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hearts4chriss · 7 months

Text

Tap that.

flirty Bestfriend! Chris x poc! Bestie

prompt: you and Chris are bestfriend, he’s obsessed with you, he’s in love with you actually he’s dying to fuck you. You, Chris nick and Matt go out to dinner and you’re wearing a tight outfit think that’s it? Uou had to take everyone home and you forced to sit on Chris’s lap and ur ass on him. He’s whipped

Part 9

warnings: mentions of reader having the fattest ass eva, public touching?, teasing, pet names ( mama, ma, good girl, princess ), backshots, chris is a freak, ass grabbing, ass slapping yktv ( Chris loving ur ass ), dirty talk

6:38 PM

Los Angeles California

my apartment.

I was getting ready to go out to dinner with my best friends, the sturniolo triplets and friends

Matt’s a cutie he’s always so good at calming me down

Nicks so much fun to gossip with and makes me laugh

Now Chris.

Chris is..well how do I say it, he’s hot as fuck.

He flirts with me when I tell him no and responds with

“Come on mama you know you like it” with a stupid smirk making my pussy throb and ache for him.

It’s ridiculous, and idiotic I had to realistic, Chris and me were never gonna happen.

Until…

Present day.

I slipped on my pink sheer outfit

I looked in the mirror as my hair touched my ass and I slipped on some white heels and my lip gloss as I heard their car honk outside I made my way outside

fuck- she looks so damn good in that outfit and I knew her ass was moving too. I couldn’t see fully but I saw movement when she began to walk to the car. Her curves leading up to her waist and her tits she looked drop dead gorgeous and I was already getting hard.

I sat in the back next to nick.

“You look so prettyy.” Nick said smiling at me and Matt nodded in agreement

“Thank you guysss.” I smiled and Chris looked back at me moving his hands together licking his lips.

“Ew you freak.” I giggle adjusting the top of it as Matt drove to the restaurant as he told us everyone would meet us there via Uber.

“You look good.” Chris smirked and I already felt my panties drench at his words trying to ignore him and his stupid ass

“Yeah yeah shut up.” I roll my eyes and he chuckles

“You know you like it.” The boy turns around raising his eye brows raising deep sighs from his brothers

“WHAT?!” Matt yelled at the same time Nick yelled “CHRIS ENOUGH” and Chris just laughed and we continued on our way to the restaurant.

We made our way there and Chris came by and opened my door.

“After you.” He says doing a gentlemanly gesture and I side eye and get out the car

“Thank you Christopher.” I chuckle and he smiles and closes my door.

“fuck that ass”- he mumbles under his breath assuming I didn’t hear him but god the way he said it made me wet, I could picture him biting his lip too.

“Hm?” I said “confused”

“Nothing nothing.” Chris said smiling back at me as we made our way to our friends table

“Hey madi!!” I said giving her a huge hug

“Heyy you look so pretty.” she smiles and I hug her tighter

we all sat down and I was across from madi, next to nick and Chris and Matt was across from me next to madi and few of our other friends down the table.

It broke out into distinct chatter and everyone orders as the table fills with talks about food, drinking sex and other topics.

As we talked I felt Chris’s hand sneak its way to my thigh.

“What’d you say Nick?” Chris said leaning over me his hand pressing further into my thigh as if he had no idea what he was doing.

He gives me a wink before turning to his brother hearing what he had to say leaving a small tap on my thigh before letting go.

“Boy- You actual freak.” I say playfully slapping his chest as he jokingly placing his hand over his heart play hurt imagining those fingers wrapped around my throat as fu-

“Girl ur foods here.” Nick chuckles tapping my shoulder and snapping me out of my fantasies of fucking his brother.

I shake my head and nod.

The rest of dinner consisted of mostly us just

eating, Chris making occasionally flirty glances at me with that stupid smirk that makes my panties soaked

I hated how he made me feel especially since he’s my bestfriend, the effect he has on me makes me sick to my stomach.

eventually dinner ends and I decided that I’d pay for everyone’s meal, Chris reluctantly takes my card out his hand and passes his to the waitress.

“Don’t worry I got it.” Chris gives me a sly smile and I roll my eyes and whine at his cocky action.

“Come on what kinda bestfriend would I be if I let you pay?” I never let you pay. He chuckles as he pulls my chair back letting me stand up

fuck is she trying to make me cum in my pants? She stands up and all I can see is her ass faintly covered by the sheer material, her hips syncing with the rest of her body.

She’s gorgeous, undeniably attractive. The way she stands up and then has to adjust herself only made me want her more. Those fucking curves- I know it’s wrong because she’s my bestfriend but it’s taking everything in me to not bend her over this table and fuck her until she can’t s-

“Chris!!” I chuckle snapping my fingers taking the boy out of his fantasies

“Oh huh? What did you say sorry.” He scratched his head running his fingers through his soft hair hoping you didn’t notice.

“I saiddd, I spoke dragging the d. Can I sleepover tonighttt. I playfully nudged him and he chuckled.

“Yeah of course you never have to ask.” He winks at me and puts his arm around me before I throw it off.

“enough flirting Christopher.” I roll my eyes popping my gum and he groans putting his hands in his pockets as we made our way to the car.

we all pile in and realize, there’s not enough room for everyone.

“Uh ur gonna have to sit on Chris’s lap if that’s okay with you.” Matt says nervously waiting for my reaction.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit

“Yeah that’s fine.” I say getting on Chris lap making myself comfortable.

“he told you sit not give me a lap dance.” Chris mutters in my ear and I hit his thigh and he winced.

“Enough I’m getting comfy”. I said finally situating myself on his lap as Matt begins to drive.

The ride was pretty quiet, some faint lil skies in the background as everyone was on their phones with their AirPods in, we came across a speed bump and chris groans. That’s when I felt something poke my thigh and I realized, Chris was hard.

“Chris…” I whisper in his ear, the boy reluctantly holds my hips and groans resting his head into the crook of my neck

“Fuck- you expect me to not feel this way when ur on my lap?” Chris mutters into my neck trying to distract me from what he just mentioned.

“you have all this ass mama it’s right in my hands and fuck I’m loving it-“ he whispers in my ear with that low voice and I felt a wetness pool in my panties.

Chris starts grinding himself into my ass trying to create friction between us.

I let out a soft moan feeling his dick press its way onto my clothed pussy and he smirks.

“gotta be quiet, don’t worry I’ll handle that ass.” He whispers in my ear chuckling darkly as I try and snap out of it.

“Chris we-“ the brunette silences me by pressing his finger to my lips.

“I’ll make you feel so good, you’re saying you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“shit it took everything In me to not bend you over the table and fuck you so hard you could even speak- “ the sinister words left his mouth and my jaw was dropped as he reached his fingers down to toy with my clit fully clothed.

“Fuck-“ I say quietly holding his hand, Chris’s thumb pressing into my wetness.

“ur already wet for me sweetheart”. Tell me, you don’t like the idea of ur pretty face buried into my pillows as I ruin you?

“Chris-“I whimper grinding myself on his hand and he chuckles.

“I know ur pussy is tight baby let me stretch it out for you.” He practically growls into my ear only making me more desperate for his dick

—

it was only 10 minutes when we got back and chris had me where he wanted me.

“Let take this off.l Chris smirks pulling down the thin material leaving me bare, my body even better then it was in the bodysuit.

“Shit- look so fucking good.” He looks at me biting his bottom lip, his dick pressing painfully against his jeans.

“Fuck you wanna help me ma?” He says and I Scoot closer pulling down his jeans with his boxers letting his thick cock spring out.

Fuck he was so big, I always predicted it he always had a bulge but shit seeing it in front of me I realized how huge Chris’s dick was.

“Get on all 4s for me princess.” He spoke impatiently stroking himself as I complied I did so.

“Fuck arch that shit back for me.” Chris leaves a smack to ass and I whimper doing so.

he positions himself closer rubbing his dick between my folds not putting it in.

“Chris- mph fuck just put it in.” I whine and he chuckles

“Beg for it, call me daddy and be a good girl.” He says sternly and I almost wanted to laugh but he was dead serious.

“fuck- daddy please fuck me with ur cock need it so bad.” I whimper impatiently and before I could process what I just said he forces himself in my cunt as I squeeze around him

“Fuckk ur pussys so tight.” Chris groans as he starts rocking his hips into mine.

“F-faster p-please-“ I stutter out my face buried into the pillows and he quickens his pace up.

Chris stretched me out painfully at first but it quickly turned into pleasure, my ass slapping against his pelvis echoed in his room as he grips it tightly rocking me hard on his cock.

“Oh fuckk! S-shit Chris!” I moan out in pleasure he smacks my ass harder this time making me jolt.

“That’s not my name sweetheart.” He says grabbing my throat pushing him further whilst snapping my hips into mind making me squeeze my eyes shut.

“s-sorry mmph- daddy oh fuckkk!” I cry out as he leaves kisses along my back and neck his hands pressing into my ass harshly.

“oh shittt not gonna last long like this mama-“ Chris groans watching how his cock slides in and out my walls biting his bottom lip for the 100th time tonight

watching my ass jiggle effortlessly with every harsh thrust he makes as I cried out curses of his name and him slapping my ass repeatedly saying “that’s not my name slut get it right”.

“O-oh f-fuck so good-“ I press my face further in the pillows as his hand firmly hold my neck so he can thrust harder and deeper into my cunt dripping with arousal coating his dick.

Chris was enjoying this, no doubt when I heard his grunts and how his hands were basically glued to my ass for sure leaving a mark or two.

If anyone told me his cock was this fucking big, shit I would’ve been let him fuck me, and it was something about how he did it, he wasn’t gentle, he ruined me with no care in the world, as if his brother weren’t only so far away.

“Shittt! D-daddy so fucking deep oh fuck!” I grip the sheets beside me with force as he turns my head so he can see the look of pleasure on my face as I scream and moan from his doing.

Chris chuckles from how loud I was only making him go faster and harder.

“Been wanting to fuck you like this for a while ma.” He mumbles into my ear leaving a kiss on my neck smacking my ass again rubbing over the stinging area before ramming my face into the pillow reaching down to rub my clit to chase my orgasm.

“Ugh fuck o-oh shit-“ my cries echo off his walls as I close my walls onto his cock twitching as he groans needing to cum with me

“Come on baby cum with me yeah?” Chris nearly stutters rutting his hips into mine making me nearly scream out his name in tears from the pleasure.

“Fuck fuckkk I’m cumming daddy!” I screamed out as he rubbed harder his thrust deeper as I creamed Chris’s dick in a matter of seconds as he continued thrusting

“O-oh shit-“ I cry out tiredly as he was beginning to chase his own orgasm my thighs beginning to close in.

“I know sweetheart hold on for me just a little longer.” Chris kissed my back gently reassuring me as my eyes squeezed closed shut panting as I felt another orgasm approach.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum in ur pretty pussy baby- shit-“ he stutters feeling himself get closer as his thrusts get sloppier and my stomach returning to that same feeling

“Oh shitttt daddy make me cum again fuckk!” I whimper tearing up again from how hard I knew this orgasm was about to hit me as well as his.

“Ugh fuck- I will mama shit-“ Chris moans releasing deep inside me as I squirted right after and he smirks.

“Shit look so fucking pretty like this princess.” Chris says breathlessly pulling out of me and I wince at the loss of contact.

“Fuck Chris-“ I groan as our cum drips out of me and he flips me over

“so pretty.” He smiles wiping my tears kissing my face and I smiled.

“so uh you know I didn’t just fuck you because ur ass is fat right?” He says nervously pulling on the back of his hair and I tilt my head

“*sigh* I’m in love with you, that’s the main reason I wanted to do this to you, I’ve been for a while I’ve just been waiting for the right time to make a move. He sighs laying next to me.”

“Chris- that’s- that’s really sweet- I’m in love with you too I was just scared I’d ruin our friendship.” My hands gravitated toward my braids playing with the ends and he chuckles.

“Ur my best friends, I’d never what you to feel used especially by me-“ Chris smiles.

“You think we’re just best friends after that? I roll my eyes playfully and he roles them back.”

“Well shit wanna be my girl?”

“fuck yes.” I giggle pressing my lips on his

that’s when I knew

I was in love with my bestfriend, Chris sturniolo

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leiswxrld · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒… “Don’t run away this is what you wanted…right”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Street racer!Tom Kaulitz x Street racer!black fem reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, p in v sex, riding, missionary, public sex in a car, enemies to lovers trope, Tom low-key misogynistic, no condom, Tom is 18+, inspired by Tokyo drift.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3691 Words

𝐀/𝐍: please make suggestions on what I should write next low-key running out of ideas and dw sub!bill one shot has not been forgotten, writing it soon. Also listen to the slowed and reverb version so much better.

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You were number one street racer in all of California and the first woman to win a race against all men which deemed you the name ‘the queen of street racing’ and since then you hadn’t lost a race until he came along.

You were crouched in front of your car cleaning the exterior of your customised purple Nissan 350-Z, making sure to wash off the dirt from your last race. The soapy suds splattered all over your black dungaree as you wiped the sweat that formed across your forehead, the noises from your boombox echoed in your garage as tap in by saweetie played through as you bounced to the beat, muttering the lyrics under your breath.

You grabbed the mechanical creeper at your side and rolled under your car making a few adjustments and changing the oil filter before coming back up covered in muck and oil. The sudden ring of your phone was heard as you go to grab it, pressing the green illuminated button, “Hello”

“Yo Y/N got a race for you tonight you able to make it for today”

You contiplated your choices, hand gravitating to your hips. You really could use the money, “how much”

“About 1000 grand if you win this race”

“Alright I’ll be there in an hour”

“Ight bet see you there”

You hang up and decided the first thing on the agenda was to take a shower. You get dressed into the casual outfit you normally wore, a short purple skirt and a crop top, matched with long boots and a pair of earrings and necklace to go with. If you were going to race you were going to make sure you looked good doing it.

Sliding into the drivers side, you pushed the keys into the ignition and the engine came to life with a roar and you grinned in excitement as you turned on the radio connecting your phone to it as Shut up and drive by Rihanna blasted through the speakers. You revved the engine, the exhausts making popping sounds every time you pressed you foot on the pedal. You had exactly 10 mins to get there and you were guaranteed you were going to make it.

You took off, zooming down the streets of LA California with the windows rolled down as the midnight breeze hit your skin sending goosebumps throughout. Your hands controlled the steering wheel, making direct and quick turns towards the race. The familiar neon lights came into view as you saw the different drivers parked up in lanes over at the track, you park next to the familiar driver you knew as Devante who looked smug as usual, you wouldn’t consider him a friend or fiend but someone you could tolerate.

Stepping outside the vehicle, Devante doesn’t miss the chance to make his advances towards you letting out a whistle as you throw him the middle finger, “if it isn’t Y/N what are you doing here shouldn’t you be in the kitchen or something”

“Very fucking funny Devante the only person that will be in the kitchen will be you when I beat you in the race” you snidely reply, flicking your hair behind your back. He chuckles leaning against the side of his car as he seemed to eye you up more than usual, “We will see bout’ that Y/N when you’ll be the one making me a sandwich”

You ignore his dumb comment and your eyes linger to unfamiliar face down the far right with the black car which seemed to be a 1997 Mazda RX-7. He was tall about 6’2 from your usual height, the rows of cornrows he had surprisingly looked good for the white boy and he had a long white tee and baggy blue jeans that were sagged. He was beyond fine than you liked to admit even though you could barley see him to begin with and seemingly kept to himself not worrying about the people around him.

“Devante who’s the guy stood over there with the black car on the far right” you say pointing in the direction of the mysterious boy, he looks towards the direction your pointing in and chuckles, “Oh him that’s Tom Kaulitz German racer apparently he’s a pretty big deal in Germany won every race he’s been in”

You nod looking back at the boy almost mugging him, “What don’t tell me the queen of racing is scared she might actually lose to big sensation Tom Kaulitz” he teases and you roll your eyes and cross your arms .

“Puh-lease I’ve won every race there’s no way I’m scared that ‘big sensation’ Tom Kaulitz will beat me, it will be like every other race an easy 1000 dollars made”

He smirks eyebrow pointing upwards, “if you say so”

Your attention is drawn to the two Asian girls with flags, signalling the race was about to begin. “May the best racer win” you salute at him before climbing into your car, fixing the rearview mirror. You check yourself out once more, applying a fresh coat of clear lip gloss before flicking the mirror back up. Your attention is brought back to the two girls as they waved the flags, you revved your engine getting ready to take off.

You smiled at the familiar sight of your fan girls that we’re screaming you on, you send them a wave and a rev of your engine egging them on. Your head turns toward your competitors as they seemed to do the same thing sizing you up as you gave them all a wink. The girls wave their flags counting down from 3 until they reached 1 waving their flags down signalling to go and you take off with a quickness leaving a gust of wind behind.

You screamed in excitement, the thrill of driving going up as your adrenaline pumped your heart harder. Your foot pressed hard against the accelerator, making harsh turns as you watched your competitors in the rear view and they were inches behind you, luckily this race was one lap only and you knew easily you would win. You picked up speed, following the course of the road.

Your hand gravitated to the stick shift changing the gears every time you heard the timed ticks from the engine, the purple fumes illuminated the road as you turned the corner. One of the racers picked up speed going neck to neck with you and turned your head for a second to see it was that German driver. You sneered as he turned in your direction with a grin, speeding past you, “Fuck”

You chased after him, changing gears and your speed exceeding over 140 mph. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as your lungs tightened with anticipation, you were overtaking each other each second and the finish line was nearing, you knew you couldn’t lose especially not some newbie that you barley knew. You were swerving at each corner, the tires making noises against the tarmac as the finish line came into view and you pressed your leg harder on the pedal, not paying attention to the other drivers but you and him.

“Come on…come on….come on…”

And with that you both make it to the finish line and you didn’t come first place. You slowed down, parking your car near the finish line. Furious wasn’t a way to describe how you were feeling, you were beyond pissed to the point you felt actual fumes coming out from both ears. You watched how king dickhead got praises and cheers from the crowd as he seemed to be boastful about it in excitement as if he was trying to intentionally piss you off more.

Devante and the rest of the drivers pull up next to you and get out of their vehicles and you follow, glaring at the one who took your position as winner. “Seems like you owe me a sandwich”

“Fuck off D not now” he put his hands up at your snarky attitude and you continued to look at Tom. From now on he was captain asshole and you would make sure you would make it know.

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A few weeks went by and you went from number one female driver in LA to second place, every race you were in Tom managed to beat and steal your thunder; you managed to lose half off your fan base because of the amount of losses you had and they all migrated to Toms side which he decided to call them his ‘Girlfriends’ stupid name I know and rumour has it that he hooks up with his fans as an ‘extra reward’ how infuriating could he get.

He also liked to piss you off at any chance; embarrassing you in front of his fans and your own, calling you names and laughing at your faults every time you thought no one was watching, you were fucking sick off him.

“I can’t fucking stand him” you voiced out to your home girl on the phone as you worked on the engine of your car. “I know babe you’ve voiced this out every time you call me”

“Well you can understand why though; he took my place as the best driver in LA, stole basically all of my fans and practically doesn’t stop to embarrass and shame me for not winning”

“Girl why don’t you just race him only to prove to him that you can beat him in a race” she suggests and your eyes lit up with excitement, “That’s it thanks Suki talk to you later”

The next time you see him is after the race and he beat you once again. You waltzed your way towards him as he was distracted by the multiple girls that crowded around him. “Kaulitz” you yell out and he turns around towering over you, “Come to congratulate me Y/N” he says with a slight smirk on his face.

“No but I’m here to challenge you to a race tomorrow night at 11pm at the old warehouse” the whole crowd make noises to the sudden call our as you cross your arms waiting for his response, “Bet it will be fun seeing you lose once again”

“We’ll see about that Kaulitz” you reply and he steps towards you, his mouth moving to your ear “I’ll see you tomorrow night when you lose once again to me” you wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face as you turn around, walking back to the direction of your car with a sway of your hips.

The next day you made sure you looked your best, you wore a tight purple dress that reached your thighs and knee high boots with a pair of purple sunglasses. You applied a thin layer of lipgloss and get into your car watching the time approach 11pm. You drove your way to the meet up spot and it was busier than usual, your fans and his fans in one spot as you parked at your designated area.

You spot suki and devante and give them a slight wave and as usual Tom was late, his black Mazda pulling in and parking next to you. You could sense his eyes on you as you turn to face him, he throws you a wink and you roll your eyes fixing your rearview mirror. “Good luck” Suki shouts from the crowd sending a heart your way and you pretend to catch it sending one back.

The two girls stand in front of you once again, waving their flags in a mannered fashion counting down from three before hitting one and wave their flags downwards and you take off. Both of you were out for blood, refusing to stand down without a fight. Your hand stayed on the stick shift as the other was on the steering wheel, the cold breeze blew into your car as the sounds of the exhausts echoed into the night sky. Tom looked at you with a grin and you wondered what he was thinking.

He sped up and cut you off from turning the corner nearly making you spin out of control into the street lamp in front of you. “That fucker” you screamed and you pressed your foot on the accelerator gaining speed until you we’re neck to neck with him and you turn to face him, “Pull over now” you yell signalling go the side of the road, he seems to catch on and follows you onto the side of the road, parking behind you.

You get out of the car and march towards his car, knocking on his window and he reluctantly rolls it down, “What the fuck is your problem you cut me off back there and I nearly hit a street lamp”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about princess maybe racing isn’t cut out for women like you”

“What the fuck do you mean by it isn’t cut out for women like me” you question,

“You know exactly what I mean I don’t need to repeat myself” your fists were clenched and you were getting irritated by the minute and that surfaced heat felt like it needed to be let out instead of being bottled up.

“You know what fuck you Tom you think your such a fucking know it all showing off whenever you get the chance, you and your stupid car should’ve stayed in Germany you misogynistic prick” you sassed, pointing toward his car and him with every word.

“Oh Yeah is that how you feel about me” he reply’s, clearly amused by your response’s.

“Yeah that’s exactly how I feel and I’d appreciate if you would kindly listen and fuck off” he gets out his car slamming the door and he backs you up towards the back of his car.

“Or what princess what will you do if I don’t” he challenged, pressing a hand onto the rear end of his car.

You could feel it, the sexual tension was off the charts both refusing to stand down. You were Infuriated with him and it made you want to strangle him while the other half of you was annoyingly turned on by the argument you had spewed with him and you didn’t fail to notice his eyes flicker to your lips that were smeared with clear scented lipgloss and also don’t miss how he looks at the fat of your thighs and the way your dress hugs your body, showing off what you had to offer.

“I’ll make you” you say, pointing in his direction.

“Then make me princess”

You push him onto the side off his car and smash your lips against his, venting out the frustration and anger you felt towards him from the past few days. He moans in response, pulling on your hair as your noses bash against each other in the hungry kiss. You pull away and your lip gloss was smudged onto his lips and you giggle to yourself pointing to the back seat, “Get in the fucking car ”

“Don’t need to tell me twice” he replys,

You both climb into the back of his car, shutting the door behind you. You climb into his lap and your hands automatically cling to his shoulders and you begin grinding your clit into his pelvic bone creating a euphorical sensation as your hands went to press at his collar bone. You both touched and grabbed wherever you pleased not caring for the potential onlookers that could catch you both in the sinful act, “Fuck” he mutters, biting on your bottom lip as he helped you grind into him, using his hands.

His hands move to your ass, kneading it in both as he continued to grind into you in slow motions almost as if you were riding him. He curses feeling the wet spot of your arousal on top of his baggy jeans, you let out cute moans and whimpers as he left red love bites and markings across your neck, claiming you as his.

“Already soaking wet for me” he muttered bringing two fingers to brush against the fabric of your panties and your juices coat his fingers. He pushes your panties to the side and slides two fingers into you with intense eye contact, stroking his fingers every time with vulgar gestures. “Oh fuck”

Your fingers clench around his fingers as the squelchy sound of arousal filled the car. He watched how you lost yourself on his fingers, pumping them in and out as your legs began to shake. Your head fell back as he stroked your spot every time, “Shit” you curse and you come all over his fingers as he slowly came to a stop before pulling them out.

He brings his fingers to his mouth tasting you and he groans around them, “Taste so fucking sweet”

You were so turned on beyond recognition and you needed him to be inside you then and there. You unbutton his jeans and he helps you pull them off along with his boxers exposing his fully erect cock and immediately direct it to your opening, “Eager are we” he teased, watching as you sunk down on his length with a gasp. “So fucking tight…shit”

You collected yourself for a second before lifting up and sinking back down, a guttural moan emits from his mouth as you began riding him. You hated to admit that he was bigger and thicker than the others you had hooked up with in the past, it felt like with every bounce he was breaking you apart on his cock. “So…fucking big”

He watched you under his gaze, hands going to your hips as he grinded your clit into his hip bringing immense pleasure that you felt you would come that second by just a few thrusts. “You needed this dick didn’t you” he questioned and you moaned in response, hand tightening on the seat behind him. “Fuck yourself on my cock…just like that ”

You were fully bouncing on him, the car shaking and the windows fogging up as your hand fell onto the window leaving a hand print on it. His head rolled back, groaning at how tight you were almost like a vice gripping him with immense tightness. “How long have you thought about fucking me Y/N”

“For so- fucking long” you confess, you we’re in the moment this would be forgotten by tomorrow morning. “Yeah tell me how fucking good I’m making you”

“Mhmm-”

“Tell me”

“Your making me feel so fucking good” you admit, eyes rolling back as your orgasm neared. “I’m gonna cum all over you Tommy all over your fat cock” you moan out, sinking your teeth into the crook of his neck. “Wait I’m not done with yet” he stops you and rolls you both over so that your back is against the car seat and he hovered on top of you.

He began pounding into you, every thrust hitting that spongy spot inside, your voice box emitting raspy moans feeling your breath caught in your throat as tears began to form in your waterline. “Ohhhh-fuck” it was too much for you to handle, trying to escape his harsh pounding, “Don’t run away this is what you wanted…. right” he mocked bringing his hand to remove the top of your dress, exposing your tits.

He slapped one of them grunting as he felt himself get closer and closer, “Where do you want it- fuck” he asks and you open your eyes, “In me….cum inside of me” you scream, wrapping your arms around his back and bringing him into another kiss, tongues tangling and moans mixing. “Shit”

You finally cum, your body convulsing as your orgasm hit you like a brick. Toms pace never faltered chasing his own before releasing inside you with a grunt and you moan at the warm liquid filling you up. You were out of breath feeling the now newfound embarrassment of fucking someone you hated and avoided eye contact. “Don’t get shy on me look at me” he finally says, gently putting his hand onto your cheek and forcing you to look at him.

“No one ever said I was shy you just assumed it” you lie, huffing out. “Mhmm definitely believe you princess” your cheeks flutter at the nickname and you curse yourself, why were you all of a sudden shy around him it made you want to puke. “I’ll let you win the race”

“Wait what really” you say surprised, what was he getting at.

“I wouldn’t say this if i didn’t mean it you know I love to win a race”

You roll your eyes, “and what’s the catch”

“The catch is you have to let me take you out somewhere”

“And why would I willingly agree to that”

“Because you like me”

“Just cause we fucked don’t mean I like you idiot”

“Tell that to someone else sweetheart don’t think I didn’t catch the way you reacted to me calling you princess earlier”

“Fuck off” you reply with playful hit on his chest,

“Admit it”

“A girl never spills her secret but I agree to your stupid date because I want to win”

“Mhmm keep telling yourself that”

He gives you one more kiss before you both get dressed and you cringe at the feeling of his cum falling down your leg. “Race you there loser” you mimic him from earlier and you get into your car, taking off towards the finish line.

Of course you came first place and your fans cheered like crazy congratulating you as you thanked everyone. Tom pulled up next to you and he gives you a knowing look as he walks toward his friends and you walk towards Suki giving her a hug. “Congrats Y/N what does it feel like to be LA’s winner in the first time in 4 weeks” she says pushing a fake microphone towards your lips, “Feels fucking amazing that’s what it feels like” your eyes gravitate to Tom and he was already looking at you, sending a wink in your direction.

“Definitely feels amazing”

#tom kaulitz x black reader #reader #black reader #tom kaulitz x reader #smut #x black fem reader #tom kaulitz smut #black reader smut #tom kaulitz #leiswxrld #leiscoven

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spoiled-fawn · 8 months

Text

Meeting Johnny

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 2,726 CW: None

AN: I'm alive! Sorry this is so short, this was a good stopping point and I need to work on my world-building for Soap before getting to the next part. Just know- I haven't given up on this AU (It's literally my firstborn, blood, and soul, but I will be a bit slow until my brain juices stay flowing. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the Introduction for the explanation and precursors to the scene.

Introduction, Biography

--------

Johnny’s proposal to you was quick in terms of a few letters exchanged; three letters in, he invited you to come out and sent you enough money to figure out accommodations to get to him. As soon as you read those words at the post office, you ran home high on endorphins and adrenaline began packing your bags without grandiose care in the world. The fire inside you licked at the bottom of your heart, anger at staying in this shithole for far too long and feeling a sense of belonging- the sense of feeling wanted to make you have an ulterior purpose in life as if a phoenix reborn and spreading its wings while nose-diving into the unknown. When your parents came home as you zipped your bags, you sincerely couldn’t give a flying fuck as you shoved past them and began berating your parents with a grand show of a public yelling match for the neighbors to hear.

Good for you!

You had already planned how to get to him after receiving his first letter back; First step, buying a train ticket that led you to Santa Fe, New Mexico. From there, you had to embark on the Gila Trail, before having to buy your horse and head out on the San Diego Crossings wagon road by yourself.

This trip was a long haul, and you prayed that Johnny would trust in your quickly established faith to wait out for you. The promise of a strong and loving man is all you could think about...

While in your adrenaline-filled escape, you hadn’t plucked the book in your room that hid his photo as a bookmark, but thankfully had grabbed the letter that gave you his directions. While you scavenge your mind to have a solid image of him, you think over his features and re-read the letters countless times.

Johnny has a background of all sorts, having grown up in a family that held their bond strong, especially after his father had passed in a mining cave-in, which rendered him the man of the house from a young age. Even in his brief telling of these events, you could tell he’s moved out to California to find a deeper meaning of himself, create the line in concrete for it to harden as he ages.

That isn’t to say that he has lost his sense of boyishness, not at all in fact. His stories that he wrote even contained small doodles along the borders to better depict what he was writing about, and it was half your mind to cut them out and keep them as little bookmarks or place them in your wallet as a keepsake. He was playful, writing jokes about the smallest things, even letting you in on some secrets about the people in his town before you got there.

While the sense of his flame burned hot in multiple directions, deep in his hearth was a passionate man. Just as he seemed so sweet, with a flick of his wrist the writing would turn into something hot enough to make you blush, averting your eyes as your mind ran wild with his thoughts. He seems to enjoy a bubble bath… but maybe only when you’re in it with him. Even writing about the future and him stating he wants a family by any means, you could only imagine a deep possessiveness inside of him to claim you as such. Even if you were able to have his biological children or not, he’d still make sure you felt like you did.

But back to your journey.

The course of the trains provided you an oversight of the new lands you had yet to ever see, as it was the beginning stages of territories turning into states. The rides were long, and adjusting to the set time zones was a large throw-off to your circadian rhythm. Having already traveled two states west, it was difficult to decide on which line would grant you the fastest access to Johnny. Luckily enough, a kind person in the Denver station helped point out that taking the route from northern Nevadah into California would grant you the fastest time, and ease your solo traveling.

The kind person stated that they were in a similar situation and now waiting for the train, having a bit of time to offer some advice while making it toward their end goal. Thanking them with bountiful wishes and good luck’s in their journey, you were on your way.

It took four more days to find yourself in Temecula, California. An astonishing change from the desert lands that reflected the sun so brightly now showed the capabilities of a plush environment of greenery and clouds. The train station was reached as the sunlight began pouring in over the mountains; being quick on your feet, and from the other settlers being far too tired, you found a deal on the last remaining horse available.

Traveling by horseback prompted challenges with reading Johnny's directions, and you did not want to admit that you were lost. The lack of directory and signage left you getting flustered already by noon and being left alone in such a rural area in between towns felt far more daunting than any part of this trip. Passing by stagecoaches who all seemed to know their way around, you filed in line through a secondary road filled with houses in the valley of the small mountains.

Three hours later and a small urge to cry while having given up on re-reading the letter, you accepted defeat when you saw someone sitting on their porch down a dirt road with his house being the only one there.

“Hi! Excuse me, sir?” The sound of your voice breaks through the stillness of the settling valley, enough to make the man look up from the table he is currently hunched over.

“Would you mind helping me out by giving me directions?” Willing yourself to not blush or shrink into your large coat, embarrassment running through your chest while in the new environment.

For a moment, the man doesn't seem to acknowledge you, having to do a double take before his eyes widen in surprise. The toothpick that was delicately hanging on his lip falls to the ground, less he even notices before he sits up straight readjusting his hat, and clears his throat.

“‘Course, my dear. How can I be of service.” His accent is rich, leading you to believe that he’s been raised in the West, and has a perfectly smooth twang to his speech as it leaves his side smile.

“I’m looking for the country store… There’s supposed to be an old Coke sign on it.” The words leave you in a higher pitch than you’d normally speak, having a handsome stranger stare at you with a wide-eyed stare as he watches your lips move. “And to be honest- I wouldn’t know if I’m in the right place to begin with.”

As if snapped back to reality again, eye contact cut short as he blinks before looking down the road and then back to you. “Ah, store’ way down yonder with a crossing sign. If yer’ headed west then a left will take you to the interstate,” A nod confirms his sense of confidence in his directions, explaining it plain and simple as the roads that his house lies on.

The smile that crosses your face lights your eyes, and it's the most relief you’ve gotten ever since getting on horseback. “Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” Your hands pull on the reigns of the horse, already turning around to try and beat sunset before it's too dark to ride alone.

Before you’re out of earshot, “When you’re in, you gotta stop and ask Ms. Bell for somma’ her sweet tea. But remember, take a right, and you’ll end up right back here to me.” The wink that leaves him makes you question if you’re seeing things in the late light of the day, but you’re sure he can see the blush that burns your cheeks.

A laugh leaves you before nodding in response, now clicking your horse into a quick trot while you’re high on the adrenaline from the interaction. Well… at least you have a backup plan in case your bachelor doesn't work out.

Arriving far too quickly than you’d expect, the store was only a few minutes down the road and concealed by a line of trees. Hitching your horse and walking into the store on stiff legs, you plan on following the stranger's advice to get some sweet tea.

The bell above the door jingles as you walk in, catching the attention of the older woman behind the counter. Here eyes take in your form, surprised such a fresh-faced person has arrived this late into the day. “How can I help you, sweetheart?” Her voice rings out a bit rough, someone who knows how to pull her weight if trouble would arrive.

“I’m actually looking to get to someone's home near town, but I was told to make my way from this store to not get lost.” A pause as your eyes take in the scenery of the rustic store; A layer of dust settled onto the wooden floors as shelves are stocked with an assortment of canned goods, spices, and a few refrigerators labeled as eggs and milk. “Met a stranger on the way and was told I should get some sweet tea here, too.”

Her eyes, still studying you as you speak and noting your accent, or lack thereof, bring a small quirk to her face. “Well, lemme get you some of my tea while you get yourself found.” Leaving her seat she makes her way to a wall in the back, pulling out two large mason jars with a light brown liquid.

“That stranger you met- was he small ways up north fr’mere?” The smile on her face grows as she walks back to her seat at the register as you walk forward to meet her.

“Yes… A lone house down a single road. Blue eyes, brown hair, and some stubble.” The answer is pulled from you automatically, reciting the mental image of him.

“Toothpick in his mouth?”

The question is almost absurd in how spot-on she is, but then again this is a very small town. “Yes.”

The answer makes her laugh, somewhat un-ladylike when compared to the women from your home, and the noise makes you startle in place for a second.

“That damn Johnny makes me work my ass off to keep this tea in stock. He’s been so stressed waiting for his person to come ‘nd has been drinking me straight out of this stuff.” She levels when calming down for a moment, now placing the jars in bags.

She has yet to look back up at you and fails to notice your limbs seemingly frozen in place as the air leaves your lungs. That was Johnny?

“I’m so sorry ma’am. Did you say that was Johnny? As in MacTavish?”

The rustle of the brown paper bags stops, her eyes darting up to find yours. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She murmurs lowly before a sly smile takes over her face. “You’re here, and you’re damned too good from what you made yourself out to be, sweetheart.”

Still frozen with your mind reeling, adrenaline begins to pump back into your bloodstream while a jolt alights your muscles. “Oh- I’m so sorry ma’am, I must get going its getting late and-”

The sliding of the jars on her counter interrupts your rambling, “Ah ah, its Ms. Bell dear, and you best be taking this with you to him. Don’t worry bout nothin’ but I’m happy to welcome you to the town.”

If you looked now, you could notice the tremor in your hands. Nodding and taking the bag, a rush of endless ‘thank you’s’ and an elated smile seats itself permanently before loading the bags on the saddle and turning back around to start galloping forward back towards where you once were.

—

The sound of horses and wagons isn’t a constant to Santa Ysabel during the night hours, usually only occurring after the dayshift ends. As Johnny sits on his porch, his mind muddled with confusion as he stews over his soon-to-be partner arrives, thoughts of the stranger asking for directions makes him confused.

Fresh toothpick in his mouth as he widdles away at a bar of tallow, working to pull off glycerine for work. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence, right? The picture you sent was muddled down with water stains, and he blamed it on the damn train that sent your envelopes out this way. It was beginning sunset, and though he couldn't make out most of your features because of the coat you concealed yourself in-

The bar of soap drops to the ground and he curses, now jumping out of his mind and into the present.

The sound of hooves beating and approaching make him look up.

There, Here, you’re back again and the whites of your teeth are illuminated by the fading sun to show your smile.

Slowing down your horse to a stop, breathing in a slight pant as compared to your horses, the smile never leaves you.

“Figure you need some more directions, sweetheart?” His drawl leaves him, standing to make his way towards you.

“Take off your hat.” The response is curt, and demanding in a way, but that glimmer of excitement makes it sound so sweet.

Johnny himself is befuddled for a moment, eyebrow cocked but complies anyway. Now raising the hat off of his head and holding it to his chest, his eyes answer for him. This what you wanted?

A small sound of excitement leaves you, nodding before your leg swings over your saddle, dismounting with a small jump and walking forward.

“Johnny, it's me.”

A swear leaves his mouth, accompanied by a rush of air before he drops his hat to the side and plucks hit toothpick out with it. The smile that coats his face makes him appear so young and boyish at heart as he moves forward with arms open to wrap around your hips with a low growl, “C’mere you,”

You could be embarrassed by the small squeal that leaves you, but you couldn’t give a rat's ass on anything right now. He spins you around for a quick moment, arms around your body as he lifts you easily with his strength.

Staring down into his eyes, you grab a shoulder while the other hand cups his jaw. “Didn’t know it was you until Ms. Bell said something.”

He laughs, head tilting back in bewilderment at the situation and excitement. “Talkin bout her sweet tea?” He asks while setting you down on your feet, hands never straying as he pulls you against him and traverses over your body.

“Yes, gave me some to bring home.”

The use of home sparks his heart with a bright thrum, butterflies encasing his stomach while he rumbles out a laugh. The texture of his hands is both soft and ruff, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones before one hand moves to brush over your hair, cupping the back of your neck.

“Well, in that case, welcome home, sweety.” The rumble sends a shiver down your spine, eyes darting over his face before settling on his lips. A breath settles before you look back into his sharp blue eyes, as he looks at you seemingly waiting for permission.

A small nod of your head and gently pulling him towards you, the band on the back of your head pulls you forward as he brings your lips together. The taste of him has a spice to it, the favor of cinnamon cotes his lips and brings a slow burn over yours while his body’s warmth brings another wave.

The stubble of his beard rubs your face- and it's a welcome feeling as compared to the winds of the valleys whipping past you. Something you’d gladly leave your skin bright red and raw from hours of the feeling.

Before growing too heated, you part with a small gasp and trail him slightly before blinking to find his smirk growing as a low rumble vibrates against you. “Let's get you settled in, then we can celebrate s’more.”

--------

[Who do you all think the reader met at the train station? If you get the song reference for their meeting you get two gold stars! I hope yall enjoy.]

#cod mw2 #task force 141 #call of duty #tf141 #call of duty modern warfare #captain john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #tf141 x reader #john mactavish

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ilguna · 2 years

Text

☼ trick question pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick admitted you were his celebrity crush in his last interview, this year, he has something to reveal.

warnings; swearing

wc; 1.9k

part two

–

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have the up and coming model from California joining us today!” Caesar Flickerman shouts with a wide grin on his face, hand extended out in the direction of Finnick, “Finnick Odair!”

Finnick takes the steps one at a time, being careful as to not let his dress shoes get caught on the carpet. He’s watched Caesar’s show plenty of times before, and he’s seen plenty of other people make the mistake of dragging their feet. All it takes is the top of the brand new shoe and you’ll trip.

Finnick smiles brightly, waving at the live audience. There’s only one stray whistle that comes from an audience member in the back. From what he remembers from the last time he was on the show, there shouldn’t be any loud noises in order to prevent the sensitive microphones from blowing. The fan should be let off easily.

“Welcome back!” Caesar says, Finnick extends his hand.

“It’s great to be back, Caesar.” They shake hands, and then Finnick settles on the couch, “I thought that the last time I was here would be the only time.”

“Why’s that?”

Finnick makes a face, “I didn’t think I’d be popular enough.”

“Well, congratulations on being popular.” He laughs, sitting in his chair, crossing a leg, “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Oh great.” Finnick muses, “We should get started then.”

“Yes, I wanna ask you about your latest experience with fashion. You’ve been doing a lot of shows recently, especially with the fashion designer Cinna.” Caesar becomes more serious, “What’s it like working with him?”

Finnick nods, “Cinna’s brilliant, really. I’m lucky to wear more of his tame ideas, rather than the bright and shiny ones.”

“Yes, because we all know how Cashmere and Gloss feel about them!” He laughs, “I do have a question, since you work very closely with other models. How is the young Katniss Everdeen? Is she adjusting well? I heard that the flammable piece was almost a break for her.”

“I can’t say, exactly. I wasn’t present for the conversation between her and Cinna. I did hear from their contract manager that she was looking into other stylists if they couldn’t accommodate her.” Finnick tilts his head, “Since she is—as you said—young, she’s very careful about how she approaches revealing her body.”

“That’s right, those contracts can be very demanding.” Caesar agrees, “I remember you telling me that it almost cost you your job to ask for different clothes.”

“I’m very lucky that I have wonderful friends that would take the fall for me like that, even if the outfits aren’t designed for their body types.” Finnick nods, “As unfortunate as it is for the stylists to have their clothes stretched, it’s not worth a model's discomfort. I did explicitly say that I wasn’t comfortable exposing my body.”

Caesar nods, “Would you have worn that second flame piece if Cinna had asked you?”

Finnick lets out a laugh, “Well, Peeta and I are two different sizes. It surely would’ve been uncomfortable to wear. However, if he had told me that he couldn’t do it, I would’ve tried to make it work.”

“Peeta and Katniss are very lucky to know you.”

“I’m lucky to know them.”

Caesar tilts his head, “While we’re on the topic, I heard that you and Johanna Mason are working on your own line.”

Finnick tries to hide his smile. He’s been asked about it in every interview under the sun lately. They don’t know what the line is, and neither him nor Johanna are planning to release it to the public just yet. They’re working on a beauty line that’ll cover most of the bases. Finnick wants to cover skincare, and Johanna wants natural dyes for hair so it’s less damaging, since she changes her hair color often.

“We’re working on something, yes.”

Caesar raises his eyebrows, “Are you open to discussing any detail about it?”

“It won’t surprise the public when it does come out. That’s all I’ll be saying as of right now. Johanna likes to keep her projects secret, and I’m not trying to get on her bad side.” Finnick laughs, Caesar joins in.

“That’s fair, okay.” There’s a mischievous smile that crosses Caesar’s face, “Do you remember the last time you were here and I asked you about your celebrity crush?”

Finnick lets out an audible sigh, he can feel the heat returning to his face. He doesn’t know how Caesar has such a way with words, but he managed to get Finnick to admit who he likes in front of a live audience. Which then proceeded to trend on Twitter, and then further get the attention of the girl that he’s liked for a while now.

“Don’t remind me.”

“I will be, actually.” Caesar laughs, “Remind me, who is it?”

“Do we have to do this, Caesar?” Finnick chuckles, but complys, “Her name is (Y/n) (L/n).”

“And what is she known for?”

It’s a good thing that Finnick knows where he’s going with this, “For those of you at home and in the audience that don’t know who (Y/n) is, she’s an actress. Show them what she looks like, Caesar.”

He laughs, and the screen behind him changes to be a picture of you from the red carpet a month ago for a premiere. There’s a pretty smile on your face and your body is halfway turned to give them the illusion that you were going to walk away, but it was just a pose that most do.

Caesar clears his throat, “Everyone, (Y/n) plays a number of characters across tv shows and movies alike. She has a liking for the darker themes, and she leans towards apocalyptic and dystopian movies the most, and shows that have repeating criminal activity that centers around the character.”

Finnick nods, rubbing his neck, “She normally plays the gruesome characters and she does it beautifully, alright?”

There’s a few laughs, Caesar raises his eyebrows, “What about her do you like, Finnick? Be more specific.”

Finnick rolls his eyes, “I said that she captivates me every time she’s on screen. She’s a wonderful actress and I find myself being pulled in with the story.”

“But only for her, right?” Caesar teases, “Not for someone as handsome as Beetee Latier?”

“I’m sure Beetee is also an amazing actor, but we’re talking about (Y/n).”

“That we are. I saw a number of tweets of hers from the last time you were here.” Caesar laughs, as the screen behind him changes to be the screenshots they took of the interaction.

Finnick shakes his head, “Don’t do this.”

“We’re doing this. Ladies and gentlemen, it seems to me that (Y/n) had a lot to say.” Caesar flicks through the screenshots. It’s mostly of you replying to other people talking about the interview that took place last year. The slideshow quickens, “A lot. But from what my crew gathered, she was very flattered.”

“Very. What can I say? I’m a flattering man.” Finnick smiles.

“So flattering that you somehow managed to get her phone number.” Caesar raises his eyebrows, “Can I tell them?”

Finnick motions, “Well you’ve basically told them already.”

Caesar turns suddenly, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Finnick and (Y/n) became official. I want everyone to give a big welcome to (Y/n)!”

You peek your head out from behind the curtain with a scrunched nose. You follow Finnick’s directions from earlier, warning you about tripping on the carpet, especially in these heels. You’re sure to lift your feet and walk carefully. Caesar and Finnick are now on their feet.

You hug Caesar slightly, give a wave to the audience, and then turn to Finnick. He knows that he can’t touch your face, he’s got in the bad habit of doing it lately, and it’s been hard to break him out of it. You wish it wasn’t that easy to ruin your makeup, but there’s not much you can do.

You press a kiss to Finnick’s lips, and pull away giggling when the audience cheers louder. Finnick sits, and watches you carefully as you tuck the dress under you, turning your legs to the side so that your knees almost touch Finnick’s legs. The worst part about wearing a dress is sitting down.

Finnick takes your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“(Y/n), I believe this is the first time we’re meeting.” Caesar says.

“With the exception of backstage, I’d say so too.” You laugh, they do too.

“Tell me, what was it like meeting Finnick for the first time in person?”

You tilt your head, “He’s a gentleman through and through. I could’ve asked for the world on that first date and it was clear to me that he would’ve found a way to do it.”

“And you didn’t ask for the world?”

“I decided to save that for the second date.”

“What was it like hearing that Finnick had a crush on you?”

You make a face, “Weird, if I’m honest. He’s a celebrity in the modeling world. I’m a celebrity in the acting world. It’s almost as if we shouldn’t collide, and yet we’re still here. You can see weird couples all across the Capitol, it’s really something else.”

“That’s very true.” Caesar agrees, “Someone told me that you were trying to get Finnick into acting.”

“Yes, I am.” You give a look to Finnick. He’s already shaking his head, “He thinks I’m lying when I say that he has potential. I think he could be phenomenal outside of modeling if he wanted to. If he decided that he didn’t like acting, modeling will still be there for him.”

“You think that Cinna would allow him to come back?” Caesar asks curiously.

“I’ve talked to Cinna on a couple of occasions. He’s a very understanding man, and he would do a lot for his models, including letting them come back from a break. For a lot of other companies, it’s a one-and-done sort of deal. Finnick’s fortunate that he has Cinna.”

“What do you think about acting, Finnick?”

“The idea’s growing on me, I’ll admit.” Finnick smiles, “I don’t think I’ll feel comfortable doing it if (Y/n) isn’t beside me to help, but it’s hard getting a job beside her because they’re looking for a certain level of expertise.”

“And that’s true, but a lot of actors and actresses get weird roles all the time. I’m a good example of that. I was told when I first joined the industry that I’d never get the gory roles, and now those are all I get.”

“Out of spite, I presume?”

“Partially.” You laugh, “But also because I set my mind to it. That’s why I believe Finnick can do it too.”

Finnick softly smiles at you, “I love your confidence in me, but I’m not feeling the same way.”

You shake your head at Finnick.

“Well, I think it’s about time we took a break.” Caesar says, you and Finnick nod. Caesar turns to face the camera, “When we come back, we’ll discuss (Y/n)’s brief experience with modeling and why she chose not to go on. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x yn #thg #the hunger games #requested #fluff

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thefixations-ofmine · 2 months

Text

You Set Me Ablaze - Chapter 1 : Initial Landing

Pairing: Park Ranger!Evan Buckley x Air Ops!Tommy Kinard Word count: 4k Warnings: Blow job, hand job, semi public, stuff in a helicopter, pet names, come play

Summary: Tommy and the guys from Harbor rent a cabin in a California Parks campground some hours north of Los Angeles. He's hoping to enjoy the time off and participate in engaging team-building activities. Little does he know a blue-eyes boy would be occupying most of his schedule. / Evan is a new park ranger with high hopes to become employee of the month. He didn't expect to have his brain scrambled by the hot helicopter pilot when he picked up their file on his morning chores run. He hopes that his services will grant him a good review.

A/N: I had initially wanted to make a single long fic with this, but I keep getting ideas and I like where this part ends so this will be part 1 of maybe 3.

Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist | AO3

“Thank you for the walkthrough, Ranger Buckley.” Bennet shakes his hand with a truthful smile, and places his bag on the first bed by the door. The young man gleams at the acknowledgement of his good work, his baby blues nearly hidden from his stretched smile. Tommy takes note of the little quirks in his composure as he’s secretly checking them out; his favourite was seeing how white his knuckles turned around the clipboard when their captain started taking his uniform off. Ranger Buckley was standing there, unaware that he was being ogled himself by the beefy man just out of his eyesight. But then he turned in his direction and Tommy swears the kid’s smile sparkled like those toothpaste commercials.

“Pleasure’s all mine gentlemen,” Buck answers, diverting his attention back to the group - not before eyeing Tommy up and down. He turns on a radio and sets it on the wooden desk by the door, where books and maps are scattered. Most had started fading from the sun rays over the years - Tommy would argue that some might actually date back from before Buck was born. The thought of that gap fueled his wicked mind. “If you need assistance, simply call me over the CB. Use ‘Buck’, you’ll get my attention faster,” he adds with a chuckle, taking a step back to exit the door after his note. Tommy’s stomach knots at the sight of him leaving.

“Buck? Like a deer?” Riley half-jokes, but everyone sees the double entendre. Buck has googly blue eyes, and a soft grin. Plus he works in a forest. Has freckles. His hair is god damn fawn-coloured for crying out loud! Add all this to his ungodly long legs, and the man is quite literally the incarnation of Bambi. He must have caught up on the joke, because crimson is slowly creeping up his chest and cheeks. Tommy takes another mental note of that marvelous sight.

“Um, well-” he exhales a nervous laugh. Yeah, Tommy is so done for. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, no. I should put that on a mug!” He knocks twice on the door frame with his index knuckle and turns to head back to the main building. Tommy admires his backside as he’s walking away, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to remember every little detail of his body as if he needed more reasons to obsess over the poor guy. He’s running so many scenarios in his mind and he knows he has to come out of his bubble in the next seconds, and then:

“Buck? Hold on!” He reaches the ranger’s side in a few strides.

“Evan,” the younger man says first. “Please call me Evan.” Fuck, that would be delicious to moan.

“Evan.” Tommy’s body is now slowly changing colours too. He can feel his fingers tingling and his breath quickening. Suddenly, he forgets why he’s even standing here in the brisk evening air, swinging nervously on the balls of his feet. Evan tilts his head, silently waiting for him to come to.

“Are you okay, sir?” Evan eventually asks, pulling Tommy out of his trance with a shiver running down his spine. He’s gotta wiggle his leg to adjust his… growing problem.

“Yeah,” he manages to whisper. “I actually wanted to ask.” He rubs his hands onto his jeans, and licks his lips. You got this, he tells himself. You’ve been to war!

“I’m not a morning person, but I was thinking, maybe I could take you on a chopper tour over the park tomorrow?” The words come out without pause. He smiles, or tries to, as he realises he’s showing way too much teeth - he doesn’t know Evan is currently melting inside at his crinkly nose. When Evan’s mouth opens without a sound, panic sets in and he curses himself for reading this all wrong. “No pressure! I mean, I’m sure you’ve alread-”

“Yes!” Evan finds himself answering with enthusiasm.

“Yes?”

“I would love to. I haven’t had the chance to do this yet. We were thinking of offering the service for guests, but it’s quite difficult to get permits, and those things are expensive!” He stops to take a deep breath, and keeps going. Tommy listens to Evan ramble about the Park’s plans of expansion; watching his hand motions, his eyes grow big with passion, and overall studying him. He leisurely makes paths of where he wants to drag his hands first, then his mouth, and then Tommy has to stop thinking or a leg shake will not cut it.

“It’s settled then,” Tommy says. “After breakfast? I’ll pick you up at the front desk?”

“Sure thing, I’ll be done checking people in by ten,” Evan confirms.

“As long as you’re not checking them out too much,” Tommy teases with a wink and is pleased when the joke is received with a cute laugh. He amicably grabs Evans shoulder, maybe a second too long but Evan doesn’t pull back - Tommy lingers, trying his best to feel the hard muscles under his touch, a big contrast from the usually smaller, twinkier men he’s attracted before. He wonders how rough he could be with Evan…

“I’m Tommy, by the way” he states with urgency. He’s then confused by the chuckle that comes out of Evan.

“I figured,” he says, pointing to Tommy’s embroidered name on his uniform shirt. Smart. Evan returns the innocent touch and, finally, walks away.

***

Evan is up far too early considering the first check-in isn’t before eight. But as soon as the sun hit his face, which was probably around five thirty, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind quiet. There was a moment where he panicked over what to wear, as if he didn’t have a uniform to put on. As if this was an actual date and he was reading too much into it. Tommy was just being nice. He did try to choose the best pieces though; beige cargo shorts, to show the killer calves, a soft and adjusted white t-shirt, sadly covered by his olive green work shirt - he can take the shirt off later, he notes - and lastly his favourite California flag cap. When he is satisfied with the reflection in the mirror, he dumps the rest of his coffee in his insulated mug and heads to work.

It’s around seven when he makes it to the main building, so he’ll have plenty of time to check down some tasks before welcoming guests. He parks his quad by the back where they keep the extra fire logs, and he gets startled by approaching footsteps.

“Morning, Evan.” An oddly familiar voice greets him. It’s slightly more rough though, tired, adding to the morning air shivers that are running on his skin. He turns around, and closing in on him is Tommy, the tall, broad, handsome pilot. He’s wearing long, black, fitted jeans and a grey hoodie. Phenomenal. The dirty Timbs are a bonus, but he will keep that thought for later.

“Hi, Tommy,” he chimes. The smile that comes his way warms his body back up. He checks his watch: “So much for not being a morning person.” He gets another crinkly smile.

“Sorry if I was off, last night,” Tommy begins. “I was tired and the guys had been dumbasses all day. To be honest I was baffled when I saw you and my brain just… combusted.”

“Baffled?” There’s a bit of confusion in Evan’s voice. He sees Tommy’s expression change, as he realizes the implication of the word, and he replies;

“Oh, gosh. No, I didn’t mean it like…” Tommy rubs his face, thinking. “I didn’t mean it badly. All I meant was that I usually have a good, um, radar. And I didn’t want to overstep while you were working. I didn’t really know which foot to dance on for a minute.”

“Radar?” Evan questions, but he’s being playful now. He knows. He knows that Tommy knows. But he also will not give him what he wants right away. He wants to hear the adonis before him say it out loud. There’s a sparkle in Tommy’s Gatorade blue eyes, he’s got him hooked.

“I, well. I guess I just outed my intentions here.” Tommy takes his hands out of his pockets and seems to relax some more. He even reaches for the hem of Evan’s shirt and toys with it. “You’re cute. Like really cute. And I panicked last night and I try not to be too cutesy in front of my coworkers, so… I just wanted to have a moment with you where I could actually not be a total mess.” Evan gets it. He gets it too well, and he just wants to hug him and say it’s alright and-

“It’s alright Tommy. I-I can’t let that show either while I’m at work. I’m out, but it’s still… not the most comfortable thing to display,” he adds with a half-smile. “If only you knew how hot you were when you got down from that chopper yesterday.” He takes a step closer, rubbing the back of his index finger over Tommy’s forearm. “When you reached for my shoulder last night, I could barely keep my knees in check, but I didn’t want to act on it and be a fool. So we’re even, I guess, for both holding back.” The fucker winks, bringing Tommy’s eyes to his birthmark. His hand is still roaming, tracing the valley of Tommy’s bicep while Tommy’s has settled comfortably on Evan’s hip.

“What if I had lost control and kissed you last night? Would that have scared you off?” He’s being flirted with, and Evan would be damned to cut this off. The way Tommy looks at his lips, and then back into his soul as he waits for an answer has his nape itching with need. It doesn’t help that he’s so close they are currently sharing oxygen.

“A-are you joking? I would have most likely messed up my pants.”

Tommy laughs, and Evan joins him, but he takes an abrupt step back when the truck of his colleague turns onto the driveway. He smiles, and excuses himself before getting to his tasks. Tommy confirms he’ll be back at ten, and goes on for a stroll around the trails. Evan will find a better opportunity to tell Tommy he’s actually bisexual, if that even matters for the moment.

***

It’s ten a.m. on the dot when the bells on the door jingle and Tommy walks into the main building. It’s a typical forest lodge; everything that can be made out of wood has been carved with skillful hands, and signature paintings from local artists decorate the walls. There’s a faint smell of incense burning and a distant rumble of guests in the lounge area. He’s surprised there aren’t any animal-head trophies displayed anywhere, though he doesn’t care for them.

“See anything you like?” Evan’s sweet voice interrupts. He’s still behind the counter, and Tommy appreciates the distance for now, because if Evan was taking off his shirt and looking at him through hooded eyes within arms reach, he’d be burying his hands in the poor boy’s locks and making a fool of himself in front of the lovely family sifting through the brochures.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Evan adds, walking around the counter with a small bag. “You’re staring, sir.” He teases and it’s only when his hand lands on Tommy’s chest that he comes back to himself.

“I, um. Sorry,” Tommy manages to whisper. He smiles then, and grabs Evan’s bag for him. “Please, let’s get out of here.” They both chuckle and head out to the backyard.

Tommy obviously walks about two feet behind Evan, watching the muscles of his back dance under the tight white undershirt. He allows his gaze to wander onto his lower back, then down his ass where the material of his shorts fold slightly under the bulb of it with each step. There, he thinks. That’s where I wanna dig my fingers. They reach the helicopter and Tommy hurries to open the door, desperate to be out of sight.

“So, did you catch all that”, Tommy asks after running Evan down the take-off, landing, and emergency procedures. He knows that he’s in control if anything were to happen, but he also noted Evan’s damp hand print on the side of the seat and how he took several deep breaths after buckling up. Calming down his nerves will be beneficial for him later. Evan nods with a smile and seems to adjust.

“I guess we’re getting off then!” Tommy winks.

The humming of the engine is quite relaxing and Evan tries to keep breathing through his nose until they're high enough and the scenery around him doesn’t seem to be moving extremely fast. His grip loosens around the edge of the seat, and he rubs the sweat that formed under them onto his shorts. They’re close enough that his elbow nudges Tommy’s arm in the process, gaining his attention.

“You okay, Evan?” Tommy asks, adding comfort through his voice.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” Tommy reaches to put his hand on his forearm and runs his thumb over - what Tommy doesn’t know - is a very sore muscle in need of attention. Evan manages to swallow the whine that threatens to rat him out. Little does he know the headset mics are very sensitive.

“Alright then, let’s see that side of the mountain first,” Tommy indicates and the chopper leans to the left, bringing Evan shoulder to shoulder with him. He relishes in the touch until they are sat up straight again.

“I can’t thank you enough for proposing to do this…” Evan adds, trying to keep his mind busy. But the hand on his arm is still lingering and he thanks the heavens above that Tommy is experienced enough to maneuver the stick single-handedly. The contact is burning through his skin and he feels himself filling up the last bit of room in his pants.

“Well, it’s my pleasure, trust me.” Tommy’s hand snakes along the top of Evan’s arm, reaching his wrist, and then lacing itself with his and he squeezes. “I have the dreamiest co-pilot.”

The air becomes thick and Evan wiggles in his seat to try and rub away at his current itch, but he reluctantly has to use his hand to pull at the material just enough for his dick to move into a better angle and not throb in pain. He pushes a sigh of relief, but Tommy’s hand lets go of him suddenly, leaving his stomach in a knot.

“You know,” Tommy starts. Evan doesn’t allow himself to look up from his empty hand until Tommy forces him by grabbing his chin. He doesn’t care that they’re several thousand feet in the air, he’ll stare into his eyes as long as Tommy doesn’t get tired of him. “Maybe there is a way for you to thank me properly for today.” There’s no hesitation in his voice, and Evan loves the direction this is taking.

“An- and, that is?” His voice is shaking - whiny.

Tommy chuckles and takes his hand back down onto him, not aiming for his arm. Before Evan knows it, Tommy is expertly looping the button of his cargos out of the loop and then rubs his hand along the inside of his thigh - his rings create a delicious sound against the ripples of the fabric. Evan shivers with his entire body. His hips have a mind of their own.

“I noticed you were having a little situation there,” he looks at Evan’s crotch, then back at his reddening face. Without breaking eye contact, he digs his hand into the front of Evan’s pants, cupping his entire semi and Evan salivates at the contact - his previous encounters had never engulfed him so easily, he starts leaking at the thought of Tommy’s deadly grip around him. But sadly: “Why don’t you show me what you’re working with, sweet boy,” Tommy adds, turning back to watch their surroundings while Evan proceeds to get himself situated.

Evant lets out a strangled moan as he pumps himself slowly, once and twice, and he’s hard and sensitive and toying with the pressure of his fingers around his tip to try and slow down his impending orgasm. It feels like his first time discovering that the appendage between his legs had nerve endings, and he’s gushing precome at an alarming rate.

“Good boy,” Tommy rasps between two peaks at Evan. His free hand sits on his own dick, not applying any pressure, just holding himself as if he was trying to keep a monster caged in. Not wanting to let it die, yet keeping the attention away from himself a little longer though the sight of Evan’s thick, curved dick would never stop the blood from rushing south. He realizes in vain how he put himself in a tough situation with his little game, but he’s good to keep this going a little longer.

“Tommy,” Evan whines. His cheeks are burning, there’s a sheen layer of sweat forming on his forehead. “Tommy.” This one is shy of a whisper. He keeps pumping and twisting and occasionally adding spit into the mix, his left hand knuckles are turning white as he desperately tries to hold himself onto the seat, his hips have slipped a few inches forward and his back is pushing into the seat every time he fucks into his hand.

“You look so good, baby. You wanna come for me?” Yes, yes, yes. Tommy thinks he heard Evan grunt into the mic, though his own thoughts have started to scramble from the pain between his legs. He expertly starts lowering them back to the pad as he catches a glimpse of Evan writhing on the seat next to him, and god he wishes he could have his mouth on him. Once he’s sure they landed safely, he lets go of the stick and turns towards Evan who’s long lost in the chase for his release - he doesn’t feel the movement or lack-there-of, until Tommy has his hand around his dick and is working him the last bit of the way. He feels a hot breath against his ear:

“Come for me baby, spill all over my hand.” With a couple more pulls and twists, and his hand pinching at his nipple, Evan comes into long, thick spurts onto Tommy’s hand, his own pants and shirt. His senses come back to him as he hears Tommy whisper sweet nothings into the side of his face, and Evan turns, not thinking twice before crashing his lips onto Tommy’s. It’s hungry, wet, and very much what Evan had wanted since the moment Tommy dragged his rugged body out of this chopper. He runs his hand into the dark curls at Tommy’s nape and elicits a strangled moan out of him. They break the kiss, foreheads leaning onto the other as they catch their breaths.

“See, now you messed up your pants before I even kissed you,” Tommy jokes, and kisses him once more, before pulling away to bring his hand to his mouth. He growls at the salty taste coating his tongue: one day he’s going to get it straight out of the tap. He sees the shiver running through Evan and he looks at the back of the chopper: “Would you like to return the favour?”

There are merely two minutes between the moment both their buckles are unfastened and when Tommy finds himself with his pants around his ankles and Evan kneeling in the small space between the rows of seats before him. The way Evan’s nose runs up the crease of his thigh as he inhales him in has his entire body slacking a bit. He hums in admiration and he feels his warm tongue roll onto his balls, before creeping its way up the underside of his dick. Evan sucks at the bead of precome and runs his pointed tongue into the slit.

“Fuck, baby,” Tommy moans, “run that tongue all over me.” And Evan obliges. He repeats the movement just enough times to feel the muscles of Tommy’s legs ripple under his arms. He takes Tommy into his mouth about halfway, and pulls back, and goes back down, and pulls back, until there’s a generous amount of saliva following his lips when he pops off. Tommy growls and grabs him by the chin, pulling him into a dirty kiss, tongues fighting dominance, before he lets go of him and motions for Evan to proceed. He brings his hands behind his head to recline a little, jutting his hips up enough to have his dick rub against the side of Evan’s face. They both chuckle quietly, and Evan gets back to the task at hand.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the challenge and the way the back of his throat burned at the stretch. He could pump him with two hands and still have room to fit his tip in his mouth. Evan had only been with women so far and a handful of - selfish - men who hadn’t really let him play with them before being fucked, so this is considerably the biggest, hardest thing he had ever put his mouth on. He’s already addicted to the taste, the ridges and curves and the pulses of Tommy’s veins everytime he exhales.

He deducts that his work is appreciated when he feels a sharp tug at his hair, and meets the dark eyes looking down at him. Tommy’s mouth is open and his breaths are staggered - Evan can’t help but run his hands up his stomach and chest as he tries his best to get his nose to the base of his cock. He gags, but holds on and Tommy licks his lips at the sight of the tears running down his face - that he swipes with his thumb and brings to his tongue with a devilish smirk. Evan moans around him, his renewed erection bobbing as he focuses on breathing and swallowing around Tommy.

“Baby, I’m-” Tommy begins, but has to focus as the simple thought of saying it out loud takes him near the edge. “Can I come in your pretty mouth?” There’s a simple nod, and Tommy loses it. He brings his hands on both sides of Evan’s face and starts fucking into him, just enough that he gets his rush but doesn’t have to stop to accommodate Evan. It’s only around five strokes before he feels his body tingle and his asshole start to spasm anyway.

“Evan,” he moans, the sound coming out like sweet honey as it rolls on his tongue. Yes, that does sound delicious. He pulls Evan’s head off him and takes himself in his other hand, pumping his tip and aiming onto the sweet boy’s waiting tongue. His body goes rigid and his head falls back until the first spurt comes out, and then he watches the next three coat Evan’s tongue and chin, before wiping his tip onto his top lip. He curses as he sees him swallow and lick at the excess around his mouth.

Evan bites his bottom lip and looks down at himself, hand coated in his own come that he had absentmindedly been rubbing out as Tommy was fucking his face. He chuckles, suddenly shy and when he looks up at Tommy, he simply raises his eyebrow at him and Evan goes on to lick his hand as well.

“Please tell me I can invite myself to your cabin tonight?” Tommy blurts and Evan chokes onto his come. They both laugh and Evan answers after a moment;

“You’ll have to wait until it’s dark,” he says, starting to put his clothes back to normal.

“I’d wait a month if you asked me to.”

Next chapter (wip)

#ronnie writes #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 fanfic #911 abc #bucktommy fanfic #tevan fic #bucktommy AU

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fairyniceyeah · 5 months

Text

⌛🐿️ Wash it away, oh, make it rain now

Title from MATZ (ATEEZ/MATZ)

Summary: Translation issues cause Hongjoong to eat something he has an intolerance to at Coachella and he needs Seonghwa to help him out of the public eye.

CW: emeto, kind of public emeto, medics, IVs

Sickie: Hongjoong Caretaker: Seonghwa

"We should get some food", Wooyoung mused, looking around at the other members.

He, Yunho, San, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were exploring the Coachella grounds together while Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho had decided to rest up a bit at their trailer in the backstage area of the festival. Their show yesterday, while fun, had been very tiring and nobody was surprised that the three of them wanted some peace and quiet.

"I'm hungry", San agreed, "no, hyung, don't you dare."

"Hi hungry, I'm Hongjoong", the captain quipped, though he was the only one finding it remotely funny.

"And you wonder why ATINY keep referring to you as the dad of the group", Wooyoung groaned, rolling his eyes and, just for funsies, decided that pushing Hongjoong hat into his face would be a great idea.

"I'm just living up to what they already expect", Hongjoong countered, not even bothered by the action, just adjusting his hat. He was used to much worse. "What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry, it’s too hot", Yunho mumbled, trailing behind the three of them with Seonghwa.

The eldest sighed and turned to look at him from where he had been busy waving at a group of fans. "Yunho-yah, I know you don't like the heat. But unless you think you are going to puke if you eat, you should get some nutrition into your body especially if you want to come to the concerts tonight. If you do think so, we should get you laying down in the shade."

"I'll be fine", Yunho groaned, fanning himself, "it's just so warm."

“It’s California”, San said, his voice a mix of teasing and concern, “what did you expect?”

“Less heat?”, Yunho said weakly, “fine, I guess something small can’t hurt.”

“Good, I was worried”, Seonghwa said.

“Also, this is why ATINY calls you mother”, San added onto the previous joke. Seonghwa just laughed and halfheartedly swatted at him.

It was Hongjoong’s turn to roll his eyes. The kids - uh, the younger members - really were a handful. So he decided to change the topic: “What do you feel like eating, Yunho-yah?”

“Something cold?”, Yunho suggested, “I don’t think I want hot food now.”

“Ice cream?”, Wooyoung suggested sneakily.

“Despite what ATINY thinks, you are not actually a child, so I am not going to stop you from eating ice cream for lunch. I am just going to say it’s a stupid idea”, Hongjoong remarked.

“Well, who is in?”, San asked, raising his hand in time with Wooyoung. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho sighed.

“What about these Açaí Bowls or whatever they are called?”, Hongjoong suggested, “I think they are cold. I never had them but always meant to try them.”

“As long as they are cold, I am in”, Yunho agreed and Seonghwa nodded.

After a quick talk with their managers and security team they split up to get their respective foods. Since all their English had significantly improved Hongjoong wasn’t worried at all about letting Wooyoung and San go off alone with some staff.

Luckily for Yunho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong the line for the food wasn’t so long so they managed to order pretty quickly. Not that Hongjoong was really sure what was in the bowls itself - the problem of short lines: no time to really translate food names which was still one of the harder things he struggled with - but they looked great and so the three of them decided to order three different versions to share.

As expected the food was pretty good and to their relief Yunho seemed to feel better after eating a good portion of the cold food. Maybe he really had only needed a cold drink, some sugar and most importantly the shade of the picnic table they were at. Wooyoung and San both had gotten huge orders of ice cream and Hongjoong couldn’t even fault them for it. All the food was so good.

⌛

Two hours later Hongjoong found himself at the VIP area of one of the stages, watching some artist he had forgotten the name of. Well, he had forgotten how the name was spelled and the pronunciation he had in mind didn’t make sense.

It didn’t matter, Seonghwa had wanted to go and so naturally Hongjoong had agreed to come. They had been joined by Mingi, Yunho and Jongho a few minutes ago, while WooSanSang were off somewhere else.

They were vibing to the music and Hongjoong could tell that the other members really enjoyed the set, as well as the staff that had joined them. While the staff, especially the managers and security, obviously had to stay with the members for the most part, they had managed to work out a schedule where the different staff members were able to see the sets they wanted to see. Hongjoong had only thought it fair when they had started to plan everything - for many of them it was their only chance to enjoy Coachella too.

However, it was maybe only twenty minutes into the set when Hongjoong started to think something was going wrong. While just a few minutes ago he had been enthusiastically jumping around to the music, enjoying the different styles of music they got in contact with at the festival - now he was starting to feel … off. He couldn’t describe it any other way.

There was tiredness in his muscles he hadn’t noticed before and he wasn’t able to motivate himself into jumping and enjoying the show anymore. Everything was slightly tilting, the effect barely even there. Still he was questioning if it really was dizziness he was experiencing or if he was just affected by the stage lights. All his enthusiasm was gone - replaced by exhaustion and a weird, heavy feeling in his stomach.

Maybe he was just a bit dehydrated and exhausted by the past week. Hongjoong slipped away from Seonghwa’s side for a moment to approach a manager.

“Hyung, do we have something to drink?”, he asked, trying to be as quiet as possible while the music was blasting in the background.

“Uh, I think we have some beer? And coke?”, the manager said.

Hongjoong grimaced. He didn’t feel like having a sweet, sugary drink and, even less so, alcohol. “I was actually hoping for water?”, he said reluctantly.

“Let me check”, the manager said and went to check in with one of the other managers. A minute later he re-appeared with a half-full bottle of water, holding it out in a sympathetic way. “That's all that’s left. It’s luke-warm but don’t worry, the others had distributed it into cups before.”

“Thanks, hyung”, Hongjoong said and took a sip. He nearly spat it out again - as the manager had said, it was lukewarm and very unappealing. But better than nothing, he supposed, and swallowed. Water was water after all.

Hongjoong returned to his spot between Jongho and Seonghwa, deciding to just watch the show, not dance as hard as Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho did and turn in early tonight.

The water sat heavily in his stomach, making everything uncomfortable. The captain was sweating hard, even despite the sun setting quickly, and his last reserves of energy were quickly fading into nothingness. There was a dull ache in his stomach, not unlike when he drank too much before doing a heavy workout or dance practice. For a moment he considered crouching down for a moment, just to rest, but he was still an idol in a public space. He had of course noticed the few cameras on the group, especially with how much the other members were enjoying the music. No, he could hold on.

⌛

Hongjoong could most definitely not hold on. He had finished the sips of water but he was starting to think that that might have been a mistake. The stomach pain had turned into painful cramps, he was hot and cold at the same time and he was starting to feel really nauseous and weak. While he did not want to admit to feeling unwell, he knew he could not endure. If anything went wrong, there were so many eyes on them…

So all that was left for him to do was to decide who he asked for help. He would have just gone back to the manager but he didn’t want to worry the members with just disappearing. Yunho and Mingi weren’t next to him and they were having too much fun for Hongjoong to disturb them. Jongho, too, was deeply enamored with the performance and Hongjoong didn’t want to bother the youngest. They all knew how much the maknae was stressing out about being the “K-Pop boy with the cool high notes” in the eyes of the public at the moment, how Jongho was so worried about each performance he had thrown up before their set the day before. No, he could not take these moments of happiness and relaxation from him.

The only option left was Seonghwa. Seonghwa who had looked forward to this artist but would drop everything for any of his dongsaengs if the need arose. Hongjoong was too selfish and, frankly, too unwell to really care at the moment. He just wanted to lie down away from the public eye. Preferably with some medication for the nausea but he would take being away for now.

So, dropping all his reservations, he tugged at the sleeve of Seonghwa’s jacket, leaning a bit closer to his friend. Seonghwa smiled at him and leaned down a bit, so that he could face Hongjoong. “What’s up?”, he asked, happiness painted on his face.

For a moment Hongjoong faltered. He wanted Seonghwa to keep looking this happy but he also didn’t feel like falling flat on his face from exhaustion and nausea in front of ATINY, so he mumbled into Seonghwa’s ear, the older having turned a bit so he could hear Hongjoong better. “I don’t feel good.”

Seonghwa frowned and turned to look at him. “You need to speak up, it’s so noisy”, he half-yelled. Right, concert. With a sigh, Hongjoong nodded. He didn’t think he could speak much louder, his throat feeling weird, but he had to. So when Seonghwa turned his head again so he could speak, Hongjoong called as loudly as he could but careful that nobody else could hear: “Hyung, I don’t feel good. I want to go back to the trailer.”

Seonghwa whipped around to look at him, worry shining in his eyes as he mustered Hongjoong. Hongjoong, who was still clutching his sleeve and hopefully didn’t look as bad as he felt. “What’s wrong?”, Seonghwa asked, placing a hopefully unobtrusive arm around Hongjoong’s waist.

“I don’t know, I just started feeling nauseous and not good”, Hongjoong admitted, resisting the urge to rest his head on his hyung’s shoulder.

“Alright, come on”, Seonghwa said, but before they could leave he leaned across Hongjoong to speak with Jongho. Hongjoong couldn’t hear what Seonghwa said but Jongho’s eyes widened in alarm before he nodded.

Hongjoong let Seonghwa pull him to the managers standing behind them, one hand still on Hongjoong’s back. “Hyung”, Seonghwa said to the same manager Hongjoong had spoken to earlier, “Joong-ah is not feeling well. We need to go back to the trailers.”

The manager instantly had a worried frown on his face and nodded, waving two security guards over. “Let’s go”, he said.

Honestly, Hongjoong was a bit overwhelmed by how quickly everything progressed but he was glad that it did. He really was starting to feel awful, his stomach cramping badly and the nausea getting worse with every step. In the sight of ATINY in the enclosed VIP space Hongjoong had resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his bloated stomach, but now he couldn’t bring himself to care. His stomach was killing him.

It was awful really, how fast everything was going downhill. His legs were shaking with each step, causing Hongjoong to be afraid they would give out under him any second. His stomach felt unsettled in a way he wasn’t sure which direction his food wanted out, he only knew it would leave at some point. He just hoped he could make it to some private area.

Now further away from the music, in the crisp night air, Seonghwa was walking closely beside Hongjoong. They were blindly following the manager, the security guards taking up the rear.

“How are you feeling? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”, Seonghwa asked quietly, aware that Hongjoong would not want everybody to know how badly he was feeling. Hongjoong sighed, wincing as his stomach cramped again. He stumbled a bit, only Seonghwa’s quick reflexes helping him keep his footing. At least they were mostly alone with most people at one of the shows.

“Hyung?”, Seonghwa called before Hongjoong could say anything, “can we stop for a second?”

The manager turned around, a sorry smile on his face. “It’s only a few hundred meters till we arrive at the VIP area, we can take a break there. Unless, Joong-ah, you really can’t go on.”

Hongjoong shook his head. While he really was not doing good and he had to keep swallowing a few times until he could speak, he did want to be in private. “I can hold out.” Satisfied, the manager nodded and obediently they followed.

⌛

Once they reached the VIP area, Hongjoong couldn’t help but collapse against Seonghwa, energy spent. He just wanted to lie down. Why did Coachella have to be so big? It took ages to get around. Hongjoong truly thought he couldn’t walk to the trailer anymore. It would still be another ten-fifteen minutes walk after all.

Seonghwa supported him to a set of lounging chairs and Hongjoong could have cried in relief when he was able to sit. Standing was exhausting. Immediately he doubled over and pressed his hands against his stomach.

“I’ll call for a golf cart to take us back”, the manager said, squeezing Hongjoong shoulder in silent support before moving away a bit to talk on his phone.

In the meantime, Soenghwa had knelt down in front of Hongjoong, pushing back sweaty hair from his face and taking Hongjoong’s small hand in one of his. “Joong-ah?”, he asked quietly, his voice comforting, “help me figure out what’s wrong. I’m so worried right now.”

“I just started feeling off, so I thought I was dehydrated and drank some water. But now my stomach is killing me, it hurts really badly, and I’m nauseous and bloated and I don’t feel good”, Hongjoong whispered, close to tears. He just wanted to sleep, not feel anything for a moment. He curled over further as his stomach cramped again and he had to swallow harshly.

Seonghwa recoiled a bit, moving to the side, though not letting go of Hongjoong’s hand. “Are you going to be sick?”, he asked, an edge of panic in his voice.

“Maybe”, Hongjoong admitted, pressing his wrist to his mouth in hopes it would help. They sat like this for a few minutes, Seonghwa patiently holding Hongjoong’s hand and at times rubbing his back, whispering comforting nonsense all while Hongjoong desperately tried to stop himself from throwing up.

Suddenly his stomach lurched again, at the same time as it cramped and Hongjoong groaned in pain. That seemed to be the last straw. “Hyung”, he gasped, panicked, “hyung, I …”

Seonghwa, bless him, seemed to have understood and he was already pulling Hongjoong to his feet, leading him over to an area of palm trees. Hongjoong didn’t even have time to pull his hand away from his mouth before he was sick for the first time. He heaved again nearly immediately, his stomach contents splattering against the bark of a poor tree.

Hongjoong just hoped nobody recognized them, just thinking he was some visitor who had had a bit too much to drink. Seonghwa seemed to sense his fear and whispered: “Don’t worry, it’s okay. Nobody is watching, the security guards are blocking the view and looking away themselves. You’re okay, focus on yourself.”

It took a few minutes until Hongjoong felt like he could breathe again, his stomach slowly stopping its assault. Wiping his mouth with his wrist, he let himself fall back against his hyung, knowing Seonghwa would always catch him.

“Feel better?”, the older man asked quietly and Hongjoong nodded weakly, closing his eyes. He was so exhausted he could barely muster the energy to be embarrassed. Seonghwa gently led him back to the lounging chairs and Hongjoong dropped down hard.

The manager held a bottle of water and asked Hongjoong to hold out his hand, pouring some water over it to clean off the puke. It would have to be enough for now. Then the manager handed him the bottle of water and gratefully Hongjoong took a few sips. He wasn’t sure they would stay down, honestly he doubted it, but if he was to throw up again he wanted a bit of time without the terrible taste of puke on his tongue.

“Hyung, when will the golf cart be here?”, Seonghwa asked the manager.

“It should be here soon, I hope, they couldn’t say”, the manager replied.

“Okay. What are you thinking? Heat exhaustion? Stomach virus? Bad food?” Seonghwa turned his attention to Hongjoong, sitting down on the chair next to him.

Hongjoong shrugged. “We had the same food all day and you and Yunho seem to feel good, so I doubt it’s that. Honestly, I don’t know. If it’s the heat shouldn’t that have happened earlier?”

“Excuse me?”, a female voice called out in English and all three of them whipped their heads up. Three girls stood with the security guards, looking at Seonghwa and Hongjoong with wide eyes. “We’re really sorry to disturb you but we’re ATINY and we wanted to ask if it’s possible to take a picture?”

Hongjoong sighed internally. He didn’t want to interact with them, no matter how nice the girls seemed. He loved fan interactions but … no, he couldn’t deal with that today. The manager was already shaking his head but Hongjoong could see the sadness and embarrassment in the three girls’s faces.

“One picture we can do”, he replied, brain taking a bit longer to switch to English than normally. The look on their faces was worth it though. Seonghwa painted a smile on his face, knowing he could not give away his worry.

They got up from the chairs and Hongjoong congratulated himself that he only stumbled slightly. His stomach didn’t hurt as badly as it had before and standing up for a few minutes for ATINY was doable.

The girl who had spoken at first handed the manager her phone and the two idols posed with the girls. Hongjoong hoped he looked presentable enough - he had never feared that he would at one point need to take pictures when he had puked just a few minutes ago. He just took great care in not touching them - not sure his hands were completely clean and not wanting them to get sick if he was infectious. Hopefully, they didn't notice anything off, maybe write off his hesitation as respect.

“You’re my bias”, one girl said shyly to Hongjoong and he thanked her quietly. One of the other girls complimented Seonghwa’s looks and his Wonderland performance of the day before.

Luckily, the three of them were very kind and respectful, so after thanking them profusely they left rather quickly. The moment they were out of sight, Hongjoong stumbled, his knees going weak. One of the security guards and Seonghwa managed to grab his arms before he could fall and then, finally, the golf cart arrived.

The manager took the front seat, Seonghwa helped Hongjoong settle in the middle row so he could face forwards and the security guards hopped into the back row, facing backwards.

“Do you think it was the Acai bowls? Maybe one of the ingre…?”, Seonghwa asked but was interrupted by Hongjoong, who moaned. “Don’t talk about anything food-related.”

“Okay, okay”, Seonghwa muttered comfortingly. “Rest, you can lie down soon. Just a few minutes.”

The few minutes were terrible. The ride was anything but smooth, it was as if they could feel every small blade of grass. Hongjoong could do nothing but clutch Soenghwa’s hand in the hidden space between them and pray.

⌛

The moment they arrived at their trailer, Hongjoong couldn’t hold it in anymore. He jumped down from his seat, knees nearly giving out under him, and stumbled a few steps to place his hands on his knees. He gagged and gagged until a tiny splatter of sick came up. With just how nauseous he was he thought more would come up but apparently it wasn’t to be so.

“Let’s lay you down inside”, Seonghwa said, a hand on the small of his back. “Manager-hyung is trying to organize the car to the hotel but there seems to be some problem. You can rest here now, though. A medic is on the way, just in case.”

Completely exhausted, Hongjoong just let Seonghwa help him inside. His legs were so tired and shaking he nearly stumbled on the steps to the trailer but again Seonghwa saved him. Yet, with the couch in sight, Hongjoong’s knees completely gave out and he sank against the wall - vertigo too much to overcome.

“No, no, come on. We’re practically there”, Seonghwa said and Hongjoong was dragged to the couch, immediately laid onto his side. He curled into a small ball, knees pulled to his chest in hopes to alleviate the cramps in his middle. Seonghwa crouched down beside him, brushing back his hair.

The manager arrived beside them, holding out a trash can and placing it in easy reach. “Just in case”, he said, “anything else we can do for you?”

“I just want to sleep”, Hongjoong mumbled, his eyes closing on their own accord. He opened his eyes at a cold touch at his fingers - Seonghwa was rubbing hand disinfectant on his still dirty-feeling hand. It barely made Hongjoong feel better or cleaner. He closed his eyes again.

“Alright, I’ll be in the sitting area over there. Try to stay awake until the medic is here. Call if you need me, I’ll let you know when the car to the hotel is close. Feel better soon, Joong-ah”, the manager said, leaving them alone. As one of their long-time managers he knew how much Hongjoong valued privacy in moments of vulnerability.

Staying awake, like the manager had suggested, didn’t prove to be a problem. Barely a few minutes had passed when Hongjoong started to feel the unpleasant, burning sensation in his chest and his mouth started to taste sour. He scrambled to sit up, startling Seonghwa who quickly handed him the trash can.

Hongjoong groaned, pulling it into his lap and spat out a mouthful of disgusting bile. Seonghwa took a seat next to him, rubbing his back and whispering comfort. Sitting up hardly helped against the acid reflux - Hongjoong had to keep spitting out wads of sour saliva, strands dangling from his mouth. He pressed a hand against his aching chest, choking slightly as he tried to swallow against the accumulating saliva. It hurt.

Hongjoong didn’t even notice he was crying until Seonghwa used the sleeve of his long-armed shirt to wipe his face. “It’s okay, you’re okay, breathe, Joong-ah”, the elder whispered gently, “you’re okay.”

“It hurts, Hwa”, Hongjoong whispered, fighting to stay composed. He hated being sick. He hated being sick in public. And he especially hated being sick when he and Seonghwa and their manager and the security guards could have been enjoying the concert. He hadn’t wanted to ruin the fun with his own stupidity.

After Seonghwa had mentioned their lunch, he had come to the realization he must have either mistranslated or overlooked an ingredient in one of the bowls. It was so stupid, he knew he had a lot of intolerances and still, here he was, throwing up.

“I’m sorry I am ruining your evening”, Hongjoong apologized, adding onto his last statement before Seonghwa could reply.

“I know it hurts, Joong-ah”, Seonghwa said, running his hand through Hongjoong’s hair, “and I know you feel guilty. Please don’t. We don’t know if it was the food or what else. Just focus on feeling better, okay?”

All Hongjoong could do was spit up another mouthful of bile, which finally - as he had feared it would - caused vomiting again. He harshly gagged, breathing taking on a faster pace in anticipation and anxiety. Purplish sick, a reflection of all his bad choices of the day, splattered against the plastic bag, mixing with the previous yellowish bile. Hongjoong had to close his eyes at the sight of chunks - some kind of berries he would never be able to look at or eat again.

Then panic set in. A chunk of something was starting to block his airways and he coughed, trying to dislodge it. He couldn’t help but let out a low whine, scared as the oxygen was kept from him. Fresh tears ran down his cheeks as he fought for breath.

Seonghwa switched from rubbing his back to first gently then a bit rougher patting it until Hongjoong was able to bring up whatever was blocking his airways. He heaved in a deep breath, eyes burning badly from the tears.

⌛

And amidst everything - there was a knock on the trailer door before it opened and two paramedics entered. Both were carrying the typical huge backpacks and smiled at the two members. The manager came to greet them and soon Hongjoong was crowded by the two while the manager took the bucket to wash it out in the trailer’s bathroom.

“Hello Hongjoong”, the woman greeted with a smile, managing to not completely mispronounce his name, “my name is Laura and this is Will. Can you tell us how you are feeling?”

Hongjoong nodded but needed a moment to gather himself. While he spoke English well enough he most certainly didn’t have much knowledge in the area of medical jargon. Maybe he should have watched more of Wooyoung’s medical dramas with him. “I started feeling sick at the concert, uh, I threw up a few times? My tummy hurts. I think I ate something that … wasn’t good for my body?” He really didn’t know how to explain food intolerances in English.

“Okay, I’m sorry to hear that. Let us take your pulse and temperature and all that, okay?”, she said. “Food poisoning can be bad.”

Oh, so he had said it wrong. Or there was some miscommunication.

“No, I … uh … I have like … lactose intolerance? But with, uh, fruit and vegetables”, he tried and received a nod from her.

“Do you have any trouble breathing?”, the other paramedic asked. Hongjoong shook his head, leaning back against Seonghwa while they did their tests. Neither him nor Seonghwa, nor the manager who had joined them again, understood much of what they were doing but they didn’t look too worried.

“You’re really dehydrated”, the female medic said, “we’d like to do …”

That was about all Hongjoong could translate and so the man pulled out a needle and a bag of fluids. Great. Really great. Defeated, Hongjoong nodded his agreement and let the woman poke at his elbow. Luckily he normally had good veins and she didn’t have much trouble putting the line in. It was uncomfortable, yes, but Hongjoong could deal with it if it helped.

Then the woman showed them her phone screen, displaying google translate: “Eat crackers and drink plain water and sports drinks for a day or two. Nothing too sweet or spicy. If you continue throwing up after tonight or show other symptoms go to a hospital.”

“Yes, I can do that”, Hongjoong said, his strength vanishing and getting replaced by exhaustion and a heaviness in his limbs.

“Try to sleep. We will be back to take out the IV in about half an hour.” The woman’s phone read.

Sleepily, Hongjoong nodded. The paramedics backed up and left, but before Hongjoong could doze off, the manager knelt down by his side: “Stay awake for a second, Joong-ah. The car will be here in about half an hour too. The concert will be over by that time, so the rest of the members will come with us. Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah”, Hongjoong mumbled. He didn’t necessarily fancy having the younger members see him like this but it would be unfair to make them wait.

“Alright, nap time”, Seonghwa said, brushing back Hongjoong’s hair. He helped the captain lie back down on the couch without disturbing the I.V. line. At least the acid reflux seemed to have gotten better, making it possible to lie flat again, but the stomach cramps had not gone away. The movement of laying down triggered another wave of pain and Hongjoong gasped, instinctively curling into himself and pulling his knees to his stomach.

“Let’s try to stretch out your legs”, Seonghwa suggested, a comforting hand on Hongjoong’s hip. “It might help the pain.” Carefully and slowly the eldest moved Hongjoong’s legs, giving Hongjoong the chance to tell him to stop if the pain got worse. It didn’t - in fact it was much better once Hongjoong’s legs were fully stretched out across the couch.

“Better?”, Seonghwa asked and Hongjoong mumbled an affirmation. He was already half-asleep when Seonghwa lifted his upper body to rest Hongjoong’s head on his lap.

“Tell me if I should stop”, Seonghwa whispered and for a moment Hongjoong was confused. Then his shirt was lifted and a warm hand came to rest on his aching stomach. Hongjoong sighed in comfort. It helped a lot. Then Seonghwa started to rub soothing circles against taunt muscles and Hongjoong was definitely in some sort of heaven.

⌛

That sentiment held for about twenty minutes until the captain woke up suddenly and immediately had to lunge for the bucket just in time to get sick again. It most certainly was not a nice sensation to wake up to and Seonghwa seemed startled too. The pressure of his hand was too much and Hongjoong grasped Seonghwa’s fingers, pulling his hand away from his upset stomach to interlace their fingers. It was a lifeline that Hongjoong clung to, next to Seonghwa stroking his hair. Hongjoong wasn’t even sure he was hitting the bucket but slowly the heaving stopped. He stayed leaning over the receptacle just in case.

“What the…?”, San asked loudly.

When Hongjoong looked up he saw Yeosang, who had entered behind San, turn around on the spot and push Wooyoung back out the door, much to the loud confusion of the younger. Better for Wooyoung not to see, there was no need for an emetophobia-fueled panic attack. Hongjoong sank back down into Seonghwa’s lap, feeling much worse than he had before his nap.

“Hyungs?”, San questioned, worriedly, and came closer, “Seonghwa-hyung? What’s wrong with Hongjoong-hyung?”

“Probably ate something he shouldn’t have”, Seonghwa explained, “I got this. Go check on Wooyoung, if you stay here he won’t be able to share with you and I’m not going to help you figure out roommate arrangements today. I got this under control.”

San agreed and turned to leave, when he was stopped by the manager. “The cars are here. San-ah, did you guys see Yunho, Mingi and Jongho?”

“No, but Jongho-yah texted they are on their way back, that’s why we came back”, San replied and left.

He was nearly immediately replaced by one of the paramedics who unhooked Hongjoong’s I.V. and deemed him ready to go. Hongjoong was so tired that the conversation passed in a blur and he was only pulled back to really when the uneasy looking manager asked: “Okay, Hongjoong-ah, think you can make it back to the parking lot?”

Of course Hongjoong could. Especially with six worried dongsaengs outside.

But when Seonghwa helped him to his feet, Hongjoong’s knees buckled under him and he was only saved by the elder wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s back. The cramps in his gut had not let up and the captain wasn’t able to stand up straight, muscles too out of sorts to let him uncoil his body.

“Are you sure you can walk?”, the manager wondered.

“Yes”, Hongjoong said through gritted teeth. He would not show vulnerability to the outside world, not more than he already had. “Just let me take it slow.”

They stepped out into the cold night air and Hongjoong shivered. Immediately a warm jacket was wrapped around his back. Jongho was already looking like he was freezing but he had a determined look on his face.

“Don’t protest, hyung. I will ride with WooSanSang and we’ll be at the car faster than you. Besides, I’m not the one throwing up”, the maknae pointed out. Hongjoong sighed and thanked him.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, San and Jongho hurried in front of them while Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi walked slowly to accommodate Hongjoong’s small steps. Each meter they walked seemed like an ocean and a mountain range at the same time and by the time the cars were in sight, Hongjoong would have cried if he had any fluids left.

⌛

The rather long ride to the hotel - apparently there had been an accident which was why the cars had taken especially long to get them - passed in a tired and nauseous blur. While Hongjoong normally loved looking out the window, especially as it helped his motion sickness, but now he was just grateful for any second he wasn’t staring at the bottom of a plastic bag or at his stomach contents in said plastic bags.

Not to be overdramatic but Hongjoong might have actually dryly cried in relief when the hotel came into sight. They were quick to get to their rooms and once they had bid Yunho and Mingi good-night, the two disappearing into the rooms they respectively shared with Jongho and Yeosang, Hongjoong collapsed onto his bed, fully-clothed.

He was sweaty, coarse sand stuck to every part of him and make-up nearly cried off but he couldn’t care less.

Seonghwa, however, cared. But he was as gentle as he could be, taking off Hongjoong’s outer clothes and wiping the dirt away with a wet towel, then cleaning off his face with a make-up remover.

“Think you can eat some crackers?”, he asked, sitting down next to Hongjoong onto the bed. Hongjoong shook his head. He was just glad for any moment he was not being sick, he was not going to risk setting anything off.

“Drink some gatorade at least”, Seonghwa said and lifted Hongjoong’s head. Too tired to fight him, Hongjoong complied and but groaned at the disgusting taste. Sports drinks had never been his favorite and combined with the taste of bile it was rather disgusting.

“Water?”, he asked, wanting to wash the taste away and nearly immediately Seonghwa tipped a bottle of the clear fluid against his lips.

“I put the trash bin beside you. Wake me if you need anything, and I mean anything, Joong-ah. You can rest now”, Seonghwa said and placed a feather-light kiss against Hongjoong’s temple.

The captain was asleep before Seonghwa even had the chance to get up from his side.

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - ATEEZ

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months

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Re: Meghan’s royal wardrobe vs Kate’s royal wardrobe.

As well as your suggestions for Meghan’s approach to her wardrobe, I think it may have helped her to figure out her role first.

Kate had the advantage of being a girlfriend for so long and that way seeing what her role could, would, should look like. She also had the type of mother who really cares about the self presentation of her kids to the point that one of the Marlborough mothers commented on it.

I realise that Meghan set herself and public expectations up by claiming she’s going to out-Duchess Kate, but that in itself was a failure on her part in not understanding her role and or adjusting accordingly.

The second mistake she made was to recreate the Disney Princess fantasy in her head with her own role and with couture instead of being herself / california coll per your suggestion.

And whining to Harold didn’t help because he already had a chip on his shoulder about being the spare instead of understanding the freedom this granted him and by extension Meghan.

I think this mindset hasn’t left them even though they’ve Megxited and rather than do their own thing, they are trying to set up a rival court that is equal to KP’s royals except with sexy / sex kitten Duchess.

It’s so funny that she thinks Kate cares to be seen as a sex kitten. To William perhaps, in private, but certainly not to the rest of the world because Kate also understands history. With rare exception, sex kitten doesn’t read well in history.

****************

I don’t have a problem with Meghan going straight for the couture and the Disney Princess fantasy. I think a lot of people would have done the exact same thing if given the same opportunity

The issue with Meghan’s Disney Princess fantasy fashion is that it was sloppy. It wasn’t tailored to her. She just grabbed something off the hanger, said ‘it’ll do’, and threw it on. If she had things properly fitted, hemmed, tailored, and lined, she probably would’ve been able to upgrade California Cool to French Chic. Which I think is what she was trying to do, because a lot of the outfits she wore from Toronto IG 2017 to Sydney IG 2018 was in that kind of French Chic vibe. And it would have been successful...if it was all properly fitted in the first place.

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mariacallous · 2 days

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A new UC Riverside study on California agriculture and climate proposes a plan for new water capture, storage, and distribution systems throughout California that will sustain agriculture and keep up with climate trajectories.

Available water for consumption is disappearing because of climate change and failing storage systems, leaving one of its top consumers—the agricultural industry—scrambling, the study concludes.

California’s agriculture sector uses about 40 percent of all the state’s water, or 80 percent of its consumed water. With less water available, agriculture must adjust. The study provides a pathway for the sector to do so.

The study, published last month in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, finds that groundwater aquifers have more storage potential than surface water reservoirs. So, instead of devoting decades to build more dams and reservoirs that are subject to evaporation and overflow, water should be diverted into these depleted aquifers below the Central Valley and the coastal plains.

Over the past 40 years, aquifers have been overpumped, meaning more water has been taken out than put back in. When aquifers become too depleted, the land can subside. “In some parts of the Central Valley, it’s been sinking a foot or two a year,” said Kurt Schwabe, a public policy professor at UC Riverside and coauthor of the study. Land subsidence can cause infrastructure like buildings and highways to crack and degrade. It also harms the aquifer’s capacity to hold water and the health of the surrounding ecosystems.

Not only can replenishing groundwater aquifers limit these negative environmental impacts, but it can also bolster a water “savings account” during times of drought. When California lacks surface water, water usage shifts to groundwater stores.

But the big problem isn’t simply a quantity issue: “When I moved to California over 20 years ago, someone told me, ‘Don’t let people tell you there isn’t a lot of water in California, because there is. The problem is that it’s just managed really poorly,” said Schwabe.

The drought-plagued state was just drenched by two wet seasons and atmospheric rivers, but its infrastructure failed to adequately store that excess water.

Think of it like a leaky roof. In the past, you could have stored rainwater seeping through your roof in a gallon bucket for five separate rain events. Now, you would need a 5-gallon bucket for just one rain event.

Although the amount of precipitation hasn’t changed much compared to historical rates, “climate change has typically reduced the number of rainfall events but has made them much more intense,” said Schwabe.

Additionally, the climate crisis has led to high temperatures that evaporate surface waters before they can replenish and prevent rainfall from accumulating as snowpack, which has traditionally refilled reservoirs throughout the spring.

Like the gallon bucket, California’s storage facilities are too small. That, together with slow landscape absorption, is leading to flash floods and potentially useful water flowing back to the ocean.

For example, two winters’ worth of snow followed by intense heat created a flood risk in 2023. State officials decided to release water from Lake Oroville and other reservoirs across Southern California and the Central Valley. Although this helped prevent flooding and sent water downstream, many Californians were upset that the fresh water was being wasted. In attempts to reduce overflow releases, water agencies and irrigation districts made recharge basins to capture precipitation. But it wasn’t enough. Constant overpumping and a changing climate leave aquifers depleted to this day.

Their natural recharge process—precipitation accumulating as surface water that percolates through the soil to recharge groundwater aquifers—can also be disrupted by urbanization or impervious covers like pavement, said Bruk Berhanu, a senior researcher in water efficiency and reuse at the Pacific Institute.

The study suggests more managed aquifer recharge (MAR) infrastructure is needed to adequately catch large amounts of water in short time periods and avoid similar water-loss situations.

MAR is an intentional method of recharging aquifers, especially those at low levels. Already commonly implemented in California, MAR infrastructure includes conveyance structures that redistribute water to dehydrated locations, and injection—spraying water on land or, the more costly option, directly infusing water in wells.

Yet, to ensure an effective recharge of the aquifers, more monitoring and measurement is required. “Through 2014, growers were not required to monitor or report any withdrawals or injections to aquifers,” said Schwabe.

Regardless, California has more monitoring practices than other states mainly because water availability is not as big a concern elsewhere, said Berhanu. Monitoring standards vary by state and region. Regulations for urban areas differ from agricultural or industrial areas. Based on Berhanu’s work assessing the country’s volumetric potential for water use efficiency at the municipal level, he found that “there is no federal regulatory framework for monitoring or reporting. In a lot of cases, water supplies aren’t even metered.”

Even in areas that did have regulations, the reports were often infrequent or incomplete; the UC Riverside researchers are working on expanding the few accurate monitoring systems put in place in Southern California by proactive growers.

Additionally, the study proposes voluntary water markets where farmers with a surplus of water can trade it to another farmer in need. It’s a win-win process: The selling farmer makes extra profit and the other gets much-needed water. “With prices based on scarcity plus delivery costs, such a marketplace would have incentives for storage and efficient use,” Schwabe said in a press release.

Berhanu added that water-trading markets can work in some areas but not in others. “It needs a very strong governance framework to make sure all of the players are playing according to the rules.” The process will need to have improved monitoring practices, transparent data, and clear external costs, he said. “The more decentralized you get with how these transactions are being made, it becomes very difficult to coordinate the overall watershed-scale system benefits.”

The study also mentions the value of reusing wastewater. Historically, wastewater has been treated to an environmental safety standard then released into the ocean or groundwater system. Over time, natural processes will clean it. Instead of waiting for the environment to purify it, water treatment facilities can repurpose the wastewater for irrigation, commercial use, or recharging purposes.

As of 2023, water treatment plants can purify wastewater so well that people can drink it. “At some point, the water that we use will become someone else’s water for drinking or irrigation,” said Berhanu. Whether wastewater is for drinking or recharging aquifers, California plants are expanding their operations to include recycling methods so they can produce a sufficient supply.

“The overall volume of water in the world doesn’t really change. We need to shift our thinking from looking at how much water is available at one point of time to trying to better integrate our practices with the entire water cycle,” said Berhanu.

The study goes on to mention numerous efficiency-based and management solutions, like sustainable farming practices, land repurposing, and desalination to help the agriculture industry adjust.

“Now is the time to think about possibilities and opportunities for collaboration across agriculture, municipalities, and the environment to invest in smart investments that capture more water and put it in the ground,” said Schwabe.

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copperbadge · 1 year

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The Royals And The Ramblers

Good morning readers and welcome to the latest Shivadhverse novel! As with my previous books, I’m making a draft of the novel available for public commentary, so that you all can help make it awesome.

The Royals And The Ramblers is the fifth novel in the Shivadh Romances; earlier novels are available for purchase as ebooks or hardcopies or in PDF for free. This book largely features the cast of previous novels, and may be a struggle to read without having read the others, although I've done my best to make it accessible.

Constructive criticism is welcome! Tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, where my typos are.

Summary:

Change is in the air for the Shivadh royal family! King Gregory III is marrying his American fiancee, Eddie Rambler, in a series of weddings -- one in Eddie's hometown in California, one for the family in Fons-Askaz, and one memorable blowout for all of Askazer-Shivadlakia. When the royals visit California, Eddie's shy brother Ephraim finds an instant soulmate in extroverted chatterbox Noah, while his sister Monday, a little protective of her big brother, is wary of the royals at first. Still, by the time the first wedding rolls around she's agreed to travel back with them and serve as a surrogate so that Eddie and Gregory can start a family.

The only snag? She's been enjoying a no-strings affair with the royal bodyguard, Georgiana, and they had agreed it would just be a fun fling until the royals went home again. Now they're both in Fons-Askaz, Monday feeling a little in over her head and Georgie feeling a little wistful -- so an extension on the fling might be in order. They both know Monday, whose family is in California and whose life is on the waves, can't stay, so they're doing their best not to get attached.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family is undergoing changes as well: Jerry and Alanna are negotiating their way through new developments in their relationship, while Noah and Jes are both adjusting to Noah's almost-adulthood and his new role as prince. Gregory and Eddie, having taken a young prodigy under their wing, are becoming dads a little ahead of schedule, and Michaelis would like to be granddad to young Joan, but she's making it...difficult. Everyone's going to have to find a few new ways to keep growing up, but given their tight family bonds and the Shivadh sense of humor, that shouldn't be an impossible task.

The chapters will be posted one-a-day at AO3, starting today with:

Prologue and Chapter One

You can also read the entire novel chapter-by-chapter, available starting today, in googledoc form:

The Prologue and Chapter One are here, or you can access the entire novel at the folder here.

Happy reading!

#shivadhverse #self-publishing #romance #romance novel #indy author

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california-disaster-advocates · 2 years

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All the fire insurance claims California provides are being reduced by insurance companies as fires become a more prevalent threat. Familiarity with the fire insurance claims process is essential due to the increasing threat of fires.

#fire claims #insurance claims #fire recovery #public insurance adjuster california #insurance adjuster

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beardedmrbean · 7 months

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Zoomer Huey, I tend to see people saying why Gen z don’t have sex much.

Holy

Fucking

Shits

These journalists surprisedly have WORSE self awareness than there boomer relatives

Here a hint https://x.com/swannmarcus89/status/1762582001507323991?s=46

And gender dynamics are…nuked in the fields they are surveying. Women and girls are told that all men are predators and misandry is left unchecked

Also, why Hollywood act surprised about the sex abuse?

We all heard about the casting coach, and how suspiciously people from working class backgrounds like Micheal Jackson (yes his dad had his music connections. But essentially mj was a slave and was arguably was the first black child star unless I’m missing someone) and Walt Disney (though not as bad) are painted as monsters while the actual monsters are protected for decades

I mean look at Judy Garland, she was a sweet person and she did help the LBGT in Hollywood and supported the civil rights movement

But her “crazy” behavior makes more sense because she was sexually abused at a extremely young age

And she not the only one, Shirley Temple, the boy who played at the first LA Dennis the Manis

Oh and the Peter Pan actor (a lot of people leave out the part where ALL of Hollywood basically says he can choke and die because he was “too” Disney)

But sorry about the Gen stuff, but the false rape accusations, maybe if you guys didn’t view men (especially white ones) the same way Nazis viewed the Jews while saying all the working class men were Weinstein.

My Gen would have more sex

Entertainment industry has been like that since the beginning of forever, probably less so when women weren't allowed to participate but still a thing I'm sure.

As for Judy Garland it was nice to see people come out swinging in her defense when someone tried to start shit over well

She was not in control of her carer, saying no was not an option for her with this, but dumbasses that can only think in terms of today's standards never think about that.

Jay North (Dennis the Menace) did ok, so did Shirley Temple, plenty of others not so much, more recently we can look at Drew Barrymore and RDJ who both had fairly public meltdowns and problems.

Drew was ruined since her first film was ET and Spielberg takes care of the kids on set, going beyond the legal requirements.

Bobby Driscol was the Peter Pan VA top of his Wiki article.

Robert "Bobby" Cletus Driscoll (March 3, 1937 – c. March 30, 1968) was an American actor who performed on film and television from 1943 to 1960. He starred in some of the Walt Disney Studios' best-known live-action pictures of that period: Song of the South (1946), So Dear to My Heart (1949), and Treasure Island (1950), as well as RKO's The Window (1949). He served as the animation model and provided the voice for the title role in Peter Pan (1953). He received an Academy Juvenile Award for outstanding performances in So Dear to My Heart and The Window.

He just fell into the child actor pit, where he wasn't "cute" anymore couldn't get gigs and couldn't adjust to not being in the spotlight, the way he went and nobody knowing is awful to think about still.

Jackie Coogan, on the other hand was a different story.

His parents sucked and as a result there's a series of laws named after him California's Coogan Law all about protecting the earnings of child actors from their parents. % goes into a trust iirc.

He ended up OK in the end though

The false accusation thing, #me too hurt women because #believe women was taken advantage of to such a degree that even this coming out to light

has still probably not cleared up for the trooper, and men are opting to not mentor women because of not wanting to risk a false accusation, everyone screams about how rare they are, to which I say so what, why should they assume the risk even if it's minor

Former VP Mike Pence came out and said he won't be alone with a woman that's not his wife in order to ensure that there is no possibility of someone making a claim of impropriety.

And he got this response

Why is anyone going to put their neck on the line when something like what he said is going to get this kind of response.

Maybe instead of crying about how rare false accusations are they should focus on shaming the people making them and coming up with solutions to keep them from happening.

You know instead of blaming the victims of the false accusations.

All this and so much more going on that isn't in this ask goes to the I don't blame people for not having as much sex, it's actually kinda nice too, fewer std's this way.

I went on a couple tangents, hope that's ok

#zoomer huey anon

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doyouevenknowwhatshappening · 6 months

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Sally Kristen Ride (May 26, 1951 – July 23, 2012) was an American astronaut and physicist. She pioneered the way for American women in space and still does today, twenty-two years after she passed.

Born in Los Angeles, she joined NASA in 1978, and in 1983 became the first American woman and the third woman to fly in space, after cosmonauts Valentina Tereshkova in 1963 and Svetlana Savitskaya in 1982.

NASA was still adjusting to female astronauts, and engineers had asked Ride to assist them in developing a "space makeup kit", assuming it would be something a woman would want on board.

They also infamously suggested providing Ride with a supply of 100 tampons for the six-day mission

"Everywhere I go I meet girls and boys who want to be astronauts and explore space, or they love the ocean and want to be oceanographers, or they love animals and want to be zoologists, or they love designing things and want to be engineers. I want to see those same stars in their eyes in 10 years and know they are on their way." -Sally Ride

On July 1, 1989, Ride became a professor of physics at the University of California, San Diego (UCSD), and director of the California Space Institute (Cal Space), part of the university's Scripps Institution of OceanographyRide and O'Shaughnessy, along with three colleagues, founded Sally Ride Science in 2001 as a science education company. When Ride died after a 17-month battle with pancreatic cancer, O’Shaughnessy wrote Ride’s obituary for the company’s website.

The obituary said Ride was survived by “Tam O’Shaughnessy, her partner of 27 years,” revealing their relationship to the public for the first time. Ride had ensured that O'Shaughnessy would inherit her estate when she drew up her will in 1992. They registered their domestic partnership on August 15, 2011.

Ride and O'Shaughnessy, along with three colleagues, founded Sally Ride Science in 2001 as a science education company. When Ride died after a 17-month battle with pancreatic cancer, O’Shaughnessy wrote Ride’s obituary for the company’s website.

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andiwriteordie · 2 years

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Secret relationship Byler on a Valentine’s Day date that gets spotted by Elumax

Naturally chaos ensues

piper!

okay this was so fun, and i am a sucker for secret relationship byler (and elumax omg my whole heart)! hope you enjoy!

—

7: i loved you in secret

Will Byers has a secret.

It’s not a bad secret—actually, far from that. It’s actually a really, really good secret, and it’s one that makes Will smile to himself and kind of giggle like a kid when he stops to think about it. It’s that kind of secret.

Will Byers has a secret.

And his secret?

It’s Mike Wheeler.

Yeah, so nobody knows this secret except for Mike himself, but Will has been dating Mike for… a little over a month now. The two of them got together on New Year’s Eve actually, when Mike caught Will off guard and kissed on at midnight while the two of them were getting some fresh air. Since then, not that much has changed between the two of them, other than the fact that they kiss and cuddle and do other “couple” stuff now. They’ve always spent all their time together, but now… now, they get to do it as boyfriends.

The only thing is Mike isn’t actually out to anyone yet, and that’s fine, of course. It’s difficult being gay in the eighties to begin with, and even though the Party lives in California now for college, it’s still a bit of an adjustment to remind themselves that this isn’t wrong. It’s not wrong for guys to love other guys or for girls to love other girls or for people to love both or neither. It’s not wrong, but undoing all the shit they’ve heard growing up is hard.

So, they’re taking their relationship slow and keeping it a secret until Mike feels ready to come out to everyone. He’s getting there, Will thinks, and just based on conversations the two of them have had recently, Will thinks his boyfriend will probably be ready to tell the Party soon.

Until then though, Will is honestly fine with keeping their relationship a secret. Honestly, it’s a little bit fun, especially since the other Party members can be nosy as hell. With their relationship a secret right now, they can keep this just for the two of them. Their relationship is just for Will and Mike—not for anyone else. They don’t have to worry about prying questions or nosy best friends when nobody knows about their relationship. They can just be together.

And for Will, that’s all that matters.

But being in a secret relationship does pose a few extra hurdles to get past—namely trying to figure out how to go on dates without getting caught by their friends. It’s actually kind of difficult, since most of their favorite places to frequent also just so happen to be the Party’s favorite places to go to together.

So, that’s exactly how Will finds himself in a little Italian restaurant over an hour away from campus, dressed in a nice dress shirt and dress pants and a fucking tie—because Mike had insisted upon taking Will out for a fancy, grown-up date.

(His words. Not Will’s.)

Somehow, he’d even managed to snag a couple of fake IDs for the two of them, and so, Will is a little bit tipsy on champagne that is way too fucking expensive and doesn’t even taste that good. But honest to God, he doesn’t care, because Mike keeps smiling across the table at him, and his cheeks are flushed from the wine and from the flirting, and Will is just so happy that he could cry.

Never ever in a million years did Will think he could have this—with Mike least of all—and never ever did he think he’d be brave enough to be out here in public with his boyfriend. But then again, after surviving a hell dimension, the end of the world, and an interdimensional war, Will thinks he’s probably braver than he gives himself credit for.

At the end of the day though, it’s Mike who gives him the strength and the courage to keep going. Mike and the love he has for Will is something that makes Will feel brave—brave enough to survive the most terrifying place Will has ever been in, brave enough to keep going even though the odds were stacked against them, brave enough to fight monsters and horrors no one should ever have to face, and brave enough to sit here, in public and smile and laugh and just be with the man he loves.

His relationship with Mike is the best thing that’s ever happened to Will. And this night—getting dressed up and pretending to be older than they are and actually getting to be themselves out in the world together—is definitely one of the best nights of Will’s life.

…

Until it isn’t.

Because when Will is about halfway through his way too fancy Italian dish, the front door of the restaurant opens.

His sister walks into the restaurant.

And Will nearly chokes on his food.

“Shit,” Will coughs, sinking lower into his seat. “Shit.”

A confused look forms on Mike’s face. “What?” he asks, voice full of concern. “What’s wrong? Will? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Will reassures, and he glances back at the door, wincing as El goes up to the hostess and starts talking to her. “But look who just walked in.”

Mike’s brow furrows, and his line of sight goes to the front door. All at once, his eyes widen, and his face turns bright red. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” he whispers, sinking lower into his seat just like Will is doing right now. “Lucas and Max are here?”

“What?” Will spins around again, and sure enough, Lucas and Max are walking into the restaurant now, their arms linked together. “I was talking about El! What are Lucas and Max doing here?”

“No clue,” Mike says with a wince, “but I, uh… I think they’re all together actually.”

Will’s eyes wide, and again, he turns around just in time to see Max and Lucas walk up to El. Max places a little kiss on El’s cheek, and Will watches as his sister beams, looking happier than he’s ever seen her before.

Then, in a move that’s even stranger, Lucas does the same, planting a little kiss on El’s cheek and then on Max’s, and Will’s jaw drops open.

“Holy shit,” Will whispers, turning back around to his boyfriend. “Are the three of them together?”

Mike shrugs slightly, and he reaches for his glass of champagne, taking a small sip and scrunching his nose. “Kinda looks like it,” he remarks. “That… actually makes a lot of sense.”

It does, in fact, make a lot of sense. El and Max have been close for years now—ever since that summer with the Mind Flayer—and when Max was missing in the Upside Down, El and Lucas grew a lot closer too. Will supposes it’s not that hard to imagine the three of them would end up in a relationship together.

What is hard to imagine is that El didn’t tell him.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me,” Will grumbles, glancing back at his sister. Currently, her arm is linked with Max’s, and she’s bending down slightly to rest her head on Max’s shoulder. “I had no idea!”

A quiet laugh escapes Mike’s lips, and Will turns back around to see his boyfriend smiling in amusement. “Will,” he chuckles, “I really don’t think you’re in a position to get mad at El for keeping a secret relationship from you.”

Warmth rises to Will’s cheeks. Okay, that’s fair, but still, it’s the principle of the matter. He imagines El will probably be upset when she finds out Will kept his own relationship from her, so… Will’s going to let himself have this.

“Oh, shit,” Mike mutters.

“What?” Will blinks, and he looks around in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“The hostess is bringing them this way,” Mike says with a wince. “You don’t think…”

His voice trails off, and he glances at the empty table that’s right next to theirs. It’s set for four people, and if they have a reservation for three, it would make sense…

Oh, shit.

“There’s no way we’d be that unlucky,” Will laughs nervously. “Right?”

Mike winces again, and he looks around the room. “Uh… considering there’s almost no other open tables…”

Will curses under his breath, glancing over his shoulder. The hostess is almost to the empty table now, with Lucas, Max, and El trailing after her. “We could leave,” Will offers, just to be helpful. “Maybe they won’t see us? I mean… I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell them if you aren’t ready.”

The look on Mike’s face softens, and he smiles back at Will, soft and sweet. “We’re not leaving,” he says, shaking his head. “There’s no way I’m letting those three ruin our date. Besides, we were here first.”

He pauses here and shrugs slightly. “And if they ask about it,” Mike muses, “I’ll just tell them the truth. I mean… I was thinking about telling the others soon anyways, and I think I’m ready… so, it’s okay, Will.”

There’s something so genuine in his voice and something so soft in his eyes, and Will can’t help but smile at his boyfriend. Pride blossoms all inside his chest, warm and gentle. Coming out is never easy, and so all Will can feel right now is so much pride and so much love.

“Okay,” he says softly. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Mike promises, reaching his hand out for Will to take. “I love you. And I don’t care who knows about it.”

Will’s stomach does a nervous little somersault, and he smiles again, taking his boyfriend’s hand. “I love you too,” he whispers back.

Then, before he can say anything else, the hostess finally sits Lucas, Max, and El down at the table right next to them. Both Lucas and El clearly look surprised to see them, and they barely pay any attention to the little spiel the hostess gives about their waiting coming over soon.

Finally, the hostess leaves, and Will smiles awkwardly, lifting his free hand in a little wave. “Hi,” he greets, looking directly at his sister.

“Hi,” El says slowly, her eyes darting back and forth between Will and Mike. “Um…”

“Early Valentine’s Day date,” Mike explains, and surprise forms on all three of their faces. “We wanted to beat the crowds and get away from campus.”

Lucas and El exchange a look, while Max squeezes El’s hand. An understanding seems to pass between the three of them, and Lucas offers a sheepish smile. “Us too,” he admits. “Figured it’d be easier to…”

“Hide your secret relationship?” Will guesses with a teasing smile.

All three of them have the audacity to look a little embarrassed, so that certainly makes Will feel a little bit better. “Yep,” Max confirms, her cheeks bright red. “Same with you?”

“Yep.” Mike nods. “What are the chances?”

“What are the chances,” El echoes faintly, and she glances over at Will, offering him an apologetic smile.

I am sorry, her expression seems to say. For not telling you.

Will just gives her one in return. It’s okay. Me too.

“So… I, uh… I guess we’ll let you guys get back to your date,” Lucas says awkwardly. “Sorry for… bothering you?”

Will can’t help but laugh, and he picks up his glass of champagne, taking a small sip of it. “All good,” he promises, even though he feels probably just as embarrassed as Lucas, El, and Max do. “Um… enjoy your date?”

“You too,” Max says with another awkward smile.

An uncomfortable silence settles over both tables, and Will glances back at his boyfriend. There’s an amused look on Mike’s face, and when he catches Will’s eye, he raises an eyebrow, as if to say, That could’ve been worse. Will just nods in agreement and takes another sip of his champagne, ignoring the way it burns just a little when it goes down.

“Um, guys?”

Will looks up at the sudden interruption, and he looks over at the table full of his best friends. “Yeah?”

“How are we going to tell Dustin about this?” Lucas, who had spoken up first, asks with another wince. “Or do we just… you know…”

His voice trails off, but the question doesn’t go unasked.

Do you still want to keep this a secret?

Mike purses his lips together, as if considering what to do with this situation. “We can figure it out later,” he says finally. “For right now…”

He glances over at Will, a soft but mischievous look in his eyes, and he squeezes Will’s hand again. “It’ll be our little secret,” Mike decides.

#andi's asks #byler #byler ficlet #elumax #andi writes not dies #rip sorry dustin

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