#oof this era gets me fucking heated.

[atopvisenyashill]

Please tell me more of your thoughts on maegelle, maybe it’s cause I’m new to the Fire and Blood side of the fandom but I’ve never seen anything deeper about her maybe being negative. Especially in regards to her mother/family. I’m quickly becoming Saera girlie and I wonder if Magelle’s role in the church might’ve contributed to her sister’s “”rehabilitation”” being bad enough to have her leave the continent.

Okay so the thing here is that she does to Alysanne what Jaehaerys does to Alyssa, which is force/cajole their mother into taking back and living with a man who has publicly humiliated her and made incredibly clear he has no respect for her, but we only really whack Jaehaerys for this. The first quarrel is more personally egregious to me because it's only Alysanne who must bite her tongue here and not Jaehaerys - she is not asking for anything extreme here! Her daughter committed the heinous crime of fucking before marriage, it's been like three years, and three of their daughters have subsequently died, but he hasn't calmed down at all about Saera. Alysanne even tries to compromise by just asking to fly to Lys to visit her and he forbids her from seeing her own fucking daughter. That's an insane level of abuse. And what does Maegelle do? Well she tells her parents that they need to keep up appearances and be seen in public together. Reminds me a lot of show alicent's "you may slap him about as you like at home but out in public we must be united" comment - essentially, Maegelle is telling Alysanne she has to cope with being barred from seeing her daughter and grieving her losses properly to keep up appearances. I mean fuck, maybe Alysanne genuinely wanted a divorce from Jaehaerys. Maybe at that point she was so distraught she wanted Jaehaerys to take a lover, and replace her, and leave her the hell alone so she could be with Gael or otherwise just go to Lys anyways. But Maegelle puts a stop to all of this by invoking Rhaenys' wedding and how they need to look united. Ghastly behavior.

BUT THEN. Less than two years later, Aemon dies and Jaehaerys names Baelon heir. And look, Alysanne is 100% right to be pissed the fuck off at Jaehaerys for naming Baelon - from our several comments about Rhaenys being called "our future queen", the fact that Aemon and Jocelyn never have any other kids, I think the fact that Rhaenys has a dragon as well, all of that makes very clear that everyone is sort of expecting Rhaenys to carry on the Targaryen line in some form or another. Beyond that, Jaehaerys knows damn well that Alysanne has historically been touchy about this - see her comments about little Daenerys. Jaehaerys, with this move, makes it clear that he had never planned for Rhaenys to be queen at all and was misleading everyone. This one is on par with Rogar's nonsense imo because it's so public and everyone knows how Alysanne feels about the succession. He doesn't talk it over with her after she's lost a son btw, he just announces it and takes everyone by surprise.

AND THEN ONCE AGAIN. HERE COMES MAEGELLE. "mom just get over it." And again, what does Jaehaerys give up here? Nothing. He's either sending Maegelle or he's just straight up leaving Alysanne alone and assuming she'll come back to him? It's just nasty. She's losing the ability to walk, to ride her dragon, to remember people's names, she's barred from seeing Saera, she's got a daughter the age of her grandchildren because Jaehaerys forced her to have another child, and she's not even allowed to just spend her last years on Dragonstone being left to age with what dignity she has left. No, she has to be at court, she has to be by her husband's side, because That's Her Place. It's just as smug, just as cruel as Jaehaerys forcing Alyssa to Rogar's side - and the cruelty, in my opinion, is the point here. "You made your bed now lie in it" type behavior, towards a woman who has just been publicly disrespected, who is grieving her dead children.

So anyways, do I believe Maegelle was just as viciously cruel to Saera and that's part of why Saera ran away? I can absolutely believe that yes. I think we see that a lot with Septas to be honest - women who get a thrill out of torturing other women who don't conform properly. Mordane actively eggs on the gap between Arya and Sansa until it becomes a gaping chasm, Moelle and Unella are happy to take orders that involve them sexually humiliating Margaery, her cousins, and Cersei and take a sort of sick glee out of doing it, so I don't think it's exactly far off to say Maegelle had a cruel streak in her that came out when it came to the women in her family not conforming properly. I think we can also take into account George's general distate for religion and Catholocism specifically and the way the Septas work as nuns, and the way nuns were like, insane at various catholic schools. I think there's an interesting play here right - that Jaehaerys can look a mother who put her own life on the line to make him king and hand her right back to the husband who hates her to die having his kids, because he's being vindictive and cruel about her having the audacity to remarry without his permission, and Maegelle looking the mother who has ruled capably and given her the space to be what she wanted to be, and hand her right back to the husband who clearly has no respect for her whatsoever, because she's cruel and believes a woman is not allowed to have differing opinions from the man who currently owns her. It doesn't matter what Alyssa or Alysanne personally did for the two of them; they're women, and they have no right to disagree with the men around them.

[aro-geo-turtle]

OH MY GOD I HAD NO IDEA IT WAS DROPPING TODAY I THOUGHT IT WASNT COMING FOR ANOTHER WEEK AT LEAST

SCREW YOU SLEEP SCHEDULE ITS MALEVOLENT PART 41 TIME

Omg I’m so scared I’m so fucking scared

Arthur screaming at Kayne, what a beginning

Divorce time hehehe…ow

John baby 😭😭😭😭 all is forgiven on my front!!! I love you! Ahhhhhhh I think he’s finally airing out a bunch of stuff that’s been building up inside for a while. Owwwww

I wonder if projecting again is going to be as easy as they’re assuming it’s going to be. It was kinda a heat of battle thing. Either way, the physical toll on Arthur is a good cost to balance it out story wise

This is why John and Arthur work so well together, they fight but in the process they get all their feelings out there and communicated. They don’t let secrets and resentments fester without confronting them

And then they pack their shit up and work together, even when still angry. John’s voice when he tells Arthur that it’s ok 😭 because describing surroundings, looking for shelter and directing Arthur on how to get there is familiar territory, he knows how to do that and do it well so it’s all going to be ok now 😭

Jfbdjdb Arthur reaching for a light switch. Yeah this is going to take some adjustment

Aaaaand a monster already, yay! …wait a second. Jfbjdbdbfbdbdbb omg. An owl!! It’s the bathroom mirror all over again

John is finally able to openly talk about his time in the dark world 🥺

But also Arthur telling him he gets its a hard topic and he doesn’t have to when he’s not ready 🥺 and what we were all thinking, that he would have forgiven John for the deal

PET OWL PET OWL. Come on they deserve it! And I did not expect Arthur to be a huge owl nerd lol that’s so unexpected and wonderful

Welcome Alexander the Owl to the party! I’m so happy about this.

Spooky claustrophobic crack already, huh? Wonderful. S4 was a reprieve from the caves and it couldn’t possibly last any longer. And of course it looks like a mouth. Why not.

Ok writing down this broach description cause it’ll probably be important or metaphorical later: two gazelles, the baby escapes while the parent is eaten by a lion, angry snake in a tree in the background. Weird. A snake in a tree immediately makes me think garden of eden symbolism…

Please don’t enter the spooky crack guys.

No you’re going to fall off the ladder you guys fall down every hole and break every staircase/ladder you go on yep yep that’s exactly what I meant.

Omg letters. They’re going to find Oscar’s letter oh gosh I’m going to cry noooo Oscar’s letter was ruined????

They didn’t lose the gun for once??? Damn. And this is going to be far more advanced weapons tech than this era, this could be super helpful!

Wait Oscar’s letter??? It’s ok??? And they remember him???

Into the crack we go! Damn they’re both getting poetic now

These two spend far too much time in caves for a claustrophobe and a nyctophobe

Flesh! Wonderful! Is this thing actually a mouth?!??

Mmmmmmm ahhhhh what is happening????? This is very freaky! Oh no oh no was that an egg sac???? Ahhhh nope nope nope nope the sounds are not making this better! My only consolation is that it isn’t spiders, I was very scared about that for a sec!

Two paths is diverge in a yellow wood evil flesh cave…

John does seem to have gotten a lot better about his fear of the dark, I guess he’s just had to deal with it enough and been in enough situations where the darkness is actually helpful to get better.

Trapped in a cave with skeletons. Oh not only that, it’s a dungeon! Oh! Oh no! Can we help this guy???

Aaaand that’s where we leave off. Oof. Imma need to process this one. If I can stop laughing about Arthur being an owl nerd lol

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,193 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Warnings: none really Summary: Y/N falls ill and Daryl goes to make sure she's okay, only to discover her cell is empty. A/N: Just a short and sweet fic! For all you fellow migraine suffers out there! Requested by: @winchestershiresauce and anon!

Your name: submit What is this?

“Gettin’ real sick of staring at these ugly fuckers,” Daryl said, smashing the end of the metal rod in his hand through the chainlink fence and into the brain of a particularly loud walker. He watched carelessly as it crumpled to the ground and was immediately replaced by another.  “Yeah, well—” you jabbed the crowbar in your hand into the temple of the seemingly endless infected clamoring at the fence, “someone has to do it.” You paused for a moment as your head suddenly swam. Daryl immediately noticed.  “What? Ya alright?” He thought maybe you looked a little pale all of a sudden, which was strange considering the sweltering heat and humidity. He was sure he was red-faced and he knew he was soaked with sweat.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment and shook your head. “It’s nothing. I’m good.” You resumed your thankless and grim task, picking out another infected dead one to put down. You felt Daryl’s eyes on you for a moment longer before he turned back to the fence. You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand and pushed on, but it was only a few more minutes when you felt your vision start to change and the familiar stabbing pain began to grow behind your eyes. Daryl watched as the crowbar dropped to your side and you froze again, squeezing your eyes shut, a grimace wrinkling your brow. “Hey—s’goin’ on? And don’t feed me some bullshit about how you’re fine,” he drawled. He watched your fist clench around the iron crowbar. “Just—just a little too much sun probably. I’m just gonna go get some water and shade for a bit. I’m fine. Really,” you said, opening your eyes again and turning to look at him. His eyes were narrowed as he peered back at you, concern obvious on his face. “I’ll walk ya up—” “No. No, Daryl, I’m fine,” you reassured him, forcing out a light laugh. “Just keep at it down here. I’ll see if Glenn or Maggie can come down. There’s too many walkers. We need to cut this herd down or we’ll lose the fence,” you said, already walking backwards toward the gate. “I’m fine,” you tossed out one more time, forcing a smile that you knew wasn’t entirely natural. He watched you turn and let yourself through the gate, taking the alleyway between the fences back up toward the prison. Hopefully you just needed to rest a little while... He continued to work on thinning the herd for a while but found himself distracted. Neither Maggie nor Glenn came down to help and it was possible they were just busy, but he found himself fixating on an intrusive thought that you’d collapsed somewhere of heat exhaustion on your way back to the cell block. He finally decided to take a break himself and make sure you were alright. He could see if anyone else was available to help on the fence too. The archer didn’t find you anywhere on his way back inside, collapsed or otherwise. He breezed into the cell block, stalking past Beth who had Judith in her arms. He slowed as he neared the cell you’d claimed and was surprised to see that it was empty. He spun on his heel and headed right back out toward Beth. “Hey. Ya seen Y/N come in here?” “She came through a little while ago, but she left again,” Beth said. “But ya did see her?” Daryl asked again. Beth nodded. “Yeah. I saw her. Why? What’s goin’ on?” She saw worry in the archer’s expression. “Any idea where she went?” Beth shook her head. “No. Daryl, what’s goin’ on?” “Nah, nothin’. She just—she was out on the fence with me and said she wasn’t feelin’ well. I just wanted to make sure she was alright. I was thinkin’ I’d find her in bed but she ain’t there.” “Oh,” Beth said. There was something like a realization on her face and Daryl paused. “What?” “Nothin’,” Beth said again, averting her eyes back toward Judith.  “Ya ain’t a good liar,” he said, a little annoyed that she obviously knew something she wasn’t saying. “C’mon. Spit it out,” he said, flicking his fingers at her. Beth looked up at him again and still seemed unsure. “It’s just—she doesn’t really want anyone to know...” “Know what?” he pressed. Beth looked hesitant, but the look on Daryl’s face convinced her to spill it. “Sometimes—she—she gets migraines. They can make her real sick,” Beth said, bouncing Judith on her hip. “Only reason I know is because I saw her leavin’ with her pillow one time real early in the mornin’ when I was up helpin’ with Judith.” “Leavin’? Leavin’ to where?” “She needs it dark and quiet... so I think she goes to one of the other cell blocks,” Beth said. “But she really told me not to say anythin’.“ Daryl stood stunned for a moment. “One of the other cellblocks?” Beth nodded. “Ya mean with those bloodstains and shit all over the place?” Beth shrugged. “I told her no one would care but she insisted I didn’t tell anyone anythin’.” Before Beth could ask him not to let you know that he knew, his broad shoulders were already disappearing back out the door. Daryl checked two cell blocks before he heard the sound of you being sick. He pushed through the cellblock gate, which creaked lazily on its hinges, and found you huddled over a bucket. You rinsed your mouth out with water and didn’t notice him standing in the cell doorway until you had sunk heavily back down on the edge of the mattress. You startled a little and Daryl watched your expression and body language just sag. 

“Great...” you muttered. “Did Beth rat me out?” you asked, sliding further back onto the bed and wiping a shaky hand across your clammy forehead. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how disgusting do I look right now?” you asked, leaning your head back against the wall behind you and shutting your eyes. Daryl was just about the last person you wanted to see you like this. He watched a flash of pain flit across your face. “‘bout a 5,” he drawled, stepping into the cell. You cracked one eye open to take in his expression and saw that although one corner of his mouth was quirked slightly upwards at his joke, he mainly looked concerned. You closed your eyes again as the light coming in the high cellblock windows made your head throb.

“I’ll be okay. I just need—if I can get to sleep, sometimes that stops it...” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the thudding of your pulse beneath your fingers. “Sometimes?” Daryl repeated. You didn’t respond and he moved farther into the cell until he was standing at the side of the bunk. “I thought it was yer head. How come ya got sick?” he asked. You took in a deep breath and tried to let it out steadily. “If the pain’s too intense sometimes it can make me nauseous.” Oof. Talking was not helpful. “Mmm.” You shook your head. “Can’t talk.”  “Hmm...” Daryl considered you for a moment. “Scooch. And lie down.” You looked up at him, surprised, through bleary eyes, the aura of your migraine distorting your vision uncomfortably. “What?” “Ya heard me,” he said, his tone soft. You obeyed and shifted closer to the wall, settling down on your side. Daryl squeezed himself in beside you, sitting up with his back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankle.  Your eyes were closed, but he still saw your expression tighten as waves of pain crested and fell. “What can I do?” he drawled quietly.  You shook your head. “Just—nothing...” you murmured, feeling a hot wash of shame spread over you. The next moment your eyes shot open as you felt Daryl’s fingers running over your hair, following a strand gently, brushing lightly over you. You peered up at him in surprise and he immediately pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed it anxiously. His fingers left you for a moment. “Uhh—s’that... help?” he asked, his hand hovering above you. You nodded and closed your eyes again, just in time that you didn’t see how red Daryl’s cheeks and ears suddenly were. “Actually, yeah. That helps...” you sighed. His fingers landed in your hair again and resumed their gentle movements. He watched your breathing slow and deepen, and you seemed to sink more heavily into your pillow. Once you were asleep, Daryl carefully slipped from the cell and returned with a blanket for you, covering you over gently. He debated about heading back to the main cellblock, but the idea of leaving you there alone bothered him. Ya shouldn’t be in a fucking prison to start with, but alone in that cellblock that still held signs of unspeakable horrors? That was out of the question. So, instead, he slipped back onto the edge of the bunk, setting his back to the wall again, and settled in next to you. Maybe it was the hard work out on the fence earlier, but he was soon asleep too. When you woke up many hours later, you were surprised to see Daryl beside you asleep. his head nodded down toward his chest. He’d stayed there next to you? That whole time? He woke as you stirred a little, leaning up on an elbow and peering up at him, rubbing your eyes with your free hand.  “Hey,” he said, feeling suddenly awkward and climbing off the bunk and onto his feet. “How ya feelin’?” You nodded. “Better. Thanks. Just... a bit hungover,” you said wearily. The sharpness of your migraine had faded to a fuzzy kind of ache, and your whole body felt fatigued. “Hungover without the fun of gettin’ lit in the first place? That’s some serious bullshit,” he drawled, leaning back against the wall behind him, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Yeah, tell me about it,” you said, swinging your legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, the blanket falling from over you to land in a soft pile. “Thanks...” you murmured again, feeling that creeping wave of shame rising in you again. Daryl must have sensed it because you could feel his blue eyes on you, studying you, and you glanced up at him. “Why didn’t ya tell me?” he asked. “I mean, why hide it?” He looked around the empty cellblock and his eyes landed on the bloodstains on the floor outside the cell you were in and the piles of trash nearby. “This ain’t where ya should be when yer sick. Ya should be back where—where we can take care of ya...” He’d almost said “I” instead of we, and he felt his heart start pounding.  You hung your head and stared down at your hands. “I don’t want to be a burden...” you said quietly. “It’s better if I just deal with it. Alone.” Daryl scoffed and you glanced up at him. “Tha’s stupid. Ya ain’t alone. Ya got a family. And ya ain’t a burden cuz ya get sick. Ain’t yer fault. Can’t control it. Ya didn’t choose it. It’s the shit hand ya been dealt.” You shrugged and peered down at your hands again, anxious. “This why ya had to back outta that run the other week at the last minute? And—that time when we were out tryin’ to track that horse?” Your jaw clenched and you nodded. “Usually I know when they’re coming on. Sometimes I have more warning and sometimes hardly any at all... Before the world went to shit I had a couple medications that really helped, but—can’t exactly walk into a pharmacy now and fill a prescription,” you said wryly. “It’s fine. I manage them. But... I know it makes me weaker...” “Weaker? Nah. That ain’t true. If anythin’ it makes ya stronger cuz ya gotta deal with that pain.” You shook your head. “No. What if I’m out there and one hits me? That’s a weakness, Daryl. It’s dangerous.” “Mmm,” Daryl hummed, chewing on his bottom lip. He seemed to make some decision at that moment and straightened up. “Look. From now on? If yer gettin’ sick, ya just tell me, alright? No matter where we are, I’ll always make sure yer safe. If we’re outside the fence, we’ll find someplace to hole up. If we’re in here, I’ll make sure ya get to bed and that everyone keeps fuckin’ quiet so you can rest—well, ‘cept Lil Asskicker, but can’t do nothin’ about that,” he drawled.  You managed a half smile. “Daryl, you don’t have to—” “I know I ain’t gotta, but that’s how it’s gonna be. Like I said, yer not alone.”  You were a little overwhelmed at the moment and you felt a bubble of emotion forming in your chest. You cleared your throat and tried to gather yourself for a moment before you looked back up at him. You knew there was no point in arguing. “You’re the boss,” you said, when you finally met his blue eyes. He rolled his eyes at you in response.  “Alrigh’, we both know that ain’t true... C’mon. Let’s get ya somethin’ to eat,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the cell door.  You smiled and took in his broad shoulders and strong arms, feeling another rush of heat in your chest. The softness inside that badass warrior always melted you and you had readily come to the realization that he was simply your favorite person in the world. And soon you planned to tell him so.

[wwilloww]

point of no return | PJM

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smut. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Roommates AU.

WC: 10.2k

Summary: Both Jimin and you are determined to never act on the feelings you hold for one another. Instead, you’d rather shove it down, somewhere deep, dark, and inaccessible. So what do you get when you mix a broken furnace, an old victorian home, a little bit of jealousy in the club, and a need to keep warm together? A mess.

Warnings & Tags: Cursing. Reader is really freakin cold. Jimin sleeps in the nude. Spooning. Grinding. Obscene daydreaming about your best friend.  Sex dreams. Mentions of alcohol. Dancing. Jimin is a little jealous. Masterbation. Unexpected visual. Super soft makeout. Fingering. Orgasm denial. Sex. Slight power play. Creampie.  

AN: Oof! Finally! A Jimin fic! Thank you to @thatlongspringnight for guiding me through the last 6k of this fic, all written in one day and for being the most brilliant, queen of queens level beta reader. A big thanks to @triviasapphic too, for letting me use their likeness! 

This is very loosely based on this ask beautifully submitted by the loveliest @jinpanman for the milestone request party! 

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

point of no return 

“Fuckin’ shithead mutherfuckin cunt basket,” you hiss.

Nothing would turn it on.

You tried pressing the knob. You tried twisting it until your hand rubbed raw. You tried shaking it. You tried begging in your sweetest, most saccharine tone. You even tried giving it compliments.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you look with three coats of white paint? No?”

Fifteen minutes ago the antique radiator — so old it would probably be better in a museum of old technologies than as a functioning heat mechanism — stuttered to a halt and refused to turn back on.

When you had picked the house out with your best friend, Jimin, you’d loved it for it’s Victorian era charm. But now with the December cold creeping in through the thin window and your refusal to own more than one blanket you were shivering madly, teeth clattering cold. And wildly in doubt of your house hunting skills.

With a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders, you drag your comforter off of the mattress, wrap it tightly over your shivering shoulders, and pad barefoot down the hall. Instead of knocking, you just twist the door handle, letting the door swing open before you with a long, drawn-out squeak. You wince at the sound.

A dark figure sits up from the bed, squinting at you in the darkness.

“Is that—”

“It’s me,” you whisper. If it were anyone else, that response would be useless. But after years of friendship Jimin knows every tune and nook in your voice — the way it sounds when you’re upset, or scared, or — in this case — really fucking cold. “The heater broke.”

“What?” His voice is groggy and sleep-heavy.

“The heater broke. Can I stay here tonight?”

He scrunches his nose and wipes a hand across his face.

“Yeah, sure, uh—” He shifts a bit in bed and that’s when you realize he’s not wearing anything at all. You gulp. It’s the coldest month of the year and the fucker is naked in bed, nothing more than a top sheet thrown over his body, the rest of the duvet crumpled at the foot of the bed. Even though you know he’s one to sleep in the nude (“It invigorates your skin and keeps your body temperature regulated,” he had explained to you once) seeing it, in front of you, just the thinnest piece of fabric between you and your best friend’s junk is a whole other story.

As he moves, the sheet slips down, revealing his toned stomach, only visible by the moonlight flooding through the bay windows of his bedroom.

“Give me a minute to put something on?”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, turning around quickly to give him some semblance of privacy, your blanket whooshing out behind you.

You can hear him pad over to his dresser, just three feet behind you. You swallow hard as you imagine him, totally naked, so close to you. Literally within arms reach. If you could only—

“Turn around, I’m done.”

You peek over your shoulder before turning fully, only to see Jimin, now clothed in some pretty short black boxers, climbing back into bed. Blanket trailing, you shuffle after him, climbing into the warm bed from the other side.

You pull your comforter as tightly around you as you can, but you’re still cold. As you turn to face away from your friend, you can’t help but shiver, your shoulders shaking with the chill that’s settled deep in your bones.

“Can you stop shaking?” Jimin’s sleep-adled voice grunts from behind you.

“I’m too cold,” you whine.

“Come ‘ere—”

And before you know it, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging your body backwards until it meets his. He pulls the blanket up and slides in behind you, wrapping himself around your shivering form.

“Better?” he asks while you’re still in shock from the amount of contact he’s just put the two of you in.

“Mhmm,” you squeak out, even as your body continues to shake.

“You’re a liar,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know why you bothered to ask then,” you snap back, wrapping your arms tight around yourself.

You’re not sure if he sees this or if he’s acting on his own accord. You let out a small gasp as he tugs you even closer, his arm slipping under the blanket to press against the skin of your hip. He maneuvers you backwards, your body as limp as a puppet, while you lay there in shock (and a small bit of exhilaration). He presses the back of your body flush against his front and snakes his top arm up the front of your torso until it rests in the center of your chest, gripping your opposite shoulder.

Trapped.

You’re trapped in his arms, nowhere to move, nowhere to go. Only the sound of your combined breaths, his a little more slow and sleepy than your nervous pant. Trapped only with the idea of him so close, and the strange thing fluttering in your chest that only continues to grow bigger and bigger despite all the work you’ve done to push it away. All you can think about is the way he’s pressed up against you, only your thin flannel pajama pants and his even thinner black boxers keeping the most sensitive parts of your bodies apart.

When he shifts, nustling his nose into the crook of your shoulder, you swear you can feel something long and hard press up against your ass.

And suddenly the warmth that is flooding through you has absolutely nothing to do with the shared body heat. Instead it’s coming from someplace deep down — somewhere yearning and desperate — and also from that strange fluttering thing in your chest.

All there is is white. You know somewhere far above you is an endless sea of stars, blinking down on you. But all you know is the grass beneath you and the swimming white sheets that float above and around you.

Someone’s laughing and you turn your face to see him — Jimin — beaming and reaching out towards you.

Somewhere in your mind you know it’s night time and that everything should be dark — and yet, everything around him is lit up and glows with a sourceless light.

Joy rushes through you and as you reach out towards him, he disappears and a new kind of light — warmth — appears behind you.

“I want—” you start to say, but his hand comes up to your mouth, silencing you.

“If you speak, you’ll break the dream,” he says. “Just enjoy it. Let me be here with you.”

Eyes don’t close in dreams, but you know you drift somewhere soft, the feeling of his body so close to yours and the precious rhythm of his breath tracing your neck.

All there is warmth.

Too much of it, actually.

As your eyes blink open to the dark room, the remnants of some dream, lots of white, Jimin’s smile fall away from your consciousness. You kick your leg out into the freezing air and sigh as the coolness washes the heat from your body. Relief.

The warmth that hasn’t been erased, however, is sitting heavy in your lower belly, pooling and swirling and wanting.

You do your best to ignore it, knowing it’s probably some mix of the dream and the thing that you’ve kept hidden on the edge of your consciousness for too long.

You close your eyes again, wishing for sleep to come back and pull you away from these thoughts. Just as you feel the soft edges of another dream lapping at the edges of your mind, Jimin groans behind you and comes to press up against you again, his hand snaking down over your belly.

Eyes shoot open. There. Behind you. Right between the swell of your ass. You can feel his cock pressing into you, at full hardness. You gasp at the sensation, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth so as not to wake him. Slowly, you try to scootch away from his grip, but he holds you there, his arm only tightening when you try to move away.

It’s not that you don’t want it — you do — your body is singing with electricity at the thought of his hard cock against you, between you, inside you. God, if only. However, it’s the consequences, the unspoken question, the unanswered desires (the answer to which you may just not want to know) that push you away from him.

This is your best friend. The person you’ve always been able to rely on and trust. The man you know you can turn to at any moment and know there will never be a question dangling between the two of you.

Except for now.

As he slowly circles his hips against yours, the most delightful, breathy pants falling from his lips — so soft you can barely hear them — the question looms larger than ever.

Are you in love with your best friend?

However, here, his arm wrapped so tightly around your belly, it’s easy to sink into the desire. To equate the arrival of the question with the arousal rising in your body. To tell yourself this is just pleasure, this is natural.

Jimin’s palm is splayed out across your lower belly, pressing hard against you.

He’s rutting shallowly against you, moving for the sake of his own pleasure. A high note of satisfaction slips from his lips, before a name tumbles shortly after it into your ear.

Not any name.

Your name.

You choke on your own words as you understand it. Confusion rushes over you but it’s quickly replaced by adrenaline as his hand clenches and unclenches around your shirt and he shifts and stretches.

Jimin is waking up. Is he going to say something? Is he going to tell you he didn’t mean it at all? Will he run from you?

His body freezes as he realizes the position he’s in. Wrapped so intimately around you, his hard cock pressed against you.

“Shit,” you hear him whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You squeeze your eyes closed and lay as still as possible as you feel him pull away from you. And then the bed dips just enough and you realize he’s leaning over you, checking to see if you’re asleep or not.

You smooth out your features, hoping he doesn’t catch that you’ve been awake this whole time.

The December morning light is streaming in bold and warm through the window.

Your hand goes searching for Jimin, but all you find is an empty, chilled, pillow. There’s a good chance he’s already headed out for the day to see friends or to run errands and so you assume it’s safe as you tiptoe downstairs to get some water and some much needed coffee. Not that you slept much last night.

As you enter the kitchen, the earthy smell of fresh coffee hits you and you take a deep breath, inhaling the nutty aroma. There’s a full pot of coffee already waiting for you on the counter. You smile. Jimin has always been a considerate housemate, but to leave you coffee in the morning? I’m so lucky to have a friend like him, you sigh as you turn to the cabinet to grab a mug.

“Good morning!” an almost nervous, too-cheery voice sings out from behind you.

“AGh!” you cry, nearly dropping the mug you’re holding. Jimin’s quicker than you are though, and reaches out, just as it drops below your belly button. He’s laughing, his delightful giggle filling the light-painted kitchen but all you can think about is how close he’s standing to you, the mug brushing up against your stomach.

“Got it,” he grins.

“You know you can’t jump out at me like that!” you scold, trying to take the mug back from him. But he turns and goes to fill it up for you.

“I literally said your name twice before you noticed. Someone was too lost in dreamland.”

“Pshh, no, I — you need to be a little louder.”

“Can we talk about last night?” Jimin asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. “I, uh, I think there was an accident, I had a dream you were—”

You panic.

“Last night? Oh gosh yeah! I slept like a rock! Thank you for keeping me warm. I would have frozen to death if it weren’t for you.”

You smile as sweetly as you can at him.

He blinks back.

“I mean — uh, yeah, sure, I mean, you’re welcome but that’s not what I mean —”

“Nothing to talk about!” you chirp, already scurrying towards the stairs that lead back up to your bedroom.

“Hey! I’m trying to talk to you!” he cries as you pad upstairs, making a beeline for your bedroom as the coffee you’re holding sloshes around in the mug.

“Oof, well I’m already tired again, gonna take a nap!”

You sprint up the stairs and as you do you hear him call behind you.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

It hits harder than you want it to.

“Come on, princess. You’re taking forever!”

You’re back down on your bed, swaddled in all the blankets in the house you could find, scrolling through your phone.

“I don’t want to go!”

“Well I do!” The door finally swings open and Jimin stands there, all dolled up for the night out. He’s wearing tight leather pants that hug his toned thighs just right and a half opened black shirt that he’s still buttoning as you look on. Beneath his hands, his chest shows, the muscular planes simple and sheer perfection. A single silver earring dangles from his left ear, the other one filled with a variety of studs.

As you peek out of your blanket fort, you gulp as you take in his flawless appearance. He looks like straight sex, the darkness of his outfit highlighting every muscle and curve.

"You look nice," you manage to squeak, and Jimin blushes, his praise kink showing. "Those pants are..." Hot as fuck? More beautiful than the Mona Lisa? Just asking me to rip them off? Floundering for language, you just let your sentence trail off as he looks on, a pink tinge still dancing across his features.

"You wanna wear them?"

"Pfft, no," you lie.

“Are you planning on getting out of bed?”

“No.”

"Well then, if you're not going to get out of bed and dress yourself I'll do the honors." Jimin stomps over to the tiny door leading to your closet and swings it open. He ruffles through your set of clothes, as disparate from a full flannel collection (one that you are quite proud of) to an evening gown that never got worn. Words you can't quite hear or understand tumble from his mouth in a stream of frustrated mumbles as he seems to be looking for something very specific. "Aha!" he finally cries out. "Here it is."

What he pulls out is not what you expected.

It's a simple piece. A light tan slip dress, one with a bit of a scoop to the bust. One that hugs all of your curves just right and sits low enough the weight keeps the dress exactly where you want it to be and high enough that your upper thighs are deliciously on display - something that simultaneously excites you and scares the hell out of you. You bought it on a whim, hoping it would help you embody your inner club girl (or "inner slut" as your friend Jungkook would correct you - which, if you were being entirely honest, was really what you meant when you spoke about going to the club.)

"That one? Really?"

"What, you wanna wear this?" He turns back to the closet before pulling out a second dress, this one long and emerald green and sparkly with a full slit up the side.

"No." You pout.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Ugh!" you cry, burrowing deeper into your blanket fort. "Itsmyslutdress," you mumble.

"What?"

"Itsmyslutdress!" you mumble, but louder this time.

"Did you just call it a slut dress?"

You pop your head out of the warmth cocoon with a sigh.

"Yes."

"What does that even mean?"

"It is the dress I wear when I want to embody my slutty alter-ego. The dress I wear when I wanna get laid."

Jimin blinks a few times before turning back to you with a grin.

"Well--do you not want to get laid tonight?" he asks slowly.

You gape at him.

Even as best friends, even talking about your hookups, you never really talked about sex iteself. Everytime you brought it up, whether it was at the bar and you were ogling some tall, dark, handsome stranger as if some psychic had promised you he was your entire future, he always seemed to shut down. And yet, around your other friends, he was an open book. "Basically a sex expert," Jungkook had told you once. "A sexpert." He'd added, grinning.

But with you, sex was off the table. You were more open and vulnerable with him than you were anyone in your life - and he with you. But sex was just never on the discussion board for you two.

"Do you wanna get laid tonight?"

"Are you offering?" you shoot back teasingly.

"Of course," he says softly.

Your mouth drops.

Of course? Of course?!

"I mean! No! What? Wait? Can you repeat the question?"

"You said yes," you say slowly.

"What! No! I did not!"

Jimin is basically stomping his foot on the ground.

"You did!"

He looks almost angry and you're not sure whether to laugh at the softness with which he had agreed to fuck you - or to feel hurt by his quick change of mind.

"Did not!"

You break into giggles finally releasing yourself from your cocoon of warmth to sprawl out on the bed in a fit of laughter. Your little tirade is quickly shut down though as the silky fabric of the dress is thrown onto your face and you cough around the material.

"Get dressed. I don't want to be late," he says, his voice flat.

“It’s too cold for the slut dress,” you grumble in a last ditch effort, fabric falling into your mouth as you sleep.

“Then wear a fucking turtleneck and snow pants to the club,” Jimin says. “I don’t care, just please get dressed.”

The door slams and when you pull the dress away from your face, the room is empty again. With a sigh, you roll off the bed and begin to get ready for the night.

By the time you pulled up to the dark, sticker-plastered doors of the club, Jimin had resumed his usually joyful and peppy demeanor, all memories of his little slip up erased from the night.

You knew better than to push him about it. You knew that he shut down when you called him out on these things in the past— like the way his eyes lingered on you for too long when you showed off a new bathing suit, the cute little stutter he donned when he was flustered by you, or the way he would basically run at top speed in any direction away from you when you emerged from the shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around your body.

As you are swallowed into the sea of dancing figures and booming bass, you feel his hand come to rest on your waist. Pushing further into the crowd, his touch is reassuring. Steadying. His way of keeping a hold on you without actually holding onto you.

He sees them before you do, and quickly grabs onto your hand, tugging you forward into the mass of swaying figures. Waving and yelling their names, the two of you tumble towards your friends. Jungkook and Raven stand near the bar, their faces lighting up when they finally spot you in the mess of strangers.

Raven embraces you first, his arms pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I wanna dance!” Jungkook says before you can even step away from Raven. Drinks abandoned, Jungkook has grabbed both yours and Jimin’s hands and drags you out to the dance floor.

The bass courses through you as your friends surround you, bopping and swaying to the barely understandable lyrics.

Jimin has always been a good dancer. A great dancer, actually. His moves range from absolutely side-achingly hilarious to -- dare you say it -- undeniably sensual.

He twirls you onto the dance floor, the two of you falling into your usual routine of swinging and laughing and kicking all around.

And as the upbeat and perhaps misplaced summer hit switches to a more sensual song he matches it naturally, letting his hips sway and glide to the rhythm. He pulls you along with him, twirling you more slowly. When you twist into his grasp, he doesn’t hesitate to take you into his arms, pressing you against him.

As his arms come to wrap around your shoulders, you can’t help but press back into him.

Raven winks at you and you grin back at him, shooing him and his teasing away.

It’s easy to fall into this. Easy to fall into the sway of Jimin’s body and the safety that comes with being pressed so close against him. You fit perfectly into his body, every one of your curve the antithesis to his. Like two puzzle pieces.

You let your hand drop down to his thigh, gripping it for stability as you sway your hips against his. The muscle tenses beneath your touch and you take that as an opportunity to roll your ass against his crotch.

He meets your movements, grinding back up into you, his hand dropping to your waist where he grips you tightly and guides your movements even further back into him.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," he whispers in your ear.

His body pressed against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. The nights the two of you have spent in your kitchen, sliding around in socks and grooving to your favorite music, springing each other around your shared house — all of those hours, all of those years make it so when he moves against you he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly what you want him to do. You move in tandem, as if you are sharing a brain, a story, a body.

You tilt your head up to him, nuzzling into his neck.

“Why not?”

“I-I can’t mess up.” He says, but he continues to sway at your back.

“You’re not messing up. I like this.”

As you reach behind you, letting your hand trail up beneath his shirt, you can feel him press into your touch. Chasing it, searching it out. But as your hand trails back down, fingernails scraping delicately against the skin, he seems to snap out of it and steps back from you, even as he keeps his hands on your hips.

You turn, trying to pull him back to you, but you see his brow is furrowed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Just fine!” he says, just a little to cheerfully. “I-I just think I’m done with dancing for tonight.”

Even as he says it he pulls you closer to his chest.

“I’m going to get some drinks, do you want something?”

“You don’t want to dance with me?”

“I— uh— it’s not that.” He shakes his head.

“Please, come on, it’ll be fun,” you groan, tugging on his arm. But he stands firm and stiff. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“I don’t want to dance tonight. Just go on ahead.”

You look your friend up and down. Jimin was never one to turn down an opportunity to dance.

“Okay,” you say, painting a smile on your features even as your heart aches slightly at his rejection. “I just want you to have fun. Do you want me to come with?”

“No--it’s okay. I’ll be back, alright?”

“Alright?”

You watch as he disappears back into the mass of people. You stand still, wondering What the hell just happened?

However, your thoughts are quickly interrupted as Raven reaches out to you, pulling you to him in a graceful spin.

“Distract yourself, darling,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll come around, don’t you worry.”

Before you have a chance to process his words, Raven spins you out again in the crowd.

You stumble just a little bit, until hands come to rest on the dip of your hips, lingering there just enough to stabilize you. However, they quickly release you as soon as you are standing tall again.

“Oh, ah, thank you,” you half-yell as you turn around, attempting to raise your voice above the noise.

The man who stands behind you is undeniably gorgeous. Tall, with a dark lock of hair hanging into your forehead and the most beautiful smile.

“No worries, it happens all the time,” he grins at you. “What’s your name.”

You yell back at him, but when he can’t hear you, you step closer to him, pressing against his chest to speak your name into his ear. His hand comes down on your waist as you do, lightly.

“My name’s Hoseok. You can call me Hobi though. Care to dance?”

You grin up at him and nod. You’ve never been one to turn down a dance partner.

He takes your hand, quick to find the rhythm of the music.

Hoseok is a natural. As each song progresses, his dances become more intricate. He’s happy to lead you through them and you can’t help but laugh as he spins you around the floor while others are swaying and grinding. You’ve never had this much fun with a stranger, but as he moves against you, you can’t help but think of the way Jimin felt pressed so close to you earlier in the night. It’s just not quite the same.

It’s easy to get lost in him, in his beaming smile and witty jokes that he bends down to whisper in your ear. He compliments you freely, and you do the same in return.

As the night continues you and Hoseok dance closer and closer until he’s pressed deliciously up against your back. You find yourself lost in the sensation of being embraced by someone, even if it isn’t the person you’d want to be there.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but do you wanna come home with me?” The man leans down, the husk of his voice brushing deliciously against your ear.

“I can’t.” You say, turning back towards him. “But thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

You nod.

“Does your refusal have anything to do with the man at the bar who hasn’t taken his eyes off of us since we started dancing?”

“What?”

He nods over your shoulder, back towards the bar. Through the crowd, you can barely see your friends, but as you reach up on your tippy toes you see them all gathered around, laughing and talking. And then at the edge of them is Jimin. He stands tall and proud and with an unusually grim expression on his face. But when he sees you looking at him, he quickly averts his gaze to his drink, which he is continually swirling in his hand.

“You’re going home with him, aren’t you?”

“Well, duh, he’s my roommate, I—”

“You should go for it,” he interrupts you.

“Go for it?”

“Go for it.”

“There’s nothing there,” you state, matter of factly. “We’re just really good friends!” You’re not sure why you tell him this, but there’s something soft in his eyes that spurs you on.

“Good friends don’t eye fuck each other all night.”

“We weren’t—”

“No need to explain it to me.” He holds up his hands. “But it seems like you have some explaining to do to him. Or at least to yourself.”

You sputter. “Psh! What! No! I’m just tired, Hobi, and if I had the energy I would be fucking you right here, right now, on the dance floor. It has nothing to do with Jimin. Nothing at all!” You realize you’ve got your finger poking into his chest and you quickly draw it back. “Sorry.”

“Okay…”

“Well.” You put your hands on your hips, wiping the frustrated look off of your face. “I should go, I guess. It was nice dancing with you, partner. I’ll be the first to admit you got great hips.”

He’s laughing, and you’re not sure if it’s at you or with you, but when you extend you hand for a friendly fistbump, he meets it with all the enthusiasm in the world, pulls you into a hug, and is off on his merry way, off to find a new dancing partner.

Left alone in the middle of the floor, you kind of just stand there, mulling over what the stranger had said to you. Soon though, you feel a hand on your shoulder and you spin around to see a blank faced Jimin.

“I, uh, just wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m all good!” you chirp, perhaps too cheerfully. As you begin to make your way back to the bar, his hand comes to rest on your lower back and you shiver at the touch.

“So you’re not going home with him?” He nods back in the direction of the disappearing stranger.

“Why would I?”

“Well, you wore your slut dress, so I figured he was a contender.” He doesn’t meet your eye.

“I didn’t want to fuck him.” You stop, and turn to him.

He laughs, almost nervously. “Well I guess that’s an important factor.”

“Yeah, just a minor detail,” you shoot back, grinning.

“I guess it’s all for the best. Didn’t like the looks of him much anyways.

You giggle. “What? Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be jealous.”

“Can’t be? Or aren’t?”

Jimin blinks back at you, an expression of utter surprise on his face. You know his answer in that moment, and yet — there is a kind of doubt that sits in you. That until he says it, it just won’t be real.

And still, he avoids your question.

“I think I’m gonna head home, do you wanna come with or head back with Tae and Raven?”

“I’ll come back with you, there’s nothing left here for me.”

“Great,” he says, a small smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

“My heat is still out,” you call.

You’re standing at the door to his room in nothing but your pajama shirt. When you’d gotten home Jimin was quick to wish you goodnight and sweet dreams and book it up to his bedroom. You had gone to your own room and changed into sleep clothes, only to climb into bed and realize just how fucking freezing your blankets still were.

But as you stand outside his bedroom, when you press down on the handle, the door is unusually locked. He never locks the door, you think.

“Jimin!”

You push down on the handle, jiggling it obnoxiously as you hope your best friend can hear you from the other side, and isn’t just ignoring you. As you rattle the metal handle, something seems to come loose within the door and all of a sudden the door is swinging open inwards and there’s Jimin, leaning against the backboard of his bed, legs spread, and--

“Oh no—”

Even as your hands flash up to cover your eyes, you know it’s too late.

You’ve already seen it.

It’s imprinted on your brain. The image of Jimin with his head thrown back, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock hastily pulled out of his jeans. He must have been in such a rush he didn’t even bother to pull his pants down. Instead, the leather pants are simply tugged down just enough from him to slip his cock out of them.

“What the fuck!” he yelps.

“Did I—interrupt?” You can’t help but burst into giggles, even as you keep your hands firmly clamped to your face.

“Yes! Yes, you did!” he says, scrambling for the sheet. He pulls it over himself and then does up his pants again.

“If it makes you feel any better you have a nice looking dick!” you squeak out from behind your hands.

He wipes a hand wearily over his face.

“You really wanna have a conversation about my dick right now?”

“See a dick, converse about a dick, am I right?” you laugh nervously.

“No, no, you’re not. It usually goes like ‘see a dick, forget the fact that you ever looked at a dick.’”

“You got a point there.”

The room falls into silence for a moment before Jimin coughs and speaks.

“You can take your hands away now.”

Ever-so-slowly you release your hands from your face, looking over at Jimin who looks — not upset, not embarrassed, not angry — but intrigued. He’s looking at you with a mix of curiosity — and something else. Something you can’t quite put a finger on.

“Welp, I better be going—”

“I thought you said your heat is still out.”

You turn back around slowly.

“...It is. But I can go. I don’t want to make you feel… uncomfortable.”

“You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if you could.”

“I’ve definitely made you feel uncomfortable before. Like that one time I put peanut butter on your special pickles and tried to fry them—”

“Okay, okay, maybe in like, a superficial way. But not in a deep way.” He pauses. “You’re my best friend for a reason.”

You’re still standing in the doorway, and as he looks you over — gaging your reaction, reading your emotions, trying to understand what’s going on in that far-off mind of yours — he realizes you’ve got your arms wrapped around your torso, protecting yourself from the biting draft that drifts down the hallway.

“Come ‘ere. You’re sleeping here tonight.” He says it without hesitation.

You look at him, and then back down the darkened hallway, and then back at him, the warm glow of his bedside lamp painting his features gold. His cheeks are still slightly flushed, his chest peeks out of his loose button down. And perhaps it’s that image that draws you to him — or, what you tell yourself in that moment, the inviting warmth of the layers of blankets on his bed and the radiator that sits close by.

You climb into bed, quickly tucking yourself into the blankets and rolling onto your side, away from him. However, you can feel his hands reaching out towards you, pulling the blankets closer to you, tucking you in further to their addicting warmth.

“I’m uh, gonna read for a little bit, is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, course,” you say, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow you’ve stolen and burry your face into.

He rifles through the nightstand. Behind you, he shifts, getting a bit more comfortable and you can hear the comforting sound of pages turning as he begins to read.

Even as you close your eyes, sleep evades you. As much as you try to banish it from your mind, it seems as if the image of his thick cock is burned into your retina, the vein on the underside of it swollen and pronounced. All you can see in your mind’s eye is Jimin, lost in his own pleasure. His face scrunched, eyes squeezed shut. What would it be like to see what he saw, whatever it was that had him gripping his cock so tight the knuckles began to turn white?

“So do you usually masterbate without porn?”

It slips out before you know what you’re saying.

He coughs behind you, and it sounds like he’s choking.

“What?!”

Well, you think. Now that it’s out there I might as well just go for it. You flip over onto your otherside, face half hidden by the blanket.

“When I walked in on you — you were just… lost in thought. No video or audio or,” you nod at the book he’s holding. “Rip off of Half a Hundred Colors of Dark-White.”

He gapes at you.

“Why are you so obsessed with my masterbatory habits, hm?”

“I-I’m not! I’m just curious, like one would be when they accidentally catch their best friend masterbating. We all, you know, do it. I, myself, have a very lovely connection of multi-colored vibrators — all sizes and shapes and, uh, textures? And vibrations and settings and speeds and—”

“So you wanna talk about it then?” He’s still sitting above, looking down on you. He cocks an eyebrow at your surprised expression. “You didn’t want to talk about last night but you want to talk about how I get myself off?”

It’s your turn to gape.

“Uh, what? Last night, psh no!”

He readjusts his position so he’s facing you now, one leg bent and propped up, the other one folded beneath it. You do your best to keep your gaze focused on his face, and not on the prominent bulge that is now in your direct line of vision.

“So you weren’t grinding on my cock last night — or god forbid tonight at the club — But you wanna know about my masterbatory habits?”

You swallow and despite the chill air of the bedroom, you sit up, letting the blankets fall around your waist.

“I suppose that is what I’m asking.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you lick your lips. You know what you’re asking. You know where you’re pushing things. Everything about this next step terrifies you. And yet, it’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past 24 hours. Hell, the past several years.

You’d be lying if you said that last night’s dream was the tamest of the ones Jimin starred in. He haunted you. His image, his being, were everywhere you turned. Even when you were with other partners or one night stands, all you could do was compare them to Jimin. Were they as softly hilarious as him? Did they know your every thought, your every desire, like he did? Could they anticipate your mood before you even could? Did they fill you with that feeling of belonging and safety like he did? No. None of them ever did. You didn’t just crave Jimin’s attention, you craved his touch.

“You know, most friends talk about this kind of shit.”

“Do they?”

“Yes. They talk about sex. They talk about getting off. They talk about their interests and turn-offs and fantasies and--”

“And you wanna talk about this?” His hand lands on yours. You look up at him as he squeezes your fingers within his warm grasp.

“I-I guess I do. Sometimes it bothers me that we don’t talk about it.”

“Then let’s talk about it,” he says, a little bit more confidence slipping into his voice. He picks your hand up, weaving his fingers in between yours. The way he looks at them reminds you of someone looking at a beautiful vista or an undiscovered creature for the first time. There is wonder -- and also confusion -- in him. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I never wanted to… turn our friendship into something that you didn’t want. Something that made you uncomfortable.”

“And I didn’t want to push.”

“Push me? Into what?”

You glance down at your hands. “I don’t know, something that you were disgusted by.”

“I could never be disgusted by you. It’s the opposite, actually.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away? When I want to talk about things? When I want to be close to you?”

Jimin is silent for a moment.

“Because I’m never sure if this is just fun to you,” he says softly. “What if something happens and you realize you don’t want it in the way you thought you did?”

“And what if something happens and it’s exactly what I want?” One hand still resting in his grasp, you reach out with the free one to clutch onto his shirt. Not wanting to push too far, you make do with tangling your fingers in the silky fabric, twisting it around yourself until you are lost in it.

You don’t see it coming. His hand reaching up to yours, pressing your hand to his chest. Slowly, he slides your intertwined hands up until he can press your palm to his chest. Beneath the fabric you can hear the gentle thud of his heart beating, quicker than usual. And there, he just holds it. Mulling. Contemplating.

“It feels like I’ve been distracted…” He licks his lips as he considers his next several words. “...for weeks. Probably longer. I’ve been trying to hold everything in because it’s not supposed to be there. But the temptation to just give in… To just lean into the things that I want… It’s always there. It doesn’t go away. But--sometimes I can distract myself from it.”

“What is it that you want?”

His gaze flickers back up from your lips. The look in his eyes is searing. Burning. There’s desire there — one that’s all consuming — but something else too. He refuses to look away from you, instead roving over your whole face as if he’s trying to memorize it. As if when he speaks next he might forget you entirely. And that’s when you realize. It’s not confusion dancing in his eyes. It’s loss. He thinks he’s going to lose you.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t have it.”

“You can.”  

“I can’t.” He squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s trying to hold back. “There— there are lines that once you cross you can never go back to.”

“Jimin, I want you.”

The words hang in the stilled silence of the room like lead, suspended and out of place. But you push on, and as you do, his grip tightens around your hands and he’s pulling you forward until you’re flush against his chest.

“And it’s not because of your monster cock -- although that’s like a really really great benefit that I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting--” Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Anyways, I want you for you. I think I’ve wanted you since I met you, but--” You glance down. “I’ve been too scared to admit it. Too scared or too dumb.”

Jimin raises your chin so that you are eye to eye. He’s so close.

“I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you.” He lets his hands drop to your hips, maneuvering you so that you’re fully straddling his waist as he sits up against the headboard. “I wanted you in my life, in whatever way that would be. I wanted you as my best friend and my inspiration and my home -- and to have you like that? I would never want to fuck it up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Simple as that,” he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He tightens his grip and you instinctively wrap your hands around his neck, tugging him closer to you.

“Simple as that,” you repeat.

The words hang in the air for a moment, filling the space of the bedroom. And then their sound is gone, leaving the air vacant of sound. The weight of what you’ve both just said crashes down upon you.

Simple as that.

“I want to kiss you,” Jimin whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

“Always,” you barely manage to mumble before your lips are crashing together. They begin clumsily, desperate. Teeth knocking together as you both scramble frantically for connection. For the missed years. For the gazes thrown across the hallway, quick and longing.

And then you find your groove. Just like on the dance floor, there is an unspoken communication to the way that you move together. Chasing and pursuing. Biting and pressing. You gasp as Jimin slips his tongue between your lips, swiping against the roof of your mouth.

It feels like forever and no time at all that you’re wrapped up in his arms, his hands climbing the height of your back as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

As the kiss slips into gentleness, you feel him between your legs. He’s impossibly hard. You don’t know if it’s thought or basic instinct that leads you to press your hips forward, sliding ever so slightly along his length. You know you’ve done the right thing when he groans into your mouth. You do it again, this time swiveling against him. His hands snake down to your hips, fingers digging into the fleshy bits of your sides.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” he groans against your lips.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He kisses you fiercely and you let your hands wander beneath the silk of his shirt, tracing the planes of his skin until you’ve had enough and need more. You attempt to tug the fabric up, but he seems lost in your lips.

“Off, please,” you say when you can’t get it over his shoulders.

He grins at you and shucks it off in one go, tossing it onto the floor.

You lean back just enough to admire him like this, the planes of his chest glowing dimly in the light of the lamp.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur in awe.

He captures your lips again, his movements soft and dutiful. And then with all the gentleness in the world, he turns the both of you, cradling the nape of your neck as he lowers you down onto the pillows.

“I never thought I could have you like this.”

“Me neither. I-I don’t know if I can go back.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I already know I don’t want to go back.”  

You smile up at him, a feeling of warmth and love spreading through your chest. As he sits back, looking down on you, you tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to join his discarded top on the floor.

His eyes rove over your naked form, bare of everything except for the grannie panties you slipped on before knocking on his door. At the beginning of the night you wanted nothing but to make sure everything was thoroughly covered. Now you wish you had gone for something a bit more stylish.

Even as you think this, looking at him you know he doesn’t give a flying fuck what you’re wearing.

He leans down again, kissing you. He lets his weight rest just enough on you as he settles between your legs and you arch up at the dull contact.

As he bites down on your lip, you push up into him, searching for more.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Please,” you gasp.

His hand comes down on your thigh, pushing you open just enough. And then, as he comes back to kiss you, he slips his hand down your stomach, fingers teasing at the waistband of your panties.

You can’t help as your hips buck up as he slips a finger down your folds. You’re already soaking, arousal quickly coating his finger.

“Shh, shh,” he whispers against your lips, gaze searching yours. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

As the final word slips out of his mouth, he inserts the first finger into your tight entrance and you yelp in pleasure, the feeling of him filling you more sensation than you could imagine. Ever so slowly, he begins to pump it in and out before adding a second finger.

“I want to get you ready for me,” he murmurs. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want it,” you gasp as he presses against your g spot. “Please, I need it, please, Jimin, fuck me.”

“Patience, baby. I will in due time. But first I need you a little more stretched out.”  

When he adds a third finger, the pressure building deliciously in your abdomen, there’s nothing you can do to hold back the way your body jerks or the whine that slips through your lips.

“God, I never even imagined you would sound this desperate, this beautiful.”

As he continues to press against the soft spongy spot inside you, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep control but quickly losing it.

“You thought about this?”

“Of course I thought about it.”

“Tell me what you thought about,” you pant, his fingers still working rhythmically in and out of you.

“The list is endless,” he murmurs. “I think about what it would feel like to fuck you. What it would sound like to have you call my name. What it would be like to have you cum again and again around my cock, and then walk out of here, with it dripping down your leg so that anyone who sees will know it too. To have you so fucked out and screaming that everyone in a ten mile radius knows exactly who is fucking you so well, who you belong to.”

“Ah!” you cry as your orgasm begins to build. “Jimin! I’m so close, I--”

And just like that, his fingers are gone from your clenching walls and you are left with a feeling of absolute emptiness drifting through you. He pulls back with a smirk.

“Wha--”

“When you come, I want it to be around my cock.”

Your gaze flickers down to his crotch, where his dick is straining against the tight confines of the leather. “That just can’t be comfortable,” you say, your voice shaking even as you unapologetically eye his obvious arousal. “Please take them off. I’ll make you feel good.”

“You can?”

“I want to,” you explain. “I want to help.” You look up at him again and see that his gaze is dark with desire. “Can I?”

Slowly, he nods, and you reach out towards him, for the buttons to his jeans. As your fingers land on the cold metal of the button, his come down atop yours, popping the button open expertly.

As you slowly slide the zipper down, you swallow.

Everything about this feels right. There’s the sensation of a fire burning in your chest. It’s not just wanting his body. It’s chasing the feeling of electricity sparking through you every time he touches you. Chasing the want of his hands, his gaze, his everything focused on you. Something twinges in your heart. Even as you want these things, you know it’s not fair to ask them of him, to expect them of him.

He stands to slip the rest of his pants off and you realize he’s not even wearing underwear. You gulp as you watch him strip, his beautiful body soon revealed in the dim lighting. His cock stands at full attention, deliciously hard and poking against his belly.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.

“I want it more than anything.”

The bed dips underneath his weight as he climbs towards where you lay. He lowers himself above you, expertly balancing his weight so that it doesn’t crush you. With one hand, he reaches down to palm his hard cock, the tip red and angry with need. With his knee, he pushes your legs wide open, making room for himself and spreading you out before him. At a devastatingly slow speed, he lines himself up with your aching center.

“So wet for me, princess. You’ve always been beautiful to me, but spread out like this, just waiting for my cock? You’re a dream.”

“Please,” you gasp.

“Please what?”

As he comes to nestle his cock in between your dripping folds, you whimper with need.

All you can feel is his cock, his touch against your skin, the way his presence surrounds you and envelopes you.

“Please,” you whisper. “I need you, Jimin.”

He chuckles.

“You’re so desperate, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

“My baby wants me to fuck her?” He slides slowly in and your back arches devilishly at the sensation of his fat cock stretching you open for him. He watches your facial expression carefully, not wanting to hurt you or push you too far too fast.

When he sees you relax just a little, he pushes in even further until he’s nestled inside you to the hilt. Once he knows you’re comfortable, he lets himself slip into the pleasure of you wrapped all around him. His eyes flutter closed, and he nestles his nose into the crook of your neck.

Gathering himself, he takes a deep breath, pushing up off of you so that he can better look down at you, your hair splayed on the pillow, cheeks warm with arousal, eyes wide in pleasure.

“God, you’re perfect for my cock. Like you were made to fit me.”

“Mmf, so big,” you groan as he shifts inside you. “Never felt this full before.”

As he begins to move, you gasp, hands coming up to cling at his back. The drag of his cock against the walls of your cunt is divine and you can’t help as your nails dig into his skin, raking down the planes of his back.

His eyes never leave your face, tracing your pleasure every time it flashes across your features.

“When I imagined this,” he pants, “I never even thought it could feel this good.”

He withdraws at a maddeningly slow pace, until just the tip of his cock rests inside your warmth.

“Please Jimin,” you gasp. “I need more.”

He smirks down at you. “More?” He gives a shallow thrust.

“More,” you groan, trying to push your hips down on him, anything to take him further into you. However, his hand quickly comes down on your hips, stopping all movement.

Leaning down to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, you gasp into his mouth as he thrusts into you with a great force. You cry his name as he bites down on your lower lip, the pace he sets brutal and exactly what you need. Each thrust rolls through your entire body, setting your nerves alight. When he gives a particularly hard thrust, your spine arches, hands slipping away from his back and coming to wrap around his wrists.

When he growls, you clench at the sound.

Your eyes flicker open in time to see his mouth gape and he groans when you do it again.

He answers your tightness with another roll of his hips, this time changing the angle just enough that it hits your g spot directly. You spasm around his cock, crying out as he continues to fuck you.

“You’ve ruined me,” Jimin gasps. “Nothing else, no one else is going to be like this. I wanna fuck this cunt until you can’t think of anything else.”

You start to respond, to tell him how much you want that, but his hand comes down on your clit, rubbing just gently enough that you’re yelping in a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation.

“I’m really gonna fuck you now, baby. I want you to touch yourself until you can’t anymore, okay?”

You nod, reaching down to your clit where your fingers brush against one another. You look down to see his cock rutting in and out of you, coated in your juices. As he withdraws his hand, he begins to pick up his speed.

The pace he sets reaches deep into your body, setting every nerve alight. You cling to him, begging him to fuck you harder. His cock seems to reach every single sensitive spot within you as rock your hips back up to his, meeting his every movement. He lets you now, lost in the feeling of your bodies moving together, seeking the same pleasure together.

When his pace begins to stutter, thrusts becoming long and rough, you know he’s close to his end.

“Baby, I’m going to come,” he groans. He begins to sit back up and withdraw, but you wrap a hand around his neck and pull him towards you, the other one coming to press on the dip of his hips.

“Come inside, Jimin.”

“But--”

“I’m safe. I want to feel you come inside me. Wanna come with you.”

He groans at your words and lowers himself to you, letting his hips grind against yours in a tide of sensation. Each movement pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm until three words are tumbling from his lips and you are tipping over the edge.

He kisses you as you both ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing through your body and into his as if you are connected on more than just a physical level. His lips are soft against yours, guiding you through your orgasm. Everything is breathless and wildly full, all at once.

Pulling back as his cock twitches within you, he peppers your neck with kisses, his plush lips pressing softly against the delicate skin beneath your ear.

“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I love you too,” you hum, eyes fluttering blissfully closed as you tangle a hand in his hair, pressing him closer to you.

That’s how you fall asleep. Tangled up in each other, bodies meshed together until there’s no way to tell which way is up.

You wake up wrapped in warmth. The kind of warmth that radiates from your heart, shining on outwards and into the room around you. And, as your eyes blink open, you notice it also radiates from the absolute furnace that clings to your back.

“Mmm,” the furnace grumbles, rubbing his nose against the soft nape of your neck. You can feel him press his lips against the top of your spine, his breath fanning delicately against your skin. “G’morning.”

“Morning.” You speak softly, as if any noise will break the memory of last night, his whispered affections against your skin as you drifted off to sleep still hanging in the air. Too loud and you will shatter and destroy the memory. The words of his confession still carved into your skin, your mixed pleasures riddled through your body, the song of his joy and laughter emblazoned into the room -- all of that, you think, will disappear if you move too quickly or speak too loudly.

However, that notion is quickly banished when Jimin rolls over and groans dramatically, spreading his limbs out until he starfishes over the entire bed -- including you. With a little grunt, he flips over on his belly, shimmying over to you. Pulling the blankets down around you, you gasp as the cool air hits your skin.

He’s quick to rectify this as he rolls onto you, resting his head on your stomach, blowing a raspberry into your skin. You screech in laughter and as the sensation rushes through you, tickling you.

It takes a minute or two before you calm down, looking lovingly down at the man who holds your heart and running a hand through his hair, brushing it off of his forehead.

“I love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your belly.

“Do you?” you giggle, doubt still riddled in your mind.

His eyes shoot up to yours.

“Of course I do. Is there any question about it?” You look down on him, worry in your gaze. “Oh, baby.” He’s quick to prop himself up on his hands, but still stays sprawled out atop you, his weight heavy and comforting. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you--” You open your mouth to tell him there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but his hand comes up quickly and covers your mouth, effectively shushing you. “--at least I knew I was going to love you the first time I saw you. I knew I was going to fall madly and deeply in love with all of your quirks and strange obsessions and deep passions and maddenly horrible humor. And I knew I loved you a year in, and every day after that.”

You look down on him, tears welling up in your eyes at his sincerity.

“Come ‘ere,” you say, pulling him up towards you. He crawls up your chest, playfully nipping at your bare breasts before settling against you. He kisses you. Lets you sink into the sensation. And then he pulls back and says,

“Aren’t you going to tell me you love me too?”

You don’t know if you’ll ever get enough of that dorky smile.

But you do know the tears threatening to spill over are rising from the deep, unnamable affection that rolls through your chest, finally released from silence. You want to call it love, and that is what you will call it, but there’s also something that goes so much deeper than the word itself. Something you know you will spend your whole life trying to explain to him.

read more: masterlist 

Taglist: @taestannie @thatlongspringnight @spicykoreantatertots​ @usuallynervoussheep​ @hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​@lucedelsole97​ @heichooou​ @jiminskth​

[lumosinlove]

Coast To Coast

(basically just smut with lots of feelings. Be warned.)

part vi

Leo was on the couch, scrolling through his phone with his air pods in, when he heard a key in the lock. Finn was back from his run, Logan would get home from the airport soon. Leo and Finn had probably sent Logan way too many dirty Snapchats and, now, maybe Leo could squeeze in one more. Pin a sweaty, flushed Finn to the couch and—

The door opened and Logan walked through. Leo pushed himself up onto one elbow, taking his earbuds out.

“Tremz?”

Logan saw him and grinned, sliding his beat headphones around his neck. Leo swallowed at the sight of him in his plane rumpled suit. It was probably just that this was all new, that Leo suddenly had everything he had ever wanted—that was why all he could think about was sliding Logan out of his clothes, like he hadn’t gotten to that first night, all too caught up in the intense, euphoric but exhausting rolling emotions of everything. They had fallen asleep, tangled in Finn’s bed. Leo had never slept so soundly.

Logan dropped his bag with a groan and closed his eyes. “I am home, that was so much, and I need a drink and a kiss.”

Leo laughed, snapping his air pod case shut and tossing it on the ground with his phone. “I can provide those things,” he let his thighs splay, just a little, inviting.

Logan zeroed in on the minute motion and tugged his headphones free, dropping them with his wallet and keys on the kitchen island before walking the few strides to the couch and more or less flopping down on top of Leo.

Leo let out an oof and a laugh, and then Logan’s mouth was on his.

“Where’s Harzy?” Logan asked between kisses, so unwilling to stop that they were barely words at all.

“Run,” Leo said. “You’re early.”

“Plane was early. Merde, Peanut, you and your fucking videos,” Logan breathed.

Leo grinned. “You liked them?”

“I think all I did was jack off when I was alone.”

Leo nipped at his lower lip gently. “You know, we haven’t been alone yet.”

Logan’s breath stuttered in his chest. Leo could feel it, against his own. Leo wanted to feel it again but, looking in Logan’s eyes, shadowed from unrest, Leo wanted something else more right then.

“Go put something comfy on, sweetheart,” Leo pressed a kiss to the corner of Logan’s soft mouth. “I’ll start dinner, okay?”

Logan’s smile was slow and sleepy. “We have all night, don’t we.”

“And tomorrow,” Leo whispered. “And the day after that, and after that…”

They were kissing again, and Leo was warm all over. He was already beginning to pick out his favorite things about kissing Logan, about kissing Finn, and how they were different. Finn liked to take more control. He liked Leo’s neck, used his teeth a little, he liked making Leo laugh and then kissing it right out of his mouth. Logan didn’t seem to mind either way, who was aiming the kiss. Logan liked to find skin, bare and warm, to touch and kiss. Leo’s breathing hitched as Logan’s cool fingers pressed under his sweatshirt to his bare back. His calloused hands touched Leo like a favorite sweater. Leo felt his cock stir, thinking about where Logan’s fingers could roam.

“D’accord,” Logan sighed, and Leo closed his eyes when he pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Leo felt cool all over when Logan got up, disappearing into Leo’s room, but he smiled to himself as he stretched out on the couch, cracking his back before walking into the kitchen. He thrummed with Logan’s touch.

He thought briefly about texting Finn as he put water on to boil and got out some ingredients for a salad, but he liked the idea of him walking in on a complete surprise. He turned on the bluetooth speakers Finn had set up around the house and turned on some low music. The apartment felt more settled than it ever had with Logan’s bags by the door, Finn due back any second, himself getting ready to make them all dinner.

“What are you making?”

Leo turned at Logan’s voice. “I was thinking some sort of pasta…” He trailed off, staring.

Logan raised an eyebrow, but his own smile showed that he knew exactly what was happening.

“What?” he said anyway.

Leo looked him over. “Nice outfit.”

Logan gathered the sleeves of Leo’s sweatshirt, falling to his thighs, into his hands and shrugged. It was an old one from one of Leo’s training camps, warn and soft from so many washes. Seeing Logan in it was something else. The camp name, a place where Leo had worked so hard to hide who he really was, stitched across the chest of the boy he had just spent twenty minutes kissing, a boy who had said he couldn’t wait to come home to Leo...

It was a horrible forever coming to an end and exchanged with a perfect one.

Logan shuffled over, adidas sweatpants fitted around his strong thighs, and stepped onto Leo’s socked feet with his own, stretching to wrap his arms around Leo’s neck.

“Tu l’aime?” Logan asked.

“Oui,” Leo said, smiling. “Is this the start of a new era? Am I going to lose all of my sweatshirts now?”

“Yes,” Logan pressed a light kiss to Leo’s mouth.

Leo really couldn’t believe this was his life now.

“Good,” he said.

“Hey,” Logan reached behind Leo and flicked the stove off. The water bubbled, and then quieted. “I’m not hungry yet.”

Leo’s entire body spiked with heat. “No?”

“We haven’t been alone together, yet,” Logan repeated Leo’s words, smiling hard into their next kiss.

Leo laughed and walked them backwards, Logan’s feet still on his, until Leo could whisper a soft, jump, and hoisted a flushed Logan up to sit on the kitchen island. Logan spread his thighs for him, heels pressing behind his knees. “What could we be doing when Finn walks in?”

“So many things,” Logan sighed, and pushed his hands under the hem of Leo’s sweatshirt. “Take this off, c’mon.”

Leo reached behind his head and tugged his sweatshirt off. Immediately, Logan’s lips were on his chest, his fingers pressing in between Leo’s ribs, sinking in when he breathed.

“Leo,” Logan breathed and tilted his head back up to kiss him hard, tongue pushing into his mouth.

Leo could feel himself getting hard at the mere thought that this would be their first time, the first time with both of them. Logan’s hands were warm and creeping down to his waistband now, fingertips wedging lightly beneath the elastic of his sweatpants.

Leo tugged at Logan’s sweatshirt—well, his. “Even though you look incredibly sweet…”

Logan put his hands up so Leo could lift the thick material off of him. The second it was discarded, Logan was hooking his ankles around Leo more securely and pulling them against each other. None of them had been touched in the way they wanted to be in so long.

“Missed you,” Leo said, and leaned down to kiss Logan’s neck. “It wasn’t fair that we got, what, fifteen hours together?”

Logan laughed. “Believe me, I got to the hotel and regretted not staying up all night with you two. Especially when Finn sent me you…”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Sucking his cock?”

Logan bit his lip. “Yeah…” He smiled. “How does it feel to be Harzy’s first blowjob from a boy?”

“Good,” Leo splayed his palms against Logan’s thighs, thumbs creeping towards the bulge in his sweatpants. “If I can be yours, too.”

Logan made a low sound in his throat, his eyes closing. Leo smiled and leaned into bite gently at his jaw.

“What do you think?” Leo said softly. “Is that something Finn could walk in on?”

The words were barely out of Leo’s mouth before they heard a key in the lock to their right.

Finn was looking down as he entered, headphones in.

“Nutty,” he shouted much too loudly. “I’m ho—oh.”

Finn stopped. His red hair was sticking up with sweat in the front, cheeks flushed a dark red from exertion, and his mouth was already parted from his pants, but it stayed that way with the sight in front of him. Leo saw Logan smile from the corner of his eye, resting his head on Leo’s bare shoulder.

“Hi, Fish,” Logan said softly. “I’m home, too.”

Finn just slowly took his air pods out. One, then the other. He set his phone down. He stripped off his sweaty jacket, a thin Nike thing that clung to his lean chest. It dropped to the floor, leaving him in only his shorts with his thermal leggings beneath them, and his white clinging t-shirt. His chest was heaving as he stared, eyebrows drawn together.

“I…” he began, and shook his head slowly. “I love my life.”

Leo laughed. “I really didn’t know what you were going to say.”

Finn just smiled and walked forward, toeing out of his sneakers. Logan reached for him and Leo wrapped an arm around Finn’s waist.

“Tremz,” Finn said after Logan pulled him in for a kiss. “You were amazing, baby. At the game. You should’ve won hardest shot. But maybe you’ll win tonight, eh?”

“You’re so sweaty,” Logan mumbled against Finn’s talking mouth.

“Sorry. I thought you weren’t coming home until—”

“No, it’s good,” Logan said, and kissed him again, fisting the back of his shirt. “It’s good.”

“Gross,” Leo said, and then laughed at the offended noise Finn made into the kiss.

“I was running—”

“I’m kissing you, stop talking,” Logan said.

“Sorry,” Finn said and captured Logan’s lip between his teeth, pulling it before letting go. “What are we doing?”

Logan’s stomach made a loud hunger noise and Leo looked at him.

“You are hungry.”

“I wanted to make out.”

“Well,” Leo turned around with a little squeeze to Logan’s thighs. “Now I’m making dinner first.”

“Can I watch?” Logan said, eyes looking over Leo’s bare back. He leaned back on his hands on the counter. Leo just smiled and flicked the water back on, taking up a knife.

“Then, I’ll take a shower real quick,” Finn said, then took Leo’s place between Logan’s legs. The interchange felt like the most natural thing in the world. Finn’s hands cradled Logan’s hips, hands cold from the wind on his bare skin. His grin was playful, something as familiar to Logan as the puck on his stick. “Hey, like our sex tapes?”

“Those were not sex tapes, Harz,” Leo said as he chopped celery.

Finn shrugged, busy pressing slow kiss after slow kiss to Logan’s mouth.

“You’re literally dripping on me,” Logan said.

“I’m proud of you. We’re proud of you.”

Logan lost some of his fire at that, eyes going a little foggy as he stared at Finn’s mouth. Finn smiled and retreated, giving Leo’s butt a hard tap as he went.

“I’ll be back in ten, gents.”

“Twenty,” Leo and Logan rolled their eyes at the same time, and then looked at each other. Leo felt yet another slow curl of warmth weave its way into the others currently stemming from his fingertips to his chest.

Dinner wasn’t a huge affair. Pasta in cream sauce with sausage, a salad. There was wine and beer but none of them went for it. Leo left the dishes for the morning, and soon they were all in the living room with their bowls, Leo sprawled on the couch with his feet in Finn’s lap—a position they had pretended was purely platonic for a long time, even when Finn’s hand would drop to rub gently at Leo’s ankle in a way that made it impossible to focus on any movie (and lead to a few awkward hard-ons). Logan was sitting sideways in one of the large leather chairs, nearly wolfing down the food.

“Can you explain Regulus to us, I mean…dude,” Finn shook his head, red hair darker from his shower and sticking up in all directions from the towel. “Fist bump? Their mom?”

“Baby Black’s in Gryffindor. He came back with us.”

“What?” Leo said. “He flew back with you? Doesn’t he have a game in like—”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t know if he’s even playing anymore. I’m not one hundred percent on what went down, but Cap looked…well, really fucking happy, actually. But also spooked as hell. I don’t know.”

“Fuck,” Finn said, tapping his fork against his bowl. “That’s…”

Logan stretched to put his empty bowl on the coffee table, giving Leo and Finn a nice view of his broad chest and shoulders, before leaning back with a sigh. “It was an intense couple days. But…worth it. I think it went pretty well all things considered.”

“Loops seemed okay by the end of it, too,” Leo nodded. “I mean, yeah, all things considered.”

“You guys are great for going over to his,” Logan smiled with a tilt of his head. “I mean, we owe him a lot.”

“Oh, we told him,” Finn patted Leo’s knee. “Worked better than your make out plan, no offense.”

“Non? Tu n’aime pas se rouler des pelles, Harzy?”

Finn scoffed, setting his bowl down, too, with a clatter. “Non, non, non. Nom nom nom.”

Leo laughed. He poked his toe into Finn’s stomach. “You might want a translation of that one before you answer like that.”

Finn looked up, face going a little more serious, if not suspicious. “Why? What?” he looked at Logan. “What, Lo?”

Leo set his own bowl down lastly, and sat up so he could get his hands on Finn’s hips, pulling and coaxing him until he was straddling Leo’s thighs on the couch and Leo could guide him down into a kiss.

“You don’t like making out?” Logan said from the chair. “C’est un dommage.”

“Oui, a shame,” Leo mumbled as Finn made a low noise into Leo’s mouth and kissed him harder.

Leo heard a shaky breath come from Logan’s direction, blood spiking as he realized Logan was watching them. He was right there, all three of them, they had all night. He had to look. He urged Finn down to his neck, damp hair cool on his skin, and turned his head. Logan was sprawled frontward in the chair now, a strong hand resting just beside where Leo could see he was hard again in his sweatpants, cock beginning to press up against the fabric. His fingers twitched like he wanted to touch himself, but didn’t want to do it alone. Leo’s heart thrummed at the sight, at the fact that he could feel Finn fattening up against his hip.

“Bed,” Finn said. “Let’s go somewhere where we can be closer.” Finn looked over at Logan, too, after a last kiss to Leo, and Leo watched his eyes zero in on Logan’s hand and bulge, too. He cursed, and stood. “Bed.”

“Whose?” Leo asked, standing too. His own cock felt hot and needy already between his thighs.

“Mine,” Finn called as he ran down the hall. "I want memories in that thing.”

Leo laughed and walked over to offer a hand to Logan. He took it and stood.

“Good?” Leo said.

Logan just looked at him, one hand pressing to Leo’s bare chest, while the other hooked itself into Leo’s sweatpants band. A question. Leo nodded without hesitation.

He expected Logan to pull the material away, but instead Logan just reached out and cupped him through his pants, palm pressing on Leo’s semi with an easy pressure. Leo let out a shaky sigh, hand curling around Logan’s hip to steady himself. Logan was just touching him, watching his own hand palm Leo’s cock gently, feeling it stiffen, and then looking up at Leo’s face.

“How long?” Leo whispered.

Logan huffed out a quiet laugh. “With a boy? With someone I actually wanted? Finn. His senior year.”

Leo leaned down and kissed Logan hard, hips stuttering within Logan’s gentle fingers.

“All night,” Leo reminded him.

“Guys,” Finn’s voice came from down the hall, and Leo and Logan laughed into each other’s mouths. Logan gave Leo a last playful squeeze before they followed Finn.

Finn, who was sprawled out on his bed completely naked, jacking his cock lazily with his head tilted back. His skin was miles of hard muscle. He freckles were the thickest on the tops of his shoulders and cheekbones, but the rest of his was pale marble, smooth and begging to be touched, marked. Leo heard Logan practically moan from beside him, and then Logan was crawling onto the bed and right over Finn’s bare body while Leo watched. Logan straddled Finn’s thighs, clothed cock brushing Finn’s erection. The playfulness fell out of Finn’s expression as he watched Logan settle himself over him. Leo sat on the edge of the bed beside them, and remembered what Finn had said. They’d never even undressed, Logan had never been anything but rushed—

“Lo,” Finn said softly, reaching up and smoothing his hands down Logan’s sides. “Can I?”

Logan nodded hurriedly, seemingly unable to speak, and Finn let out a breath as he rolled them over, gently pressing Logan back into the mattress with his mouth and hips. Finn’s hands found the band of Logan’s sweatpants and pulled back from the kiss, sitting back on his heels. His cock was a pink against his skin, gone a little softer now in the moment. Logan lifted his hips up so that Finn could, finally, pull away Logan’s clothes. He did it almost reverently, bending to kiss his exposed hip bone. What he had done for Finn, Leo realized with a wonderful ache. Logan’s mouth dropped open as his own cock sprang free, fully hard and glistening at the tip. Leo had to press a hand down on himself, just to relieve some pressure. It was mesmerizing, watching Finn lean forward again and press their hips together, his pale skin a marbled contrast against Logan’s tan. Leo could remember sitting, alone in his childhood bed, allowing himself a few guilty nights where he could think about whatever he wanted. Usually, it had been more of a faceless boy. Just someone who wanted him, who’d kiss him, fuck him. This, though. Those faceless nights didn’t even compare.

Finn gasped as their cocks brushed together and Leo felt his own straining against his sweatpants.

When Finn looked back at Leo, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. “Think it’s time we show him, Nut?”

“Yes,” Leo sighed out and made to kick his sweatpants away when Logan’s hand around his wrist stopped him.

“Je veux,” Logan began, breathless. His dark hair was splayed across the pillows, one of his heels wrapped around the back of Finn’s thigh. “I want to, let me.”

“Fuck,” Finn breathed out, and rolled to the side, still pressed against Logan.

Leo walked forward on the bed on his knees and reached out to wrap a hand around Logan’s cock. It was hot in his hand, and Logan all but whined into it, back pressing up. Finn bent to kiss his neck, his own hand reaching down to cup Logan’s balls. Logan cursed and planted his heels against the bed, pressing up into their touch. He reached out, searching for Leo. Leo caught his hand and guided it back where Logan wanted—where Leo wanted Logan. Logan’s warm fingers tugged the band down below his balls, freeking Leo’s cock, sticky with precome.

“Oh god,” Logan groaned.

“Right?” Finn said, eyes on Leo.

Leo blushed. He knew he was big, but he was tall. It seemed proportionate, he thought, nothing special. It wasn’t like he’d really had anyone to say anything about it before. To him, Finn and Logan were better. Finn was long and Leo now knew he came a lot, in heavy strips that nearly made Leo dizzy. Logan, if not as big, was thick, just like the rest of him. It made Leo yearn at the thought of having him inside of him, made his cock drool. Logan stared at the beaded tip and then reached out, brushing his fingertips over it before smoothing the slickness down Leo’s shaft.

“Fuck, Tremz, let me just—” Leo kicked his pants away as quickly as he could before mirroring Finn’s position, pressing up against Logan’s side and turning his head for a kiss while his hand went back to his cock.

It was them. The three of them. Pressed against one another, alone, together. The All-Star game had lasted years. Leo wanted. He wanted dinner, every night in this apartment. He wanted to make them laugh and happy and—love. He wanted to take them to bed, and make them sigh and moan and cling to him. He wanted to cling to them, he wanted them inside. Leo gasped into Logan’s mouth and pressed his heavy cock against Logan’s hip. He gripped Logan’s, giving it tight, slow pulls.

“Finn, do you have—”

“Yeah,” Finn said, and rolled away onto his back, stretching to reach his beside table. Logan didn’t seem to like the loss of contact, and mumbled as he pulled Leo on top of him, using his heels to press him down. It startled a sound out of Leo and he gripped the pillow by Logan’s head. Leo looked down at where their cocks nudged together and took them in his hand. Logan’s head was dropped back onto the pillow like he was already half-way there, small, panting breaths leaving his mouth.

“Jesus, Tremz,” Finn said as he returned with a small bottle. “I mean I know you were loud in every other situation, but—”

He was cut off when Logan groaned brokenly at a well-aimed grind by Leo. Finn flushed all the way down to his chest, but that was the last thing Leo saw before he was ducking to kiss Logan’s exposed throat.

Finn watched them, barely breathing. Leo got his knees beneath him, splayed wide as he released their cocks and ground his hips down instead. It was fucking obscene, and Finn was probably going to lose his mind. Finn rested back on the bed for a minute, reaching down to touch himself. The tendons in Logan’s throat were bared as Leo rutted against him while sucking a bruise into his neck.

“Leo,” Logan all but moaned in, voice raspy and low.

Finn groaned, and it drew Logan’s eyes to him. They were a hazy green, and trained from Finn’s face, to his working arm, and finally to his cock, pink in his fist. He looked mesmerized.

Finn felt shaky-limbed as he pushed himself up to kneel, swiping the lube up from the sheets and squeezing a generous amount into his palm. With his dry hand, he lightly touched the small of Leo’s back.

“Peanut,” Finn said, bending to kiss just above the swell of his ass. “Can I?”

He asked because Leo had said he wanted it, but he wanted to make sure. That was probably something they should all talk about. Finn would tell them he didn’t know how he felt about getting fucked, but he sure as hell knew he wanted to make them feel good that way.

Leo seemed equally enthusiastic. He lifted his head, cheeks red, and looked back at Finn.

“Yes, yes—” he said, pushing back against Finn’s palm. “Yeah, Harzy.”

“What,” Logan panted, straining his head up to look. He saw how Fin was poised, where his wet fingers were trailing to. Logan’s smile was a little delirious, brows knit in pleasure. “Fuck. Oh fuck, me next, okay?”

Finn reached down to grip himself hard, resting his forehead against Leo’s warm skin. He was throbbing at even the thought, the image of them splayed out for him, both of them, waiting—

“Or…” Leo said. “I could fuck you. While Harzy fucks me.”

The idea sent goosebumps over Finn’s neck.

“Yes,” Logan said firmly. “Allez.”

“Do we…need condoms?” Finn asked hesitantly. Secretly, he’d been thinking about it. The idea of it being just them. “We all just got tested this month for check ups and I haven’t been with anyone in like…a long fucking time.”

“Me too,” Leo said.

Logan bit his lip against a smile. “Same.”

“Okay…” Finn’s heart pounded and he squeezed Leo’s hip. “Everyone cool with that?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m cool with that,” Leo said, and Finn laughed.

Logan hesitated, and then said, “I’ve never actually done this before. I mean, I’ve fingered myself but I’ve never had anyone else to…”

“We just gotta go slow,” Leo said. “Talk to each other. We’ll figure out what feels good, you know? I…I trust you guys with, well, everything.”

“Aw, Nut, baby,” Finn smiled. “Of course, we’ll talk to each other. We all know Logan’s good at that.”

“Look who’s talking,” Logan said, then, “me first,” and he spread his muscular thighs apart.

Finn snorted. “Jesus, Lo.”

Leo laughed and sat up, Finn behind him to suck on his neck and hand him the lube. Finn tried to watch Leo as much as possible. Having never thought much of fingering, he’d never tried it on himself. Leo was gentle, so gentle, and Logan—he really did love it. He pushed back on Leo’s fingers while Leo soothed his palm over his hip, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the base of Logan’s leaking cock.

“Fuck, Nutty, do that more, he likes it,” Finn said lowly in Leo’s ear as Logan thrashed.

“So fucking hot,” Leo said shakily.

“Allez,” Logan said, kicking one heel against Leo’s thigh. “Allez, Leo, Leo.”

“D’accord,” Leo hushed him. “Harzy’s gotta do me.”

“I—okay, you have to tell me if I’m doing bad or good,” Finn said with a deep breath, taking the lube.

Leo looked over his shoulder with a smile—a feat that really should be illegal—and leaned back for a kiss.

“Trust you,” Leo said, and then promptly bent over Logan for a kiss, baring himself to Finn.

Finn wanted to be as gentle as Leo. He felt shaky with anticipation and—and love, he thought. The feeling caught his breath and stole it, ready to be released. But he focused on the task at hand, cherishing the full cup of it in his chest instead of spilling it over without a thought. Love, love, love. He poured it into his slow work, drawing the most perfect sounds from Leo.

“Baby,” Finn whispered, pressing kiss after kiss to Leo’s spine. “Tell me.”

“—so good,” Leo’s voice caught in an ah—“Finn.”

Finn felt like he was melting from the inside out at the feeling of Leo clenching around his fingers. He took it as the cue it was and hauled Leo up from where Logan had been kissing the noises out of his mouth.

“You first, Peanut,” Finn grinned. He tucked his chin over Leo’s shoulder, hands stroking his sides.

“Okay, Tremz?” Leo said softly, and Logan scoffed, kicking him again and making Leo pinch his side playfully.

Leo stroked himself a few times before slowly lining himself up and pressing in. Finn’s eyes flicked up to Logan’s face, which opened up completely, eyes going unfocused, his breathing hard.

“Ah—You’re so—” Logan gasped as Leo sunk into his heat. “Leo.”

Leo had his chin tilted down, watching his hips inch closer to Logan’s. Finn could feel him breathing against his chest.

“Fuck,” Finn whispered. “You two…”

Leo was careful and slow, stopping a few times to catch his breath, but finally, he and Logan were pressed together. Logan’s cock was leaking and red against his stomach.

“Logan,” Leo said.

Logan made an incoherent sound, and then lifted his hips to push back against Leo’s. Both of them sighed, and then Leo put his hands on Logan’s hips and pulled out about half way before pressing in again.

Logan whined low in his throat, cock pulsing. “Yeah, fuck yeah…” he brought a hand below his balls, feeling where Leo was moving inside of him. Leo fucked him in slow, long drags that Finn could practically feel with every brush of Leo’s ass against his own cock.

“Leo,” Finn began urgently.

Leo nodded. “Please, Harz.”

Finn’s hands were definitely shaking as he finally touched himself. He was solid and warm in his own hand, had never seen himself this fucking turned on before, besides for being with Logan. But, after that, sex had always been accompanied by a twinge of sadness.

There was no room for that sadness now, not with his boys with him.

Finn spread some more lube onto himself for good measure and groaned at the slippery feeling before tentatively pressing the crown of his dick against Leo’s entrance.

“Knutty,” Finn said.

“It’s okay,” Leo breathed. He was deep in Logan and still as he waited for Finn. “I’m ready, Harzy, I’ll tell you how to go.”

Finn put a hand on Leo’s shoulder, lining up again and pressing forward this time. He only got his head in before he had to stop, mouth open at the impossible heat.

“Huh,” Finn gasped, forehead dropping to Leo’s shoulder. He clenched his jaw, willing himself not to come on the spot. “Fuck, baby, you feel…”

“So good,” Logan whispered, arms flung over his head on the bed.

Finn pressed his hips forward again, and it was a smooth glide until he was plastered along Leo’s back. Without pulling out, he fucked in, and both boys below him moaned.

“Harzy,” Logan said, eyes flashing open.

It was not good for Finn’s stamina to realize that whatever he did to Leo, Logan felt also. To realize that this could happen again a million and one times, that he would wake up tomorrow with them, kiss them good morning, play hockey beside them, go out to dinner with them, spend the summer with them, win the cup with them. Every fucking day was theirs.

Finn rested his lips between Leo’s shoulder blades and pulled out before pushing back in with more force. He set the pace quick, punching sounds out of Leo as he did which Logan responded to. They panted his name, kissed each other. Leo grabbed for his hip, pulling him in harder. Finn already knew he was deliriously addicted to this feeling. To them.

Logan, taking the blunt weight of both of their thrusts, had gone silent. His back was arched up against the bed, nails digging into Leo’s broad back, muscles strained. Finn wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Finn reached around him to grip Logan’s hips instead and pushed forward sloppily now. He flicked his hair out of his eyes, damp with sweat now. Every part of him was on fire, and he was so hard it hurt, but he wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. He fucked into Leo one more time and held there, covering himself over Leo’s back.

“Finn,” Leo cried hoarsely when Finn started circling his hips. “Ah—”

Finn pressed in a few more times before leaning back with a last kiss to Leo’s spine.

“Shift change, boys,” he panted, and sat up, pulling carefully out of Leo with a moan. “Logan, be center.”

“No hockey metaphors,” Leo groaned, still pliant and buried in Logan, who looked fucking blissed out against the sheets. “Not in bed.”

Leo’s shot voice warmed Finn all over, and he pushed his hair back and stared down at his red cock, shiny with lube and drooling a sticky string of precome onto his bedspread. He wanted to touch himself so bad that his palms itched with it, but he didn’t dare.

“I want to fuck both my boys,” Finn smoothed his hands over Leo’s ass appreciatively.

“I’m—” Logan’s voice cracked. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Finn huffed out a laugh, pressing a trail of kisses over Leo’s spine. “Believe me, I’m gonna lose it soon, too.” There was just so much to be kissed. Of both of them.

Logan finally cracked his eyes open. His pupils were blown wide. “I don’t know if soon is the word for me.”

Finn tilted his head, Leo seeming too, also. Leo sat up, back into Finn’s chest, and Finn’s mouth went dry. Logan was a mess, a pool of come tacky on his stomach, chest breathing hard.

“Oh, Lo. Baby,” Finn pressed his hand forward, cock wedged between himself and Leo, and trailed a finger in the mess. “You already…?”

“Twice,” Logan mumbled. His cock was soft and spent on his stomach. “I think. It feels like forever. Fuck.”

“God,” Leo moaned, his cock big and hanging between his thighs. “Just silently having a good time down there, huh?”

Logan groaned, sounding more pained now. He reached down and pressed a palm over himself. “I’m still so fucking horny—” he didn’t finish, but as Finn watched, Logan’s cock twitched against his stomach.

“You fucking magician,” Finn said. “It’s been what, twenty? Fifteen?”

Leo shook his head. Finn reached around and cradled Leo’s cock against his stomach and Leo’s hips jerked like he could help it. “No idea.”

Finn felt like it was the three of them in the entire world.

“Let’s do it,” Leo sighed happily and turned to the side to press a sloppy kiss to Finn’s mouth before flopping on his back beside Logan.

Finn stared. “You really are just…a fucking giant.” He glanced at Logan’s smaller frame, and his entire body warmed. Finn briefly contemplated asking to just watch them get off, before he remembered Logan was waiting for him.

“I can’t move,” Logan groaned, even as he pushed himself up and right into Finn’s lap for a sloppy, hot kiss.

Finn gathered him against his chest, cock nudging against Logan’s hole, smearing the wetness. He was going to come so fucking hard.

“Hi, Lo, baby,” Finn said softly.

Logan just wrapped his arms around Finn’s neck while Leo sat up and pressed up against Logan’s back. Leo and Finn smiled at each other over Logan’s shoulder and kissed lazily while Logan rutted against Finn’s abs, cock beginning to fatten up again.

Logan was only partially hard when he gave Finn’s cheek a little pat. “I’m gonna fuck Nut now.” He tangled his hands in Finn’s sweaty hair. The kiss was messy, more biting teeth than not. Logan’s fire simmered under Finn’s skin.

“This is so good,” Leo groaned and flopped back against the bed again. “What the hell, it’s like—sixteen year old me’s wet dream.”

Finn blinked at that image. A younger Leo, looking up to them, and— “Oh.”

Logan laughed and turned out of Finn’s arms to clamber over Leo’s long, lean body.

“Es-tu prêt, mon coeur?” Logan mumbled, as he pressed gentle kisses to Leo’s mouth, his cheeks. “Je suis très exité pour toi…”

Leo reached between them with a sigh, letting his legs spread obscenely for Logan.

“Get hard,” Leo said. “Get hard inside me.”

“Jesus,” Finn said.

“Finn,” Logan’s voice was breathy, and Finn was there in a moment, pulling Logan up to lean back against his chest and taking his still mostly soft, sensitive member in his hand. The skin was incredibly soft, and there was something vulnerable and gentle about holding Logan when he was like this. Finn couldn’t resist kissing his shoulder blade, and pressing his palm over Logan’s pounding heart. He loved him. Wildly.

“Okay?” Finn asked. He snagged the lube again, even though Logan was pretty slick, and squeezed a bit onto his fingers before stroking Logan’s cock gently.

“Yeah,” Logan gasped, and let Finn guide his hips forward, nudging against Leo’s entrance.

Leo was watching, too, propped on Finn’s many pillows, his heels pressing into the mattress and his hands cupping his cock, one working the shaft while the other thumbed down over his balls near where Logan’s cock was pushing in.

Finn traced his thumb there, too, his own cock throbbing with ever brush against Logan’s back. Logan was breathing hard, his hips working in circles against Leo’s.

“How is it, peanut butter?” Finn asked.

Leo’s mouth was open, chin tilted up against the pillows. His hands had stilled. “Fuck, he’s getting hard. Yeah, Tremz…”

Logan moaned and pushed forward, hands on either side of Leo’s chest so that he could rut into him harder, muscles flexing. Leo’s long arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and Finn could only watch, hands smoothing over Logan’s back. His cock was tight against his stomach, and he wanted them both so badly, he could hardly think. He pressed his thumb against Logan’s entrance, already prepped and waiting. He lined himself up and pushed the swollen head of his cock inside. He clutched at Logan’s hip, breathing in. Logan had stilled as Finn pushed in, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt. Finn hung his head, breathing hard, and then pulled back slowly to snap his hips forward again. It punched a glorious sound out of Logan, and then Leo, who absorbed the thrust, too. Finn picked up a pace, faster than he had been with Leo, getting used to this, to loving a partner so much he was dizzy with it. He watched Leo’s face, screwed up in pleasure, as Logan mumbling to him in French, the soft syllables running together with his uneven breathing as he was caught between sinking his cock into Leo, and pressing back against Finn’s. Finn looked down at Logan’s broad back, every muscle taught, and thought about how long they’d been waiting for this. How long he’d wanted Logan. How he hadn’t even thought to start waiting for Leo until he was there, with his kind eyes and sharp wit, pressing their shoulders together on the couch and then, while Logan was away, sucking Finn’s cock down into the wet heat of his mouth.

Finn moaned, fucking in harder. Logan cried out as it pressed him deeper into Leo.

Logan was fully hard now, cock sensitive and aching. He’d never come this much in his life, except maybe when he first discovered that it was a thing. He felt pinned, delirious with the heat of the two boys on either side of him. Leo was a vice around him, Finn a hard weight behind him, within him. He didn’t know what he wanted more, to fuck shamelessly into Leo, or fuck himself on Finn.

“Closer, Harz,” he gasped.

Leo cried out, one hand flying back to grip the headboard with Logan’s thrusts, and with the new leverage, Logan had that much more control. Nothing filled the room except the sound of skin slapping on skin and their breathing. Logan, despite feeling like he was half out of his mind with pleasure, had never felt so at peace. He felt safe with his lips against Leo’s throat, Finn’s at the back of his neck. Finn and Leo had their hands laced together, and the sight of them all connected made Logan feel like he was going to come all over again.

“I’m gonna—” Logan gasped, and pressed his forehead against Leo’s chest, pumping his cock into Leo faster.

Finn pressed closer behind Logan, so close that soon Logan could only pant, open mouthed, and grind into Leo with the small space he had as Finn fucked him in hard, deep strokes. Finn grabbed his hips, hitching himself closer, and the angle changed and—

“Ah,” Logan’s voice broke, his cock pulsing against Leo’s tight walls as Finn grazed his prostate. “Finn. Finn.”

“Yeah, baby? There?”

Logan wanted to find that spot for Leo. He wanted to do everything for both of them. Both of Leo’s hands were curled around the headboard now, long torso arching upward as he pressed himself onto Logan’s cock. Logan angled upwards, and Leo stilled, mouth falling open.

“Lo—” Leo’s voice was strained, forearm muscles straining out. “Please.”

“I’m gonna come,” Finn half mumbled into Logan’s skin. “Lo—”

“Yeah, Harzy,” Logan gasped as he felt Finn grow heavier inside him.

Finn’s breathing turned harsh, his thrusts uneven and short, until he shoved all the way inside and stilled. Logan could feel him, pulsing, coming. It was warm and Logan could barely breathe with how hard he was. It trapped him inside Leo. Finn kept coming and coming.

“Finn, oh god, mon—“ Logan gasped as Finn whined, long and low as his cock pulsed inside of Logan. My love my love my love.

Finally, Finn seemed to breathe again, and Logan blinked down at Leo, who looked dazed with Logan’s hard cock, unmoving and aching inside of him still. Leo’s own cock was weeping, a vein tracing up one side, head fat, balls heavy. Logan wanted to have that in his mouth some time.

Finn pulled out shakily. He sighed, and stretched out beside them, pressing along Leo’s leg and side. He had a lazy smile on his face, hair sweaty. He was sort of glowing, and Logan and Leo couldn’t look away.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he breathed and pressed a warm palm over the soft skin of Leo’s inner thigh. “You two…”

Logan cursed and hauled his knees up beneath him, wrapping his hands around Leo’s hips and fucking forward again. Leo was pliant with it, knuckles white against the dark headboard. Logan fucked him once, twice, and Leo’s cock bobbed against his stomach before come streamed out of it across his chest, untouched.

“Oh,” Finn said, and reached forward for him, fingers pale and long around Leo as he stroked him through his orgasm. Leo was loud, grinding himself against Logan’s cock which felt so close to the edge it nearly hurt with how good it was. Logan felt like he had been coming forever, but he still needed—

“Yes, yes,” Leo was chanting, their names spilling out as Finn didn’t let up and Logan let him grind down. When he stilled, he was flushed from his cheeks to his lovely collarbones, a gorgeous mess. His blond curls were dark on his forehead and he opened his eyes sleepily. Logan was doing everything he could not to move, he was probably sensitive, and focused on stroking his hands over Leo’s hips instead, trying to sooth the tight muscles. He pulled out haltingly, cock streaming steadily.

“Lo,” Finn groaned, and reached down to palm his cock which was stiffening again. “Fuck, are you like this all the time? I’m going to die? Tell us what we can do.”

“I know what we can do.”

Leo grinned and leaned forward for a kiss, before pushing Logan onto his back. “I promised him something earlier.”

Logan barely had time to breathe before Leo’s mouth was swallowing him down. Logan’s hands flew to Leo’s hair, he arched up into the heat.

“Leo, Leo, Leo, I’m—coming—“

Logan could feel an almost unbearable, sensitive pressure building, his toes curling against Leo’s thighs, Finn’s hand in his hair, before it broke. It seemed to drain everything from him, he didn’t know what sounds he made, didn’t know which way was up. Leo sucked him through it, insistent and soft, down to the hilt until Logan whined at the pressure, until it was too much.

Logan opened his eyes, and a moan from his left drew his eyes just in time to see Finn come again from Leo’s hand and collapse back against the mattress. It was quiet, after everything, the three of them in a tangle of limbs, breathing.

Logan huffed out a laugh. “Fuck.”

Leo smiled, too, settling himself down over Logan and tucking his face into his neck. Logan loved it, he loved the weight of them in bed with him. Finn rolled until he was pressed against their sides, a leg thrown over Leo’s calves.

“Boys,” Finn’s voice cracked horribly and they snorted, the feeling of each other laughing only making them laugh harder.

Logan ran a hand up Finn’s back, turning his head to press his lips to his temple.

“I was just going to say that I…” Finn trailed off. “You’re my…”

None of them really needed him to finish though. Leo felt heavier against Logan, like he was falling asleep.

“We should clean up,” Logan said half-heartedly, although he really didn’t want to move. He was pleasantly sore, pleasantly floaty, with Leo weighing him down and Finn’s mouth trailing along his neck, kissing along the leather band of his necklace.

“I’ll go,” Finn said hurriedly, and all but trotted to the restroom.

“I could have done that, Harz,” Leo mumbled when he returned, then added, with a smile, “You did do most of the work.”

Finn bit his lip as he carefully rolled Leo onto his back beside Logan, washcloth soft against their stomachs and cocks. He shrugged a shoulder.

“No, I…I like this part. I like working, I like…” he flushed and cleared his throat. “I like giving you guys what you want, you know? What you deserve. You deserve to feel good. It makes me happy.”

Logan’s heart gave a painful tug at that. Finn. It made sense. Finn, even in his own chaotic way, had always done things like that for Logan. Coffee pick-ups, giving him his sweatshirt when it was cold on the bus and he had packed his. Coming to every call of Logan’s, even when Logan had been less than thankless for it.

Finn sent him a lopsided smile as he finished and tossed the washcloth, but evidently saw something in Logan’s expression because he tilted his head.

“You deserve that, too,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Leo nodded, and Logan rolled onto his side to tuck himself along Leo’s lean body, smiling at Finn. Leo fingers drew absentmindedly on Logan’s bare back and Logan propped himself on his elbow, looking down at him. He smiled into a quick kiss, and brushed the white-gray tuft of hair back from Leo’s temple.

“Oh, yeah, Leo’s gonna take us on his boat,” Finn said, his hands caressing one thigh each.

Leo laughed loudly, and Finn climbed over him, peppering kisses up his chest before reaching his mouth.

“Right, peanut?”

Leo’s face grew thoughtful for a second, maybe even a little wistful. “Yeah, I’d…I’d love to take you guys home.”

“Summer,” Logan said, fingers moving to the back of Finn’s neck, just touching. Both of them leaned into it, wherever his hands were, and he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the feeling.

“Not too soon,” Leo grinned.

“Knock on wood,” Finn reached up and knocked on Logan’s head. Logan shoved him, and Finn just laughed, lunging forward to tackle Logan back against the bed.

“Whoa, whoa,” Logan gasped, laughing and clinging to Finn’s back. “We’re gonna fall—”

Finn grabbed at the blankets, his other hand keeping Logan close, and Leo grabbed both of them, rolling them away from the edge.

“Jesus Christ,” Leo laughed, staring at the two of them before rolling away to stand. Logan watched, knowing Finn was doing the same from where his cheek was on his chest, as Leo stretched up, his back popping, everything on display from his long torso, to his soft cock. “I’m gonna get us some water, okay? Try not to fall off the bed.”

“No promises,” Logan said, as Leo disappeared down the hall, but not before brushing his fingers through Logan’s hair. Logan was looking after him when a gentle kiss against his throat pulled his attention to Finn.

“I love it when you laugh like that,” Finn whispered, brushing their noses together. He was pressed against Logan’s chest, arms doing nothing to support his weight. Logan never wanted him to move.

Logan touched his fingers to a few of Finn’s more prominent freckles across his cheeks.

“I love you,” Logan whispered back.

Finn’s smile was the one Logan saw in his sleep, the one that his mind conjured up with every thought of him. “Love you.”

“We’re gonna love him, aren’t we,” Logan said. It was no question.

Finn nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

Leo woke up slowly, feeling like he had sunk away from the world. It was like the feeling of sun beating down on his back while he lay out on the dock at home. Except it covered his entire being, and didn’t fade with the wind. Two suns were cradling him between them.

Leo opened his eyes and brought his hand up slowly beneath the covers to cradle the back of Finn’s head. Finn’s even breathing was hot against his neck, Logan’s between his shoulder blades. He felt more than a little groggy, like he had been sleeping for years and years, so deeply that it washed away slowly. He wondered if he’d always sleep this well with these two.

Leo smiled to himself, eyes closing again. They had no where to be today. They could stay like this, if they wanted to, but Leo also liked the idea of going out to brunch, maybe squeezed into a booth at the cute pancake place down the street. Or he could make them pancakes. Logan liked ham, Finn liked sausage, he could just run to Whole Foods and be back—

Leo heard Finn take a long breath in, and the freeze. He felt the light tickle of him blinking his eyes open, and grinned. Leo pet his fingers through Finn’s hair a few times before turning his head down to press a kiss to his forehead. Finn looked up at him, one eye closed still, before his face relaxed and he closed his eyes again, smiling.

Leo laughed softly and leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“Hm,” Finn said, leaning up into the kiss. “Morning.”

Leo smiled. Finn picked his head up a little, peaking over Leo’s shoulder at Logan.

“You’re covered in drool, just so you know,” he whispered.

Leo laughed, and the motion drew a sound out of Logan, whose head appeared a second later over Leo’s shoulder, hair an absolute mess.

“Wha’s wrong?” Logan said, voice low from sleep.

“Nothing, babe,” Finn said. “We’re just talking about your drool.”

Logan grumbled before promptly starting to crawl over Leo.

“Hey,” Finn began to protest.

“I’m the shortest, I get to be in the middle.”

Leo laughed. “Did you just admit—”

Logan shushed him as he wedged his body between them.

“C’est chaud ici,” Logan sighed contently, burrowing farther beneath the quilt and pushing his cold nose into Leo’s chest. “Fish, closer.”

Finn snorted but complied, all but squeezing Logan between them with a leg over their hips. Logan didn’t seem to mind.

They rested like that, quiet and dozing. Leo sort of wanted breakfast, but he also sort of never wanted to leave. Logan was asleep again, lips parted and chin tilted up between them. Finn looked halfway there, cheek in Logan’s curls. Leo let himself sink back into the pillows, the sunlight heat of the two boys holding him close, and closed his eyes. They had time.

[lovieebby]

Baby’s Day

Victorian Era!Daddy!Henry Cavill x Little!Reader AU

Summary: Henry takes a day off, which surprises Judy. But you’re not complaining.

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+ !!! Smut smut smut !! vaginal penetration, daddy kink, kinda little reader, mention of cum & fucking filth

Note: This is from @pinksdaydream and I’s concepts of Vic!Daddy!Henry x Little!Reader (inspo from those Sherlock pics of Henry) and I had to write some smut for them bc I need y’all to know my need for vic Hen 😩 Please enjoy and if you like it, let me and Meda know!! We love this shit! Oof and Judy is Readers babysitter!

Judy was surprised when she opened her door and you weren’t standing eagerly on the other side. You were such an early bird where you always met Judy at her door as Henry got ready for work.

Judy decided to gather up her skirts and walk up the long staircase, her heels clicking urgently as she walked. She couldn’t pinpoint on why she felt anxious that you didn’t greet her at her bedroom door. Her mind sped through multiple scenarios a million miles a minute.

Have you fallen ill? Have you been grounded to your room? Have you—

Judy’s thoughts came to a halt as she neared the thick wooden door, her face flushed at your blissed whimpers. She stilled a few feet away from the door and prayed you weren’t pleasuring yourself. She hadn’t had to reprimand you for that quite yet, and she was hoping it wasn’t now in the moment.

As her knuckles came inches away from the wood she stilled once again and flushed hotter as she heard matched groans from Henry.

“That’s it, you like that don’t you my pet?” Henry’s muffled voice shot through the door, grunts and skin slapping echoing out underneath the door.

“Y-yes si-sir!”

Judy’s lips sucked into her mouth as her eyes widened in embarrassment when she heard the synchronized moans. She swiftly grabbed her skirts once again and trotted down the stairs, this time making sure they were more quiet to not disrupt the love making.

Henry had purposely taken a sick day to focus entirely on you and your needs. He had felt guilty for working so much to where his touch felt foreign to you, he loathed it, making him angered with himself. Henry wanted to remind you of his undying love anyway he could, whether it was sleeping in with you or keeping you all to himself.

Henry’s goal was the latter.

At first he started slow, rubbing your skin lovingly, kissing you awake and whispering sweet words into the quiet air. When you fully awoke, his gentleness turned into a need to have you withering beneath him, his cock leaving you unable to walk.

You lost track of how many orgasms you’ve given him, his cock was the only thing you could focus on. His eyelids fluttered closed for a short moment while he shushed your moans with his hand, his jaw clenched tight as he grumbled out a spew of curses.

You mewled his name, short breaths leaving your nose roughly as Henry thrusted up into your heated cunt. Your walls fluttered violently as the familiar pressure of your upcoming release made itself known.

“Daddy please! I have to cum again!” You whined out around his palm, back arching into his chest as his breathing deepened over you.

One of your hands was attempting to keep you still as it was placed flat on the padded headboard, the other clenched around Henry’s wrist. He left out a groan, his chest heaving in shakes as he watched you

“Let me feel it baby, come on! Do it for daddy.” He grunted loudly, his thrusts hard, creating loud slaps in the air from your spread thighs and his.

Your cunt made lewd noises as he pushed and pulled from you. Your legs shook as Henry picked them up and put them over his shoulders, only to push further into your cervix. You let out a drawn scream as you felt your release pour from your puffed folds, soaking yourself and Henry.

“Yes yes yes! Such a good fucking girl.” Henry chanted through his teeth, groaning out a growl as his eyes closed in a roll.

He took his hand off your heated mouth and roughly grabbed your hips with both on his hands and tilted them up higher to his. Henry soon came with a grunt, his hips stilling as his cock pressed sweetly into your cervix.

You feel your belly swell just a touch as his cum paints your walls, making you let out a strangled mewl. Henry breathed in the smell of your mixed sweat and releases, the scent made him bite his lip with a deep growl. He watched your damp skin shake and struggle to breath clearly.

“Now, what do you say to daddy when he fills you up? Hmm?” Henry pants out, his curls crazed on top of his head, some sticking to his temples with sweat. He leans back and gives you a triumphant smile while his eyes graze over your fucked out body, his tongue licking his teeth as you wither on his still hard cock.

“Th-thank you daddy.” You spoke out above a whisper, your hands searching for his as your breath catches in your throat.

Henry intertwined his fingers with yours as he gave you a gentle kiss on your heated forehead. He gives you one last thrust before he slowly pulls out of your fluttering pussy, a groan matching your hissed whine.

“Come on my love, we need to get something in that belly and not just my seed.” He grumbled into your skin, pulling your legs down as he straightened his back to sit up. “We’ll cuddle later, I promise sweet baby.”

You whine out when you stretch your aching legs, watching the once red marks on your hips turn to an angry bruise. You rubbed the tender spot while Henry got off the bed and went to the splayed clothing littered around the floor, searching for something, not ruined preferably, to wear.

You gasped when you sat up and met your reflection in the mirror. “You were rough with me daddy.”

Dark bruises from Henry’s suckling kisses formed around your throat and down your chest, some slightly smaller than the rest. You trailed your fingers around them in awe. You weren’t mad by any means, you found them pretty and erotic as they met the early morning light peeking through the slits of the curtains.

Henry let out a chuckle, “I’m sorry pet, I’ve just missed you so much.” He said, coming in between your legs with a shirt, his shirt to be exact, but yours nonetheless.

You hummed with a soft smile. You raised your arms when Henry tilted his head up in a silent command to do so, he slipped it on you and pulled the ends of your hair teasingly once your head poked through the neckline. As Henry busied himself with his clothing, you stood up and walked to the door, turning around when Henry tisked at you.

“Ah ah! Hold on little pet.” Henry stilled you as he squatted down to the backs of your knees with a cloth.

You looked down and let out a giggle as you saw the mixed cum trail down your thighs.

“You’re making a mess.” He sighed, a smirk pulling at his lips. He cleaned you up quickly and threw the small cloth to the floor, kissing up your abused skin as he stood up behind you.

You opened the door and walked to the stairs with Henry behind you. The home was eerily quiet, making you slightly nervous that everyone might have heard you and your daddy’s moans and the bed slamming on the wall. You stood at the railing and leaned over slightly to see if anyone was around the corner of the front entrance.

Henry followed your gaze with a frown, it soon turned into an amusing smirk. “If they heard, they heard. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

You snapped your head to him as he shrugged, a mortified look painted your features while his in pure cockiness. Henry laughed and petted your cheek, his thumb rubbing your cheek bone and pinching the skin before he pulled away.

As Henry made his way down the stairs, he stopped at the middle stair and saw you still standing at the top. You nervously played with the hem of the shirt, cautious of who was up and who would have heard you. He raised a brow and waved his fingers for you to follow, you reluctantly followed the command and curled your arms around his bicep.

Tags: @hell1129-blog @snowbellexx @summersong69 @kaizet @omgkatinka @hinata7346 @thethirstyarchive @mary-ann84 @agniavateira @shaybabbby @oddsnendsfanfics @cavillshmavill @vivodinson @radaofrivia @iloveyouyen @jessevans @pinksdaydream @ollyoxenfrees @woofgocows @captaingothgirl1996 @honeychicana @viking-raider @seb-owns-these-tatas

If you want to be added/removed lemme know! Feedback is always welcomed, love you lots and be nice to yourself my bbies ;))

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

content creator year in review

I was tagged by the ever-delightful @j-pping to do this and I am so touched this is a lovely thing to do :c Thank you so much darling! <3 first creation and most recent creation of 2020: First creation was... according to my archives, I posted the second chapter of Allotrope on New Year’s Day. Most recent creation was...the Allotrope Christmas Special. one of your favorite creations from 2020: Oh! I really, really loved the Robinhood AU I wrote for @guardians-of-exo based on her moodboard way back some months ago! It has since been removed and launched me into wanting to write an interwoven AU based in Medieval era with her, so embarking on that adventure has been really fun and adventurous! a creation you’re really proud of: Hm, literally without turning this into a gush-fest about Allotrope, I’d say... the universe of our collab series, An Adventurer’s Guide to Romance. It might not seem like it but making nine timelines connect and overlap is hard. It only gets harder to entertain and write something new and fun without getting repetitive- especially when writing the same situation from another character’s perspective. I’m proud of how well it has gone so far and I can guarantee to you that’s why it takes so long to write each one after the next- I have to go back and reread and follow timelines and stuff to make sure I’m at the correct point in time of the story! a new style you tried this year and a gifset/fic that uses it: Uhh... I don’t have anything like that. I suppose you could say for style, that would be the series mentioned above that I collab on with @guardians-of-exo. I had read the entirety of Welcome to the Exodus Mall, an amazing and brilliantly colorful series by a writer I admire, @yehet-me-up. I was so blown away by the way she weaves everything together and felt inspired to write something in that fun kind of interwoven space because how freaking cool is a bunch of backstory and from characters you love when their arc is over??? a creation that took you forever: Ohoho, does it count if it is not over...? I have four creations that have been WIPs all year. One is Heat Seekers, a Chanyeol x f.reader set in a futuristic/dystopian AU, a really super personal piece for Yoongi called Desiderium, a fluffy and domestic Baekhyun piece that I can only write when I am in a very specific and soft mood, and lastly is my multi-chaptered Namjoon x f.reader Magic AU, Moonchild (which will probably get a rewrite). your creation that received the most notes this year: Without a doubt that would be Allotrope chapter 2, with 280 notes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for every single one, but I would probably be a lot more discouraged by the perpetual decrease in notes as the story progressed if I didn’t absolutely find this story loving and wonderful and if I were not at peace being proud how honored I am to have been able to write it for Junmyeon. a creation you think deserved more notes: This is a cringe-worthy question. But I suppose, if I could wish for it, it would have been that the Allotrope chapter 7 would have received a bit more notes. NOT for the fact that I feel like it wasn’t well-loved, but the anxiety in me wants to make sure it was seen by the people who care to have read it through and I feel like its current count isn’t accurate enough to reflect that wish. I want people to know how the couple ended the story. Really, I know the two biggest fans of it, @jenmyeons and @kyungseokie read it more than once (I love you both thank you so much always), and that they love it so much. I just want to be sure everyone who ever gave me support and liked this story has had a chance to read its ending. <3 a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: ASLKDHALSLKFG Stray Kids because Changbin and Chan choose violence daily, but I haven’t had a chance to write anything for it yet. Although, I’ve had plenty of time to read things for them and lemme just say, bless you Skz fanfic writers. MVPs, all of them. Perhaps one day when I can’t contain myself anymore I’ll write something, ha! a creation you made that breaks your heart: Without a doubt, Allotrope. Breaks it down into tiny pieces and builds it back together again over and over. Also more recent, the quick and dirty Estiferous, all because of its cause for inspiration that was the fake scandal that dragged Chanyeol through the mud. dearest @saebyeog-i and I were in a fucking FIT. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written but it was still heartbreaking to thinking about it and then to write it. JUST LOVE HIM. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: THIS IS EASY- Ameliorate! This sweet domestic fluff fic I wrote for @kyungseokie when she was not quite feeling so well and I had just finished writing Saccharine for AAGTR after watching 100 Days My Prince so I was hella in my Ksoo feels. a creation that was inspired by another one: This one isn’t writing lmao, it’s this portrait drawing I did of Chanyeol, which was inspired by his photos for 1 Billion Views, so technically inspired by another work, just, still not of the writing variety. a favorite creation made by someone else: Ooh for sure there are several, even if not written this year! Welcome to the Exodus Mall series by @yehet-me-up as mentioned above, Fortune Favors the Brave and Meminerunt Omnia Amantes by @j-pping,  The War by @guardians-of-exo. Bitter Brews by @saebyeog-i (I love you and like it’s your fault, even without this adorable story, that I have a big fat crush on Johnny). Transference by @dark-muse-iris that I scream about whenever I can, Void and other works (like Gwanghae Flow) by @btssavedmylifeblr, literally anything and everything (but especially Light Sakura) by @yeoldontknow, I’ll be Yours by @jiminbbyboy The Rich Man’s Crochet Club by @kpopfanfictrash along with every other work she’s written. Sweeter Than Sweet by @gimmesumsuga, Wanted (and Tentacledipity of the same AU) by @jincherie, and all things written by @jenmyeons (but extra love for Fine Dining Chanyeol and The Dating Problem Junmyeon, omg.) and @kyungseokie (especially Dichotomy and the following Car Je T’aime and Clair de Lune (I am a sucker for her Baekhyun okay T~T)). literally so many others, oof. some of your favorite content creators of the year: See above. uwu Enjoy the last few days of 2020 and ring in a safe, healthy and happy New Year for 2021, everyone. Love you! <3

[caffeinatedtimdrake]

40, 17, and 53 with Jason Todd. Love you!!! You deserve way more than 200 followers.

love YOU!!! sorry this is so late! 1.6k words of Jason x reader fluff in which you’re stuck in an elevator. 

17.“Did you just… agree with me?” “Oh, I wish I could take-““Nope! You said it! No take-backs!”

40.“You’re a psychopath.” “I prefer creative.”

53.“I hate you.” “Why? I’m lovely.”

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t such a wise idea to take the elevator during a raging storm, but you could only be so functional after a three-hour British literature final exam. 

Massaging the palm of your hand and gnawing anxiously on your bottom lip, agonizing over your concluding paragraph, you hit the down button with your elbow and had barely half a mind to acknowledge the torrential downpour outside the walls of Gotham Academy. 

The elevator dinged dismally and you trudged inside. 

Wordsworth said to fill your paper with the breathings of your heart but you couldn’t stop worrying that you dumped the jumbled thoughts of your mind onto the lined pages. You were fretting so intensely that you barely heard the pleas to keep the elevator door open. 

“Wait! I need to catch the elevator! Pretty please!” 

You startled and moved to press the open button, but a body barreled in through the doors and hit the wall with a slightly concerning bang before you could do so. 

The figure was broad and sinewy from behind, a backpack hanging off toned shoulders and veiny arms showcased thanks to a snug black t-shirt. Something about that admittedly nice butt was awfully familiar, and then the human canon turned around. 

“Oh. Hey, Y/N.” 

You stiffened and braced yourself, though you were unsure what you were bracing yourself for. “Hi, Jason.” 

He cracked a smile, slow and warm, and your heart skipped several beats before settling into a panicky rhythm. 

Oh. That was why you braced yourself. 

He quirked an eyebrow and nodded to your hands. The fingers of your left dug into the palm of your right so hard, your knuckles turned white. “Still recovering?” 

You dropped your hands. “In more ways than one.” 

Something about Jason always had you on edge. You two were notorious for getting into heated debates regarding humanist theory and the best Romantic era poets, and you’d nearly lost your mind when you worked together because the professor assigned partners for a literature analysis presentation – he pushed your buttons excessively. 

Maybe it was because he was so hard to read, but he was able to read you with startling clarity. You didn’t know much about him, only that he was a few years older, enjoyed blasting Bobby Brown, had strong opinions on bread, and knew Keats better than his own name. You had known him for four months, but he already knew that you despised untied shoelaces, snapped a rubber band against your wrist when you were nervous, and owned two cats. Your guard was highly fortified because people who’d known you for years barely knew one of those tidbits; who did Jason think he was, waltzing into your life and making you self-conscious every time you exhibited a nervous tick?

Your unease around Jason Todd might also have to do with the fact that he was so beautiful, he left you flustered and babbling angrily much more often than you’d like. 

“How’d you feel about it?” 

“About…what?” 

Jason laughed and you blinked in surprise at the sound of sunshine on this rainy day. “About the exam, Y/N.”

“Oh. Uh. I wish I felt better about it. You?” 

His shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. “I’ve been through worse.” 

“Who’d you focus on for the last question?” You asked as the doors glided shut with a groan. 

He snorted. “Coleridge, of course. Who else?”

You frowned. “Barrett Browning.” 

He shot you a dubious look. “Is it because of Sonnet Forty-Three?” 

Flummoxed, your frown deepened. “No…” 

“Mmhhmmm,” He nodded, mouth sliding up into a playful smile. 

“Well. Maybe a little.” 

“Quite the hopeless romantic, aren’t we?”

You opened your mouth to retort defensively but betrayed yourself; you locked eyes with him and suddenly found yourself lost in a sapphire ocean. “Yeah,” You sighed in resignation. 

His eyes widened, eyebrows raised in bewilderment. “Did you just…agree with me?” 

You blushed deeper. “Oh, I wish I could take –”

Jason waggled a finger accusatorially. “Nope! You said it! No take-backs!” 

You jutted your chin out and crossed your arms over your chest. Maybe you should have been concerned when the elevator groaned a little in dissent, but you couldn’t hear much above the little voice at the back of your head scolding you for not being more vigilant around him. 

“Fine.” 

His smile softened, gentle like the Caribbean, and much to your dismay, so did you. “It’s not a bad thing.” 

“I-I guess. I don’t know.” 

You did know when the lights flickered and died with a buzz and a few concerning sparks. 

You also knew when the elevator jolted and dropped a few feet, bouncing unevenly because it pulled a shriek from your throat, and you flung yourself at Jason Todd. 

He stumbled back a little with an “oof” but didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. 

He smelled of jasmine and old books and some kind of spice. You were in the middle of a third deep inhale, safe in his arms, when the elevator groaned again, reminding you where you were. You wrenched yourself out of his embrace and slammed against the wall opposite of him with a jolt, pressing the help button frantically – but to no avail, it looked like the whole array was shot.

The elevator made another agonized noise and panic seized your lungs. 

“Well. I think the elevator’s stuck.” 

“It still m-moves. What if – what if it falls all the way d-down? We’re gonna – oh, fuck, we’re gonna die in here, aren’t we?” You warbled, slowly sliding to the ground. 

Jason’s brow furrowed, shadows dancing against his skin beneath the dim emergency light. “We’re not going to die in here, Y/N.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut when thunder rumbled irately, practically shaking the walls. “You can’t guarantee that.” 

“We’re probably not going to die in here.” He simpered, taking steady strides over to you and the buttons. 

You had to choke back whimper when the elevator tilted slightly. 

You heard him shifting slightly, setting his backpack on the ground and kneeling next to it. 

His knee bumped your knee and your eyes snapped open, but he continued shuffling around in his bag, unbothered by the physical contact. 

You didn’t want to die before you could find out who scored higher on that exam, but you refrained from voicing this aloud. For the moment. 

“So, you’re scared of centipedes and dying in an elevator. What else?” He asked in a low voice. 

In spite of the slightly dire situation, you flushed, reminded of the unfortunate insect incident in the library a few weeks ago. 

The answer left your mouth before you could swallow it. “You.” 

You were unsure of how serious that response was and maybe he was too, because the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Me? I’m harmless.”

As these words left his mouth, he unearthed a daunting piece of technical equipment from his backpack. 

You wanted to tell him that he was actually quite harmful to your emotional stability, but instead you asked, “What the hell is that?” 

His smirk grew into something even more dangerous, setting your heartbeat awry again. “Our way out.” He pressed a button and what might be a laser flashed and buzzed menacingly. 

“You’re a psychopath.” 

“I prefer creative.” Jason told you cheerily, turning away from you to wiggle the suspicious tool beneath a panel near the bottom row of buttons. 

There were some more unsettling buzzing noises, but he must have known what he was doing because several moments later, all of the lights blink on. 

He pressed the help button with his knuckle, and it rang shrilly in acknowledgement. 

“Now, we wait.” He scooted back a little so he could sit in front of you, cross-legged and almost boyish in the way he looked at you expectantly, more like a patient puppy than a muscly twenty-something with threatening equipment and novels in his backpack. 

You felt your face heat up again. “Oh. Great.” 

He leaned forward a little, one dark brown arched in inquisition. “Are you really scared of me?” 

Your stomach flipped a little because he was striking up close, pink mouth and strong nose framed by handsome angles, earthy olive skin littered with storybook scars, and eyes that whispered the most tragic of poems in a language you couldn’t quite understand. 

“I’m trying to figure it out.” 

“You must not be completely petrified because you seem quite calm, considering we’re in a confined space together. Also, you threw yourself at me.” 

You gaped at him indignantly. “I hate you.” 

“Why? I’m lovely. At least three different people tell me on a daily basis.” 

It was your turn to arch an eyebrow. “By people do you mean drooling college girls?” 

That smirk returned. “Old ladies crossing the street and soccer moms occasionally, too.” 

You crinkled your nose in distaste. “Bleh.” 

“Beauty is meant to be appreciated.” Jason stated, fixing you with a look of saccharine reverence that made you think, perhaps, he wasn’t referring to himself through the eyes of appreciative grown women. 

Bashful, you broke away from his gaze, finding sudden interest in your sweaty hands and playing with your fingers. 

“That’s why poets exist.” You muttered. 

“Shakespeare, sonnet eighteen.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Now, his smile was all sunflowers and chirping birds on a summer morning. “It means you’re beautiful and I want to compare you to a summer’s day. And take you on a date when we get out of this elevator. If you’ll let me.” 

It took a few moments to shake you out of your daze. “If we can get out of this elevator and avoid a Shakespearean tragedy, sure.”

[cockasinthebird]

Tagged by @lostnoise thank you bby I love you!!!

Also, putting it under a read-more because damn bitch you long

Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen: Actually, when I am, once upon a blue moon, tortured with the unnecessary need to write in hand, I use a green pen! But black if I have to choose between those

Would you prefer to live in the country or the city: BOTH my parents fucking live on the country side and I... fucking hate it... City, city city city, through and through, give me cement and cars and loud noises, I do not care for trees and grass and bugs.

If you could learn a new skill, what would it be: ...singing.

Do you drink coffee/tea with sugar: Coffee with honey and tea with sugar, I have a HUGE sweet tooth holy fuck

What was your favourite book as a child: I had the HUGEST fucking crush on Artemis Fowl, like holy fucking shit I was IN LOVE with that lil genius bastard, and I still look back upon it fondly

Do you prefer baths or showers: WELL, you see, in my lil country o’ origin, Denmark, bath tubs are very very very rare, so I have never had a bath in that sense since I could fit in the sink... so showers, I guess

If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be: Anything with wings, beyond the ability to fly I am not picky

Paper or electronic books: Paper smells fantastic, and oh the aesthetic of it all, but for actually reading, e-books, so I buy both

What is your favourite item of clothing: Skinny jeans, because I look fucking AMAZING in them, man...

Do you like your name, or would you like to change it: HA nope I HATE my name, it is IMPOSSIBLE to pronounce if you’re not Scandinavian, and I have often considered changing my name to Alex, which, funny story, my mom wanted me to be named Alexander if I was a boy, so??? Coincidence??? I THINK NOT!

Who is a mentor to you: I’m supposed to have one??

Would you like to be famous, if so, what for: Oh God yes, holy fucking shit I want people to ask for my autograph and turn their heads whispering Is that them?? As for what for, well, ideally it’d be for being a huge broadway star, but since I can’t sing worth shit, I’ll settle for being Netflix’ next wonderchild of a writer!

Are you a restless sleeper: YUP, fuck yes, oh GOD, I have insomnia for various reasons, so I toss and turn I can’t sleep at night, oh, and I wake a good dozen times too

Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person: Fuck yeah, I wanna date someone I can send flowers to at work, always buy their favourite snacks, cook dinner and eat by candles, eat out and eat out, and just... ye.

Which element best represents you: I’m the Avatar

Who do you want to be closer to: See some of these questions are really setting me up to say Dacre or Joe, but instead I’ll say the Moon

Do you miss someone at the moment: Psh HA yes, but for not very PG reasons

Tell us about an early childhood memory: Nahhhh too depressing

What is the strangest thing you have eaten: Hehe, I mean, uhh, pineapple on pizza?? No but I haven’t eaten anything strange ever, really

What are you most thankful for: Money The internet, because without it I’d have never met this many astounding people, been this well-informed, or ever even seen Joe and Dacre in that shower scene

Do you like spicy food: I literally put garlic or chilli in EVERYTHING I cook, god yes, fucking burn me

Have you ever met someone famous: I shook the hand of our Queen once when I was in 3rd grade and she came to visit our school

Do you keep a diary or journal: Nah, I remember every horribly embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in excruciating detail already

Do you prefer to use pen or pencil: God, those are two vastly different things, like, pens are oddly sexy if you do it clean, but a mechanic pencil is nicer to hold and can be erased, so....

What is your star sign: You mean Zodiac??? Because if you don’t then hell if I know, but Capricorn

Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy: Oh GOD all good things in life is crunchy!!! Ice cream, chocolate, liquorice, cereal, let me fucking chew

What would you want your legacy to be: Well besides my enormous collection of Harringrove smut, I’d want to make a tv show, that even decades later people still love and enjoy, like the original Star Trek, just something that changes tv culture the way they did

Do you like reading, and what was the last book you read: I am actually not that avid a reader, which shames me a great deal, but the last thing I read was, and yeah I’m serious, Brokeback Mountain... Listen, I work in a thrift store, and someone fucking donated it and I... yeah

How do you show someone you love them: Read my tags on everything I reblog from my fellow creators. That is the closest thing I’ll get to showing love in such an honest way. All love is, to me, is the desire to make other people feel better, make them happy and smile and know that they are appreciated and wanted, and I strive to do that every single day. And letting someone know you were thinking about them, whether it’s by sending them a dumb meme or buying them their favourite snack, because you saw it and thought of them. I hope all my followers know I love them.

Do you like ice in your drinks: God yes, keeps it cold and I am gluttonous enough to just inhale whatever the fuck I’m drinking before the ice melts and waters it all out

What are you afraid of: Growing old

What is your favourite scent: There’s this... laundry detergent my ex used, and... it breaks my heart every time I smell it, but it also just reminds me of the good times we had, lying with my head on their chest, just smelling it, feeling the body heat, being happy, being loved. It makes me ridiculously emotional, and coming upon it unexpectedly so just stops time for me

Do you address older people by their name or surname: Man this is a very cultural question to ask, because here everyone calls each other by their first name, like??? I only know people’s last name if it’s absolutely necessary

If money was not a factor, how would you live your life: LAVISHLY SO! But no, really, I know that this is becoming quite tiring to hear of probably, but I would just sit and write. I would wake up, write, go to bed, and then fulfil human duties between like showering and eating and such. I don’t want to travel or party or anything, I just want to write. Also if this question means I’m rich, I’d ofc have a top floor apartment with the view over the ocean and donate as much as I can to literally all charity organizations

Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean: Well that really depends, because, salt water does wonders for my curls, like damn bitch yes work that beach hair, but also I assume the pool is 100% clean, so

What would you do if you found $50 on the ground: I would wonder why the fuck there’s 50 dollars lying on the ground in a country that doesn’t even accept that currency

Have you ever seen a shooting star, and if so did you make a wish: Of course I have, but I always liked to think of them as aliens trying to contact us in a long and drawn-out Morse code

What is one thing you would want to teach your children: Oof, uhhh, no thank you

If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it: I already got three, and I’m planning on getting a bust of Medusa on my left inner-bicep

What can you hear now: He’s just like all the rest! You can’t trust him! Hurt Someone from the musical A Bronx Tale

Where do you feel the safest: Right here baby, in bed, surrounded by far too many pillows and duvets and plushies, I like a hard bed with soft surroundings like a goddamn nest

What is one thing you want to overcome/conquest: The world and your heart, yes in that order

If you could travel back to any era, which would it be: That really depends!!!! Like am I still me? Do I know everything I know now? Can I come back again? There are wayyy too many questions for me to make an educated answer, but I’d like to see what was before the Big Bang

What is your most used emoji: 💕 But you already knew that!

Describe yourself using one word: Magnificent

What do you regret the most: Fuck I can only choose one???

Last movie you saw: Instant Family, and it was really good!!!

Tagging! No one yet again, because we’ve all done these by now, and I am very happy that I got a chance, too!!!

[am-a-greasy-tree]

Get To Know Me Tag

Thank you so much @byonggon for tagging me! I was really happy about it uwu

Rules: Answer the questions and tag ten followers you'd like to get to know better!

1. Name: Sabrina

2. Birth year: 2004 (Now, I know I'm not the oldest person but hey people born in 2008 are already old enough to go to middle school)

3. Sign: Rising Cancer, Sun Pisces and Moon Taurus

4. Height: 170cm or 5'6"

5. Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first five songs:

• Blood - Day6

• Find Me - Jun Hyoseong (ft. D.Action)

• As If It's Your Last - BLACKPINK

• Show & Tell - Melanie Martinez

• Tomorrow - BTS

6. Grab the nearest book, turn to page 23, what's the 17th line:

ein niedliches Haustier zeigen will."

(Der Insasse - Sebastian Fitzek) (It's a german book and I really couldn't find an english version but the title roughly translates to "The Inmate" (Like in a psychiatry) and the line kinda translates to "want to show a cute pet." but I'm not too sure since it isn't a full sentence.)

7. Ever had a song or poem written about you:

At least not that I would know. But to be honest, why would anybody do that?

8. When was the last time you played air guitar:

I kinda don't do that. When it comes to music I just loudly sing along despite my lacking talent when it comes to singing

9. Celebrity Crush(es):

(Not in order but) Kim Taeyeon (SNSD), Kang Seulgi (Red Velvet), Son Hyejoo (Olivia Hye of LOOΠ∆), Lee Yoobin (Dami of Dreamcatcher) and Kim Minji (JiU of Dreamcatcher)

@uwujusonyeo has to listen to me talk about them like multiple times a day. I'm so sorry bro

10. What's a sound you hate/love:

There are a lot of sounds I somewhat dislike but I hate it the most when there's like a short sound that suddenly stops and then starts again and so on and so on for a long time. Everytime that happens I feel myself wanting to punch a b*

11. Do you believe in ghosts:

To be completely honest I don't give a flying fuck. If they do exist I don't care and if they don't whatever. As long as I don't have to knkw I can look at them my fucks will be given elsewhere

12. Do you believe in aliens:

So, judging by how big the universe is (since I consider infinite rather big), I for sure do believe the earth isn't the only planet with living beings on it. Like didn't they find those micro organisms on that one planet? (I really don't remember which one it was and I just got up about and hour ago so I'm too lazy to look it up.)

So, to answer the question,,, Yes. Yes I do

13. Do you drive:

I'm not even allowed to yet. Here in germany you can only start your driver's license at the age of 16 ½ and start driving at the age of 17 but only if a person over 18, that had their drivers license for at least five years and never got charged for any "crimes" regarding driving, is with you. Sounds complicated but I'd recommend starting your driver's license as long as you're underage here because firstly then you don't have to pay those 2000€+ with money you worked your ass off for but can rather pay it with the money that is given to your parents by the state to care for you. Also you have someone you trust sitting next to you while driving for at least a year which lowers the chance of any panick while driving to appear and to cause accidents.

14. Last book you read:

Heat Wave by Richard Castle. My parent got me that one for my 15th birthday and honestly I was so so so happy

15. Do you like the smell of gasoline:

Yes, I do. I know the planet is dying amd stuff and inhaling the gasses produced by gasoline is dangerous but yes that smell is good 👌

16. The last movie you saw:

The Outcasts (2017) starring Victoria Justice and Eden Sher

It's a really funny movie so I can recommend it

17. Do you have any obsessions right now:

Not really I guess just Minji in Deja Vu era because well,,,

Just look at her okay. She just breathed and my knees are fucking shaking

18. Do you tend to hold grudges:

I uh don't think I do. I don't know. Why don't I know oof

19. Are you in a relationship:

I'm not but at the same time wouldn't mind one

20. Tagging:

So I hope I don't annoy anybody with this,,,

@coo-t @sirlucina @bethesuntomymoon @benoutblocks @perryistired @whtclds @lesbiscotte @graymoonstar21 @windowcurtain @mv-knae

[frejahertziswritingthistime]

By Dawn and blood chapter 4

A/N: I really, really love writing this story! It’s beginning to take form, and I’m pretty sure we’ll end up with about 20 chapters, so strap in – it’s going to be a wild ride! Hope you guys love this as much as I do, and that you’ll stick with it – I know I will! This chapter will be from Dean’s perspective, just an FYI.

Remember, feedback feeds the writer, and if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in an ask!

 Previous chapters: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3

 MY MASTERLIST

BY DAWN AND BLOOD MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee – help me pay for my wedding!

 Pairings: Viking!Reader x Dean

Warnings: Language, sexual tension

  Chapter 4: help to those, who ask

The darkness of the cottage was insane. Dean didn’t mind the dark, but he had never experienced this level of darkness – maybe it was the lack of streetlights, but no matter what, it felt weird. He was staring up at the rafters, holding the ceiling, listening to Sam snore like a bear in the other bed.

A lot was weird these days. One, he was transported to the damn early ages, Viking-era, by a fucking witch. Two, he had met his damn dream girl. Who was – theoretically – several thousand years older than him, and he was beginning to question if the witch meant bad or good, when she sent them here.

Y/N. her name was always at the tip of his tongue. She was fucking fierce, that was what she was. He groaned and sat up, ignoring the stings and throbbing from his shoulder, and grabbed a tunic to throw over himself and walked out of the door.

He walked aimlessly around the small town, while thinking – it was quiet around him. From what he remembered from school, which, granted, wasn’t a lot, the Vikings were proud, dirty and barbaric. Like him. They had weird traditions and believed in some crazy things, so he was currently searching for the one thing, he had found the craziest: a seer.

He wandered around, and had almost given up, when a soft, raspy voice sounded. “Those who ask, shall receive.” He turned quickly, dagger out, ready to cut a neck, when he saw her – old, frail and covered in black shrouds, motioning him to her. He walked slowly to her. “Are you the seer?” she nodded. He followed her inside a small area, carved in a stone and surrounded by dead plants. She sat down, and Dean did as well, looking around; it was a small area, cold and damp – like a grotto, almost.

“I cannot help, unless you seek, wanderer.” She said. Dean frowned. “I, uh… I don’t even know what to ask, honestly.”  She grunted. “You do.” Dean stared at her for a while, and then sighed deeply. “Am… Am I ever going home?” she drew a deep breath and leaned back, the shrouds on her face shifting a little. “Home…? That all falls on you, wanderer. Where is your home?” Dean sighed. “I’m not sure anymore.” The seer leaned forwards, grabbing his hand. “I see many swords with you.” Dean rolled his eyes. What the hell would that give him? He had no fucking clue, what she was talking about, much less what he was supposed to understand about it. “The witch, that sent us here. How’ll we get back?” “I cannot tell what we will. Your brother will find a way.” Dean was getting frustrated and yanked his hand back from the seer. “You will do great things. Someone certain of who you are, and what you can become, will be next to you, in a city of marble and stone. I cannot nor will I say more.” She held her hand out, palm up. Dean frowned. “What do you want me to do...?” a snarl sounded from behind the shroud. “Lick. It.” Dean gulped, but leaned forward, his tongue darting out and quickly licking the palm of the seer, before running out of her space – he rinsed his tongue with water and spit on the ground.

“Gross.” A soft laughter sounded behind him. “It is always fun to visit the seer.” Y/n stood behind him, leaned against an old tree, and smiled at him. “Why should I lick her hand? That is the weirdest sense of payment I’ve ever seen.” She grinned at him and grabbed his arm, leading him towards the square.

“It is tradition. She takes from you, as you take from her. Or maybe she is simply a very lonely woman.” She laughed when Dean gagged. “Fuck me, well, I’m not going back again.” She smiled and pointed to a gazebo with furs slung over the railings. “Come. I want to know who you are and where you came from, Dean málm-hridg.” He smiled and felt his cheeks heating up. He also felt seriously underdressed – the itchy tunic and leather pants were nothing in comparison to her; she was wearing a leather corset, that… amplified… Her bust, and Dean had to try his hardest to stop from staring, a light blue, loose shirt and a pair of pants – her axe hung proudly from her belt, and her hair was braided to the side – he hadn’t noticed before today, but it wasn’t just one braid – it was several smaller braids, combined to one. As they sat down, he pointed to her hair.

“What’s with the braids? I’ve never seen you with loose hair.” She shrugged and grabbed a pitcher of mead, poured it into two goblets and handed him one, before leaning back on the bench and stared at the fire in front of her. “Another tradition. A woman’s hair is what shows her status. Braided, she is a fighter, loosely braided, she’s an unmarried fighter, many braids…” she smirked and winked at him. “she’s killed many. Another braid is a kill.” She drank deeply, and Dean followed. He hadn’t tasted mead before, but he could drink it forever – it was like warm honey and strong alcohol mixed into a perfect symphony. “If a woman’s hair is up, she is married. Braided and up? A fighter and very much spoken for. We rarely let karlmaór see us with loose hair. It sends… a message.” He frowned. “Karlmajor?” she smiled softly: “Karlmaór. Men. Average men.” He nodded distractedly. “What… You say average men. Do you have names for other men?” she winked at him, and his heart jumped a little; she was beautiful and probably cunning as hell, but he didn’t mind it – honestly, he sort of welcomed it. She was different from anything he had seen before.

“Well… We have names for men like you, Dean.” His name sounded like fucking candy in her mouth – so soft, smooth but with some sort of dialect behind it. He could listen to his name from her mouth forever. “Yeah?” she nodded and moved a little closer to him. Her mouth was perfect, and in the firelight, she shone like a fucking goddess. “We call men like you orrostumaór. Man of battle, a warrior.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and leaned forwards as well – their knees were touching, and he felt like his leg had caught fire. “I saw you on the field, Dean. You fight with no fear. We call warriors like you berserkers – simply no fear of death, only a taste for the battle and a waiting wish for Valhalla.” He nodded and drew a deep breath. She smelled like lavender.

“I don’t know much about Valhalla. Or your gods, I guess.” She cocked her head curiously to the side – her braid swung delicately from her neck. “How about this. You tell me something about you and your homestead, and I will tell you about our Gods.” He nodded and smirked. “I guess that’s a fair deal.” She poured him another drink; he already felt a little fuzzy from the previous drink, but it was fine. He was fine. “Where do you come from?” he shrugged. “Nowhere and everywhere. We don’t really have a home. When I was a kid, we lived in a place called Kansas, but it’s been a long time gone.” She drank. Her hand was so close to his arm, and he almost felt her twitch to constrain herself from reaching out and touching him. “You are a flakka. A wanderer.” He grinned. “I guess it’s what I am.”

He moved his arm half an inch closer to her and could feel the heat of er fingertips. “What is Valhalla?” she smiled at his question and moved impossible close to him without touching more than a knee with hers.

“Valhalla is the sacred hall, where the Gods meet their warriors, when they fall in battle. The warriors are called einherjerne and Valhalla… Valhalla is made of gold. It has 540 gates, and all of them will open when Ragnarok arrives. The einherjerne fight every day, killing each other in the great hall and are revived by Valkyries to continue the next day. It is glorious and a dream for any warrior to enter the golden, great hall and gaze upon Odin.” Dean hadn’t noticed until now, that her voice had lowered to a whisper and she was close – her lips were tickling his earlobe, and it took all he had to stop himself from attacking her and just taking her then and there.

“Sounds... Gold.” He whispered. She threw he head back and laughed, breaking their close proximity – her laugh was like the sound of waves hitting the shoreline, and Dean had never heard anything like it; he would listen to it forever. “So, Dean…” she said after catching her breath. She looked at him, her wide eyes glimmering with something, he could recognize; curiosity and mischief. “Who are you?” she gulped the last of her goblet, and set it down, looking expectantly at him. He sighed and leaned back.

“oof, that’s a question.” He drew a deep breath and smelled the sweet, subtle lavender from her. “I guess… I… I have no idea. I’ve been a fighter all my life, lost just about everyone around me. I’m…” he looked at her. He felt somewhat strange, telling her these things – he felt calm around her, calm in this place, and it both confused him and made him feel happy. “I’m me, I guess. Not really here or there, and… Fucking hell, I’m really shitty at this. I’m a…. Fighter, loser, all of that.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I cannot believe you to lose. You are a great fighter, Dean. And, from what I can feel… You are also a great man. You must teach me your swears and prayers. They sound fun.” He grinned widely and felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. “Thank you, I guess. And don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough!” She nodded and stood up with a smile, reaching for his hand. “You are a great man, who need sleep.” He grabbed her hand and stood up – her hand was oddly warm. They walked in comfortable silence to the cottage, and she stopped, turned to him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“I pity all the women, who refused your proposal. I can promise you, they are clearly missing something in their life.” Se smiled softly. “I believe that is only for my gain.” She whispered. He didn’t have the time to think further of it, because she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek softly.

“Sleep well, málm-hridg.”

Dean looked at her retreating back, the axe-head shining brightly in the moonlight, and as he saw her leave, he smiled to himself; the nickname she gave him felt like a caress and he wished she’d keep calling him that. At the same moment as she disappeared in the night, he realized one thing – he might never leave this place.

And he did not mind one bit.

 LIKE THIS? LET ME KNOW!

TAGLIST: 

@trustnobodyshootfirst @hobby27 @akshi8278 @wingedcatninja @supernatural-idjit-95 @polina-93 @dean-winchesters-bacon @andkatiethings @flamencodiva @anathewierdo @purplecatterpiller

FOREVERLIST:

@supernaturalmagicfolk @redeyedvixen @al1y @roonyxx @heyitscam99 @sherlockstolemyname @tayyfvck @starletzombie @linki-locks11 @pisces-cutie @luciferspreciousbabygirl @vickyfarley @meganywinchester @drakelover78

[alteredphoenix]

sweet like sangria (ToB)(Veleanor)(WIP)(+18)

A/N: Been busy IRL with work/school/other fics a’la not dead but I’ve been plunking away at this for about a day or so since my ToFemslash stuff grew wildly out of control which is why it’s been taking so long to finish and upload OOF and most of it’s been sitting in my USB fic dump for about a year now.

I got the idea for the title from a song I overheard at work one day. I don’t hear it anymore, since I guess the station they have playing over the intercom changed tracks, but the phrase just stuck with me which is what prompted the fic to happen.

(Also I wanted an excuse to write top!Eleanor because I like a little variety in writing and reading Veleanor fics - and also because have you seen the way Velvet acts when she’s not putting on the tough girl act? She’d die inside.)

-

Eleanor’s got that look in her eye again. It’s intense, one-track. It’s the look she gets when she sees someone walking one of those big, tall dogs packed with hard muscle and loads and loads of fur that would stick to couches so badly they’d have to be set on fire. The look when they listen to Eizen go off the cuff on his tours at the museum in Loehgrin about some ancient painting or bust that’s hypothetically dated to be from the Dark Ages and she openly corrects him that no, that’s from the Destiny Dawn era and all the cheer is drained from his face to be replaced by wide-eyed shock, upset, and thinly-veiled scorn aimed directly at her when everyone trains their eyes on him because how dare him, they spent good money getting their hard-earned education two-thirds of them will discard and forgotten within an hour for something more important to them. It’s the look that says if she wasn’t tied down by a leash and instilled with the celerity of good old Southgand tact she’d fly off it and let impulse take the reins.

It’s pretty fucking hot. Velvet wishes Eleanor would make that face more often. If not for her sake and whatever goes on in the bedroom, then maybe, just maybe, for the thought of watching Magilou’s mind get blown from being cowed by it when she oversteps her boundary (if anyone were to call the impersonal breach of personal space a boundary).

Her head spins at the image and heat rush from her fingertips to her groin that’s all too brief to enjoy. It’s almost akin to swallowing back bile. Easy, Velvet tells herself. Easy. It’s your day off. Don’t cause a scene. Don’t cause a scene. Don’t cause a—

She takes a peek at Eleanor next to her: still bent over, ass sticking out and nearly double, observing the table of sweets and pastries packed and stacked together in neat, asymmetrical rows. She’s got the tip of her thumbnail wedged between her teeth and it’s being nibbled into oblivion. Sharp incisors they are compared to how blunt everything else is. Oh, but those little fuckers know how to bite, and Eleanor knows better than to bite all the way down to the wick. If there’s any place she’s going to draw blood and ecstasy, from, it’s going to be on Velvet’s neck, preferably right by her pulse so she can recall, with everlasting clarity, how thin the space between life and death is.

Velvet forces herself to blink very, very slowly—slow enough to ride out the sudden onrush of blood that elicits another wave of warmth. She makes a show of idly tugging at the kerchief that’s covering more than a dozen bruised hickeys coloring her jugular in a fine, dark necklace. The kerchief she wanted to wear at her own insistence for several minutes while that shit-stirrer grin on Eleanor’s face grew wider and wider. It only fell and turned into a pout when she finally relented, but if someone asked Velvet if she could pinpoint the exact moment the glee turned into disappointment (and maybe a little pity) she’d say it was when she threw out the dreaded P-word—please.

The poor girl can’t resist the puppy eyes for very long.

Velvet turns away for a moment to sweep the area. It’s jam-packed, more so than it usually is at this hour of the day. Not quite yet rush hour, but soon the men in their pinstripe suits or their thick jackets will come in and immerse themselves into the departments their feminine halves would peruse and they wouldn’t want to be caught dead in. The floral section, the bake shop, the seasonal aisle where the spring decorations and rabbit-shaped candies and their cotton candy chickens are decked out in full force two months prior now that football season is finally over. Today the bake shop and the deli that neighbors it are congested, both from the jumbled assortment of people waiting at the deli counter and also the older shoppers trundling along in their electric carts.

When she turns back, Eleanor’s still looking. Velvet heaves a world-weary sigh. “Hon, just pick something out. I can only stare at your ass for so long.”

Eleanor jolts, face flushed and glaring. “Sh-Shut up! This is important!”

“Eleanor, it’s for dessert later tonight, not for a wake. The dead will have already reincarnated by the time we’re checking out.”

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Next Time (SMUT)

delightfuldun said: can you please make an imagine where you're just lounging around with all of My Chemical Romance (black parade era if you wanna get specific) and idk something happens and you end up being in a relationship with mikey by the end of the day because you both have ginormous crushes on each other? (did that make any sense?) OH WAIT DO YOU DO SMUT BECUASE IF YOU DO SOME MIKEY WAY SMUT IS NEEDED (please)

"Just fucking hit him, you pussy!" Frank screamed, almost tearing his hair out in frustration.

"FUCK OFF, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Gerard yelled back, his fingers moving furiously.

The figures on the screen battled with one another, the gloriously deep voice of the Mortal Kombat narrator declaring, "FINISH HIM." as Gerard's figure sent Ray's keeling over. Gerard pulled a quick move and sent Ray flying, Ray screaming in defeat as Gerard shrieked and pumped his fists in victory, Frank high-fiving him and yelling insults at Ray as he curled up in embarrassment on the couch and fake cried.

Mikey's chest rumbled against your back as he chuckled and you grinned, looking back at him as the chaos ensued around you.

Mikey Way. You didn't want to be too cheesy, but he was really everything you'd dreamed of as an angsty teenager. Quiet, brooding, caring, genuine, and actually funny once you broke down his walls. And he looked at you like you were something special, which made your heart race, but you were unfailingly certain that it was just because he valued you as a friend so much. He looked at the band in similar ways, care and appreciation in his eyes as they exited the stage night after night and sweatily hugged it out. So you just brushed it off, but your feelings were so built up in a concentrated place in your heart that you thought it might burst at some time.

"My brother's not intimidating," he noted offhandedly, his arms wrapping around you in a hug as he pulled you back against his chest, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. You shifted slightly to get comfortable and rested your head on his shoulder, watching the screen as Frank started a new match with Gerard. Mikey's arms stayed around you, making you blush lightly as you smiled a little.

"Why are you blushing?" he teased gently, squeezing your side. You blushed even more as you buried your face in his t-shirt, the smell of his cologne making you smile wider.

"I'm not blushing. It's hot in here, my face is probably red" you blatantly lied. Mikey nuzzled your hair slightly, just slightly so that no one but you noticed, and he talked low enough for only you to hear, even though Frank was only a few feet away from you.

"Bullshit, Y/N," he mumbled. "Tell me the truth or I'll tickle you."

Your eyes widened and you whined softly, turning to face him and looking up at him. "I-I blushed... I blushed because-" you swallowed hard, wondering whether or not you should say it. It might ruin a friendship you cherished and get you fired as merch manager, but your heart screamed and your mind melted as you finally sighed shakily. "I blushed because your arms being around me felt nice. It felt like we were a couple for a second and it made me feel happy because you were holding me possessively, like maybe I was yours for a second."

Mikey was quiet for a moment, studying your face as you laid it all out on the table for him, biting your lip anxiously. Then he smiled and chuckled once, looking back up to the screen and not saying anything. Your jaw dropped and you smacked his chest gently, straddling his hips and demanding attention from him. "Michael Way, you did not just ignore me!" you said, the boys yelling about Mortal Kombat too loudly to hear you.

"I didn't ignore you," he replied, shrugging before looking back at you and grinning lopsidedly. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled your torso to his tightly, making you 'oof' softly as the breath was knocked out of you. "I was just thinking, hey, what if she was my girlfriend? And then I smiled."

"Smiled becaaaauuusse.." you furthered, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Because I liked the thought," he admitted, his eyes flitting down to your lips before looking back up at your eyes, his facial expression stony and eyes level as you both stared at each other, unsure of what to do next.

Almost by impulse and complete coincidence, you both went to kiss each other at almost exactly the same time. Your lips smashed together, sloppy at first, but you both quickly got into a rhythm and his hand gripped your side gently as you cupped his face, your lips moving together. Your heart raced as your mind went blank, focused on Mikey only, and you couldn't help but smile against his lips, blushing as you heard but didn't see the boys gagging overdramatically at you two and several exiting. Frank was the last to exit, looking at you two and groaning disgustedly before muttering, "Happy you guys finally figured it out but really?" With that, he left and you two were left alone, which admittedly made you feel a little mischievous. Mikey picked up on the increased sexual tension in the air and deepened the kiss without sparing another moment, his hands roaming down to your hips before smoothly slipping into the back of your pants and coming to rest on your ass.

You pulled away slowly, opening your eyes to find that he'd already opened his, and you both locked gazes. His eyes were noticeably darker and he smirked slightly before blowing a hair out of his face and gently tugging your shirt off, looking up and down your body slowly before looking up at you. "I've imagined this sight a lot, honestly, but I never thought I'd actually get to see it," he admitted, making you blush and duck your head down to kiss him again, this time more heated from the get-go. It didn't seem like he desired to take your bra off from the way he currently fumbled with the button of your pants, which was nice because it probably would have made you incredibly nervous about your body for the first time. Instead, you carefully pushed off your pants and moved your lips to his jaw, not even bothering to take off his shirt as you toyed with the button on his pants, smiling playfully and nipping at the skin just under his chin, making him groan softly and lift his hips up to grind against you. You moaned softly in response, grinding your hips down against him and blushing at the fact that you were even doing this right now. Pushing his pants down, you started to pull his boxers down when he reached down and pushed aside your panties, starting to rub your clit slowly as he kissed along your shoulder and up your neck, leaving little bites along the way.

"Y/N," he murmured, rubbing your hips as he made his way along your jaw. "You sure you want to do this?" His fingers worked expertly at your core, making your moan shakily and nod. He scrutinized your face for a moment after pulling away to look at you, and what he saw seemed to please him enough as he pushed down his boxers and pants, catching your lips in a deep kiss as he carefully pushed your panties aside, carefully positioning himself and pressing the tip of his length into your entrance, kissing your forehead as he looked at you and smirked quickly before thrusting into you. You cried out in surprise, gripping his shoulders tightly, and he started to thrust into you slowly, keeping eye contact as he bit his lip.

Your bodies moved with one another, your hips meeting his with each thrust as you gripped his shoulders tightly, waves of pleasure rolling through your entire body. You rolled your hips, moaning his name as he held your hips tightly and helped guide you, kissing your temple and breathing shallowly. It was an odd place and time for you to be having sex with Mikey, but you honestly didn't care as your skin met his, sending electric pulses throughout your body. You felt like you were on cloud 9 as he moaned out your name, thrusting faster and causing you to arch your back slightly in pleasure. He tangled a hand in your hair, sloppily kissing you as you both moved your hips faster, your hearts beating erratically in off-time and hands grasping at each other needily as you both got closer and closer to your highs.

"Oh my god, Y/N," he cursed under his breath, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. You sensed that he was far too close, so you rolled your hips and triggered his climax. His breath hitched in his throat as he gripped your sides tightly, riding out his high and finishing it out with a low groan and a fluttering of his eyelashes.

His head fell backwards against the couch as you dismounted, cleaning both of you up and getting dressed back up. He finally noticed what you were doing when you sat back down next to him and his eyebrows furrowed, his eyelids flying open as he looked straight at you. "You didn't finish!" he said, obviously in shock. "Let me help you finish."

"No, no, no," you replied, pushing his hands away and leaning up to kiss him gently, grinning slightly against his lips and murmuring. "It'll be my turn next time." You could feel his lips curl into a devilish smile as he heard that.

"Next time? I think I like the sound of that."

i’m back bitches!!!!???

-whitney