about how you like to tie women up and all the rest of it,” Roger closed his eyes as if he couldn’t quite keep up with everything you’d just said, “How- I mean, those rumours have no bearing on- on anything and they aren’t even- what I mean to say is-” “Professor, it’s okay. It’s just gossip, nothing serious in it. But if you do like that sort of thing, I could really use your help. I won’t tell anyone, all I want is my boyfriend back,” Roger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “This is insane, what you’re asking is insane.” “No it’s not,” “Okay, lets, Miss Y/L/N, just for a moment, let’s imagine that, hypothetically, I say yes to this. What then?” “Well, I’d expect we’d meet up once or twice a week, you’d teach me the basics of kink, anything you thought I should know. Then in four months’ time I can talk to Dylan and show him what I’ve learnt and he’ll take me back.” “Why four months?” “Oh, we’re pretty much guaranteed to see each other then. Two of our mutual friends are getting married and we’ll both be at the wedding. So will you do it?” “Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know that this is a good idea,” “Why not?” “Well our ages for one thing,” “So what? You’re mature and experienced and that’s what I need. Plus, surely having someone half your age throw herself at you is a bonus.” He smiled slightly, “All the same, it’s wrong. I’m your teacher.” “Exactly, who better to teach me?” “The ethics of this- and the rules of this university. If anyone found out I’d lose my job, you’d lose your place at this school so you wouldn’t get to complete your degree. Not to mention I’m sure you have family and friends who would chop my bollocks off before they ran me out of town.” “It’s not like I’m underage, I’m doing a bloody Masters. And no one would find out. We can meet in secret.” “It’s still so risky, Ms Y/L/N,” “Look, Professor, I wouldn’t tell anyone, you won’t tell anyone. As long as we’re careful about when and where we meet no one will find out. Please, Professor. I need this,” you thought you could see his resolve cracking but decided to give him a final push, “But if you really don’t want to then I’ll find someone else. I’m sure I can meet someone online. Fetlife? That’s a website for this kind of thing, right?” “Fine, I’ll do it.” He said suddenly, “But we do it my way. And certainly not on campus.” “Okay,” “Are you free tonight?” “You wanna get right into it?” “I want to discuss this further, off campus, to set some ground rules, and I think we’ll both be more comfortable discussing it over dinner.” “Dinner? Like a date?” “A business deal. Miss Y/L/N, if you can’t take this seriously,” “I can, I promise. Dinner where?” “Well, public places are out of the question. So you can come over to my house. Be there by Seven and make sure no one knows. Here’s the address,” “Thank you Professor,” Roger grunted as he scrawled his address on a scrap of paper, holding it out to you, “Go, out of my office before I come to my senses,” You nodded and scurried off, taking heart from the bemused tone behind his snippy words. In a matter of a few short months you’d be able to put this breakup behind you and show Dylan just how much he meant to you.

A few minutes before seven o’clock you rang Roger’s door bell, looking around at the long driveway and the tidy garden beds at the front of the house as you waited. He opened the door quickly and hurried you inside glancing around the front yard as if someone were spying on him. “I brought wine,” you said, holding the bottle out, “You’ve got a nice place,” “You sound surprised,” he said as he took your jacket from you and hung it on a coat rack to the side of the entrance before taking the wine with a gracious nod and examining the label, “Y’know being a university professor doesn’t actually pay too badly.” “Yeah but this place is massive,” He chucked, “I inherited a little from my Nan and Pop and then there was the album. That was enough to buy this place.” “Album?” “Oh, I was in a band in my youth, one mildly successful album and a couple of writing credits on the singles set me up nicely. Not nicely enough to retire on but still.” He shrugged as he led you through his sizeable house, up a set of stairs and towards the back balcony, “Plus, this place didn’t seem so big when I was sharing it with my ex-wife and our kids. Uhh, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Now, make yourself comfortable out here and I’ll just go check on the food.” You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the sheer number of rooms and hallways you’d passed as well as the fact that your old Biology professor had once been in a band. It was hard considering you’d only ever seen him presenting lectures to an audience of tired and often hungover students but you supposed he did have a kind of magnetism that would have been at home on a stage. Still, you’d have liked to see pictures.  

Roger returned a few moments later with two plates of food, a couple of wine glasses tucked in the crook of his arm. You quickly reached to relieve him of something, before one of the glasses could shatter and put an end to all your plans. Though perhaps a broken glass would have helped break the ice. It wasn’t the most comfortable dinner you ever had. You found it hard to swallow, hard to sit still, torn between wanting to jump right to the main topic and wanting to let Roger bring it up in his own time. The last thing you wanted was to come across as just trying to get a leg over the hottest professor on campus as if for a dare or a joke. Him retracting his agreement was a very close second last. Instead, you gulped down your drink and tried to focus on the reasonably nice meal Roger had prepared for you. Finally, after watching you top up your glass for the third time, he put you out of your misery. “Why me?” “What?” “Why did you approach me with this idea of…tutoring?” “Like I said before, the rumours abo-” “Okay but there must have been something beyond that. There could have been rumours about any staff member. If the school gossip had said Professor Richardson had a sex dungeon where he tied up women and spanked them, would you have approached him?” “So you have heard the rumours,” “Of course I have. Answer the question,” You stalled by taking another drink, though only a sip that time, “No, I wouldn’t have.” “So, why me?” “You’re hot?” Roger gave you a look you’d seen in the classroom – his stop fucking around look, usually reserved for first years who still treated dissection and cadavers as a joke. You shrugged, “You’re one of the best teachers I ever had. You always said we could come to you with any problems we were having and whenever I took you up on that offer to go over the coursework you were encouraging and supportive and knew how to push me in the right direction without giving me all the answers. I guess I felt like I could trust you. Like you’d take me seriously or at least hear me out before shutting the door in my face. And if the rumours happened to be false then you seemed like the sort of person who wouldn’t be offended by them or my proposition.” Roger smiled to himself, but it was only for a few brief seconds and then his professional demeanour was back in place, “Alright, well, I’m listening now so why don’t you tell me about this ex and the sort of things he requested of you. And then I’ll decide whether to kick you off my property or not.” There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t serious about throwing you out, but it didn’t stop you from feeling timid about the conversation, “Umm, okay. His name is Dylan. We were both in your Bachelor bio class, that’s how we met. Or kind of. We were aware of each other but went to different parties and hung out with different people. It wasn’t until last year that we actually met and got chatting and started seeing each other. I thought it was the real thing, like proper love, soulmate stuff. So when he broke up with me it took me completely by surprise. Everything felt perfect with him. Except for the sex.” You paused, feeling a little self-conscious about speaking so frankly about your personal life, and with your professor no less. Roger removed his spectacles and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt, “Ms Y/L/N, you’re going to have to be able to talk about sex with me if you actually want this to work.” “The sex was fucking great okay? Especially at the start. But the longer we went out the more he pushed for me to be submissive to him. He’d joke around about wanting to fuck me while I was asleep or mostly asleep, and he’d dirty talk by calling me his toy or saying that he owned me or sometimes about pimping me out to his friends. I indulged some of his ideas like when he wanted to be especially rough with me, pushing my head down into the mattress, pulling my hair, slapping me, things like that. And it was fun, but I never enjoyed it the same way he did and whenever he brought up the sleep stuff or if he tried to bend me over while I was cooking dinner I always stopped him. He’d laugh about it and say he was just joking but I guess he meant it more than I thought he did.” Roger remained quiet, watching you thoughtfully until he was sure you were finished, “If we did this what limits would you want in place?” “None. I want to be the perfect submissive for Dylan, I want to prove I can be whatever he wants.” Roger shook his head and put down his glass, “What was it you told Dylan when he suggested using you while you were in the middle of something or if he brought up the sleep stuff?” “I just told him no, I wasn’t into it or I was busy.” “Then that’s a limit. If you don’t want to do those things, that’s okay. Everyone has limits.” “But that’s the point. I need to learn how to be into those things so he’ll have me back. My limits are what made him leave.” Roger exhaled heavily though his nose, “Okay then, is there anything you would consider a turn off?” “I don’t know,” “Well I don’t believe that. I’m sure you have at least some idea of what you like and what you don’t.” “Yeah I guess I do but if I’m the submissive one then it doesn’t matter what I want. This is about Dylan and doing what he wants.” “Personally, I’m not big into feet stuff – toe sucking, foot jobs, anything like that – it just doesn’t appeal to me, whether I’m acting more dominant or more submissive, and I’ve made sure to tell every one of the women I’ve been with who hinted that they’d be into doing that kind of thing. A lot of women, in my experience at least, don’t like anal or things like knife play or scenes that feel violent or menacing.” He paused, watching your reactions, “From what you’ve just told me, it sounds like Dylan might be into free use and consensual non-consent so if either of those things sound like a turn off to you, you should let me know. Dylan will have limits of what he’s comfortable with and comfortable doing to others, I guarantee it. You need to make your limits known too. It’s all part of being in a D/S relationship and playing with any kind of BDSM type kink. The main rule we follow is safe, sane and consensual, and believe me, I will make sure we follow it during our lessons. So, is there anything you would consider a turn off or anything you wouldn’t want to do, even for Dylan?” “Can I think about it and get back to you?” “I suppose so. If it helps I can give you an idea of things I could teach you and you can tell me if any of them don’t feel right.” “Yeah, I think that would help,” “Alright umm, obviously because this is about what Dylan likes we should address consensual non-consent and free use at some point, but they would come later. Somnophilia too. I’d probably start with something easier or more common anyway. Spanking is nearly guaranteed, basic bondage methods – cuffs, ropes, that sort of thing – maybe some more extreme bondage too depending on how much you enjoyed the basic bondage. Ummm, choking, maybe some gags, tease and denial for sure. Any of that sounding too scary or intimidating or just not fun?” “They all sound okay I think, although some of them I haven’t heard of before.” “It’s a start at least. Of course, I would begin with the smaller kinks and work our way up to the more intense ones, and hopefully by that point we’ll both be more familiar with your limits and what you are interested in taking further.” “So, does that mean your agreeing to tutor me?” “I can definitely work with this.” “You mean it?” “Yes. Apparently I do.” He trailed his gaze over you for a moment, “How would you feel if I suggested we move this to the bedroom?” Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped your shock hadn’t shown on your face, “You want to start now?” “Sort of. What do we do at the beginning of a science experiment?” “Measure a control group,” “Exactly, you do a control before you mess with variables so you have something to measure them against. In this case, I think we’ll be able to tailor kinks to you better if I have some idea of what you enjoy during sex and what it takes to get you off. Is that okay?” “Yeah, of course, yeah. Makes sense.” “If you want to wait a couple of days we can,” “No, now’s as good a time as any. And the sooner we get into it all the better really.” Roger chuckled and stood, holding out his hand to help you out of your seat, “You’ve always been an enthusiastic student.”

Leaving your plates and glasses on the balcony table, Roger led you towards his bedroom. You wished you’d had a little more to drink, just to dull the sudden wave of nerves that had risen up. You were about to fuck a professor. Professor Taylor. It was a bizarre scenario you’d got yourself into and in an effort to distract yourself a little and calm down, you focused on his bedroom wall as he busied about closing curtains, eyes trained on a framed watercolour of a lake under some cherry blossom trees. “You like it?” “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s pretty,” “I got that while I was in Japan a few years ago.” You nodded, not sure what to say next. “Are you okay?” You turned and found Roger much closer than he had been a moment before. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes, sorry, just a bit nervous I guess. Feels kind of odd now that I’m actually here. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really expect you to agree to this.” “I did tell you your idea was insane. But that’s okay,” he slowly reached forward, his hand settling on your hip and gently tugging, encouraging you to step in closer, “It’s kind of weird for me too. So, we’ll go slow. And if you want to stop at any time we can.” You nodded, eyes glued to Roger, and let your tongue wet your lips. His eyes followed the movement, “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” There was a playfulness to his voice, teasing almost, and you found yourself relaxing and agreeing that you did. And for the first time you realised just what it meant for those rumours to be true. “So then kiss me.”

                                                     ****** 

A kiss you could do. Pushing aside the realisation that this was your first kiss since Dylan left, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Roger’s, though you pulled away quickly. Roger didn’t say anything, just waited, lips lightly parted. Your heart was racing with excitement and uncertainty, but you wanted more. He welcomed your lips the second time they met his, his hand gripping your hip harder now that he was certain you were going to stay. It was almost needy the way he kissed back, something you’d not have expected from your Professor. His nose bumped yours and yet he didn’t seem to care, leaning further into you, his tongue tickling your lip seconds before you felt it slide against your own tongue. Familiar but entirely different from the kisses you were used to. His hands didn’t move like Dylan’s did, not grabbing but gently squeezing, reassuringly firm. His leg was suddenly between yours and you took a step back in surprise. Roger followed so you took another and another until you felt the edge of the bed behind you. Dylan and your nerves almost entirely forgotten, you reached for Roger’s belt. He let you unbuckle it and pull it loose before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, kissing you between looks heavy with desire. He broke away for a moment and toed off his shoes, bending to take his socks off too, “So, is there anything you particularly like, any positions?” You copied his movements, kicking your own shoes just under the bed, “Not really. I can work with whatever.” “Stop trying to please me and tell me what you like Ms Y/L/N,” he said, reaching for your hips again so he could push your jeans down. “I mean I guess I like being on top, riding, whatever you want to call it.,” you quickly unhooked your bra and let it drop to the floor, “But Dylan tended to like me under him.” “New rule,” Roger said, kicking his own pants off his ankle as you tugged his shirt from his shoulders, “No talking about your ex when we’re this close to being naked. Okay?” “Yeah, sorry, good rule.” “Y’know I could have taken your bra off too,” “Faster this way,” “I’ll let you have it this time. But next time I unwrap you myself.” You shivered at the implications of the statement as Roger resumed the kiss and pressed you backwards onto the mattress, quickly climbing on top of you, his hands braced on each side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you once more, hungrily.

He didn’t stay there long though. A few seconds later he’d shimmied down your body, creating a trail of kiss warmed skin, until his face was positioned directly above your breasts. You raised your head and watched enraptured as he his eyes met yours, the hint of a mischievous grin lighting up his face, and then he lowered his lips to the top of your left breast. You let your head drop back to the bed and ached your back a little, pushing your chest towards him. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked, voice rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “what if I do this?” slowly he let his teeth sink into you, just for a second. It was enough to pull a small hum of appreciation from you so he repeated the action on your right breast. “Feels good?” “Yeah,” you breathed out, softly. “Yeah?” he asked, pushing himself up so he was straddling your waist, “What about this?” You felt his warm breath surround your nipple before you felt his tongue lap against it or his lips enclose it, letting your eyes slip shut as you drew your lip between your teeth. He seemed to appreciate the response and made sure to repeat the action a few times against each nipple, sucking on one as his gently flicked the other with his thumb. You tingled at the sensation of his warm saliva cooling and gently squeezed your legs together. “Don’t be shy,” he said, sitting up again and laying a hand over each of your breasts, “I can tell you enjoy it when I play with your tits,” You pulled in a shaky breath as he squeezed your breasts, “Mmhmm, yeah,” “Do you want some more?” “Yes, Professor,” He made a short clicking sound with his tongue, “I think we’re past Professor by now, you can call me Roger. And you can tell me what you want,” “I want more,” “More what?” You hummed again at the feeling of him massaging your boobs. “More what? Should I keep sucking on your perky fucking tits? Jesus they’re so fucking soft,” he cleared his throat and shook his head a little, “Or, should I give some other part a bit of attention? Your pussy’s probably feeling a bit left out, huh?” You’d expected him to boss you around, make demands, and you’d expected a bit of dirty talk (the kind where he’d tell you how sexy you looked or that he couldn’t wait to fuck you). But the reality surpassed everything you’d considered likely. You certainly hadn’t expected to get wet just from his tone and his words. And you definitely hadn’t expected to be doing what he asked, agreeing with everything he said. But that’s exactly what was happening, and it felt good. “Please touch my pussy.” “It would be my pleasure,” he smiled softly as he climbed off of your waist and pulled your underwear down, “and yours.”

The change of position gave you a moment to catch your breath but also to take in Roger’s appearance properly. You had to admit you liked what you saw. Of course, you already knew he was attractive. More than once you’d found yourself distracted in class, mind on what a cute bum he had or how shapely his hands were or else on his fluffy hair, light blonde but with streaks of grey blended throughout. He was the epitome of the hot teacher really, especially with his gravelly voice and the youthful sparkle of his eyes, magnified by his usual pair of glasses. What you hadn’t seen before, and what you were revelling in now, was his naked torso. There were muscles in his arms, not Hollywood style bulging biceps and you’d certainly never have noticed them under the sleeves of his work shirts, but they were revealed as he shifted his position and you had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze them. A light fuzz of hair covered his chest, though it was so light it was barely visible, and a marginally thicker thatch of it trailed down into his underwear. And in between was his stomach, the years of fatherhood evidenced by how it softly protruded out over the hem of his underwear. Once, a few years ago, someone had found a photo of Professor Taylor taken in the 90s when he was twenty-something and, thanks to the university meme facebook page and a few students with near influencer levels of followers, just about the whole school had seen it and had wet dreams about it. He’d been stick thin then, eyes ringed by dark grungy eyeliner, long messy hair falling about his face, and his plaid shirt unbuttoned. The Roger settling beside you now was miles away from that boy but you liked his current look, from his shorter hair to his rounder body, though he seemed to have the same skinny legs. “What are you thinking about?” he asked as he propped himself up on his elbow to look you over. “This is…better than I thought it would be,” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t know, I just...I could never picture it before, actually being with you. But you’ve made it feel easy and, well not normal, but y’know, not too strange either.” “So you’ve been liking it so far?” “Mmhmm, it’s felt really good,” “Good, that’s what I want to hear. But,” your breath hitched as you felt his fingers stroke between your legs, “experiments not done yet.” He watched his hand as it moved, his fingers sliding between your lips, spreading the wetness that had begun to pool with his earlier attentions. Each shift of his fingers pulled soft sighs and small ohs from you as the pleasure began to slowly build and you pulled him down into another kiss, wanting to feel him closer. He eased the first finger into you gradually, whispering questions about how it felt and if you were ready for more. You’d have expected his constant quizzing to be annoying but he peppered them between comments about making you feel good and dirty talk about getting you ready for his cock as he pulled your hand over to his crotch to give him some small relief. And somehow everything just seemed to turn you on more, his obvious desire to make sure you were comfortable included. You barely registered when he added the second finger, pumping both into you rhythmically as he delicately sucked at your pulse point, though you knew the third was coming, a response to your pleas for more. You’d meant his dick really, ready to move things along but he’d been adamant about making sure you were properly stretched out, not relenting until he’d fit four fingers inside you. “Fo-four?” you whimpered as he pressed the last one into you, “Three not enough?” “Just to be on the safe side. My cock is about average length but its girthy,” “I – oh Roger – It feels huge to me,” “Please, I’m 46, I know it’s not the biggest thing in the world. But I also know it doesn’t need to be to fuck you so right.” You weren’t sure how to reply though he didn’t give you many options, jerking his fingers inside you and making you moan. “I know there are nerves involved which can impact how wet you get and I don’t want to do anything that would cause you pain or discomfort, so I’m going to finger you until I’m ready to stop. You can beg all you want but I won’t fuck you until I decide you can handle it.” Even that was hot though you weren’t exactly sure why, but whatever it was you found yourself nodding in agreement, staring at him through eyes half lidded with pleasure.

When Roger was satisfied that you were ready for more than his fingers, he pulled them from you and got to his knees, shuffling around to rummage through his bedside cabinet. A moment later you realised why as he kicked off his underwear and tore open a condom. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, noting he’d described himself quite accurately. “Sorry,” he said as he caught your eye, “did you want to do that?” “No, that’s okay,” you chuckled, “just that Dylan never liked to wear them,” “Hey, we have a rule remember. And this is the first time I’m fucking one of my students, I’m not doing it raw, are you kidding?” “Sorry. And yeah, you’re probably right to use one.” “Hey, this is just the control remember. Condoms are a variable we can change later.” You laughed at that and nodded as Roger squirted some lube into his palm and began stroking himself, letting out small groans at the contact. “Are you going to fuck me yet or is there something else I have to wait for?” “Careful Ms Y/L/N, you know I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude.” He smiled as he crawled over you again, catching your lips quickly before he sat back on his heels and pushed your legs wide. With a final look, as if to give you a chance to end things before they went any further, he lined himself up and pressed himself into you. You gasped as he filled you easily, bottoming out. “God you feel good,” he panted, “are you okay? Can I move?” “Yeah,” you nodded, “please move.” He breathed out a small sigh as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, finding a rhythm. As he got more comfortable in the moment, Roger leaned over you again, pushing his face between your breasts and laving your skin with his tongue. He rediscovered the spots he’d found earlier, humming around your nipples and squeezing your boobs as he thrust into you. “Feel good?” “Yeah,” “You close yet?” “Not really.” “That’s alright,” he said softly as he readjusted his position, sitting back and lifting your legs over his shoulders. You felt the angle change as he fucked into you harder than before, his pace a little faster, “Play with your tits for me.” You didn’t hesitate to do as he asked, panting in sync with his thrusts as he dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in tight circles, forcing more moans and whines from your throat. “That’s right, tell me how good it is to be spread out under your professor, full of my hard cock. Christ you’re so fucking tight. Why didn’t I fuck you sooner?”.” You let your moans pick up a little as he ploughed into you, willing yourself to reach your climax. “Yeah? You like that. Are you close now?” “Uh-” “So no.” “Sorry, i-it just takes a while usually. I could f-fake it if you wa-nt to stop.” “No!” his voice sounded strained as he stilled inside you, “This is about getting you off and I will keep fucking you even if it takes all night for you to cum. I just need to readjust again.” Your laugh became a small whine as he pulled out of you and rolled you over so you were on top of him, “what are you-?” “Ride me. You said you like being on top so ride me,” You smiled and pressed your lips to his quickly before settling yourself over him and carefully sinking down into place. As you took him as deep as you could you halted a moment to enjoy the sensation of being full again, gently rocking your hips as you braced your hands on Roger’s chest. He held your gaze as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, pulling them out when they were dripping with saliva. He pressed them together with his thumb before bringing the wet digits to your right nipple, massaging it until you arched your back and tilted your head backwards. There was no way to resist any longer and you raised yourself on your knees before sinking back down, grunting as he hit just the right spot. “Better?” he grunted. “Mhmm,” you managed to get out before a moan, once again lifting and dropping yourself. You settled into the flow of it, the movement of your hips and the way you pulsed around him as you took him harder and faster, feeling the pleasure build and build and build. Until Roger’s voice, cracking with the effort, broke through your concentration. “Fuck, I’m close, I’m close. I’m gonna cum,” “Okay,” you said, not sure what else you could say, a little disappointed that it was going to be over before you could finish. So much for all night, though you supposed he’d only said that to help you relax and finish faster. At least it was hot watching him unravel beneath you, his grunts and groans loud and shameless, his hips spasming under yours. You waited until he was done, eyes closed and chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his breathing, and then lifted yourself to dismount him. Or you would have, except you felt his hands grab you by the hips and press you down again. “Your turn,” he said it so earnestly, no hint of the dominant teasing from earlier or any egotistical overconfidence, that you found yourself agreeing immediately, shocked into doing what he was guiding you to. You raised your hips again, let him pull you back down hard and before long you’d found your rhythm again. He let go of your hip, moving the hand to messily rub your clit as you shifted a little, changing the angle by a fraction. It was enough to have you careening towards the edge, even as Roger pulled air through his teeth as the extra stimulation. “So close,” you muttered before he could ask, eyes shut, intent on your mission. “C’mon, cum on my cock, show me how good it feels,” You nodded unthinkingly as he encouraged you, feeling it just out of reach until finally the familiar warmth washed over you, a long moan slipping from between your lips as you swivelled your hips, prolonging the orgasm as long as you could. “There you go, good girl.”

                                                      ******

Roger gasped as you climbed off him and carefully removed his condom to throw it out. “I could have done that,” “You did enough.” He was smiling when you turned back to face him and beckoned you over to join him on the bed once more, pressing a kiss to your jaw and the corner of your mouth before he found your lips again. You sighed against him, lost in the blissful warmth of the moment. “I’ll do it. I’ll tutor you,” Roger said after some time, his arm draped over your side, your faces inches from each other. “You mean it?” “Yes.” “Because I’m a hot shag?” He let out an exhale of laughter, “Because I would rather you learnt about that kind of stuff from someone like me than some random on the internet who thinks that being dominant means being cruel or causing pain. At least I can make sure you approach things from a healthy angle with your own enjoyment in mind as much as your ex’s.” “Thank you. So…when do we start?” “Give me a few days to plan out some lessons, put together a curriculum.” “Oh, so it’s going to be like proper tutoring then.” “You’re the one that came to a teacher about this.” “Fair enough.” You would have happily stayed there longer and you later wondered if Roger would have let you had an alarm on his phone not gone off, a reminder to put his bins out for collection in the morning. He frowned as he realised the time and glanced at you. The piercing melody had brought the reality of the situation back to both of you. “I guess that means I should leave, right?” Roger sat up and scooted a little further away from you, “Yes, you probably should.” He paused for a moment, “No one can know about this.” “I know, I understand. It’s our secret.” He pulled in a breath, “Exactly, our secret. Do you need me to call you a cab?” “No, it’s fine, I drove here.” “Okay. Well, why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you out.” “Are you okay with this? If you really don’t want to teach me, I’d understand.” “No I want to. More than I should.” “That’s okay. No one will know and we’ll do things your way, whatever you think is best.” “My way,” he muttered to himself, “Yes. Exactly. Okay. Um, tell you what,” he swung his legs out of the bed and bent forward to retrieve the underwear he’d discarded earlier, pulling them up under cover of the corner of the bed sheet, “I will grab my things and go collect our dishes from dinner. You can stay here and get changed and then when you’re ready to go, come find me in the kitchen, okay Ms Y/L/N?” “Sounds great, Professor Taylor.” He nodded at you once more before he left, bending to collect his pants and shirt on his way. You waited a minute or so, mind racing with the events of the evening and the promise of what would be coming, before you too stood and began to redress.

When you felt sufficiently tidy you stepped out into the hallway and headed in the direction you hoped led to the kitchen. Roger was there, redressed and hardly looking like he’d just got out of bed, leaning against the bench, eyes out of focus. When you arrived though his head jerked around towards your movement. “All good?” he asked, “got everything?” “Yeah, think so.” “Well,” he said, leading you towards the front door, “it was great having you. Over. Having you over. I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” “It was great for me too Professor.” “I will see you in class on Monday, don’t forget about that reading you’re meant to do.” “Got it. Um, can I ask about my next tutoring session, when would that be?” “I will talk to you about it after class on Monday if that’s okay.” “Absolutely, whatever works for you Professor.” He opened the door, standing on his side of the entrance as you stepped outside, “Right, well. Goodnight Ms Y/L/N,” “Goodnight Roger,” you said, quickly leaning in to kiss his cheek, “and thank you.” He still looked a little stunned as you got into your car, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.

[snarkwrites]

17.12, kissing booth, sweetpea

Title: kissing booth

Theme: holiday carnival/fair

Fandom / Character(s):Riverdale, Sweetpea x OFC, Alyssa Andrews

Warnings: Swearing, Sweetpea being a smartass, Reggie being an antagonist, and floofy kisses.

Word Count: uhh.. 1k-ish?, roughly.

Look.. I blame my niece for getting sucked into this show and fandom to begin with. I guess I just have a connection and deep love for grouchy types, because when Sweetpea was first introduced I was instantly hooked on the character. This is my daily entry for @champbucks​ 12 days of Christmas. Hope you guys enjoy it. I had a blast writing it. I guess sometimes it’s just fun to write something that’s not purely related to a thirst I happen to have, who woulda thunk it, huh?

Also, again.. I made the banner for this. Don’t steal or repost.

TAGGING:

There’s actually nobody on my riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be on it, let me know on my main to add you or click the lil link below and add thyself.

[ about my writing | masterlist | multifandom tag doc ]

“Oh come on!” Cheryl pouted, tapping her foot impatiently because she knows full well that I’m the only person her demanding and bossing around doesn’t work on. In fact, it usually makes me dig my heels in even more.

“I said I’m not doing it. Why do you want me to take two hours at the booth anyway, Cheryl? We both know there’s probably no one in Riverdale who will line up to kiss me. Can’t Betty or Veronica take the extra hour?” I eyed her, a brow raised.

“Actually, that’s where you’d be wrong, Alyssa. I have proof that you’re the one they’d rather have in the booth for an extra hour.” Cheryl dug around in her backpack and produced a piece of paper. I eyed her and then it, taking it with an amused laugh. “Right. You totally just fabricated this. I’m not doing it, Cheryl. Nope.”

From nearby, Toni spoke up.

“Doing what? What’d I miss?”

Cheryl beamed and went into Toni’s arms, hugging her, taking the paper back from me to show Toni and the two shared a laugh.

And then both of their gazes settled on me expectantly.

“Ah fuck. Look, I said I’d do an hour. That’s absolutely it. I’m already going to spend most of that kissing freshmen or something, shit. That paper proves absolutely nothing, by the way.” I nodded to the paper that Toni was now holding in her hands.

“We don’t have time to argue this. Jughead took Betty home and your brother’s spirited Veronica away. Everyone else has gone.”

“So have I. And I’m still not over that sophomore with the Hoover suction. Do you know that little shit tried to cop a feel?”

“Waaaa.” Cheryl mimicked. Toni leaned in, whispering into her ear and then Cheryl muttered “Interesting.” as her gaze fixed on me again. As Toni walked off, I pinched the bridge of my nose and eyed the empty chair. The booth was on a break right now. The line was pretty small.

Riverdale High needed the money. Taking on a whole other student body recently had pretty much depleted the school’s funds. Everyone else on my team had already gone. I eyed Cheryl as I mulled it over. “Is anyone else going twice?”

“Actually, both Toni and I are. Cheek kisses only, of course.” Cheryl gave me a pleading grin as her words fell away.

I felt a little better knowing that I wouldn’t be the only one being offered up for sacrifice twice. I tapped my foot and dragged my fingers through long red hair, giving it a tug. “Fine.”

Cheryl hugged me and I laughed, letting her. Even hugging back just slightly. “I’ll go take my seat I guess. But I’m telling you, my second turn is going to be a total bust.”

I caught sight of Toni talking to Fangs and Sweetpea over by the hot chocolate booth and I bit my lip, my gaze lingering on Sweetpea for just a few seconds longer than it should’ve. 

,, My fantasy kiss is not gonna happen. I can hang it up.”

That was my last thought before flopping into the chair positioned behind our booth. And nearly as soon as the few people waiting realized that the line was opening up again, they started to push to the front slowly. One or two walked away.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Three times. Then a fourth. But I wanted to just get my second turn in the kissing booth over with because I’d pretty much resigned myself to the fact that like my first turn, I’d have mostly underclassmen in my line. Or friends of my brother Archie. Luckily my brothers friends seemed okay with just a hug and a peck on the cheek. I hadn’t had to actually… Lock actual lips with anyone.

XXX

Sweetpea watched as Alyssa took her seat at the kissing booth a second time. Toni wandered over, tapping her best friend’s shoulder and nodding towards the booth. “Are you gonna stare all afternoon or grow a pair and get in line, Pea?”

“I’m not taking part in… that shit.” Sweetpea nodded his head in the direction of the booth. Toni reached into her back pocket and smirked to herself while Sweetpea was busy watching Alyssa Andrews get settled into the booth for her second go. “Yeah? Well if you won’t.. I have a long list of guys that Cheryl has spoken to who all seem to say that they’re more than happy to.”

She unfolded the paper right as Sweetpea heard her and focused. He reached for the paper, snatching it from her hands. His eyes darted over the poll and sign up sheet and then settled back on the red-head currently manning the kissing booth.

When his eyes got to Reggie’s name on the list at least three times, his fists clenched tight. He tugged at the collar of his tee shirt. It wasn’t a secret that Alyssa and Reggie liked to flirt back and forth and frankly, it was something that annoyed Sweetpea continuously. To a point where lately, it caused him to stay constantly irritated.

Especially when she’d blow off their little gang of friends to go on drives with Reggie.. Or study. Or grab a milkshake at Pop’s.

“She’s only doing this because she’s part of that stupid cheer thing.” he said it to himself, mostly to keep himself from doing something stupid and crazy and marching over, dragging her away from that booth and telling her that the only guy she needed to kiss was right in front of her. And had been for months now.

“Actually, she volunteered. And she’s the only one people have specifically asked for twice.” Toni shrugged as she tried to stop the laughter. Sure it was a small fabrication in details, but Sweetpea didn’t know that, nor did he need to. What he did need right now was a nudge. Because for one thing, Toni was beyond done with seeing him mope over Josie and their little fling ending. For another, the tension in the room between Sweetpea and Alyssa lately when they were all hanging out was almost unbearable. And rather than stand back and watch her grumpy idiot of a best guy friend let a chance at actual happiness pass him by, she was determined that today was the day. She was going to give him that loving but firm little nudge in the right direction.

Because lately, Alyssa was starting to think that Sweetpea didn’t feel the same way about her as she did about him, hence all the dates with Reggie Mantle. Toni was also sick of watching Alyssa try to feign happiness when lately, she’d been down. Because every attempt she’d made thus far to tell Sweetpea how she felt wound up Sweetpea, bringing up Josie in  conversation.. Or lately, with Alyssa just talking herself right out of it altogether.

Something needed to happen, otherwise someone was going to explode.

Reggie Mantle wandered over, getting into the line for the kissing booth. Sweetpea looked as if it were taking literally every single shred of willpower he possessed not to storm over and make a scene, especially when Reggie smooth-talked his way right to the front of the line almost.

“You know she’s only going out with him a lot more lately because the guy she really wants ahs made himself so hard to be around that we all wanna strangle him most of the time now.. Right?”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah? Let me show you something.” Toni grabbed her phone and held it out. “Have a read at our text history, Pea. See for yourself.”

Sweetpea took the phone reluctantly. At first, he was skeptical. By the middle of the most recent conversation, about Alyssa blowing them off to hang at the quarry in favor of going to watch Reggie at football practice because he asked and Alyssa admitting that maybe it was time she… Moved on. Got over her huge crush on Sweetpea… He wanted to kick himself.

His eyes fixed on the booth and his jaw set firm.

He knew her well enough to know that she’d never own up to anything she’d admitted to Toni in the texts. And he knew that lately, he’d made it almost unbearable to be around him. Picking fights with her, grilling her about pretty much everything. Just purposely being an ass.

His pride was going to cost him a shot with her if he didn’t swallow it soon. And the thought was not a pleasant one when it settled in his mind.

“Nothing to say, Pea?” Toni teased, flashing him a smirk as soon as she managed to break through his thoughts and gain his attention for a second or two. Sweetpea dragged his hand over his hair, taking a breath or two. Reggie was just about to the front of the line. His gaze fixed on Alyssa, almost as if he were willing her to look at him. Catch him staring.

“If you really want her to know how you feel and not have any doubts, you know what to do.”

Toni’s statement had Sweetpea wandering over to the line for the kissing booth. What Reggie Mantle had in charm, Sweetpea made up for in sheer intimidation skill and a second or two later, Reggie scowled as Sweetpea wound up right behind him in line.

“The hell are you doing, Serpent?”

“I know what you’re not gonna do, Mantle.”

Reggie whirled around, staring Sweetpea up and down. “You think so, huh? Watch and see.”

“I don’t fucking think so.” Sweetpea towered over Reggie, his fists shoved safely inside his leather jacket.

From the front, Alyssa cleared her throat. “It’s,uhh.. It’s your turn, Reggie.” she bit her lip as she looked back and forth between Reggie and Sweetpea. Sweetpea caught her gaze and held it, biting his lip.

After a little digging, he found a badly wadded twenty dollar bill.

Reggie sauntered up to the booth and slipped a five dollar bill down, giving Alyssa a playful gaze as he leaned in for the kill.

And Sweetpea’s fists clenched even tighter in his pocket. He barely managed to bite back a growl. And after about five seconds, he cleared his throat and spoke up, addressing Reggie.

“You’re holding up the damn line, Mantle.”

“I paid, Sweetpea. What are you even doing in the line to begin with, huh? Didn’t we have a talk about this Friday afternoon?” Reggie was body to body with him until Cheryl hurried over.

“Break it up you two!”

XXX

I think when I saw Sweetpea wandering over, my heart fluttered a little and I tensed up all in the same breath. I honestly thought he was coming over just to start something. To heckle me for offering myself up to do this. He looked mad.

Or I thought he did, at least.

When he didn’t start with the heckling and instead, intimidated about ten of the guys waiting in line to let him go before them, I found myself having a harder time focusing on the task at hand. A guy named Ben who played basketball with Archie every few weekends came up and put a dollar into the basket, chuckling as I rose to tiptoe and gave him a friendly and slightly awkward cheek kiss. He pulled me into a hug and muttered into my ear, “The rowdier guys are still waitin, red.. If you want me to hang around… Hell, maybe I should. Archie would kick my ass if somebody got out of line with his kid sister.” 

“Ben, I’ll be fine. I’m perfectly capable of handling things.” I explained, giving him a gentle smile and thanking him for the offer because his heart was in the right place. Reggie was next and I took a deep breath.

Truth be told, I was a little irritated because Reggie doing this made it kind of clear that Reggie was just going to try and find ways to skirt around any boundary I set. I got that this was in good fun, but there was a perfectly good reason I hadn’t really… Kissed him yet. Even when he’s tried to initiate at least two or three times now and each time, I’ve politely declined.

If this were a few months ago, I’d have jumped at the chance. I was shocked at myself when we were sitting in front of my dad’s house and he tried to kiss me the first time and I didn’t go for it then, if I’m being perfectly honest.

Because I’ve always had a soft spot for my brother’s friend Reggie. I guess that’s when it really hit me… After I met Sweetpea, a lot of things changed. And my feelings for Reggie just kind of slowly died.

The argument between Reggie and Sweetpea caught my attention and if I had any actual hope left of Sweetpea being into me like that, it would’ve grown as I listened to the words being exchanged back and forth before clearing my throat.

As I got their attention and for a few seconds, they glared one another down, I found myself kind of wondering what Sweetpea was up to. I honestly hadn’t even thought he’d show up at the carnival. I mean yeah, Toni most likely dragged him, but… He’s in line… For the kissing booth. And not just any line, my line.

My brain seemed to start working then and it hit me that in a few seconds, I was going to have to kiss Sweetpea.

,, I’ll give him a peck on the cheek. Because if I had my way and gave him a real kiss, things would get so awkward between us, holy shit..” the decision was made and I felt a little better.

Reggie finally approached the table and I bit my lip, eyeing him. I could feel Sweetpea’s intent stare burning a hole right through me, even as I pretended to be happy and interested in the kiss I was about to give Reggie.

Maybe knowing Sweetpea was watching was what made me decide to settle with a clumsy corner of the mouth kiss. Reggie muttered quietly against my mouth, “Red?”

“Sorry, I just.. I thought I could but I can’t.” I muttered so that Reggie could hear me. 

Reggie gave an understanding nod and smiled, shrugging “It’s cool. Do you wanna meet up later?”. I shrugged and told him I’d text him when I left the carnival if I felt up to hanging out or going to Pops and he walked away from the kissing booth, leaving me frustrated at myself and panicking a little because naturally, Sweetpea was next.

For a few seconds, I felt bad about the half hearted attempt. Especially when I thought back on just how wrapped up in Josie Sweetpea had been and just how little I’d given him hell for it in comparison to how much hell he’s put me through for going on a date or two with Reggie lately.

I zoned out a little, mostly just trying to pull myself together and in that time, Sweetpea stepped up and smacked a 20 dollar bill down on top of the table, gazing down at me expectantly as he swallowed hard and dragged his hand over his hair.

I eyed the 20 dollar bill and eyed him. “I,uhh.. A kiss on the cheek is only a dollar.”

,, you seriously open your mouth and say that?”

“Obviously, that’s not what I got in line for, princess.” Sweetpea muttered quietly, licking his lips as his gaze settled on mine. I gulped and I swear, it felt as if all the air got sucked right out of the space between us. I dragged my hand through my hair and raised a brow as his eyes left my lips and settled on mine, locking me in a gaze.

“Is this a joke?” I muttered quietly, dazed.

“I believe somebody once told me I have zero sense of humor, so no. No it’s not, doll. You gonna kiss me or not? I paid.” Sweetpea’s tone took on a hint of teasing and I felt my stomach starting to flop lazily, just like it always does when he’s in the rare mood to tease and make it hard for me to tell whether he’s flirting or just being a teasing ass.

I usually play safe and put my money in him simply being a teasing ass, but right now, I wasn’t sure what he was up to at all.

The way he was looking at me right now did not feel like Sweetpea teasing. The look in his eyes was downright hungry. 

“I..”

From the back, Reggie heckled. “What the hell makes you think she wants your disgusting Serpent mouth on her, man?”

I grumbled to myself quietly, frustrated because apparently, I was going to freeze up. “You don’t have to..” I trailed off. Sweetpea chuckled to himself and leaned across the booth, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of my neck, tugging at a handful as he pulled my mouth against his. His tongue trailed slowly over the outline of my lips and I whimpered quietly. The palm I had resting flat against his leather jacket wound up curling in it instead. His hand settled on my hip, guiding me partially over the table and halfway out the opening of the booth that we’d been leaning through.

I could feel my face heating up as people started to catcall and whistle and slow clap. When somebody said “Oh shit. Listen man, I don’t wanna die, I think I’ll just.. Wait for Cheryl to take over in a little bit.” I barely heard it, but I couldn’t help smiling into the kiss.

The kiss broke and I slowly raised my hand to my mouth, wiping the back of it across. I was beyond stunned at the moment. At a total and complete loss for words. But when Sweetpea leaned back in and pecked my cheek before whispering with a laugh, “Go on.. Finish working your kissing booth, princess.” and copped a feel, I bit my lip before pouting at him.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means, I’m gonna stick around. Keep these fuckin knuckleheads left in line from getting too much enjoyment, princess.”

“Oh, it does, hm?”

“I mean.. Unless you have a different idea as to why I kissed you like that, Red.” Sweetpea teased, smirking at me for a few seconds.

I eyed him and he muttered quietly, “Later.. We’ll talk, doll. The kiss was just something to think about.”

And somehow, god help me, I don’t think I’ll be able to get it off my mind for the rest of my time left to go in this booth...

[smolbeandrabbles]

Don’t Call Me Angel - Detective Meares x Reader (Needle)

GIF CREDIT: X 

All responsibility out the window here, I can’t claim any, it’s all Mendo Nation’s fault! No seriously they came up with it, I’m innocent I swear!

Author’s Note: “How did we get here!? Who brought us here!?” 

I stg, @mendelskrull​ and @crawlingmist​ started me on this damn man with digging up (and creating) gifs I didn’t even realise were a thing. And then I was like ‘you know I think I can probably get something out of him!’ and kinda dismissed that 500 words as all we were ever going to get.

Oh no. Then - rightfully so! - I did some campaigning for him on Twitter polls and now I’m here. 

I digress. I wrote more for Meares, and you’re welcome.

Disclaimer: This is not my idea/plot and is a joint effort of the Mendo Nation - who let me go ahead and write it / Needle naught to do with me / gifs & lyrics not mine

Premise: When Meares turns up at a crime scene and finds a second potential victim he’ll do anything to see the killer brought to justice, for her. If he can figure out who the killer is...

Words: 8277

Warnings: TW potential rape discussed / sexual connotations / sexual pre-amble / swearing / kidnap / I really tried to make that last scene as far from non-con as I possibly could but I still want to put a warning for it jic.

____

Don't call me angel when I'm a mess Don't call me angel when I get undressed You know I, I don't like that, boy I make my money, and I write the checks So say my name with a little respect All my girls successful, and you're just our guest Do I really need to say it? Do I need to say it again, yeah? You better stop the sweet talk And keep your pretty mouth shut Boy, don't call me angel, You ain't got me right Don't call me angel, You can't pay my price Ain't from no Heaven,Yeah, you heard me right Even though you know we fly, Don't call me angel You sizin' up my body, oh yeah Don't you know that I bite when the sun set?  So don't you try come around me Might work with her, but not me, oh yeah Don't you know that I bite when the sun set? Keep my name out your mouth I know what you about So keep my name out your mouth I appreciate the way you watch me, I can't lie I drop it down, I pick it up, I back it off the county line I fell from Heaven, now I'm living like a devil You can't get me off your mind I appreciate the way you want me, I can't lie I drop it low, I back it up, I know you wanna think you're mine Baby, I totally get it, you can't guess so You can't get me off your mind We in it together, but don't call me angel

---

Abandoned building in the middle of nowhere – that wasn’t so unusual, not for a crime scene anyway. This was the kind of place he half expected to be sent to. Not that he particularly wanted to go – another Detective had been on the case this morning, but apparently something a little more interesting had come up for them and so Meares was thrown the file. ‘So… where’s my crime scene?’ in fact, he wasn’t even sure he was in the right place by the fact there appeared to be no officers guarding the scene. Only the tape strung across the front of the building let him know that’s exactly where he wanted to be. Maybe they’d all just been lazy and decided to clock off for the evening? He ducked under the tape and flicked his torch on, which he still needed because the lights in the warehouse were so goddamn dim. But why had everyone left? The sheet was still over the body and to him that only signalled that the scene had yet to be fully processed. ‘Fucking bastards sending me out here…’  He huffed, ‘If they’ve all miked off drinking I swear to GO---D.’ He noticed how he was also alone out here and his partner, Detective Reddick, didn’t want to bother driving across town for it either. “Aw, nah, it’ll only take one of us. Report back..!” Cursing again, Meares approached the victim, he supposed he might have to start this alone. Bending over he grasped the corner of the white sheet delicately – having learned from previous crime scene interactions that sometimes he could be a little too flamboyant in his actions and there’d been a few ‘incidents’ – and stood to height as he pulled the fabric back from the body. Respect the victim - a little easier when he was alone… Meares guessed that sometimes he just liked being a show off and it was an unfortunate trait he couldn’t help. He jumped as he surveyed the body, just one glance over – his stumbled footsteps echoed around the warehouse, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Meares checked his papers, then the body, then the papers again, then the body… That was not a ‘white male, 20s, average build, deep lacerations, bruising and ligature marks’. This was a very naked (but very beautiful) woman; possibly around the same age bracket - but the body itself looked intact. “Okay. Who is out here pranking me now!?” Had someone switched files? Had someone told him the wrong location? No, no, how often did that happen? Everything else about his file was right, apart from the body. Meares tipped his head, tongue between his lips as he drew his eyes back up her. He rolled it with a small tsk sound, and then knew he was smirking. It was probably very inappropriate to think that a potential victim was hot, even when it was as confusing as to why this was the body in front of him. But her form dipped and curved in just the right places, her skin very nearly perfect… Meares wouldn’t have guessed she’d been dead too long, but also didn’t see any way that she could have died. He stepped carefully around her, her eyes may have been closed but she had an Angel face to match her body, Meares thought hard; ‘more importantly, why is she at my crime scene? And if she is here… where is the real body?’ He let his eyes linger on her for a little too long, and felt that guilty blush build up on his cheeks, travelling fairly swiftly to his neck… but the rush of blood travelled a little further than expected. NO. NO. C’mon, man… He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. But found himself suddenly sad that she was the victim; of course, every victim was difficult but as a detective he had to do his best to separate- “Is it her or her body, though? C’mon. You have nooo idea what she’s-” Meares paused, “Aw, great, I’ve finally cracked I’m talking to myself at a crime scene.” He stopped his walk, palm to his forehead for a minute, “Well, nothing like an expert opinion!” He looked her body over again. No, he was fairly certain there was no obvious sign of trauma. Nor anything to indicate any other type of foul play. And it still bothered him that the body was supposed to be male-! ‘It sure does feel like a set up…’ And of course, forensics had all cleared off. He took one more step towards her; maybe Meares just wasn’t thinking clearly enough. ‘Too distracted, obviously.’ But also maybe he just wasn’t looking closely enough. His eyes lingered on her face ‘Who are you? Why are you here? Who did this to you..? C’mon, darling, I need answers…’ Meares didn’t have a chance to think much more than that; her eyes snapped open. If he thought he’d jumped back before, his string of yelled expletives matched the pounding of his heart in his chest as his adrenaline spiked. Yeah, dead bodies did that, occasionally – but dead bodies did not then take dry choked breaths that then became something close to strangled sobs. That didn’t surprise Meares either; she’d practically been declared dead, she was in a middle-of-nowhere warehouse, naked, and a male detective was now standing over her and – by his own admittance – probably looking a little leery. When her eyes focused on him all he saw on her face was terror, she pulled her knees up, arms around her body to cover herself as she attempted to scramble away. Meares threw his hands up, immediately going for his badge, “Hey, hey! It’s okay! It’s okay! My name’s Detective Meares. It’s alright – I’m here to help… I promise… you’re alright now.” He wasn’t sure she trusted him, and her nails dug hard into her skin. Meares shrugged himself out of his jacket, levelling his voice off in hushed tones. “You gave me quite a scare there you know?!” He smiled as he held it out for her, “I’m here to investigate a body, although believe me I’m glad you’re not one… take it. It’s okay… We should probably get you outta here…” He watched her slip it on, buttoning the front up to look as modest as possible, but she still shivered. “You… got a name?” Her eyes raised back to his face, but suddenly she shook her head, “I don’t…” “Remember?” Her nod was certainly sad and he didn’t want her to panic and spiral, but anything he could get now would aid his case greatly, “Do you remember anything? Why you’re here, what happened? Anything about who did this? What about your clothes honey, do you know what you were wearing?” She continued to shake her head, and Meares certainly didn’t want to stress her out any more than he had to. “Okay, it’s okay, this happens. I’m sure it’ll come to you. It’s all going to be fine. But, I should really get you over to a hospital.” “I don’t-” “Honey it’s procedure, I don’t have much of a choice,” he held his hand out for her, “you’re safe with me. No one is going to hurt you.” She placed her hand in his delicately, and Meares felt like he was going on some kind of power trip, but not a bad kind of trip; she trusted him. He was going to protect her now, that was his duty. He pulled her up, trying to keep his eyes on her face. “Thank you.” “Hey, we’re not there yet, you can thank me later. Let’s make sure you’re all okay, right now. Come on, I’ll get you to the car and get you warmed up.” He didn’t touch her as he led her to it, opening the door; Meares would put the heat on for her, he’d pull up to the hospital and they could do tests and maybe he’d get some more evidence from her… And she’d remember too, once she was over the shock, he was sure. He slid his mobile out of his pocket, calling his partner as he jogged around to the driver’s side of the car, indicated that he should meet Meares at the hospital and they could figure it out from there. The detective paused, looking back at the building for just a moment as he opened the door… There was just once problem he couldn’t quite figure out here. “Where the fuck is my actual body, though?!”

** You kept glancing across to the detective as he sped towards the hospital, and you did mean that – Meares was running every light and had his blue lights flashing. He looked on the verge of his 40’s, messy greying black hair and piercing blue eyes – though the true colour seemed fleeting as they changed with his emotions. And those were all over the place right now, that much was obvious. Although he appeared to be being the gentleman, sometimes he couldn’t help but look over at you – and his glances to your body weren’t very fleeting, either. In a normal situation you supposed you would be flattered, but right now you were having doubts you could trust him to be taking you where he said he was. ‘No… He’s a detective. He surely wouldn’t take advantage of that?’ or, maybe he would; how much did you know about Meares anyway? Maybe not a lot; but he was very easy to read on the surface so you didn’t think that figuring him out was going to be much of a challenge. Eventually you started seeing the Hospital signs and could breathe a real sigh of relief; okay… you could trust him. Upon pulling up you noticed several other police vehicles waiting around outside – all with their lights also flashing. You gasped and visibly shrank back in your seat; Meares turned to you. “Don’t worry, I called for backup, they’re good guys. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He opened his car door. “I’ll be very quick, okay, just wait here. We’ll get you checked up.” You reached for his hand before he had a chance to leave and held him there for a minute, Meares thought that you might be about to thank him, but that wasn’t what came out of your mouth: “Y/N.” “…What?” “…My name. You asked my name.” You found yourself taken aback by how gentle and sweet his smile was, “Y/N, you remembered… That’s good progress. Real good progress.” His large hand enveloped yours for a second, “Excellent! Now just, wait here, the hospital will help you out!” By the time Detective Meares exited the car and found his partner he was panicking again, ��God damn, Meares-! What the hell is going on!” “You tell me! They send me to a crime scene where somebody is supposed to have been cut through, and I find a live woman there? What happened to all the investigators!? Anyway, that isn’t the point, she’s sitting in my car, I don’t know who she is – she’s barely remembered her first name – she doesn’t know how she got there and she’s half naked! And that’s only cuz she has my jacket! Who does that to a girl and leaves her in the middle of a crime scene!?” Reddick wiggled his eyebrows, “Naked ehhhhhh?!” Meares immediately hit him, “No! She’s a victim, quite possibly a witness once we get through to her!” Although his face burned, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought the same thing. “…Well they knew someone would find her in a crime scene?” “Logical if it was accidental but then evidence has been moved, where’s the logic there, huh?” “Maybe forensics has the body.” “…Then why send me with the damn report like a body is there?” “Because they don’t like you, Meares?” “Fuck that. No wonder this department is a laughing stock…” He sighed angrily, “Look, if we have the body, great, but someone has tampered with that scene, and there’s either a secondary scene for her, or new forensic evidence at this one. Get down there with some people and figure it out.” His partner groaned, “Why me!?” “Because I’M staying with the victim for questioning, and hospital test results. I found her, her mind is clearly fragile, right now I am the familiar face-!” “Shouldn’t you be telling the department all this?” Meares glared at him, “Quit whining! Sure, I’ll do it. Can you please get down there – I really don’t want to leave her alone too long!” “Fine… fine, I’m going, but then get them to come straight out to me.” Reddick peered around his friend, “She’s a good-looking girl.” “Y-Yeah.” Meares also turned on the spot, you were looking at the hospital nervously, chewing your lip, “She is.” “And you’ve seen her naked.” There was a waiver of amusement in the other Detective’s voice, Meares turned back to him, snapping: “Will you get out of here!” ** Meares hung around in the hospital as long as he could before they forced him to leave to conduct their tests. Not before he took your hands and promised you he’d be back as soon as they let him. You did trust him, you knew that already – right now he seemed like the only person you could trust; and he’d brought you to a hospital and he trusted them to take care of you. You took a deep shaky breath as he let you go, but you knew everything was going to be okay. Once outside he called his superiors to tell them the news. That he’d found a secondary victim and that Reddick was back at the scene to retrieve any other evidence – luckily that was met positively and a forensics team was dispatched. Although Meares did mutter something about lack of communication under his breath. He had to voice his concern now: “There were no police or detectives on the scene – things have been moved, or must be missing. Someone got a second body in there between them packing up and me arriving. And conveniently no one was around to see anything!? And if I just missed them, then I’d say the killer was watching us, or the building. You have the body right-!?” “Yes. Meares, don’t you worry about that.” “Why send me with paper work?! This all seems fairly suspicious to me!” He was rambling and he knew that he probably shouldn’t have let that become more than just a thought, but Meares couldn’t help it. “You’re not shouting conspiracy, Meares?” “Are you giving me reason to?” There was silence for a moment, before a heavy sigh, “We’ll put you on the case team, see what you can get from our live victim.” “Thank you, Sir. They’re going to call me when the tests are finished.” With that they both hung up, but Meares couldn’t help but think that something was going on: after all, he wouldn’t exactly have called that answer straight. Much more like a bribe not to mention it. Someone isn’t saying something Meares… Watch your back… Was the only conclusion he could draw, dropping his mobile into his pocket he leant his head back against the waiting room wall and closed his eyes. He’d figure it out; that was his job. *** He was woken by a nurse, who led him into a back room. “Well, it’s all fairly conclusive Detective.” “I do like easy.” Meares grinned, but she didn’t find his joke attempt amusing, so he cleared his throat, “What happened to her?” “A fairly heavy dosage of sedative. Ketamine.” “She was drugged? That makes sense… isn’t that like a date rape drug?” “Correct. Although the rape kit has come back negative. And she didn’t ingest it, it was injected into her.” “Someone really knew what they were doing.” She nodded, “She’s not a regular user?” “No. No recent tracks or scars in her skin, she’s clean apart from this.” Meares nodded, mulling the information over, “You say fairly heavy… enough for the memory loss she’s experiencing? There’s also gotta be a reason why I didn’t realise she was alive, right? But Ketamine elevates heart rate?” “In small doses – but this wasn’t a small does, Detective. As for her memory, I wouldn’t say so but it could be a stress reaction, we don’t know what else happened to her tonight, or at any other point. It doesn’t have to be related to the drug.” “I guess I’ll only find out when her memory returns.” “Yes, but she’s doing very well, she’s certainly open to talking to you – in fact she asked for you.” “No doubt, do you think she’s ready for questions?” “Go easy on her, Detective.” “Oh, I promise.” Meares nodded, and he meant it, “Just one last thing. I found her at a crime scene, we had a body that had been almost completely lacerated. When I turn up on the scene her body is in the same place. Could… could it have killed her?” “Any sedative in a high amount could yes, but not the amount in her. Perhaps it is only to sedate the victims until the killer is ready to…” the nurse paused, not willing to spout conjecture, “I will say this, at least, she’s very, very lucky you found her Detective. Less she become just like your body.” “On that, I’m sure we can all agree.” When Meares reappeared in the room that you’d been set up in, your heart couldn’t help but give a flutter of excitement – he surely was a very attractive man, and kind too, although you weren’t sure if you could call him your knight in shining armour. A knight in one-hell-of-a-suit, maybe. Though you noticed his shirt was untucked and his tie a little more slacked than it had been previously. You were dressed in a hospital gown now, but you were still clutching his jacket. His scent was unfamiliar to you, but it was one you liked. Meares sat next to you, once again taking your hand in his; you thought your pulse might run wild and suddenly felt light headed – but you controlled it. “How are you feeling?” “Alright, considering what happened… And thanks to you, god knows what would have happened if-” He stilled you, “Hey, you don’t need to think about that. Sounds like you were on one hell of a trip!” the grin indicated he had just cracked a joke, although your laugh was more embarrassed than anything else, “I… suppose.” “I’m sorry-” His eyes left yours, “I have… never been too good with my comedic timing. I wanted to ask though, Y/N, if you’d be up for answering some questions of mine?” You weren’t sure how much help you’d be, but you certainly wanted to help him. “Of course, Meares, anything.” Anything. His heart almost skipped at that, heat rushing back to places it had no business being. Anything was a big word, and he could think of plenty of things he wanted that were certainly not appropriate to bring up right now! He took a slow breath, c’mon. Be professional! For once! “Well, hey, we have your name now at least. And I have a little data on you from the hospital – with your consent to use it, of course. So, I know your address, we can get you back home, maybe that’ll help too.” Yes, he had your name, and you certainly liked the way he said it. “Oh, of course, use whatever will help your case.” Meares nodded gently, “Well, let’s start simple, do you remember what you were wearing?” “Uhm. Yes.” Although you chewed your lip, blushing – and he caught the red. “It’s okay, it stays in this room.” “Just a short black dress, off shoulder, low cut. Maybe even very low cut. Small split up the side… I remember… I remember thinking that I had to wear my sexiest dress. That was very important.” He raised an eyebrow, “Hot date?” “I-I don’t think so.” Although maybe you’d count this… interview… “Shoes?” “Good heels, yes. But also black, nothing fancy. Uhm, some… obscure brand that you only find in stores like T.K.Maxx…” “So we’re looking for a dress and heels. That’s good, you’re doing great.” He squeezed your hand, “Anything else?” You shook your head, “No, I… I wasn’t wearing-” “Oh. Oh, no, that’s- That’s okay… Dress, heels. We’re hoping your items are at a secondary crime scene. So, any detail is good. Do you remember anything, about where you were?” “…Some crowded part of town. I know, that doesn’t help any but…” “Well, do you have any idea what time? We have plenty of ways of figuring out where – sounds like you’re heading for a night out.” “Yeah, uh, 9:30, maybe closer to 10?” You scrunched your face, “That’s habitual. I don’t think I was meeting someone…” “Well, there’s security footage in the busy parts of town as you can imagine, so, I’ll get a team working on that.” “Thank you.” You took his other hand, and instinct laced your fingers with his, “Meares, I… I don’t know what I would have done if-” “I said don’t think on it. You’re safe. Keep moving forward, okay? Well, okay, maybe any information you do remember would still be good!” You giggled, then gathered his jacket and held it out for him, “And for this, especially.” “Oh!” He looked a little bashful for a second, “It’s not anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.” “But it was you.” There was another silence of understanding as you looked into each other’s eyes; his really did change just like weather. “No…” His tone was quiet, and he pushed it back at you, “Keep it. It looks good on ya.” “Y-You think?” “Mhm.” That small smirk was playful, and made more than just your stomach flutter. Oh… “Well, I guess I should thank you once more, detective.” “Don’t mention it… Just keep talking, maybe that’ll trigger something.” He had the right idea, but for the investigation it proved rather fruitless. Eventually he stopped you, just because you were getting so worked up about it not being useful. But he did learn a little bit about your life, even the most random of details helped Meares build up a picture of you, and that could really help him figure out the ‘why you’. It wasn’t necessarily the same person that had done this to you as had killed the first victim, but if it was there could be a connection somewhere. Perhaps a crime of opportunity, but that was down to Meares and his detective skills to figure out. Some details that you could remember were patchier than others, and as you struggled with the want to give him more information you became less forthcoming with anything you thought was unusable. Meares had taken notes and finally pocketed his notebook. “Y/N, I promise you, everything you’ve told me is important. It helps us build a profile of the person we need to catch too. Maybe there’ll be similarities between you and our victim. Trust me, in an investigation like this no detail is useless or too insignificant. Everything counts. And you’re brave for going through this with me.” He stood, leaning forward he kissed your forehead and you gasped, making him think that once again he’d screwed up professionally. Though Meares was hardly sure he was thinking professionally at the moment; you were a nice girl. Someone he’d actually want to hang out with… that wasn’t just your body talking to him, although that was a somewhat delightful image still burned into his head. He would do anything to bring the person who had done this to justice, he vowed that to himself. “Stay in the hospital tonight, just make sure you’re okay and I’ll come back in the morning, alright?” You nodded, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, Meares.” Today, by the looks of his watch, but it was still dark. Not tomorrow until you’ve been to bed-! was a rule he liked living by. “Goodnight, Y/N. Try to get some rest.” You smiled, watching him leave, and wishing he didn’t have to go: “Goodnight Detective, you too.” *** Meares did turn up at the hospital the next day for you, and seen as they were good with discharging you, he offered to drive you home. At first you thought that would be fine but, under Meares’ gaze in his car, this time your heart kept running away with your thoughts. He really was gorgeous, and now you were seeing him in natural lighting those blue eyes were even more stunning. Even when you stole glances at him and traced that side profile… Should you be thinking this way about him? Meares was supposed to be investigating what had happened to you, after all. You doubted he’d be able to have a relationship with you; not when the investigation was open. He’d noticed these shy little glances of yours and could barely hold that smirk back, you must have been checking him out. Meares was fine with that of course – and this morning you’d walked out of hospital with his jacket on, and he wasn’t reserved about admiring you in it, especially now sitting in his car again. He knew your address but he was certainly taking the scenic route, Meares’ drive was leisurely at most. Once he did pull up at your home, you were both clearly disappointed. You hesitated, staring up at your front door. Thinking he should probably be being the gentleman right now, Meares rounded the vehicle to open the car door for you – but you just kept staring forward. “I don’t want to go.” Your voice was timid, but he still caught it. “What? Why? You’re home.” “I don’t feel safe here. Not alone.” You shook your head, seemingly shrinking back into your seat, “I can get people posted, or watching the house, if you’re not comfortable.” You shook your head again, “What if whoever did this is watching the house-!? What if they’re waiting for me to be alone, Detective?!” Meares opened his mouth to try to calm you down, but this time his joke faltered. He couldn’t forgive himself if something happened before he arranged for someone to watch out for you. “Y/N… I don’t know what else I can really do with you.” Your big eyes looked up to his, pleading, “Can’t I stay with you? For a little? Until I feel safe again.” He almost did a double take, and hoped he looked level and not like he was about to punch the air – a little like what was happening in his head – “…I don’t know if my supe’s are gonna like that. But I can sure ask. They might pull me off the case to do it. But your safety should be paramount, and you’re a key witness. It’s just-” You knew exactly what he was getting at but tilted your head, “Just what, detective?” Meares for once opted not to run his mouth, and swallowed thickly eyes flicking down your body again – he hoped inconspicuously – “…It’s nothing. Don’t worry. I’ll call them. I have a spare room, don’t you want to collect some things first… though?” So, Meares found himself dropping you at his house. Although he didn’t see how this was helpful for you, considering he still had to leave you alone and work on the case at the precinct. He guessed no one was going to think of finding you here. And, obviously, he was secretly elated… Even though Meares guessed he was about to get heavily reprimanded for this. And he was laid into quite hard, despite his – fairly calm – explanation as to why. Oh yes, of course he wanted to raise his voice, yell about it to be heard – but he didn’t think that would help him in keeping you at his. Upon offering to hand the case to someone else in exchange for making sure you were truly safe, his superior immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve done the hard work.” “I don’t want to compromise anything!” “You should have thought about that before you agreed to let her stay.” “So pull me off, like I said. You have my write up… She’s scared, she doesn’t remember things, I found her… I just think giving her some familiarity and comfort right now is a good idea.” “Familiarity? In a house she’s never seen before?” “You… know what I mean.” “Just, be sensible, Meares.” “Yes Sir.” “You do know how to do that, don’t you?” Meares made the mistake of laughing, and it wasn’t met well, before he turned serious: “Y-Yes. Of course.” The case itself brought about good progress very quickly, with all your files back from the hospital and his own notes – coupled with what they knew about the victim, and witness interviews begun, the team were beginning to shape a picture of events. Fingerprints and DNA helped narrow the list of people who would have been around the warehouse recently, and soon interviewing witnesses became interviewing suspects. Your dress and shoes had been found well within a mile radius from the warehouse, and whilst sweeping the areas around, needles – one containing Ketamine – were also recovered with the DNA of both you and the victim. General consensus was the killer had tampered with the crime scene. That raised questions of its own; why, and how had they been able to? Meares believed that’d lead to some internal investigation – and he was still mindful to be cautious around others in the department - but right now catching this person was paramount. *** Your relationship continued to grow. Although Meares was very careful with what he told you. You understood why, this was his job on the line after all. But of course he kept you updated on your own case; he was determined to catch the person who did this. It was good to see how joyous he became the more information he gathered, and how Meares would always announce ‘we’re close!’ if you asked for an update. You weren’t sure exactly how true that was, considering he’d been saying that for weeks, but you couldn’t help but be happy that he was happy. Detective Meares made you feel safe, safer than you had been for a long time. And as you started to remember little pieces that would help him, Meares got excited to grab his little recorder to make sure he had everything right. You continued to get closer, and you were sure by now you’d outstayed your welcome at his place and you should be heading back home – but neither of you raised the subject of you leaving, and he never asked if you were safe enough to go home, even though it was obvious by your attitude and body language that you were. It started slow – to build to something more than the victim and the detective who had saved your life (probably), you were sitting on the couch together watching TV. Not even a movie, just news reports, but you leaned into him, head on his shoulder. For a moment Meares tensed – not in an uncomfortable, ‘I don’t want this’ way, but in a ‘is this really happening?!’ way. Meares didn’t dare breathe for a minute, and yet as if to prove how much you meant it, you cuddled into him a little more, soaking up his bodily warmth. Meares’ smirk was a little too smug, but you were smiling too, and your cheeks began to hurt as his arm snaked around your shoulders and he pulled you a little closer. Meares knew he probably shouldn’t be doing this. But, fuck it, when had he ever really listened to rules and procedure? You were beautiful, no, you were gorgeous. Wasn’t it the first thing he’d noticed about you anyway? He pulled your body into his, hand settling on your waist; and you didn’t complain. Maybe Meares was right, maybe you wanted him as bad too. Was that a good thing? Well, he knew he would certainly choose to believe it was.

 Pretty soon that dynamic changed, and cuddling on the couch turned into making out on the couch. It didn’t take much persuasion; he’d been staring at you like that ever since he’d first met you and you were certainly hot on him too. As you both leaned closer Meares tilted his head, smirking “Whatcha thinking about Angel Face?” And how you almost returned his smirk as you looked deep into those ever-changing blue eyes, “Kissing you.” Angel Face - That was his nick-name for you, even if he wouldn’t admit how he came to that conclusion, and it just stuck. You soon found out that if you ran your fingers through his hair Meares would groan into the kiss - and it was no wonder that he always liked his hair being messed up. Clearly it was even better for him when you did it. Professionalism be damned, the detective was not about to resist you. And he’d offered to be off the case, fair and square, he didn’t see how they could blame him now. Especially when you looked like that.

Being with him was just so easy; old enough to know better, young enough to still be playful - but he could bounce back from any fuck ups, a little headstrong and rough around the edges… No one was ever perfect though. A good man, even if he spent his time making inappropriate comments or jokes - just as often in content as in his timing. But all of that just made you love him more, that attractive face of his (not to mention his voice) was the best bonus. It only made you wonder what was under his clothes… after all, he already knew what was under yours. And you were fairly certain that was an image burned into his head.

This meant Meares had a particular way of staring at you; you wouldn’t call it predatory, but it had that kind of effect on you. Your pulse ran and your eyes widened and sometimes you struggled to breathe against the weight of his stare; drawing his eyes slowly up and down your body, tilting himself to get better views of you. The way his lips parted and he ran his fingertips over them, or sometimes his tongue before he smirked. Of course he wondered when he’d get to see you naked again. You weren’t sure if that made you more or less scared of it being an eventuality. Sometimes you shied away from him completely. Sometimes you had the confidence but found yourself unable to speak it.

Today was not either of those. Today the stars aligned all from a seemingly innocent sentence. If Meares hadn’t wondered aloud if you were ready to return back to your own house then you probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity to take his hand and turn him back to you. You found the words to be honest: “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to be alone. Or without you. Again.” For the first time Meares saw something in you that he hadn’t before. Whilst the sentence had been said in all innocence there was a wildness in your eyes. An untameable force that somehow you were holding back. You very nearly stole his breath with that look alone. He kissed you hard and fast; slipping out of his own jacket before reaching out to pull your hips to his.

When he broke away from you, the look on your face was of slight wonder. Yet that wildness was still there - and the trembling he felt under his fingertips was not because you were nervous and scared. It was because of what you were holding back: this didn’t match the personality that you’d been showing off to him; shy and sweet and delicate. Meares wondered which was real, this or the girl he thought you were just pretending to be. Cupping your face in his large hands his next kiss was delicate, lips barely touching yours. “Don’t hold back now Angel Face.”

He found himself yanked back to you almost angrily by his tie, the look in your eyes not hiding now. Oh, you didn’t intend to.

 ***

 He was falling for you. And hard. Meares didn’t want to call it love yet, but he thought it could be. He wasn’t sure he was simply in lust with you - but he’d keep that option on the table. You were always lingering in the back of his mind, and now he knew what your sex was like you weren’t just an image of a naked body, but a whole experience. And every so often you’d use this to your advantage, and send him pictures that made him smirk and text eagerly back: ‘Bad girls get put in handcuffs, you know?’

 Of course, all this had to happen right around the time of the major case break through. And not a breakthrough Meares particularly wanted. One day he was called down to the forensics room, and was faced with a mix of items of both yours and the first victims. They had been through everything again, and again, and again and nothing. Meares hoped that today was the day they’d finally find something that would help. “Detective, we will have to simply call it.” “We can’t give up on them! The killer is still out there!” “There’s nothing more we can do. Nothing - if we go on evidence alone now, logically there’s conclusions that must be drawn.” Meares sighed and placed his hands flat on the table, stretching his body back behind him; “Give it to me again.” “There’s NO other DNA in that warehouse, on her clothes, nothing.” “No other person?” “None.” “No evidence that anyone else was involved?” Meares wanted there to be another angle, something beyond what he felt – with dread – that this was all building to. “No. And we have tested and retested everything.” As you well know, this seemed to say. “…What about our first body?” “Well, here’s the interesting thing.” “What?” And why hadn’t this ‘interesting thing’ been raised!? Meares knew he sounded more annoyed than he did elated at this potential breakthrough. “Same sedative.” “So what, they were coming back for her?” That didn’t make things any better. He certainly was glad he’d found you if that was the conclusion. There was awkward hesitation, before the technician cleared his throat: “…Prints on the syringe are hers.” Meares raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding: “They… forced her to do it to… herself?” “Meares…” The look was pointed, “You know what the evidence is saying.”

Meares set his tablet up on the kitchen side, staring at it hard, before taking a stylus and trying to connect all the dots virtually. He’d been trying to do this in the office all day - and he almost had it but there were blanks that he was drawing that he still didn’t understand. They could easily have forced you into it, he doubted they’d forced you to inject someone else. But he suspected they could have had you self-inject. That’s what Meares wanted, but that wasn’t what the evidence was saying. That was never what the evidence was saying.

He had to be sure, and he’d found the security tapes of the warehouse opposite: terrible quality of course, and grainy. They’d already been dismissed by the team as being insufficient to gather anything from. But if you looked hard enough, if you knew what you were looking for, you’d find it. And he unfortunately did. This figure that he was seeing was you. It had to be you - it wasn’t like he could see your face, but he was living with you. He knew your body, he knew the way walked, the attitude you put into steps. This wasn’t that shy act either, this was careful and calculating. The person he knew, sure, but there was a horrendous chill that ran up his spine. Like he was watching some kind of horror movie. No one else went in or out of the warehouse after you. Then you came back out - he fast forwarded all the police investigators turning up - but you returned later… then nothing, until he showed up. And Meares knew the rest.

 “Oh. SHIT.” His head bent forward and he rested it on the cold side. It’s you. It had to be you. Meares couldn’t help but admit his heart was a little broken, that he felt a little nervous and sick. Where were you? Were you here? A killer in his house; someone he trusted, he had feelings for, that he’d told about his life. Was everything you’d told him about yourself a lie? You didn’t remember anything, because there was nothing to remember. You’d killed someone, drugged yourself to make yourself look like a victim… watched the warehouse while the police did their work… but why? The why had him so confused. And it was a question he couldn’t answer. Meares wouldn’t put you in handcuffs until he had the whole story.

 But he heard the sound behind him all too late, and as he straightened to react you grabbed him. Meares didn’t really have time to struggle, you’d been watching him - and bless his heart he was struggling. With the truth - but he didn’t know the whole truth just yet. You placed your hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out and sunk that needle in; no hesitation in injecting the heavy sedative into his veins. “Figured it out yet… Detective?”

 ***

 Meares took a little longer to come around from the sedative than you’d have liked. No doubt it was the same one that you had used on yourself and your victim. Damn did he feel like an idiot. And drowsy. And have one hell of a pounding headache.

Didn’t take very many of his detective skills to figure out he was tied to a chair, hands bound too. He thought back to that first description; bruising and ligature marks. Looking around it seemed a little like he’d been put back in another warehouse. Though this one looked a little cleaner than the one he’d been investigating. Eventually his eyes fell on the figure approaching him; and Meares glared.

“You?!? It was you all along?!?” He sounded much more hurt than he wanted to, “Why would you do that?!?” You stopped a few feet from him, hands in your pockets, head tipped as you surveyed his body. It was slightly gratuitous, but he could hardly complain about it after what he’d been doing to yours. Meares supposed that he should be thankful he wasn’t naked. Then again...

You took a breath, and once again answered too honestly. “For you.” Meares squinted, disbelieving: “What the fuck!?” That made no sense. “Are you kidding!?” You shook your head, “Detective Meares I’ve been watching you for a very, very long time. And is it any wonder, just look at you.” You paused, biting your lip seductively. He hated to admit it was almost working, “...What better way to finally meet you? And the fact that you were the first man on the scene for me. Couldn’t have worked out better.” He swallowed, backing up as far as the chair and restraints would allow: “There’s better ways to get my attention.” “Oh, but it did... didn’t it. Get your attention.” You took a step back, but your eyes didn’t leave his, “Or I did.”

Meares face was illuminated fairly well by the dim lighting, and his cheeks flushed. Yes - but he’d only admit that in his head right now. Of course you’d caught his attention. Look at you. You were gorgeous.  ‘She’s a fucking killer though, Meares, c’mon!’ Although he wasn’t really listening to that reasoning anymore as his eyes flicked up and down your body once more. He found himself struggling against the restraints. You smirked, “I wouldn’t do that, they’re your handcuffs.” Meares did the unexpected and smirked back, with a raised eyebrow, “Little kinky?” You gave him a look of amusement, but disappeared for a moment into the gloom. That made him panic a little and strain against the cuffs and binds again. No luck.

When you returned you placed a stool in front of his chair and sat opposite him, twisting the keys to his cuffs around your finger. “You want out?” Meares stared at the keys for a long while, before looking back to your face, then the keys, and then your face once more. When that gorgeous blue returned to the keys, Meares took a deep breath; he wouldn’t lie, he was in two minds here. ‘What’s she gonna do if I say yes, actually this is weirdly turning me on. If it weren’t for the context I’d actually quite like her to be in charge if we’re gonna fuck?...’ His eyes returned slowly to your face but you recognised that swallow; you knew exactly where Meares’ mind was at and what you were doing to him. That man was craving you, even now. “What are you gonna do to me? You gonna kill me now?” “Nothing you won’t like.”

A shiver of excitement ran his spine and he cursed himself, the widening of your smirk meant you’d seen it, and the way his pupils dilated. “I want answers.” “I don’t think you do. You want means and motive. I saw opportunity and your jurisdiction.” “You drugged yourself, stripped naked and… no maybe that was for me.” You enjoyed the way that blush rose on his face again. “Yes, Although I wasn’t really meant to inject quite so much sedative. I’m sure your labs will figure I have enough immunity to have got back to the crime scene after stripping off before it kicked in. And yes, of course for you.” You tilted your head, arms folded for a second, “I didn’t meant to go that hard; and it did affect my memory momentarily.” “You’ve… also obstructed the course of justice.” “There was no attack for me to remember.” “And the guy you… lacerated?” You shrugged, “Just some guy.” “...You- he was a random vic?” “Not entirely, but I’m sure you know by now he won’t be missed.” “You can’t just… do things like that.” Meares’ look was hard, his tone disgusted. “No, but I did.” “You’re psycho-!” “Little emotional there, detective.” He scoffed, “You expect me not to be?!” His eyes narrowed and for a moment hurt genuinely flickered across his face: “I can’t believe I fell for you, can’t believe I slept with you. Holy shit what have I got myself into-!?” “I just told you…” Your voice softened, and you leant forward, hands on his knees you pushed his legs apart. That shade of red on his face got deeper as his eyes widened: “So what, we’re gonna hate fuck now?” Your head tipped and you said it almost sweetly, “Not exactly.”

For a moment you left your stool and sat between his feet, arms up over his left thigh you leant against leg, eyes almost pure and innocent. “Oh. FUCK!” He had to voice something in realisation, after all. “Baby…” You ran your fingers up his inner thigh and loved the way he tensed under you, “Just let me take care of you.” “Y-Y/N…” His breathing hitched, should he want this? Shouldn’t he watch this? This was certainly going to fuck up his case. If it wasn’t already fucked. “You’re so god damn sexy when you’re frustrated…” Your voice purred and his body threatened to shudder once more. Meares felt himself getting hot, and that feeling was very quickly travelling down his body. “Geez, will ya just do it?!” His voice a mixture of anguish and yearning. There was underlying lust there too you were certain to capitalise on. You were certain you’d probably let him go; you didn’t want to have to kill him… What he would do to you, you weren’t sure. But you knew the implications of his relationship with you to the case. Well, he had warned them.

 You smiled gently, eager to please, pulling the stool forward with your foot you sat back on it, leaning up to kiss him. “Do you want out of the cuffs?” He thought about his hands in your hair, about the control that would give him. “Mhm…” His voice wavered with what he was trying to hold back, you reached behind him and unlatched them, “Don’t worry, Detective, I trust you…” “I don’t know if I trust you,” then he smirked, “Angel Face.” You tsked him, giving him one last slow kiss, before your hands travelled to his belt, “I probably should have told you not to call me Angel… but that might have given it all away…” “Oh yeah…” Meares groaned at the sound of his zip coming undone and you sank back onto the stool properly. “That woulda done it…” You leant back on his knees, smile playful, “Just relax, Meares. Enjoy yourself.” “I’m not sure I’m gonna call it that right now.” You ran your tongue across your lips to wet them, “We’ll see, Detective… I’m sure you’ll find a way to appreciate this.” “Well…” He breathed deep again as you forced his legs a little wider, bringing his hands around, just itching to tangle in your hair, “Won’t say I won’t love the view…”

---

Cheers guys, I owe ya!  🤣

[cynicalwonders]

Semblance

Today is my birthday! And since it’s my b-day, I’ve decided to post the first chapter of a thriller-fic I’ve been working for the month of spooks and chills. For those of you who may remember, a few years back I did a poll of which fics I should work on in order. One of those prompts was given the working title of ‘Blackwoods’, this is it but with a new name and some changes done to it. I know I’m supposed to work on my other fics (GWE, Glass Slipper, etc) but this one got my creative juices flowing and will probably help me get back into writing. So without further ado, please enjoy:

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Summary:  The classes of Dupont takes a winter field trip to a cozy ski-resort in the French Alps. Many use the cold climate to have free-range for fun in the snow or get closer together with their crushes in time for the holidays. However, a snowstorm has trapped the resort guest in their hotel and panic starts settling in. Is this a case of cabin fever or is there something sinister lurking in the mountains.

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“I cannot wait for this trip!” Marinette skipped around her room, pulling out several articles of clothing from her various drawers and trunks. “Two weeks at a ski-resort! Right before the winter holidays!”

Tikki giggled as her holder zipped back and forth around her room. Thanks to the ‘generosity' of Chloe Bourgeois – correction: begging and whining to her father – she had gotten the school to agree to host a pre-winter break field trip to one the best ski resorts in the country. How was that possible? Well, it may be because the owner of the resort, one Rodolphe Boivin, was Chloe’s uncle and would ‘adore having his favorite niece and her class over at his resort.’

Chloe’s words, not her.

Whatever the reason, the entire school was treated to an all-expense-paid stay to the Chateau Boivin. Of course, the catch would be that the students provide good reviews for the resort and promise not to break anything, signed contracts and all. Everyone was abuzz with excitement, many thanking the blonde who soaked up the praise with unconcealed glee. Students started making plans on what they wanted to do at the resort when they arrived. From skiing to snowboarding, 24-hours spas, 5-star dining, horse-drawn sleighs, and even a wine festival, Chateau Boivin goes all out every winter.

"When we arrive, I'm going to unpack all my stuff then grab an early lunch," Marinette recited out loud. "Then I'm going to talk to the activities director to book a ski lesson for the next day. Explore the place and figure out everything is located, maybe take a dip in the Jacuzzi and end the day with a nice dinner.”

“Promise to bring me back something sweet,” Tikki chirped.

“Of course,” smiled Marinette. “From what I read, this place hires some excellent pâtissiers for their dessert menu and café.”

“Better than your parents?” joked Tikki.

“Hmmm, maybe a close second.” Marinette joked, still rummaging through her things.

“You sure you’re not packing too many things?” asked the kwami.

“Just the essentials. Plus dad will take this down in the morning. Hopefully, he won't start crying again."

“My poor baby is leaving us!” Tikki mimicked her dad’s earlier reaction to the trip. “I knew this day would come but it’s too soon!”

“Dad, it’s just two weeks,” Marinette narrated her part. “Please don’t cry. I promise to call every day.”

Both giggled as she continued packing up her stuff. Clothing, shoes, toiletries, first aid kit, and some emergency cash just in case. She even packed up her sketchbook if she got inspired, as well as some tiny jackets she knitted for Tikki. Even if Tikki wasn't that affected by the cold, the little kwami looked adorable in a wool sweater.

“Alright! I think that’s everything!” exclaimed Marinette, finally closing the suitcase.

“Can you lift it?”

Marinette hoisted the bag over her shoulder with ease. “Over a year of swinging atop rooftops and fighting super-powered villains builds up muscle strength.”

“The fact that you can throw Chat Noir at an akuma should have let you know.”

“I thought that was another superpower while as Ladybug,” replied Marinette.

“Nope, that all Marinette-power,” cheered Tikki.

Marinette shook her head and smiled. Her little kwami watched as her holder cheerfully babbles about her plans for the resort. Seeing her smile so widely made the kwami really how long it has been since her wielder felt so content. For a while, a fog of sadness seemed to have washed over the poor girl. Everything she did or said felt halfhearted. Schoolwork, homework, designing, all done with half the effort and half the enthusiasm. And Tikki knew what – or rather, who – was the cause of all these…

On cue, the designer’s phone chimed with a text message. Glancing down, Marinette smiled faded. Sighing, she responded to the text before tossing it on her chaise. Tikki read over the message and her smile, too, faded.

Alya: Hey girl! All packed up for the trip? Can’t wait until we get there! Lila promised to give us some snowboarding lessons while we're there. Her cousin won gold in the Olympics for snowboarding! I'm so excited!

Marinette: okay.

“Marinette…” Tikki gave her a sad look.

“It’s fine,” she cut her off. “I’ll just politely refuse, say I already booked a lesson. If Alya lectures me again, then so be it. I’m used to it by now.”

Tensions between Marinette and her classmate were still present after the whole expulsion-debacle. Even with her classmates ‘apologizing' to her, though she doubts they were truly apologetic, they still felt that she was being unfair to Lila because of her illness. And suddenly her love and care for her classmates started to dissipate.

Even Adrien – sweet, perfect Adrien – didn’t seem all that sweet or perfect. While he assured her that he was on her side, his action seemed to express another thing. While he didn’t want to out the liar, he didn’t try to protect their classmates either. Marinette could see the hope and excitement in her classmates’ eyes. So hopeful to believe in Lila. Believing she had the power to deliver their dreams to them on a silver platter. Sacrificing their energy, time and money to pamper her so she, in turn, would reward them for their generosity.

Never did Marinette feel a stronger urge to vomit when she realized that.

What did Adrien expect to happen when the truth about Lila's lies came out? Did he think that everything would go back to normal? That Lila would learn her lesson and become a good person? Maybe that was the naïve optimism that Adrien possessed. And while Marinette would love for that to happen, it didn't fix everything. Not the months she spent isolated from the others. The cruel words they spat at her. The glares and stares. Disappointed sighs. Like she was the cruel one. The unreasonable one.

Suddenly she was busy with online commissions or her parents needed an extra set of hands at the bakery or she had to babysit Manon. Any excuse just to avoid them all. Marinette, the girl filled with love and compassion and sweetness, felt bitterness, anger, and disgust festering inside her. She didn’t want to feel this way, especially towards her classmates, people whom she has known and loved for years. But…

‘You’d think they would at least consider what I said,’ Marinette thought. ‘With how long I’ve known them and what I did to help them…you would think…’

Marinette shook her head and took several deep breaths. Master Fu's breathing exercises would calm her down and wash out any negative thoughts. And give the following few weeks since Lila's return, Marinette has made it a routine to do them before, during and after school. The last thing she needs is another near akumazation and lose Tikki thanks to that little liar.

“Don’t worry Marinette,” her kwami consoled. “You can use this trip to reconnect with your friends.”

“Unless they invite Lila…” Marinette could not remember a single outing she had Alya had without the blogger trying to add Lila. Not that she had trouble doing so, Lila just loved to force herself between Mari and her friends.

“Maybe you and Alya can do a girl’s night,” suggested Tikki. “Just the two of you.”

“Maybe…” Marinette said, but her voice held some hesitation in the idea.

“Marinette!” Sabine’s echoed from below. “Did you finish packing?”

“Yes, maman,” answered Marinette, opening the hatched door. “All packed up and ready to go.”

“Well don’t tell your father that,” her mother gave a small chuckle. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Okay, I’ll get change and come down,” Marinette replied.

Marinette quickly changed into her pajamas so she could jump into bed after dinner. These pajamas were thicker, made from wool as the snow started covering the glittering city. The Dupain-Cheng shared a dinner of Boeuf Bourguignon, potato gratin and hot chocolate for dessert. Pleasantries were passed around along with reminders from parents to take care of herself and to bundle up when leaving the resort.

After dinner wrapped up, Marinette dashed back into her room, doing last-minute checks on her stuff. Just as she finished, her phone rang. Apprehensive, she picked up her phone and sighed in relief. Tapping on the video chat button, her screen opened up to reveal a familiar elder fiddling with his own cell.

 “Ah! Marinette good to see you...hold on...” she giggled as Fu’s screen kept moving around the room before finally settling on his face. “There, better! Thank you Wayzz.”

“Yes, thank you, Wayzz,” giggled Marinette.

“Are all packed up and ready to go?” asked Master Fu.

“Yes…” whined Marinette. “You’re like my parents.”

“They mean you well,” the Chinese man smiled. “This trip will be good for you.”

“Will you be alright by yourself?” she asked.

“Marinette, I am over a hundred years old. I can handle a little frozen weather. You should have seen the blizzards and snowstorms they had near the temple when I was your age!"

“But what about Hawkmoth? What if he…”

“Do not worry about him,” Master Fu waved off her concern. “Around this season, he’s more subdued due to Nooro’s sensitivity to the cold.”

“Speaking of ‘sensitivity to the cold,’” Marinette turned to Tikki, who was snuggled up in one of her pigtails.

“Insect like ladybugs and butterfly usual hibernate during the colder months,” explained Master Fu. “Even if Tikki and Nooro aren't actual insects, they do share similarities in their nature and habits."

“Good thing I made some tiny jackets and mittens for Tikki here,” Marinette teased, patting her kwami on the head.

“She should be fine. We did a regular healing session, so she won’t fall ill while on the trip,” replied Master Fu. “So I suggest you take full advantage of your time to have fun while up in the mountains. Just be warned that snowstorms are sudden, so stick close to shelter.”

"Are you sure it is alright for me to leave for this trip?” asked Marinette. “I can cancel…”

“No, no, no,” Master Fu wagged his finger at her. “This trip is for you to enjoy yourself. No Miraculous usage. No akuma attacks. Take this time to relax and replenish your energy.”

Despite Fu’s insistence, Marinette still felt a bit nervous about leaving Paris unprotective for such a length of time. With both her and Chat Noir – he was also going out of town! What are the odds?! – out of the city, Hawkmoth might take this as an opportunity to wreak havoc upon Parisian citizens.

Fu smiled and assure her that Hawkmoth would be too busy to do any sort of attack. How could he be so confident that Hawkmoth wouldn’t attack while she was gone? Marinette didn’t get a direct response, just a wink from the elder man and a giggle from his kwami. His secrecy to certain things was still in effect. The pigtailed girl just sighed and took the guardian’s word for it.

Truthfully, she felt grateful to have time for herself. Even if she didn't hang out with her friends, her time was still stretched between akuma attacks, classes, commissions, and homework. Top it off with Lila's manipulation and isolation, her stress levels were through the roof. Two weeks away at a luxurious resort seemed like a perfect opportunity for her. Even with Lila there.

“Marinette! Light’s out!” her mother’s voice called out from below. “You don’t want to be tired for tomorrow.”

“You best go to bed,” replied Master Fu. “We shall talk another day.”

“Goodnight, Master Fu,” replied Marinette before ending the call.

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Adrien sighed as he finished his disappointing dinner – a small piece of salmon with a dry salad, water and a piece of bread – before heading back to his room. His house echoed with the bitter December winds, creating a cacophony of loud, wailing noises. Such noises would normally cause people to assume the home was haunted, but Adrien just took it as a sign that he was alone.

Both Gabriel and Nathalie had been busy throughout the entire week, getting ready for next year’s Spring fashion line and fulfilling the last of the orders for his winter collection. All staffers were excused for the holidays. Even Gorilla had been scarcely seen in the past few days, sticking to his driving duties as Adrien's modeling schedule was wrapping up. Had it not been for Plagg and Nino’s skype calls, the blonde believed he would go mad.

Speaking of Plagg, the tiny cat was busy stuffing his face with his signature camembert cheese. “How was dinner?” he asked, voice muffled by cheese.

Adrien shrugged his shoulder as he sat on his bed. “By the way,” continued Plagg. “Your friend texted you a few minutes ago.”

Smiling, Adrien snatched his phone and read all his messages. Most of them were from Chloe, some from his classmate, but his most recent was from Nino.

Nino: Hey! You ready?

Adrien: Yep! Everything is all packed up.

Nino: I’m so stoked for this trip! It’s going to be awesome! I looked up online and this place has an underground dance room. Think we can sneak in and use it?

Adrien: I’m sure if we ask, they’ll let us use it. Or Chloe could ask.

Nino: Aww, but that takes out the fun of it :(

Adrien: I just don’t want to get in trouble

Nino: Ah yes, the sunshine child. Mr. Goody-two shoes.

Adrien: Hey! I can be bad! I can be a rebel!

Nino: Dude, I can’t believe you typed that XD Sorry to tell you this, but you’re probably the last person that I can see breaking the rules.

Adrien chuckled at reading that. He could only imagine what Nino would think if he told him that most of his night was spent hopping off rooftops in black leather. Probably laugh, thinking he was joking.

Adrien: You never know, I may surprise you!

Nino: Sure~ anyway, we're are rooming together right?

Adrien: Yeah, Chloe made sure to put us together. We're on the fifth floor, #512

Nino: Sweet! Do you know where everyone else is?

Adrien: Not everyone. Chloe showed me the room placements and our class is on the fifth floor.

Nino: So the entire fifth floor is ours? Nice! Party all night!

Adrien: I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Mme. Mendeleiev and her class are on the floor below us. Do you want to disturb her with your music?

Nino: Uh…did I say party all night? I mean going to bed on time and making no noise after curfew.

Adrien: Smart. I’ll just ask Chloe if we can use the dance room.

Nino: Fine, we’ll go the easy way. Gotta go, mom’s telling me to go to bed. Talk to you tomorrow. Night.

Adrien: Night.

After sending his text, Adrien quickly changed into his pajamas and went over his luggage again. Even though Nathalie told him to leave things as is, no changes or add ons, Adrien thought it best to sneak in some games and emergency cheese for Plagg. And his father’s birthday scarf.

“I cannot wait for the trip,” Adrien smiled, giddy with excitement. His formerly sober mood gone and replaced with that of unbridled joy.

Class had been, for lack of a better term, tense in the past few months. Ever since Marinette was nearly expelled. And while the class did apologize and Marinette accepted, he could see the hurt and pain in her eyes. Like she didn’t believe them and was accepting their apology to be polite. And even after the incident, Lila kept lying and trying to attack Marinette, though indirectly this time.

Marinette's solution to all this: avoiding everyone in class like the plague.

He could see it: the excuses, the non-verbal answer, the fact that she physically kept her distance from them when in a group. Not to mention the fact that she had mentioned multiple times that she was helping with her parents' deliveries, only for Chat Noir to spot her on the opposite side of the city sketching or shopping. Not like he could confront her with that. Most likely it will cause her to distance herself further from the group. He hated that she was pulling away and he hated that he couldn't do anything about it.

But maybe this trip could change all that! A small resort filled with activities and games, getting in the early holiday spirit, hanging out with the class as a group. Maybe, just maybe, they can rekindle that friendship with Marinette. Maybe Lila will finally back off and leave her alone. Maybe things will finally go back to normal.

“Ugh, why couldn’t you have gotten a tropical vacation,” moaned Plagg. “I hate the cold. Frostbite, cold snaps, blizzards, and worse of all: frozen cheese!”

“They have heating in the resort,” responded Adrien, rolling his eyes. “Your cheese will be fine.”

“Frozen cheese is no laughing matter!” whined Plagg. “I still remember that awful blizzard of ’93. All my stock supply of cheese was frozen over! Cracked! Broken! Even when they thawed out, the flavor and texture turned to mush! Like eating moldy oatmeal!”

“Plagg! Gross!” Adrien gave a disgusted look. “I don’t need to hear that.”

“And I don’t need to suffer the consequences of frozen cheese!” Plagg wept.

“Well keep that whining to a minimum when we’re at the resort since the rooms are shared,” the blonde remarked.

Plagg groaned. “Great. So not only do I have to suffer through cheese freezing, I’ll be spending my days being stuffed inside a bag.”

“You’ll stay in the room while I’m out with my friends. Just be careful if any maids or cleaning staff come in.”

“Whatever.”

“And try not to stink up the room when you eat,” he stated. “I don’t want to get weird looks from my friends.”

Plagg continued to groan even louder, annoying Adrien. “I promise if you stay as quiet as a mouse and not cause trouble for the entire trip, I’ll buy you a whole crate of fancy imported cheese.”

“…what kind of cheese?” questioned Plagg.

“Every kind,” Adrien smirked. “Hard and soft. From abertam cheese to xynotyro. Just promise to be on your best behavior and it will all be yours.”

“…very well,” Plagg straighten himself out. "I'll be a good kitty. Heck, I'll act like one of those snooty, pageant cats that are on TV." The kwami gave a fake lick to his paw and meowed in a condescending tone.

“How about you just stay hidden and we’ll be good.”

“Fine, ruining my fun,” Plagg smirked before landing on the pillow next to Adrien and immediately fell asleep.

Adrien, however, kept going through his phone. Giddiness vibrated through his body as he pictured his next two weeks by himself. It took weeks and weeks of begging and bargaining with his father to even tolerate the idea let alone consider it. But Adrien persevered, getting top grades in his class, nailed all his photoshoots and stuck with his daily schedule – save a few times he had to fight an akuma – before his father looked at the permission sheet.

In the end, it all paid off! His father read over the contract, signed it and had Nathalie go over the details with Mme. Bustier to make sure everything was on the up and up. Mayor Bourgeois and M. Boivin even spoke to him to ensure that no harm would come to the young Adreste while at the Chateau Boivin. Over the top? Yes, but it was normal for Gabriel Adreste. Though it could be forgiven as this would be Adrien's first time away from his father for an extended period.

‘Two weeks on my own,’ Adrien smiled. ‘No hectic schedules. No extra lessons. Just two weeks of having fun and hanging out with my friends!’

“This will be the best vacation ever!” the blonde yawned before falling asleep.

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(I can’t do line break for some reason so apologies for the rows of dots in advance)

Not any spooks in this chapter but its a slow-burn towards the actual actions so please be patience. Next chapter is coming soon <3

[existslikepristin]

What A... Bummer

Desc: The fic that (sort of) started it all. Sorry for the funky formatting, as this was mostly just copy/pasted from Discord, where I ran the polls. You may also find it here if you prefer AFF: https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1462191/what-a-bummer-aka-i-m-so-sorry

Tags: TheLounge, Gfriend, Eunha, Yerin, maleOC"you", mostly butt things, angry bunny, vote story, backlog story

~~~~~

You knock on the dressing room door. Just inside is your Gfriend... as in "good friend" Eunha. Today is a very exciting day, and it's been a long time coming. She released her first solo album at midnight and she was at the first show where she would perform it live in front of a camera.

The two of you have been close... "good friends," as they say, for a while now. And you managed to convince security to let you in so you could give her a gift before she goes on stage. After all, you're proud of her accomplishment!

You hear shuffling inside the room and know she's on her way over. You really hope she likes the present!

What was the present again?

Options: 1. Champagne, baby! You got the expensive stuff! 2. A basket of healthy fruits! You're wholesome as fuck! 3. Your buddy Yerin! Can't celebrate without a good laugh! 4. (Picked:) A buttplug?! Who the fuck do you think you are?

~~~~~

You hold the box behind yourself as the door opens. Just inside is your buddy Eunha, all by herself. Not a surprise since you saw her manager downstairs earlier.

And she looks awesome. Her hair is cut short again, just to her jawline, but instead of curling in like her normal bob, it flares out at the bottom. She's got on a white shirt, cut low enough to just tease at her cleavage (even though you happen to know she's hardly got any cleavage without the pushup). Below she's wearing a super short black skirt, with a slit on one side that nearly reaches her hip bone, but her safety shorts hide the real goods. You know she has some tall black heels for this outfit since you were there when her stylist picked them out, but she's barefoot for now, nails on her fingers and toes painted all black.

She shouts happily and jumps up to wrap her arms around you as soon as she sees you. You barely manage to keep her from dragging you down to the floor, putting your arms around her too. "You came!"

"Of course I did!" you shout, "Congratulations!"

The top of her head barely reaches your chin while she's on her toes. She nuzzles her head into your neck. Her hair dresser would flip her shit, but it's okay if it's just for a second, right?

She suddenly grabs the box from your hand. The sly little idol.

"Yerin told me you were bringing me a present. I thought she might be lying, but..."

Eunha tears the wrapping off the box. You'd be a little offended, but you did the same thing to the last birthday gift she got you.

"Now... what am I supposed to do with this thing?"

Eunha holds up the butt plug. You grin, recognizing the excellence of the thing. Stainless steel, polished like a mirror, a bright red gemstone embedded into it (and yeah, you got a real gem for it), and big. Real big.

Options: 1. (Picked:) "You keep it inside you, once I help put it there." 2. "WOAH. That's not what I thought it was, I swear! Yerin tricked me!" 3. "How the fuck should I know?"

~~~~~

"What are you supposed to do with it?" you ask as you take a couple steps forward.

"You keep it inside you, once I help put it there."

Eunha puts the butt plug up to her mouth. "Like this?" She licks it and puts it in her mouth, as far as she can at least. She looks up into your eyes, looking as innocent as she can. You would almost buy the stupid act too, but you know she's got somewhere to be.

You grab her by the shoulders and spin her around. Then you drop to your knees so your face is directly next to her ass. It takes up your whole field of vision. But still, there's no time to waste. You grab the sides of her safety shorts and yank down. As expected, there's nothing underneath and you can instantly spread her glorious cheeks to be greeted by...

Oh damn, she's already got a plug in.

Eunha giggles above you. "Don't worry. I like yours better. Help me swap them and you can keep that one."

Not a bad solution.

The plug takes a little work to get out. Eunha half-moans, half-laughs as you wiggle it back and forth to get it moving. She reaches back to spread her ass cheeks to give you better access and a fantastic view.

And eventually, with a little pop, the plug comes out. It's much smaller than the one you brought, made of silicon, and much more boring.

You stand and hold it in front of Eunha. She instantly sticks her tongue out to lick off the lube.

"It's almost like you've done this before, isn't it?" you ask with a smirk.

"It's almost like you know that personally," she says over her shoulder.

You take the brand new butt plug out of her hand and get back on your knees. Eunha instinctively spreads her ass again. You can still see some of the glistening of the lube that was there for the last plug, so it's probably at least safe to put the new one in without anything extra. Then again, the new butt plug is pretty big...

1. (Picked:) Stick it in rough. This might mess up her performance, getting you a punishment later. 2. Give her a good lube up with your tongue first. You know from experience that she loves this, and you'll be well rewarded later.

~~~~~

You know, you and Eunha have been good friends for quite a while now. How bad would it really be if you messed up her performance just this once... And besides, her cute, tiny little asshole just needs a real good stretch sometimes right?

Right.

Eunha waves her ass from side to side, bent over a bit, mostly for the presentation. "I'm ready for it. What are you waiting for?"

Well, she said it! You line up the top of the plug at her lube-short hole, earning you a sultry giggle from the idol. You give it a slow twist to one side, the other side, brace your elbow, and shove like you've never shoved before.

You're not quite sure whether or not you were successful. It seems like time slowed down... You felt the tension of her ass resisting the plug up to the widest part, followed by it giving way as it tapered back down. But that only took a second or so, and Eunha didn't react. The dressing room is dead silent.

Then, Eunha falls to the floor. To her knees, then onto her hands. You're more than a little worried, so you move to her side to see her face. Her mouth is open like she's screaming, but there's still no sound, until she whispers, "What... the f-f-fuck... is wrong with you?"

Her eyes slowly turn in your direction so you give her your biggest, winning smile. But there's fire in her eyes. You're suddenly feeling like you may have made a bad choice.

There's a knock on the door and a voice comes through, "Eunha? We'll be starting your stage in five minut--"

"I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" Eunha screams. You hear the PA muttering as they walk away.

You open your mouth to say something, but you forget what it was when you get smacked in the jaw. Eunha is still holding herself with one hand, but the other is floating menacingly next to your face, nails looking beautiful but also ready to tear you apart.

Clearly trying to compose herself, Eunha lowers her head and whispers again, "Go find Yerin... and wait for the stage... now."

It's probably best not to argue. You get up and and make your way to the door. You turn back to look at her though. She hasn't really moved, and you get a great look at her thicc ass sticking into the air with your plug poking out from between her cheeks.

You know for sure you're going to get punished later, but you think maybe you should say something?

Options: 1. Apologize. You can admit, you fucked up. You'll still get punished, but maybe she'll go easy on you? 2. (Picked:) Never mind, say nothing. You'll obviously just make it worse. 3. Just laugh. Eunha doesn't have connections to any hitmen, does she?

~~~~~

For the sake of your personal safety, you think it's probably best to just go. You slip through the door quickly so nobody can see through the door and make your way to the stage.

Yerin is pretty easy to pick out of the crowd for you, as she's wearing her usual thick sweatshirt, plain jeans, tennis shoes, hat, facemask, and glasses that make it impossible for her to be recognized in public. She's in the back of the crowd, holding a gigantic sign that says "I LOVE YOU EUNHA I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES" as a joke. You remember the first time she said that was when Eunha was fucking her with a strap on. It looks like everyone in the crowd is too busy practicing their fanchant to really notice the overtly sexual (and nonsense) sign.

"Yo slut," you casually say as you walk up next to her.

"About time you got here whore," she says back, clearly grinning mischievously behind the mask. You smirk back.

"So, did she like her gift?"

Your smirk fades, "Uuuh. You know, she will probably have to tell you that herself."

"Mmm, I will. And then I'll take it out of her, put it back in and lick all around it... ugh, I'm so wound up. Hey. If I masturbated while we watch the stage, would you keep an eye out so I don't get caught?"

Options: 1. "Of course! I've always got your back my dude." 2. (Picked:) "You want to do it yourself? But I'm right here." 3. "Woah, Yerin. Don't be so weird. Just enjoy the show like a normal person. Sheesh."

~~~~~

You give Yerin a smirk and move behind her. She points at her eyes and swings her hand in a circle, her nerdy way of telling you to keep watch. You get the feeling she'll enjoy what you have in mind.

After a couple of minutes go by, the fans scream as the stage hands walk off and the lights go dim. You and Yerin join them in the cheer, welcoming your hot little buddy into the spotlight. Yerin holds her sign high and shouts her support.

As the lights come back up, you see Eunha, cool and calm like the professional she is, with her backup dancers. You're a little surprised (and slightly disappointed) at her exceptional composure.

The first note of the song hits and the crowd instantly shuts up, ready to fanchant like hell. That's when you seize the chance to shove your hand down the back of Yerin's jeans and pop the still-lubed butt plug (the one you took out of Eunha earlier and never did get rid of) into Yerin's ass. It slides in like butt...er.

Eunha jumps into her dance and Yerin jumps up and down with the music with no regard for your hand down her pants. You feel like you might get a rash. But either way, you soldier on and reach in further, until you can touch her clit.

There's one move in Eunha's dance that draws a big gasp from the crowd, where she bends over and presents her ass. Her safety shorts hide the butt plug... for anyone who isn't paying close attention. They aren't especially good at hiding how deep the crack of her ass is, and there's just one very slightly bulged out part.

Yerin moans back at you, "Holy shit, she is so fucking hot up there," as she grinds herself down against your hand, drowning your fingers in her juices. "I just want to sit on her face, pull her legs back and pump a dildo into her helpless butt."

You smile at the thought. Maybe Yerin will be on your side if Eunha is still angry when you meet back up, considering that she also wants to destroy Eunha's asshole.

Yerin doesn't quite cum before the song is over. You take your hand out of her pants just in time not to be seen by all of the fans turning around to leave. She groans in frustration.

"Let's run to the dressing room and see if she can finish me off. I was so close!"

Options: 1. "Hey wait. She might be a little mad. I may have done something a little mean..." 2. (Picked:) "Yeah, definitely! Let's go get those shorts off her!"

~~~~~

You confidently walk through the halls next to Yerin. The whole time, Yerin bounces up and down, distracting you with the constant thought of ass. A couple times she even turns her head, sees you staring, winks, and spanks herself. You forget entirely about the confession you considered making.

Once at the dressing room, you see that the door is already open. Weird?

Yerin jumps through the door and shouts "YEAH EUNHA!"

The display of enthusiasm is met with silence. Yerin scratches her head and walks further into the room. "Maybe her mic got stuck in her hair?" she ponders.

You walk in too. You're about to comment, but there's a sudden sharp pain in the back of your neck. You attempt to put your hand up to slap at whatever bug got in here, but your hand just falls limp. So do your legs. And your vision goes dark as you vaguely feel yourself falling to the floor.

* * *

"He's waking up," you hear a garbled voice say. All you can see are blurry shapes as you open your eyes, but they come into focus very slowly.

"Don't stop!" another garbled voice shouts, making you suddenly feel a pounding in your head. Did you go too hard on some vodka?

The voices (or just one voice really) start clearing up. You hear Yerin moaning, turning slowly into a scream. And eventually your eyes confirm it.

About ten feet in front of you, Yerin's face and torso are pressed against a bed, with her butt held up against Eunha's face. Her legs are trembling wildly. Eunha's hands are gripping Yerin's hips tight, her eyes are closed, and her legs are folded underneath her. They're both entirely naked, and you have a side view of it all.

It would be a little more exciting if you weren't chained by the legs and wrists to a wooden chair.

And you look down to see that you're naked too, other than some kind of device locked very uncomfortably around your dick.

There's a thud as Eunha drops Yerin onto the bed. Yerin is apparently exhausted by the orgasm she just had, because she's not moving.

Eunha shakes her head to refluff her hair that was being pressed against her cheeks and looks at you.

"Good morning," she says blandly.

You try to respond but your tongue feels weird and doesn't move properly so you kind of just blubber.

Eunha slides off the bed and takes a few steps to stand right in front of you. A tiny drop of her cum falls from her pussy onto your knee. Damn, they must have been at this for a while.

Her entire body is bare in front of you, practically on top of you, and it's so incredibly sexy. Under normal circumstances, this is when she would sit down and ride you for hours. But she isn't sitting down, and your dick is being painfully stopped from getting hard by the contraption it's in.

"So... do you have anything to say now?"

Options: 1. Yup. Apologize. 2. (Picked:) Yeah, you enjoyed her solo debut! 3. Nope. Nothing to say. 4. Yes.. BeGONE, THOT

~~~~~

You smirk, ever so slightly unsure of yourself, or if what you're saying is a good idea. The corner of your mouth trembles as you say, "Yeah, I really liked your solo debut. You did great up there."

Eunha leans over, putting her hands on the back of the chair you're tied to. It would be a great chance to stare at her perky little titties up close if her threatening gaze wasn't holding your eyes. Her face comes in closer. You can feel her fuming hot nose breaths on your forehead. Your own breath is caught in your throat, and your lungs start to burn with how long she stares you down.

"Be glad I'm a professional. And thanks," she says, very flatly.

As she stands back up and turns away from you, and you release a huge sigh of relief.

"Yerin, over here please. I'm going to need your tongue in my ass."

With a groan, Yerin rolls off the bed and crawls to Eunha, kneeling between her and you. Eunha leans forward, putting her hands on the bed for support. If there was any question about what your punishment was before now, it was pretty clear now.

Eunha spreads her ass, her perfectly painted black nails creating a frame for the asshole you love so much. It's only a few feet away from you. You can feel your dick trying to harden but the cage just makes it... well it doesn't hurt, but it's extremely uncomfortable.

And then Yerin's head appears between you and that beautiful butt. Her hands grip onto the backs of Eunha's thighs, squeezing the flawless flesh as if she were trying to hold herself up on the edge of a cliff. You know the exact moment when Yerin's tongue meets Eunha's ass. The shorty has a very characteristic half-squeal-half-moan that comes out of her every time something wet touches it. You might have thought you could look away to stop the discomfort in your cock, but that sound brings back too many memories of your entire face being buried in those cheeks.

"Oh... Oh yes. Good girl."

You watch as Eunha slowly pushes back against Yerin's face, over and over. It lasts for hours? Days? You could never tell. Her squeals and encouragement get louder, more urgent. You can't help but let out a quiet groan of your own.

But like the rabbit she is, Eunha heard. She twists her upper body to look at you without disturbing Yerin. "What was that? Do you want to fuck this ass? Do you-- fuck..."

Her eyes screw shut as a brief shiver of pleasure runs through her body. You can see her legs quaking for a moment. She's close.

"Do you want Yerin's pretty little mouth to dip up and down on your cock to lube you up for-- fffuck!"

Again, a shiver. It's longer this time, and Eunha almost falls, her feet sliding a few inches farther apart before she catches herself. There's a loud slurping noise as Yerin moves to accomodate the change and gets a much needed breath of air.

One of Eunha's hands shoots to her inner thigh and you can barely see past Yerin's shoulder that she's squeezing herself tight. She would often remind you about how she would do that to make her orgasms more intense, so now you know exactly what (or rather, who) is coming.

Even so, she manages to gasp out nearly a full sentence, "You want my ass clenching around your cock when--" The last word melts into one long squeal and trails off from there into a silent scream. Her whole body shakes violently except where Yerin is holding her down tight.

You could swear it lasts for a whole minute. Agonizing for you and Eunha in different ways. But when she collapses face first onto the bed, her knees hitting the floor softly as Yerin guides her down, it's over. Except for the few extra twitches when Yerin gives her ass a couple of licks. You release a long breath that you didn't even realize you were holding.

Yerin climbs up to cuddle Eunha from behind, kissing her neck, shoulders, and back. The two of them giggle lightly at the gentle touches, making no move to point their beautiful, still-wet asses away from you.

"Time for your fanmeet?" Yerin asks softly after a minute or two.

Eunha sighs and pulls herself away from Yerin. "Yes, I guess we should get going."

As you expected, you're not getting any. At least not soon. You casually watch the members making their way around the room, collecting their clothes and getting dressed back up.

And notably, not untying you.

"That sure was amazing," you say, suddenly nervous, "Maybe I should help set up the chairs for the fanmeet?"

Yerin chuckles, "They're already set up, man."

"But... the audio right? You know? Do some mic checks?"

Eunha stands in front of a mirror, brushing her hair to get it back to looking presentable. "Oh that's fine. Manager's taken care of it."

You struggle to think of something else to say, or to think of what's about to happen.

"But don't worry," Eunha struts over to you and pats your knee, "SinB will be coming in after the fanmeet to let you go."

You groan. SinB rejects you any time she thinks it would be funny, which is literally every time. She probably won't even unlock the cage on your dick.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Eunha smooches your forehead like you're a pet she's leaving home for the day, and then drops a key down her shirt and into her bra. It's not hard to guess what the key is for. "And when I do, I'll have cheered up, and I'll bounce on your cock harder than you can imagine."

Yerin draws in a sharp breath somewhere behind you. She's probably planning on being around whenever that happens. You can't help but look forward to it, though it sounds like twenty-four hours of torture for you until then.

The lovely ladies zip out of the room before you can get in another word, leaving you to the inevitable humiliation SinB will have for you... in an hour or two.

THE END

[scioscribe]

have you got any Star Trek fic recommendations? I love what you’ve written and I’m super into the fandom atm

Oh, boy, do I.  I’ll try to keep this reasonably compact, but there’s a ton of excellent fic.  My to-read folder for this fandom currently has 262 items, and I’m also way behind on leaving comments on the stories I’ve loved because I’ve been glomming them so enthusiastically.  Hopefully this will shame me into appreciating the authors as they deserve.

My definition of “reasonably compact” apparently means “twenty-two separate recs,” so have a cut, everyone.

Kirk/Spock

Communication: One of my all-time favorites.  It’s a beautiful, incredibly romantic epistolary romance where Kirk and Spock wind up captaining separate ships during a war with the Tholians.  They write each other letters where they slowly feel out a resolution to their mutual pining, and the characterization is exquisite.

To Sing the Sun in Flight: I will happily read a million “Amok Time” AUs, but this might be my favorite.  It’s simple, hot, beautifully written, and perfectly characterized.

Our Bodies Safe to Shore: Excellent, plotty, and emotionally complex fic where Spock’s body is taken over by a hostile alien intelligence, one that can read his thoughts and imitate him, and he’s locked helplessly inside.  And the alien has noticed his feelings for Jim.

Joyboy: Post-Tarsus IV story where Kirk and Spock meet as teenagers, when Spock is with his father on a diplomatic mission where the Tarsus survivors are brought for temporary shelter.  Great characterization, maybe especially of Kirk, who gets to be both the woobie (he’s being shunned by a lot of people for doing sex work on Tarsus to stay alive) and the controlled, honorable budding leader.  Little bit of underage, but not particularly explicit.

Fulfilling the Needs of the One (Or the Both): Sweet Old Married Spirk story that blends slice-of-life with a nuanced emotional plot where Spock suddenly fears that he hasn’t been giving Jim the emotional support and romance Jim needs.  (Jim begs to differ.)

Sunlight: Kirk, Spock, and McCoy start filling out one of those “getting to know you” questionnaires together for a crew newsletter, and of course Spock and Kirk have ridiculously detailed opinions about things as simple as the other one’s hair color and eye color and what kind of animal they would be.  Also some cute McCoy characterization and appreciation for shortish Jim, which I always appreciate.

Freely Given: The last by this author, I promise!  This is the best “McCoy subtly plays matchmaker” fic I’ve read, where his prods and a trip to a planet where on-the-mouth kisses are a common form of greeting make Spock start thinking about what he wants from his relationship with Kirk.  Delightful, sharp Bones, a Kirk who wants to make sure his authority as captain isn’t coming into play here, and a beautifully analytical Spock who is slowly realizing the depths of his pining.

Great Expectations: My favorite bit of xeno!  Kirk and Spock are about to have their first time together, but Spock shies away from getting completely naked, and when he finally does, Kirk has an unfortunate reflexive reaction to his unfamiliar genitals.  Before sweetly and humorously consoling Spock about it and boldly and sexily going where no man has gone before.  This is hot and romantic and perfectly characterized, and I just want to give Spock a hug.

Centennial: More Old Married Spirk!  Kirk is turning one hundred, and he’s feeling his age a little.  But Spock has the perfect gift for him.  Absolutely heartwarming, and written with grace and restraint.

A Private Obsession: Outsider-POV narrated by a man from a rigid, sexually conservative planet.  He owns a factory where Kirk and Spock (clearly stranded and/or forced undercover for purposes the narrator doesn’t know) wind up working.  He becomes sexually and romantically obsessed with Kirk and painfully jealous of Spock–and the ease with which the two men love each other–and, of course, leveraging Spock’s failing health to get Kirk into his bed doesn’t, and can’t, solve his problems.

Famous Last Words: Super adorable fic where there’s a shipboard poll of everyone’s favorite quotes of famous people’s last words, and all of Kirk’s have, um, a certain subtext about seconds-in-command, love, and sex.  Contains flirting and foreplay and love confessions via quotes.  Which is fitting, because Kirk and Spock are enormous nerds.

The Game: Funny, insightful story with Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty playing a game–come up with something another person at the table would never, ever say–that then takes a sharp turn into devastating pining.  This ends as UST, but I can’t believe they don’t get together.  I mean, come on.

Warm Thoughts: Lovely, aching post-”Amok Time” story where Kirk wants to talk about what happened on Vulcan, Spock really doesn’t, and everything is brought to a head by an absolute hurt/comfort gift of a situation where Kirk comes back from a planet with an inability to get warm.  Spock can ostensibly use mind melds to help him a little–but things keep slipping through that he’d rather not deal with.  Excellent hurt/comfort and pining.

…And a Bottle of Rum: Adorable, hilarious, sexy established relationship fic where Kirk tries to use the “Shore Leave” planet for a bit of fun pirate role-play and Spock tries to be a good sport about it.  Hilarity ensues: “Help, help,” Spock called dutifully, and was set down again with a thump as Jim collapsed in a paroxysm of laughter.

Not So Last Words: Heartbreaking post-Wrath of Khan soulmate AU.  Your soulmate’s last words are supposed to be written on your wrist, but Kirk can’t understand how Spock could have died without saying what’s on his.  There is beautifully layered tearjerker stuff here.

Round is a Shape: There are a bunch of “older Kirk is self-conscious about his weight, Spock loves him just the way he is,” and I will read them all, because I am a chubby sap.  But this is my favorite.  Utterly adorable.

And the Truth Shall Set You Free: Smug telepathic aliens force Kirk to publicly declare his feelings to a shocked, unresponsive Spock who has been avoiding him lately.  The aliens feel like they could come straight out of an episode–there’s lots of debating about morality!  I love debating about morality!–and the romance is lovely and the crew is 1000% in Kirk and Spock’s corner.  And it’s delightful.

Cut Point: Spock gets an exceptionally flattering haircut, one that would probably make me moan, “I want to touch his hair,” even more than I already do.  Suddenly, everyone on the ship can’t stop talking about how good he looks, while Kirk loses his mind due to what he thinks is unrequited love.

Gen

Way, Hey, An’ Up She Rises: Nuanced and exquisitely written first meeting story about Kirk coming onto the Enterprise and Spock evaluating him.  Really well-characterized and great at the tentative feeling of the two of them feeling each other out.  And has “pretty shitty but not actually an indiscriminate villain” Gary Mitchell, which is a take I’m especially fond of.

Second Decent Destiny: Very shippy and technically pre-slash, but reads comfortably enough as gen.  “Amok Time” AU where T’Pau doesn’t alibi them to Starfleet and Kirk winds up with an honorable discharge for diverting the ship.  Spock joins him in extremely early retirement and the two of them try to figure out where they’re going from here.  Lovely, and a very good idea for a second-chance life.

Fortune’s Favoured Child: The formatting on this is kind of terrible, but it’s extremely well-worth it if you love Kirk hurt/comfort as much as I do.  In the aftermath of the deaths of Edith Keeler and his brother, Kirk is foundering a little, and seems to snap under the impact of yet another crisis–and in the process, reveals layers of suppressed pain that even his friends didn’t know about.

Lost and Found: Again, superb Kirk hurt/comfort–well-plotted, tense, angsty, and perfectly executed.  Kirk has been kidnapped and brutally tortured by Romulans, and as the story opens, he’s been brought back to the Federation in disgrace, having made a televised confession to all manner of crimes and (presumably) spilled Federation secrets to stay alive.  His crew is supposed to keep him in the brig and bring him to justice, but of course their loyalty is such that their immediate response is basically, “Fuck no.”  (I am bowled over by the sweetness of a particular gesture here.)  And Kirk gets to be both extremely damaged and extremely resourceful and inventive.

Other Ships

Matchmaker of Mars: I initially left this off by mistake because I was going through my bookmarks, and I always just get to this one through my gift page!  It’s Uhura/T’Pring 1930s Science Fiction Writer AU, which should be enough to make you want to read it--it has lovely characterization, note-perfect pastiche, and the two of them struggling to deal with John W. Campbell.

Oh, okay, so this was the short version.  It could have been longer, I promise.  This was relative restraint!