#rise and shine ew fans

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

oup… 🥣

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

time to dig up those graves, m | myg, jjk

misfit toys au continuation of intro >> don’t play >> this game

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, jungkook x reader

summary: In this world, there are those who get stabbed and the ones who do the stabbing. Is it fun for you, Min Yoongi? Is it fun to see who gets the fatal strike in this game of sex and lies you've created with your stepsister? It's not so fun, though, when you actually witness her parring hits from your very own father.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; warning! implied sexual abuse (no direct actions are described); name calling; equally wealthy and SHIT parents that abuse their adult children in the name of filial piety narcissism; descriptions of a peeping tom event and a physical fight; stepsiblings; intense smut (fem reader, D/s (switches, sub!JK), fucking in a hot tub, thigh riding, nipple play, heavy biting / marking / scratching, fingering, cumming on reader's face, cum eating, m-receiving oral, restraints, blindfolding(?), use of a makeshift gag (panties) + cock ring, cock-warming, spitting, choking, cowgirl, cum feeding (from a condom ew), reverse cowgirl, ball torture); non-idol!AU - orange-haired!Yoongi x savage, bad bitch!reader, ft protective, security guard!Jeon Jungkook; shifts between Yoongi's, yours, and JK's POV

--

“Enjoyed your date, slut?”

He had to hand it to her for the hotel selection at least. The large penthouse balcony allowed for a sprawling view of a city skyline below, complete with tiny glittering windows, artificial stars shining for the restless still awake in this late night. The separation from inside area to the outside veranda was a wall of glass doors that only required a few buttons to fully open up the space, folding back into the wall to allow the guest to walk freely from the massive bed to the hot tub.

Min Yoongi walked into this extravagant hotel room with a curled lip and spite in his tone.

A voice rose from the water like rising steam.

“It wasn’t a date. It was only a client from the club.”

“That’s not what the media said.”

He saw her back first. Base of shoulder blades and up. Her elbows rested on the stone tile edge of the hot tub. Her hair was twisted into place with a long metal hairpin, revealing the curve of naked shoulders, the glistening skin imploring for his bites.

The more vicious, the better.

As he approached his stepsister, Yoongi noticed the hairpin had a thin silver chain with a charm on it.

An onyx cat head.

Her head turned, barely. The charm swung ominously in the air, making him feel like some sort of body should be attached, but the design was clearly meant to be a disembodied head attached to the end of a thin metal stake. An instrument with the sole purpose to be stabbed into tangled hair to thereby deem the wearer put together.

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with the squabble of simpletons, Yoongi.”

A wry chuckle.

“It was a dull dinner, honestly. The client was asking for some of the girls for his birthday party.”

The sound of churning water mixed with fingertips dancing on the surface. A low, mirthless hum. He could feel the cloaked rage in her otherwise calm tone.

“I told him my employees are not circus animals.”

“You don’t own the brothel, you know,” he muttered.

Silence.

An Icy itch slithered down his spine.

Yoongi had the distinct feeling that if his stepsister had a knife with her, it would now be buried into his anatomy with furious precision.

Instead, she inhaled slowly. Long digits fanning out, lifting, right hand gracefully landing on the stone tiles. Sliding out, her shoulders and head tipping back, and he saw her eyes were closed, wispy strands of hair fluttering over her cheeks and forehead. The water was milky with bath salts, aerated waves washing over her chest, concealing it save for the upper swell of her breasts.

She sank down as she leaned back, pink pillowy lips parting to let out a smokey sigh.

The onyx charm of the cat head clinked against the stone.

Scraping.

“The establishment is a gentlemen’s club. Not a daycare that rents out adult babysitters for crass, immature worms that still have birthday parties.”

Those beautiful eyes opened, darker in the dim light of the wall sconces set on low. Yoongi stayed where he was, a few meters away from the hot tub. Any closer and he didn’t trust himself. Her head tilted, gaze piercing right through him even when upside down. He noticed his eyes were wandering, glancing at her hands. Her arms. Her lips. The shape of her collarbones now prominent from the position. His tongue flitted over his lips, wetting them.

Flexible.

He knew that about her, of course. Remembered the arch of her spine with his hand on the small of her back, his tongue licking a thick, wet stripe up her torso, tasting the sinful sweetness of her skin.

Yoongi shoved his shaking hands into the pockets of his gray acid-wash jeans.

Nodded slowly, looking away from those accusing eyes.

“It’d be bad for business,” he mumbled. “Doing that kind of service.”

Seconds that felt like hours.

“I knew you would understand, Yoongi.”

The sound of shifting water.

When he glanced back, he was staring at the back of her head again.

“Where are your guards?”

“I sent them home,” she drawled absentmindedly, waving her hand. “No need for them when you’re around.”

He scoffed, ticking his head. “Hah. Like I would save you from any danger.”

“We both know saving is the last thing I want.”

The conversation lulled once more. An unpleasant, bitter feeling festered within his chest, her words ringing in his ears. He had received the envelope only a couple hours earlier. The day had been wasted away in his music studio once again. Eventually, he had given up and collected his bomber jacket to leave, finding a bright red envelope taped to the outside of his door. It had contained an address and a keycard.

“How did you know I would come?” Yoongi muttered.

The middle finger of her right hand tapped against the stone. The rhythm of her nail was barely audible over the roar of the jets of water.

“I didn’t.”

He flinched.

As if shot.

A strange kind of ache in his ribcage, as if a gaping hole was forming.

A part of him wanted to run. Not just physically removing himself from this moment. Running  could mean so many more things than that. Running was lashing out. Running was trying to find the words that hurt most. Running was holding onto the meaningless pride of needing to be more than. Running was the kind of thing his father did; exercising clout, money, pettiness to defend his conceited, selfish character.

Yoongi tucked his tongue into his cheek.

His right hand raised and rubbed the left side of his chest, pressing the jersey fabric of his t-shirt to tense muscle.

He saw her left arm shift.

It swung out, landing in the same position as her right. Fingers fanned downward, elbow resting on stone. Her decorated wrist didn’t touch the tile, keeping the silver chain bracelet with black glass beads out of harm’s way. It shone wickedly, catching the light.

Yoongi lowered his hand.

Kicked off his shoes.

Removed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

Her hands remained the sides of the hot tub, at rest. Calm. Not reacting to the sound of his pants falling onto the carpet, socks shed, shirt pulled up and over his head. Hooked his fingers on the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs and pushed down. Fabric collapsed onto the floor, one by one, and then the sound of his heavy step on wood.

And yet.

Nothing.

“Hey.”

Nothing.

Yoongi found he hated her saying nothing more than her calling him brother.

He lowered himself to his knees.

His hand reaching out, gliding it against her cheek, stroking her damp skin with fingertips. His thumb brushed against her lower lip. An exhale. Her soft lips pressed against the pad of his thumb, making him shiver. The ache in his ribcage was transforming into something ravenous as his fingers pressed into her jaw, turning her head while he lowered his, blurs of red-orange shielding his peripheral vision as his hair swung forward. His eyelids lowered, weighed down by the heat radiating from the bubbly, hot water.

Her head turned.

Her chin lifted with his touch, half-lidded eyes finding his.

Yoongi kissed her deeply.

Her body twisted, rising slightly, nimble tongue flitting between his lips.

He stilled his breathing.

Trying not to shudder.

She drew back, alluring eyes pulling away from him, her fingers skimming his knee. Floated backward to make way for him. He lifted his knee and swung his leg into the water, propelling his body into the waves. The temperature change from night air to churning heat shocked his nerves, sending pinpricks of goosebumps all over his skin, but he ignored it, reaching out again, his hand grasping her upper arm and pulling her back to him.

“Don’t try to escape,” he whispered.

Husky and rough.

The corner of her lips ticked upwards.

“Speak for yourself.”

She planted her hands above his shoulders, gripping the edge of hot tub, and closed the distance.

Kissing him.

Yoongi knew he didn’t have any particular morals. He didn’t care about being perceived as right or having correct conduct or who the fuck knows what else people wanted to be. Breaking rules, crossing lines, digging his fingers into his stepsister’s hips and sliding his thigh between hers while sucking on her tongue, he did these things without much remorse and without much thought, because thinking too deeply about it would mean facing parts of himself that he wished weren’t real. He knew what he should be doing. He should have stopped.

He knew that.

Her body rose, rivets of water trickling down her breasts, beading when they reached her hard nipples, fierce kisses deepening and his head tipping back, giving into the addictive, binding taste of her saliva and his mixing together, tongue to coiling tongue.

A few times of this, sure.

A few times could be forgotten.

Under the churning water, she sat on his thigh. Angling her hips downward, making them both hiss at the contact. Sensitive nerves rubbing against hard muscle. His tight grip guided the deliberate pace, staring into each other’s eyes, shaking breath shared in the mere centimeters between their faces.

Yoongi knew he could have many beautiful things.

Her eyes gleamed as her smirk reached them, shamelessly stimulating her clit against his flexed thigh, not hiding, aroused enough that he could feel the viscous juices clinging to his skin for a split second before it was washed away by the jets of water around them.

He could have many beautiful things.

She’s the most beautiful one.

He tilted his head and ran his tongue over the side of her neck, feeling her hips flinch and her head fall back, a sweet moan injected into the air above his ear. The city sounds were akin to white noise due to how high up they were, but Yoongi wouldn’t have heard them anyway, too focused on cascading water and rolling hips and the taste of her skin, her head moving aside to give him more access. Muscle and pulse under his teeth.

He bit down, marking her.

A satisfied, airy chuckle.

“I hoped you would, Yoongi.”

Power and blood underneath his mouth and his fingernails, dragging them roughly across her ass, sucking hard as she fucked herself harder, riding his hard thigh with lustful vengeance, chasing her orgasm in pain and pleasure and heat.

Out in the open, high in the sky, seemingly untouchable.

Her left hand flew off the edge and grabbed the back of his head, locking her fingers into his hair and sending flicks of red-orange tips into the edge of his vision, pinning his vicious mouth to her throat as she came, sliding closer, her soft thigh flush to his erection. Hips strongly flinching in his hands, pulsating softness pressed into his skin. Leaking honey washing away, washing away, the traces of her release reduced trembling muscles and heedless, hazy sighs laced with his name. Heartbeat roaring in his ears, his own breathing erratic and melding with her moans, all of it drifting up, up, up into the night sky where planes roared past.

Clueless sheep flying above the tangled snakes.

He kissed up her bruises and his marks, curling his tongue around her earlobe, diamond earring quivering from his raspy growl.

“Turn around.”

She slowly let go of his head.

Her breath feathered against his ear, words breezing past twin platinum hoops.

“Don’t want to look at my face, hah?” she whispered, light in tone and heavy in implication.

Yoongi said nothing.

She obeyed, untangling for less than a second before twisting her body, backing up without fear, leaning against his chest, layering their heartbeats. He raised himself a little, sliding his erection into the dip of her ass, a familiar feeling now. She hummed and rocked her hips back, rubbing his hard cock against her juicy ass.

He stopped her.

One hand gripping the inside of her thigh and the other in her hair, his fingers digging into the bun held together by a metal hairpin. The onyx cat head charm swung unsteadily, metal to gemstone rattling.

A breathless beat.

Yoongi flicked his wrist, forcibly rotating her head ninety degrees so her parted lips were against his cheek, holding her there. He breathed out. Exhale, unhurried, her warm breath drifting over his left cheek. His hand on her thigh sliding down, down, bodies surrounded by aerated water, brushing his fingertips against her shivering slit.

His eyes shifted, turning his head to look into hers.

Said nothing, letting the direct eye contact do the talking.

She held her breath.

Yoongi let his eyes explore every detail of her face, pressing two fingers to her engorged clit and rubbing slow circles. He memorized her expression. The tension in her jaw lessening at the hunger was soothed by his touch. The lowering of her lush lashes, gazing at him with desire. The way bliss slowly but surely crumbled the cloaked anger, swollen lips parting and snaking moan rising as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulled, tugging her head back and exposing his bites.

Broken vessels and seeping blood the cause of those red-purple marks, his teeth marring perfect, pampered skin.

He stared into her eyes and leaned in.

Shoved two fingers into her pussy as he covered her open mouth with his, swallowing her cry.

Yoongi did not want to forget.

His hand cupping the back of her head, pressing her body to his with his forearm, adding a third finger and thrusting his tongue into her mouth, devouring her stifled moans with greed, and he knew he did not want to forget, knew he wanted the memorize the way her body clenched around him and sucked him in, more, needing more, countless times, a hundred times, a thousand times, never enough, looking into her beautiful eyes, roughly fucking her with his fingers all the way to his knuckles, encouraged by the way her hips bucked and shuddered. Lips locked, continuous. The constant milky water adding sensual slip between their bodies. Her left hand on his hip, sharp manicure digging in deliciously. Her soft ass bouncing against his stiff length, keeping him on the edge of almost enough.

He shoved her up against his torso repeatedly.

Over and over.

Her other hand lifted from the bubbling water, sliding into his hair and intensifying the kiss.

Lost in his tongue and his hands.

Heat intensifying, lust compounding, lightheaded from shared breath. Neither of them stopping. Faster, harder, in unison, her tight grip on his ass, the kiss broken with a faint gasp, suddenly staring at the perfect arc of her straining throat and feeling the sting on his swollen lips.

“Yoongi, fuuuck…”

His name so saturated with ecstasy that even he felt his nerves sing.

She writhed against him and her hands shot down, jamming his three fingers as far in as they would go, locking him in place so he could feel deep inside, feel the powerful, slippery walls clenching around his digits, feel the cum drenching his skin in waves, bear witness to sharp throbs rippling up her torso, her back arching, moan so wanton that the sound itself was enough to make his already hard cock swell even more.

He worked his fingertips into her hair, massaging her scalp, his body on fire.

Pressed his lips to her neck, nicking the skin and eliciting a fucked-out hiss.

“You…”

She was breathing hard, winded from the high achieved at this height.

“You should cum on my face,” she breathed out.

Arousal hiking, feral want clawing up his insides, the gears of this misfit toy click, click, clicking.

“Cum all over me, Yoongi.”

The air outside the hot tub was cold, but his body was too hot to notice. Splashing water as they repositioned, but neither of them cared, too ensnared by each other, lured too deeply by the forbidden passion, her elegant fingers spreading out over her jaw and open mouth, pink tongue hanging out and loose strands artfully framing this display, looking him up and down as he gripped his cock, sitting on the stone tiles, pumping himself right in front of her face, water streaming down his tense muscles.

Her eyes gleamed with rapturous glee.

Flexible tongue coiling in the air, dancing, teasing him as he thrust into his hand.

He clenched his jaw, looking down at the unabashed, lewd, pornographic display of indecency.

“I…”

The corner of her lips ticked upward.

I love you, so I act this way.

“I fucking hate you,” Yoongi gritted out, his core tightening, already there.

She grinned, and he gasped, shoulders jerking and throwing his hips forward, shooting a thick string of white across her cheek and neck, choking back his groans as she leaned back, floating closer and showering herself in his orgasm, his twitching cock painting dripping lines over her lips, her tongue, her cheeks, her neck, even down to her collarbones and up to her forehead, his heavy scent stuck to her skin.

She smeared it all over her face, collecting his cum, sliding her fingers into her mouth and licking them off, pressing her fingertips onto her tongue and rubbing circles right below the shivering, dark red head sticking out of his tight grip.

Yoongi panted hard, chest heaving.

Saw a bead of white clinging to the tip.

Quivering.

His eyes flickered to her, unsure.

That intense gaze locked with his immediately. No malice. No anger. Only a carnal craving unsatisfied, desire unrelenting, wanting him still. Wanting more, just as he wanted more of her. Both knowing the night was still young. Both still waiting to put their hands around each other’s necks and cum together without air. Both still waiting for the ache between their legs to be fulfilled.

She glided in the water, smooth and sleek, and her lips closed around his cock.

Yoongi let his eyes close and he let go, sliding his cum-covered hand into her hair instead as her head began to bob up and down, persuasive tongue swirling around his re-engorging shaft, and he cared not for what was right or what was correct conduct, tipping his head back and burying his cock into her throat with a moan.

-

“You are a disgrace. I leave on an important business trip and I come back to my lawyer informing me that my son has fuckin’ assault charges, again. Again! Do you know how expensive these settlements to these lowlife peasants are? Tch, and you still have that disgusting orange hair I’ve been trying to get you to dye back. Fucking clean up. Why are you dressed like a dirty street rat? Shit. You should be more like your sister. As usual, the gentleman’s club has no issues and I’m forced to clean up your messes instead. If you doing jail time didn’t reflect so poorly on me, I’d lock you in there myself.”

You said nothing.

Entire body on high alert, wearing a thick cream turtleneck tucked into suit slacks, hands folded in your lap, legs firmly crossed. No easy access. You were sitting on the rigid, black leather sofa of the living room that had not seen much living. Glass coffee table, ivory shag rug. Your immaculate hair was pinned back, every strand in a smooth wave cascading down the left side of your face.

You stepfather sat beside you.

To your left.

He was wearing a lavish gold and black robe, open to reveal his toned chest. Gold silk pants to match. Holding a glass of scotch in his left hand and his right arm was resting on the back of the sofa, his fingertips stroking the nape of your neck.

You didn’t look at him.

It took everything in you to not flinch away from the vile, parasitic touch threatening to caress your bare skin.

Your jaw was clenched so tight that it hurt. You couldn’t even look at Yoongi, who was standing at the other side of the coffee table with his tongue in his cheek. Dressed like the street rat he wasn’t, distressed black sweater with the threads torn apart, washed-out gray long sleeve underneath, and light blue jeans with giant holes exposing his scabbed, scraped knees. His freshly dyed, long red-orange hair was hanging in limp strings due to too much gel and fingers combing through it too many times.

Your mother sat on your right; artificially tightened body stuffed into an even tighter, low-cut, flashy cobalt blue minidress. She didn’t add anything to the tirade except her tight-lipped disapproval and the condescending upturn of her nose.

Her hip pressed against your hip.

She scooted even closer to you, practically sitting in your goddamn lap because you refused to more any closer to your stepfather, keeping a fixed fifteen-centimeter difference between your leg and his open legs.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” you stepfather barked shrilly.

His knee flapped open more and hit yours.

You bit back a snarl, clasping one hand over the other, forcing your fist down.

Yoongi clicked his tongue and dropped his shoulders back.

Cocked his head.

“Yeah. I got a question,” he replied lazily. “How young was the youngest girl you fucked in Europe this time? Another high schooler? Or have you stooped to middle schoolers now?”

The corner of your lips quirked upwards.

Your eyes shifted, locking with Yoongi’s smug expression.

“You–”

Your stepfather flew off the couch and kicked your stepbrother in the knee with his fur-lined, designer loafer, making him grimace and buckle. A loud thud as Yoongi caught himself with his hands, visibly restraining himself as his own father poured the expensive scotch onto his head and clothes, soaking him in alcohol. His head was barely visible above the glass surface of the coffee table.

Dark eyes shot towards you.

Yoongi smirked, rivers of liquid poison sliding down his temples.

You smiled, licking your lips.

Your mother finally rolled her eyes and stood up, huffing as your stepfather hurled the glass into the far wall, and now they were yelling, he does this all the time, what is the point of getting angry and destroying my fine crystal, roaring back, don’t tell me what to do, woman, and your crystal that you bought with my money?

Yoongi got up, shaking off the excess liquid in his hair with a growl, pushing past the maids that suddenly appeared to rush and silently clean up the shattered glass right away.

“Oh, don’t be so full of yourself! You can’t even get it up anymore without the pills.”

“I told you those were for my blood pressure!”

“I’m pretty, not stupid! I asked the doctor since I had to go to find out that I somehow mysteriously got chlamydia, again!”

Your stepbrother stopped by the hall.

Looked back.

Your lips parted.

His eyes darkened, cutting that nonverbal communication, and Yoongi looked away, turning to the right, disappearing around the corner without another word.

Your mother began to grab the various equally expensive and meaningless trinkets around her, vindictively throwing them at her husband as you got up from the sofa, in a haze, wandering out as strong-armed butlers rushed in, the shouting escalating, but all you did was run, turning to the left when you reached the hall, running, still feeling the ghost of a vile, parasitic touch at the nape of your neck.

-

Jeon Jungkook entered his apartment, closed the door behind him, and turned on the light.

The young Master was standing right in front of him.

“Woah!”

He jerked back and dropped his keys, the loud clattering shattering through the disturbed air of his exclamation. He was out of his security guard uniform, handed to the laundry clerk at the gentleman’s club for them to clean and return to him when refreshed and re-pressed. He had remembered to take out the switchblade with the engraved black tiger, of course. It was currently weighing down his dark-wash jeans, the clip concealed by his long-sleeved black shirt and padded leather jacket.

The woman who was effectively his boss was standing in his apartment.

Just standing there, staring at him with a blank expression.

Jungkook swallowed hard.

His lips tingled with memory, remembering the taste of her pussy and the way her hips grinded into his face, suffocating him in the stone basement as she toyed with his overstimulated cock.

“Um… Hi, Master.”

She blinked, slowly, and it was like she finally saw him, taking the time to observe his appearance from his thick-soled black boots, up his legs, up his torso, to his face.

“You’re home, Jungkook,” she said.

He reached down cautiously, looking up at her inquisitively as he picked up his keys. Her eyes followed, tracking his movements like a newborn hawk. “Uh, yeah. I live here,” he managed to get out, lingering a little before straightening, tossing his keys in the ceramic dish by the door. “I guess it’s in my employee file, huh? My address?”

The young Master tiled her head.

Jungkook felt the same way he felt when he saw her outside the employee lockers, seeing again those empty eyes bleeding distress. He should probably be bothered, annoyed, maybe even angry at this invasion of privacy, and yet he didn’t sense any ill-will emanating from her.

It was as if she too didn’t understand why she was there.

“Ah, did I give you a key?” he asked, now unsure what he had done in his lust-filled stupor. “I guess I must have–”

“I picked the lock.”

“What?”

He gawked at her, wide-eyed.

She ticked her chin to the console table by his door and he started, seeing a strange, brushed black leather pouch open with various pointy instruments.

“A chubby boy taught me how to pick locks in middle school in return for not ratting on him for peeping at his female classmates in the gym changing room.”

It was almost comical how fast Jungkook whipped his head around, his own black hair hitting him in the face as his jaw dropped in the stunned disbelief at this very sudden, very specific explanation of how she broke into his apartment. She nodded, looking up from the lockpicks to his shocked face.

“I found him stuffed into one of the tall lockers,” she continued calmly as if she was delivering a dry speech instead of explaining how she learned literal criminal activity. “He was being bullied by the older jocks. They would beat him up, piss on him, and then shove him into one of the tall lockers in the girls’ changing room.”

“What… the fuck…”

She shrugged. “He didn’t seem that distressed about it, because then he realized the girls liked the small lockers more than the long ones. They never opened the tall ones, so he stayed there and watched them. Wasn’t gonna do anything. Just watch them take their clothes off and put them back on. Eventually, the jock boys got bored bullying him, so he went back on his own and kept locking himself in to watch.” Her head ticked, as if remembering something. “I was in there by myself, skipping class, and I heard breathing. Yanked him out. At first, I thought he was hurt. I thought he needed help.”

Something strange flitted in her eyes.

“He didn’t want help.”

Jungkook felt an icy itch slither down his spine as he witnessed her vacant expression as she explained.

“He wanted me to go away. I told him I would tell the teachers. He said he would teach me how to pick locks then. He taught me, and I went away.” Wry laugh. Nothing was funny. “I moved back to Korea for high school. Never saw him again.”

Her eyes rose, locking with his.

Searching.

Jungkook didn’t back off.

He couldn’t figure out what wasn’t quite right behind those eyes.

She looked away, turning, gazing in the direction of his expansive windows in the living room with the sheer curtains pulled. “Did you know Papa owns this building? He owns a bunch on this block. Seems like a nice area,” she commented hollowly.

Jungkook found he despised her talking about her stepfather, even in passing. “It’s okay. I picked it because it was close to work.”

That was not the reason why he picked this apartment building.

The young Master turned away from the windows. “Do you like work?”

The reason was standing in front of him.

“I’d hate it if you weren’t there,” Jungkook confessed.

She smiled.

It felt like a mirage, too distant to be a façade.

“The world is savage, Jungkook,” she said.

Clear and simple.

He answered, steadfast.

“I’m trained to be tough, remember?”

Later when he thought about it, he was surprised that he was even able to continue this kind of conversation. He usually struggled when there was a lack of straightforwardness. Yet this moment was so surreal that it felt like a dream. Something about this moment in reality was just slightly off track, a mis-clicking gear stuttering in place, all the right pieces but having trouble syncing up.

“Careful not to get backstabbed by the one you’d take a knife for,” the young Master told him, standing in his apartment after having broken in.

Jungkook took the pause that followed.

Followed the teeth of the gear, click, click, clicking into place.

“It’s true that there are two kinds of people in this world – those that get stabbed, and the ones who do the stabbing,” he found himself saying, and he could see the wary child peek out from the tangled forest of those eyes, not yet trusting him. Maybe wouldn’t. Maybe it was too late now. “But I think there’s one more.”

She tilted her head.

“The knives.”

Her soft lips parted.

“I don’t really have any particular thoughts about anything.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any solutions to the complexities of the world. I don’t know of or understand the sides to take.” He cast his eyes down, feeling strangely guilty about it. “But… I can listen. I might not know the words to say, but I have a voice. I’m capable.”

His eyes flickered upward, to the innocent fascination that received him.

“I’m a knife.”

Jungkook smiled sheepishly, hoping he made some sense.

She smiled too, then swiftly lifted her hand, hiding her lips behind her fingers as her eyes sparkled with revived mirth, relief washing through him at the sight. Her shoulders lightly quivered.

“You’re funny.”

He pointed to himself, wide-eyed.

“M… Me?”

The surrealness fell away, suddenly in reality with his warming ears.

“A-Ah, so… why are you here, Master?” Jungkook sputtered. Had he done something? Maybe a client complained about his behavior? Maybe it was a co-worker? Or… Maybe… But before his mind could go back to memories of the dark that sung melodies of pain and pleasure, he saw the shift in her demeanor. Her hand fell, no, playfulness trickling out to vacancy, no, please, the feeling of having said the wrong thing looming over him.

“You’re right.”

Detached tone and it tore up the insides of his chest.

“I should leave.”

Her face turned away from him and suddenly he saw all the details of her appearance – her immaculate hair windswept, the ivory turtleneck molded to her neck and torso, slacks made of a heavy-weighted black fabric that were wrinkled from running, and was he so preoccupied with his attraction that he forgot to observe all the pieces of this puzzle, forget this wasn’t his version of good luck and actually meant something else–

Jungkook’s hand reached out and touched her shoulder.

She recoiled.

As if shot.

“S-Sorry!”

Pulled back his hand, panic rising in his voice, the accusation in her gaze slicing through him.

“Sorry, I…”

His chest was so tight that it was hard to breathe.

“When I asked why you were here, I didn’t mean go away,” he rambled, his fingers curling inward in the air, crumbling inside, frustrated at his heart, shaking his head quickly, running away from her cowered stance and cornered eyes.

His voice.

Stricken.

“I don’t want you to go away.”

He raised his head, afraid.

It wasn’t anger that received him. Something else. Faltering, unable to look at him. “I… I shouldn’t be here. I broke in. You should be calling the police so they can lock me up.”

His mouth went dry.

He didn’t know.

But he knew.

The young Master locked eyes with him again and he hated it, hated this poisoned guilt looking back at him, hated that her lips were moving, and hated that he knew he wouldn’t like any of the words he would soon be hearing.

“Sometimes you can only be safe from danger if you’re the one in the cage,” she breathed.

Only an exhale, because annunciating those words was the equivalent of telling a dirty secret.

He bit his lip.

Jungkook shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and yanked out the switchblade with the engraved black tiger, holding it out on his palm, angry at the complicated world and angry that he could not make that poisoned guilt disappear.

“Is he the one hurting you?” he snarled.

The young Master did the thing he was afraid of.

She shook her head.

Jungkook felt like he was bleeding out with each slow, miniscule shake. Fatigue in the form of helplessness, unable to say anything, pulling his hand back and clutching the switchblade so hard that the ridges cut into his hand. No. Of course not. And he had a hint who, which was the worst part. He slid the switchblade back into his pocket, the weight not as tangible as the stale air in his lungs as he remembered the way the old Master’s husband looked at his stepdaughter, hell, even the way the old Master glared behind her daughter’s back, her own flesh and blood.

Tentatively, he raised his hand again.

Her right hand intercepted, sliding up her sternum and up to the left side of her neck, fingers curling over her shoulder. Her eyes flickering to his, but this was simple guilt now, no longer poisoned. He stilled, right hand still outstretched, centimeters from her cheek. She tried to look away.

His shaking lips let out a weak cry.

Jungkook didn’t want his selfishness to interfere, but it was inevitable.

She stayed in this eye contact and let out a soft sigh.

“I don’t want you to see even though you know what happened in that hotel room that night,” she murmured.

He swallowed.

Hard.

Made a decision.

His left hand lifting, and Jungkook closed his eyes, covering them with his hand as his right closed the distance, stroking her jaw gently. Breathed in. Breathed out. Listened to the sound of her caught gasp, felt the way she shivered, but didn’t back away, staying still as his fingers traveled, running his thumb over her lower lip. Involuntary shudder, remembering the insistence that mouth possessed, and he too wanted to be possessed again, lightly pressing his fingertips into her cheek, imploring.

Her body shifted.

Stepping closer.

His hand fell, covering hers over her shoulder.

“That’s none of my business,” Jungkook whispered.

Somehow, she understood.

Her hand slipped out from under his. He held his breath, seeing only the inside of his eyelids. Her hand came back, fingers wrapping around his, stroking his knuckles. Sank her fingernails in. He gasped, her name savored by his tongue like a delicate sweet, and she leaned in, bringing her heat and that carnal insistence, kissing him deeply in the darkness he created.

-

“Shh…”

Wrists bound with natural-fiber rope. So simple, the knot between them wound around several times and then brought up with another square knot, tied securely to a large lasso around the square base of the extremely heavy travertine coffee table.

Your fingers ghosted over the straining arms.

One heavily inked all the way to the shoulder. One clean save for a mole in the inner upper arm.

You leaned down and pressed your lips to that mole.

Licked it, dripping saliva and blowing on it. A cool stream over hot skin taut over hard muscle that shivered at the change in temperature. You continued kissing, down, down. Over collarbones sticking out due to the arms pulled upward. Over the shaking throat, hearing muffled shudders under the white towel placed over the head.

Your panties were stuffed into his mouth, partly overflowing to create a small pocket of air between the nose and towel.

Your fingers crept under the towel, pushing it up a little, and traced his lower lip, knowing there was a small mole underneath them, at the center. Wiped away his spit. Cleaned him up. Pulled your hand out and dragged your nails down his neck in the process. A small whine that clearly indicated syllables. A word.

Harder.

You raised your naked body and slid down, sinking your fingernails into Jeon Jungkook’s shaking chest and scratched him with your pointed, almond-shaped manicure, leaving behind angry red lines, growling deep in your throat.

His wanton moan under you, familiar and grounding.

You breathed out.

Calm now.

“You want me to be addicted to inflicting pain?” you dreamily sighed, question hazy like smoke, rolling your shoulders as you pulsed your slick pussy lips against his hard length that you had been sitting on for a while now. “That’s a dangerous game to play, Jeon Jungkook.”

His fingers curled into fists, muscular arms quivering, deliciously whimpering.

His head was on his living room rug, but the rest of his body was on the unforgiving hardwood. A jumble of clothes beside your bodies, along with two other things. You were straddling his hips. Slid back, jamming his stiff length in between his thighs forced together by yours pressing inward, rubbing your wet heat against the shaft, coating him with your juices.

You toyed with his nipple as you mused.

“I was not surprised your had condoms, but I was surprised that you had a cock ring.”

You flicked the small nub repeatedly, running your nail over it, feeling it harden under the pad of your finger. Abused the other one too, listening to his snuffed gasps and seeing his arms buckle, pulling at the rope. The travertine table did not move, of course. Licked your finger and pressed your saliva to his irritated skin to add a new sensation, slow circles agonizingly tender as you rolled your hips. You deliberately kept your pussy away from stimulating the head of his cock.

Then you pinched his nipple, hard, making him cry out at the harshness.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”

You lifted your lower body, reaching for a condom in the pile.

“Do you touch yourself and think about that night in the basement?”

He moaned desperately when he heard your rip the packaging open.

“Do you jack yourself off with the cock ring on, abusing yourself and wishing it was me?”

You picked up the silicone circle, surprised at the firmness. It had only a little give. A slight adjustment of your legs and you looked down, his twitching cock glossy with your slick, the dark red tip leaking pre-cum.

You leaned down.

Licked it.

Without the stabilization of a hand, his rigid length slipped, smearing pre-cum onto your cheek and bouncing wildly. A stifled sob shuddered under the white towel. Begging. You licked again, intentionally messy and not enough stimulation, tasting your vicious sweetness mixed with the strong bodily flavor of his pre-cum.

Jungkook whined, the sound vibrating in his chest.

You snaked your tongue around the head and collected it into your mouth.

Stopped.

Just covered the throbbing head with your soft lips and stilled, holding the condom in one hand and the cock ring in the other. Warmed it with your saliva, spit running down the length as seconds tick, tick, ticked by.

The whine morphed into inaudible pleas, his back arching, chest flexed, arms locked, muffled cries of your name to move, suck, do anything, anything at all, but you simply kept him in a warm, wet sleeve, not even the length but only the twitching head that was leaking more and more, tongue pressed to the underside to stimulate the thin skin and keep him hard.

The towel began to slip as his head tipped back.

You removed your mouth.

He barely had time to gasp before you seized his cock, squeezing roughly, his gasp shooting into a pained groan.

“Watch the towel.”

He made a subservient noise of agreement, lowering his chin again.

You let your breath out.

Gripped his thick girth and rolled the condom down, slowly, steadying your heartbeat to even. Taking your time. Pressed two fingers to the base and slid the cock ring over the latex, additional lubricant making it easy, closing your eyes as Jungkook quietly sniffed under you, relenting to your pace.

“Shhhh…” you murmured.

Soft and gentle and delicate, your thighs rising from his, leisurely opening your eyes as you lowered yourself again, relishing in the way his whole body shook and tightened when your pussy wrapped around him, swallowing his cock on one smooth stroke.

You glided your hands up his abdomen, not yet moving your hips.

His begging was silenced by his own teeth clamping down on your panties, his neck glistening with sweat and strain.

You spat on his stomach.

Jungkook’s entire body lurched, suffocated choke of your name striking the air.

You slapped your palm down onto the saliva and raked your fingernails over his side, bucking your hips with the slash and sending his body into a frenzy, shock and pain and pleasure barreling into him all at once. His hips jerked up and you slammed your hips down, fucking him into the floor with your knees to wood, switching between clawing his torso and pinning him down to fuck him harder, chasing, chasing the rush and the ecstasy, adrenaline high rippling through you with his swelling girth threatening to stretch you out, but you clenched your core and all around him, your sweet slick mixing your spit on his balls, loud smacks of hips to hips echoing throughout Jungkook’s apartment.

You wrapped one hand around his neck.

You fucked him right there, on his hardwood floor.

White towel over his face and his depraved moans distorted by your panties shoved into his lips and your hand gripping his throat. Tighter, blood thinning and oxygen not enough, his chest aflame with red lines, muscular body straining against the rope, writhing to fuck you back and get that agonizing depth, and you raised your other hand, scraping your fingernails against his now-reddened, hard nipples, causing him to howl and cry out, closing in his biceps to his head and holding the towel down over his face, black hair flaring out, wild and insane, your name torn unwillingly from his throat.

You felt his cock jerk and his hips froze.

“Oh?”

You clenched above and below, feeling the hardness twitch uncontrollably.

A distressed whine from under the towel and quivering, bulging arms.

“Came already, even with the cock ring?” you hummed, letting go of his neck. No outright disapproval. Just a hint. It was enough, maybe even better for him. You could tell by the despair radiating from the muffled sounds, the upper half of his chest flushing pink.

The corner of your lips ticked upwards.

“Shhh.”

You patted his hard pecs, the ricocheting heartbeat under your palm as you lifted yourself off his slightly softening cock, still maintaining some hardness due to the choke of the cock ring. You removed both, careful with the condom so to not spill the milky liquid inside.

Set the sticky cock ring beside his crumpled jeans.

Leaned over and folded back the bottom half of the towel, exposing the tip of a nose and swollen pink lips with your black lace panties crammed into them, the fabric now saturated from his drool. You tugged at the makeshift gag and his jaw unlocked, gasping as you pulled it out, silver lip ring on the edge of that sinning mouth trembling.

You pressed your thumb to the small mole right below his mouth.

Rolled the pad of your finger, nicking his lower lip with your nail, dragging it down.

“Open up.”

So obedient.

Waiting, soft pink tongue so inviting in the darkness.

“Let’s be dirty together,” you whispered, voice rough from the wrongness of what you were about to do.

Jungkook whimpered in agreement.

You spat into his mouth.

He moaned, runny clear liquid sliding down his tongue, gulping awkwardly, his lips still somewhat open from your hand gripping his chin. You forced his jaw open even more, hooking your index finger into the inviting darkness, pressing onto his teeth.

Then you poured the contents of the condom into his mouth.

His own cum and traces of used lube, wringing the condom as his body jerked, disbelieving gurgle at the taste, unformed questions beneath your grip, but you dove down with a starving hiss, releasing his chin and covering his mouth with yours, thrusting your tongue inside to drink it too, cum and saliva and the bitter hint of latex, turning his shocked cries into guttural groans, your hand over his eyes, pinning the towel down as your tongue-fucked him.

The only thing that made the tainted taste bearable was the sweetness of saliva and the high of orgasm.

His cock slapped against your thigh, already hard again.

Sweat was soaking through the towel, damping your palm.

You yanked the white towel up, pulling it away from his face as your body turned, dropping the used condom and picking up another, swinging your leg around his waist to face the other way. Wiped your hand with the towel, throwing it aside carelessly when you were done. Not going to bother with the cock ring this time.

You ripped open the condom.

Slid it down his purple-red, throbbing length and then sat on it, immediately starting a harsh, intense pace.

Behind you, a thin gasp and then a ripple of tension over his body, traveling down his torso that your calves were pressed against, to his legs, hard thighs clutched in your hands, snapping your hips and clawing at the inside of his shaking legs, jaw clenched, fucking him, chasing your high. Closer. Closer to between his legs, scratching him so hard that you marked up that tan skin, closer.

You gripped his balls and closed in your knuckles, hard.

Jungkook cut off his own pitched, obscene moan, reducing it to a stifled scream behind closed lips.

You tightened your core and smacked your ass down into his crotch, over and over, putting your power into your hips and just enough to your hand, keeping him in the immobile enclosure of your rigid fingers, clenching your jaw and feeling the rise, the climb to the high, every second another click, click, clicking gears of this misfit toy intoxicated by savagery.

Grasped the inside of his thigh, tipping your head back with a hazy moan as you left red crescents of pain.

Jungkook wailed behind gritted teeth, thrown into painful ecstasy.

The pleasure snaked to every nerve. Electrifying, oppressive, brutal bliss with the locking of your hips, pulsating flinches constricting around twitching hardness. Once again pumping a condom full. Your grip on him loosening, so good, losing yourself in wave after shuddering wave of hazy orgasm as you ran your palms up and down his inflamed thighs, irritated lines raised from the points of your nails dug too deep.

His muscles were tense and shaking, struggling to come down and uncurl his toes.

What have I done?

-

She fell.

The movement was so swift that Jungkook didn’t notice until it was too late.

Her back arched gracefully, left arm shooting out, grabbing the switchblade from the pocket of his jeans and yanking, her other arm arcing back even faster, grabbing one of his bound wrists and then her fingers glided to the joined knot between them.

Her shoulder blades touched his shivering pecs.

She sliced clean through the rope with a single flick.

Jungkook gasped, startled at the speed and dexterity. His arms smacked to the floor, pins and needles radiating due to his wrists becoming suddenly slack with no support, the shreds of rope scattering. She sheathed the blade and threw it back on his jeans.

Panted on top of his heaving chest.

His cock was slipping out, but the soreness and heat of the marks she left kept his afterglow at an all-time high, hazy and delusional and running on fumes. His forehead was sweaty. His back was sweaty. There was definitely a puddle of cum and saliva under his ass, sticky and cooling. His arms were aching, not from the tension of the rope but the tension of himself, stressed from keeping his whole body taut to prevent himself from moving too much, leaving himself at the mercy of unpredictable pain and pleasure.

It was torture.

It was the best.

He peeled his right arm off the rug and settled it over her collarbones, holding her left shoulder. Shuddering, the brutal bliss ebbing against his will. Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, wondering what the fuck he had just done.

Jungkook felt light fingertips ghosting over his trembling, hard forearm.

“You have scars.”

Soft breath and tone, just for him.

He did.

“Y-Yeah…”

He placed his left arm over his eyes, puffing heavily from exertion.

“I got thrown out a window.”

She touched the back of his hand, tracing the lines of his tattoos and the whispers of healed wounds.

“A long time ago, when I was a teenager. It was an older building, my high school. The windows were basically just thin panes of old-ass glass. No reinforcement on the first level, so I didn’t break any bones, but I got really sliced up.” He chuckled airlessly, pressing her to his sweaty body. “I was fighting.”

“About what?”

The irony was too real.

“I slept with some guy’s girlfriend, apparently.”

Curious inquiry. “Apparently?”

He snorted. “She failed to let me know beforehand. But, for some reason, it was my fault more than hers and I’m the one that got beat up. Go figure.”

Her hand settled on his wrist, fingertips resting on his knuckles.

“I knocked him out after crashing through the window. My taekwondo teacher always told me that learning martial arts was not about hurting others, but this guy threw me out the window, so I got tired of holding back and made him eat dirt. After that, I took up boxing lessons too. Just ‘cause.”

Her body vibrated under his arm.

She was laughing, laying on top of him, naked body to naked body.

“You’re funny, Jungkook.”

-

“Why do you like it?”

He was shirtless and eating out of the ice cream tub with a spoon. “What?”

You tilted your head at him.

“The sadism.”

Jungkook turned bright red despite the hefty chunk of ice cream he just shoved into his mouth. Choked and whipped his head away, dragging himself and the chocolate ice cream that had a whole lot of things in it that could only be described as the components of a small diabetes bomb. You craned your head to try and see around that broad back. There was an odd fleshy sound and then a wheezing gulp. He whipped around, face still shockingly scarlet, awkwardly laughing, jamming the lid back on the cold-sweet-death confection.

The spoon clattered into the sink.

“T-That’s–”

You looked at him, confused.

“That’s–D-Do you hate it?” he blurted. Black strands tousled and curled around his cheeks. His long hair was a mess. The floor wasn’t, not anymore. You asked what to do to help, but Jungkook instead took you to the bathroom and gave you a fluffy white towel from a linen closet. By the time you had come out, the traces of rope and cum were gone. Wiped away, as if it had never happened. Your clothes had been folded in a neat pile, set carefully onto the coffee table.

You had put them on as you heard Jungkook moving around in the kitchen.

Your panties were in the trash can.

They couldn’t be saved.

In contrast, Jungkook was in gray sweatpants and no shirt. He was probably commando too, but you didn’t ask or look.

You frowned at his question. “I don’t–”

I don’t do things I hate.

You stopped speaking.

That’s not true.

You looked away, furrowing your brow. “I don’t hate it,” you said firmly. That much was true. “I like it with you.” You tucked your tongue in your cheek, thinking. “It’s different.” And now you were realizing it was different. You have had shameless, mindless, pointless sex. Of course. This much money and nothing but time to kill when your mother had her back turned and ass up? Naturally, you took advantage of the situation. Got yourself into tangled limbs and dubious positions. Nothing was shocking anymore. Nothing and no one tasted good.

Except Yoongi.

Because…

You shook your head quickly, cutting the thought off.

Jungkook called your name and you looked up, surprised it had sounded so far away for a moment. So far away, but you dragged yourself back to Jungkook and the questions in his eyes.

You found yourself taken aback as a new thought popped into your head.

“I like hurting you because you want it,” you breathed. “Because it’s not an internal emptiness you are trying to fill. You just like the idea of me in complete control of you and your body.”

And then, the question.

“Why?”

His fingers on the ice cream carton tightened. He was a lot less red now. Large brown eyes shifting. Light shrug that consisted of a single lift of his right shoulder, the black mandala inked there gleaming under the overheard lights from his movement.

Jungkook found your eyes again.

You stared into those clear irises.

You had become so accustomed to the ways of the world where everyone shot everybody. So used to always scrambling for ammo to load your gun, so familiar to your silence so no one had any bullets to use against you, so used to war as second nature when money was the terrible master, and you had become so accustomed to it that you forgot that not everyone was a servant.

Not everyone was hiding something in order to step on others.

You were born into this game. You toyed with the players because you learned that, if you didn’t, bad things would happen. You had to become the snake that charmed without a charmer. Alluring enough to slide by on good graces, dangerous enough to warrant a warning label, and always keeping everyone guessing what your next move was.

You had to become an object of wonder to survive.

But, when Jungkook looked at you, he put this misfit toy on the other side of wonder.

“Are you ever in complete control of anything, Master?”

-

“Daughter, I don’t understand. What is the big deal? I don’t say anything about you coming to work and then disappearing during the night, but, you know, he does notice. This is such a small thing you can do you settle his nerves. How many times have you done it? Come on. You can help me out once again. He’s becoming so irrational and ridiculous. You have the power to control him.”

“I’m not going to fuck him, Mother,” his stepsister spat coldly, saying the last word like it was a venereal disease.

Yoongi froze in the dark hallway, staring at the crack of light from the ajar door.

“Hah, I keep telling you, don’t say it like that,” his stepmother cooed, sounding like she had slapped her palm with her other hand in slight exasperation. “That’s so vulgar and uncouth. That’s not what this is.”

He had been slinking around the family mansion, trying to find her. The moment right before he left the living room kept repeating in his mind for days. He couldn’t focus on music. He couldn’t go out and drink at shitty bars. He couldn’t look at the Han River without wanting to throw himself in those dark churning waters, all because of the last time he and his stepsister made eye contact.

He didn’t give a shit what his father did to him.

And yet.

He saw his father’s hand on his stepsister and didn’t say anything about it.

What was there to say?

Yoongi did the same thing to her, only worse.

The glaring revelation closed him off. He saw the hurt in her eyes when he ran and yet he still ran, ran and ran and ran, thinking about nothing until he was locked in his music studio, surrounded by soju bottles, and then all that liquid streaming down his checks wasn’t alcohol, because all four bottles were empty.

“You’re so full of shit.”

The hostile snarl sliced through his thoughts.

Yoongi realized that he had never heard his stepsister angry before. Known she was angry, yes, but she had always maintained composure when she was in his presence. He had never heard her voice fanged with malice, every word festering hatred.

Never.

An icy itch slithered down his spine.

“Oh, because putting your husband’s dick in my mouth isn’t vulgar and uncouth. That’s something, especially after your doctor’s appointment.”

“Ugh, I’m aware and I’ll have that taken care of,” was the dismissive reply. “Let’s not get too technical. I will be beside you the entire time. Haven’t I always kept a roof over your head? Besides, these kinds of men are stupid and easy. He will last seconds. You’ll practically do nothing.”

“A fuckin’ doghouse would have been preferred over those motel roofs. And why are you even asking me? The Master can’t do it alone?”

His stepmother was beginning to sound annoyed, the cloying façade crumbling at the mocking. “How many dirty, pill-popping addicts have you let cum in you? You are being selfish and not thinking about the big picture. I am trying to keep this family in one piece. This kind of thing is so small in the grand scheme of things. Tch, can’t you see this from my perspective?”

Yoongi backed away from the door.

Silently, quickly, turning and walking fast. His heartbeat roaring in his ears, wishing it was loud enough to drown out the words from his memory even though he knew they were true, even though he could see it between wordless gazes and inappropriate touches, even though he had said it himself, accused outright, hoping.

Hoping his stepsister would vehemently argue that no such thing was going on.

She never did.

He had hoped that she enjoyed it, hoped he could hate her and wash his hands free.

Instead, she enjoyed his hands, his touch, his kiss.

Yoongi stopped at the end of the hallway, now standing in the foyer with the large windows and crystal skylight high above. Bright and airy. Expensive and vapid. The sun’s hazy rays streamed down all around him, diffused from the faceted glass.

He turned back and faced the dark hallway.

Called her name.

Waited.

-

“Don’t pretend. You don’t give a shit about this family. You’re here to get some ammo to load your gun so you can enjoy holding it against that old man’s head as he pays you an even fatter alimony to keep your mouth shut. What do you think I am? Pretty and stupid? You have been trying to trap me in this childlike mindset even as a grown adult. How convenient it would be if I believed you? If only I take this bait and do what you want so I can be just…”

Pausing to let the damage sink in.

“Like…”

Taking the moment to drive the knife in deeper.

“You?”

You backed up and turned around, hearing Yoongi yell your name again, louder this time.

“You’re miserable and fake, inside and out.”

You didn’t look back to see at you mother’s infuriated face. Didn’t hear her hissing at you to apologize, instead kicking the door wide open and stalking down the hallway in deliberate, large strides, white-hot anger scorching your veins, nearly colliding into Yoongi when you turned the corner. Gelled back, red-orange hair and all black outfit of a ripped denim jacket, designer t-shirt, and paint-stained jeans.

All of your fury dissipated once you saw him.

You cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s with you? Miss this that much, hm?”

You stuck your tongue out and smirked around it.

And you suddenly stopped, seeing his face. Something stricken across his sharp features caused your hesitation, pulling your tongue back. You had never seen this hopelessness before, especially not from Yoongi who was one that discarded everything and everyone with distrust. It must have only been milliseconds, but it was so potent in his expression that it was unmistakable.

Yoongi grabbed your left wrist so tightly that the glass beads of the chain bracelet you wore sharply pinched your skin.

“Come with me,” he breathed.

You felt your body lurch with his power and suddenly you were walking fast and he was walking faster, pushing past maids and butlers who pretended nothing happened, pushing past people living in the motto of better to feign blindness than to know, pushing past the sheep. He clutched your wrist like it was his lifeline. It hurt, but not in an unpleasant way. Confusion rippled through you and yet you let it happen, taking twice as many steps in your high heels and tight minidress, constricted by lace sleeves and a ruffled, high collar. All-black, just like him.

A pair of funeral-goers, maybe.

Apt for this household.

He practically dragged you down the stairs to the large garage with too many cars, shoving your keys from his pocket into your hand.

“Yoongi–”

He yanked your caviar leather cardholder out of his other jacket pocket and flashed it, jerking his chin to your vehicle.

“Get in.”

He didn’t have your cellphone and you didn’t ask him if he had it.

Your car unlocked as you neared the door handle. You got in, seeing your stepbrother throw himself into the passenger’s seat. Snapped the car door closed and tapped the button, whipping your head to him as the car hummed to life.

“I’m not your personal chauffeur, bro–”

“Please drive.”

You froze.

Yoongi was breathing hard, staring straight ahead.

“Please, drive and get us the fuck away from this house.”

You shut up and backed out of your spot. Put your foot on the accelerator and drove, just drove, Yoongi’s please ringing in your ears, taking a leaf out of his book and fuckin’ booking it out of there.

-

continued in getting sick of this noise, m | myg, jjk 

--

masterpost

[alfietalksaboutcomics]

The Comics I've Read in March

I've devised a new type of monthly post for this blog, I'm going to keep track of and talk a bit about comics I've read each month that are either some of my favorite reads or ones that I'd find it interesting to ramble about. This is in large part to keep track of what I've read in any given month and to create little time capsules for myself. Without further ado let's get into what I read this month starting with my the single issues.

Single Issues

X-Men Forever #1 by Gillen and Maresca

X-Men Forever #1 by Kieron Gillen and Luca Maresca is a weird issue. It exists in this bizarre liminal space in terms of continuity. It takes place after Immortal X-Men but before the already released first two issues of Rise of The Powers of X. So essentially the issue is playing narrative catch up, it's explaining how we get from Immortal X-Men to Rise of The Powers of X. That being said it's not like you could read this before the first two issues of Rise of The Powers of X, it is very much is built around the expectation that you have already read those first two issues. So like I said, the book finds itself in a bizarre liminal space.

Despite all that weirdness, the book is still fantastic. It was an exhilarating read that just didn't let up. The hits just kept up coming at a breakneck pace. It feels like the book is weaving together two halves into a complete article of clothing, picking up threads from one half and effortlessly weaving it into the other.

On the art front I was happily surprised. I didn't dislike Maresca's art on Children Of The Vault but I didn't love it either. I don't know if it's that he has stepped it up or if it's the fact that this is a different colorist but it's exceptional work. The facial work in particular blew my breath away on several occasions. To return to the coloring for a second, in the past I haven't considered myself a fan of Blee, I had thought of his colors as bland and washed out. But for whatever reason here I absolutely adore his work and I can't exactly say why.

I have two favorite panels from this issue, the first is Sinister Doug's little chest hair, it's absolutely adorable.

The other is actually a set of panels. It's when, upon learning that the mutants who walked through the gates are alive, Charles Xavier falls to his knees and breaks down into tears. It's a perfect payoff to when he broke down in tears when he thought he sent them all into a meat grinder at the Hellfire Gala.

Resurrection of Magneto #3 by Ewing and Vecchio

I haven't really talked about Resurrection Of Magneto by Al Ewing and Luciano Vecchio online in any form so let me rectify that here. Resurrection Of Magneto serves as a coda to Al Ewing's time in the Krakoan era, it only makes sense that in this final stretch the focus shifts to his two primary focus characters in his X-Men work, Magneto and Storm. Resurrection Of Magneto has been a fantastic book all the way through and this issue is no exception.

Despite Ewing's always fantastic writing, the most continually notable thing about this series to me is the work Vecchio is doing in it. I was a fan of his work even before this series, but even I must admit that his work in Resurrection Of Magneto has been a improvement by magnitudes. It's honestly been shocking to see him shine like he has in this series where before his art wasn't nearly at this level.

My favorite panel from this issue is rather silly but it's the panel where we see the array of the Phoenix's opposites. It has to be my favorite because it brings in a deep DEEP pull in the first fallen. A bizarre character from the tail end of Claremont's return to Uncanny X-Men in the late 2000s.

X-Force #50 by Percy and Gill

X-Force #50 by Benjamin Percy and Robert Gill is the final issue of Percy's run on X-Force. I've been a massive fan of this run all the way through. Percy has been doing what seems almost impossible in big two comics nowadays, a slow burn story. Indeed making it to fifty issues is pretty miraculous at this point and time.

X-Force #50 gave me a adrenaline rush while reading it, but not for the reason one might hope. No, all the while reading this comic my brain was racing with one question: "How the hell do they wrap this up in 20 pages?". The answer? They rushed to the conclusion. It's not bad but it does feel uncharacteristically rushed. I have the feeling that Percy thought he may have had more runway then he actually did, that he had to wrap up unexpectedly quickly. Which sounds insane to say considering he already had fifty issues worth of story, but given what we know about the sudden editorial change in the X-office it seems possible that if Jordan White stayed on perhaps Percy would have been on X-Force for even longer.

As is X-Force #50 is fine, it's a utilitarian ending for a story that feels like it needed more room to breathe. That being said overall Percy's run on X-Force is exemplary comics.

Series

All-Star Superman by Morrison and Quitely

Before All-Star Superman by Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely I never read a superman comic before. Hell, the only other DC I read was Spirit World #1. So in a effort to read something other then a marvel comic I decided to pick up one of the most famous and beloved Superman stories of all-time.

I find All-Star Superman to be a exceptionally hard series to write about. Even though it's only twelve issues, those issues are dense. I've always thought that Morrison does a great job making a single issue feel like six. All-Star Superman is no different, the issues are dense and feel like they tell their own complete stories.

Based off the iconic cover to the first issue of the series and knowing a little bit about the basic premise I honestly thought that it would be an exploration of the character of Superman and how he deals with his impending death. I was admittedly, very wrong. The series is in fact not an exploration of Superman, but his mythology. The series spotlights the major characters of Superman's mythos like Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, Bizzaro, Lex Luther, and more. It feels like a celebration of Superman and the characters history.

On the art front Quitely delivers amazing facial expressions as always. I first encountered Quitely's art in New X-Men, where he really gets to shine by having so many weird freaks to draw. All-Star Superman doesn't nearly have as many bizarre freaks which does make me sad, that being said the work is still incredible.

A complete aside but, my favorite character from All-Star Superman has to be Lex Luthor, the man just has impeccable hater energy.

Lex Luthor is Ahab and Superman is his Moby Dick, I just have to admire the complete and total devotion to hating one man with every fiber of your being.

Moon Knight by Lemire and Smallwood

Back in January I wrote about Moon Knight by Warren Ellis and Declan Shalvey. I would describe that run as sleek and stylish, it largely runs on vibes. Back when I wrote about it I put a lot of attention on the fact that the series really doesn't focus much on Marc Spector's interiority. Moon Knight by Jeff Lemire and Greg Smallwood sits on the opposite end of the spectrum, focusing so much on Marc's interiority that the fourteen issues almost entirely takes place inside Marc's mind.

The series is a deep dive into the fractured mind of Moon Knight. Marc and all of his alters get a focus. The first arc starts off with a lot of inertia but honestly kinda slows down at a certain point, it doesn't feel like it needs to be five issues. In the second arc the focus shifts primarily to the alters and we see the world from their perspective which is conveyed through different art styles, it's a pretty smart way to go about fill in artists. The last arc sees Marc reconcile with his alters and go after Khonshu who is trying to take over their body. The last arc is by far the strongest in the book in my estimation, Smallwood returns as the primary artist and his work is just so above all of the fill in artists.

The art across the series is stellar. Smallwood is the primary artist and he brings a otherworldly feel to the comic. It honestly reminds me a little of Sienkiewicz's work at times, which makes sense given he worked on the original run of Moon Knight. Special mention also has to go to colorist Jordie Bellaire, who brings the same careful use of color and it's absence like she did in the Ellis and Shalvey run. Both Smallwood and Bellaire's combined talent lends the book a almost chalky look? Which sounds odd to say but it's the best word to describe the look of the series.

My favorite sequence from the run has to be a flashback that takes place after the funeral of Marc's father. Marc laments to his mother that his father hated him, when she retorts that his father did indeed loved him, Marc experiences a dissociative episode and Steven takes over. Marc's mother reacts poorly telling him to knock it off.

This sequence deeply resonated with me. While I don't suffer from D.I.D I do suffer from Bipolar and I can recall having similar conversations with my own mother when my episodes would flair up. The tragic thing is that for both Marc's mom and mine it doesn't come from a place of malice but a misunderstanding of their child's condition. It's a wonderful depiction of what it's like for your loved ones to not truly understand your condition and it's the moment that most impacted me.

Silver Surfer Requiem by Straczynski and Ribic

Silver Surfer Requiem by J. Michael Straczynski and Esad Ribic is a beautiful series both visually and narratively. It's kind of funny that I read this so soon after All-Star Superman since they have such similar premises. A being of great cosmic power—in this case the Silver Surfer—is faced with their own approaching death. It's a fairly superficial connection but one I find funny all the same.

The writing is quite lovely but the real draw is Ribic's art. There are ample splash pages which are so amazing and breathtaking I want to frame them. I've always thought that Ribic's art has a mythic quality to it and here is no different.

It's very hard to pick one splash panel to showcase here, there are so many amazing ones in this short four issue mini. The one I ultimitely landed on showcasing is this one:

It's a page of the Silver Surfer before he was the Silver Surfer approaching Galactus with a bargain to save his home planet. It's a pretty simple page but something about it just sings to me. Galactus's machinery is a precursor to Ribic's later celestial technology in Eternals. And something about Galactus's face just feels so omnipotent, so beyond human, so unknowable.

Black Cat by MacKay

Before I go any further I feel the need to give some context, in preparation for the upcoming Marvel event Blood Hunt I decided to read all of Jed MacKay's major marvel works, some of which I go over later in this post. I'm calling it my MacKayathon. Black Cat was the first step in that and my god is it a good first impression.

Before reading MacKay's Black Cat I had no opinion on Felicia Hardy a.k.a the Black Cat. around twenty-eight issues later I find myself utterly obsessed with this character and her world. MacKay's Black Cat run is stretched across two volumes, two annuals, one giant-sized issue, one one shot, and one mini. Even when spread across multiple titles, twenty-eight issues of Black Cat is insane.

Black Cat is all about heists. In fact the first volume is essentially her stealing stuff from everyone in the marvel universe, including, Doctor Strange, the Fantastic Four, Iron Man, Danny Rand, and even fucking Kade Killgore. The highlight for me has to be the last two issues where in the process of stealing from Tony Stark, Felicia creates the Iron Cat suit of armor, which is really an amazing design.

The supporting cast is also great, from Black Cat's crew Bruno and Dr. Korpse, to her aging mentor the Black Fox, to her rival and leader of the Thieves Guild of New York Odessa Drake. It's a great cast and MacKay made me care deeply about all of them. Generally Mackay has that effect, of taking characters I either didn't give a damn about before or didn't even know and elevating them to become some of my favorites.

On the art front for the first volume, Travel Foreman does a great job but his pencils is occasionally hampered by colorist Brian Reber, who's colors are fantastic with all the other artists on the series but don't gel with Foreman's pencils for whatever reason. The future lead designer on Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, Kris Anka does two issues and brings his trademarked stylistic flair to the book. In my opinion though, the artist who best fits the series is the one who comes in for the last two issues, MacKay's future collaborator on Avengers, Carlos Villa. Villa just feels like a star who is waiting for the right book, something about his expressive faces and style just feel perfectly suited to big two comics and especially the expressive Black Cat.

One complaint I have about the art is the way Black Cat is sometimes sexualized for the male gaze. For the most part outside of the first annual this isn't really a big issue in the interiors, but the covers for the first volume it's a entirely different matter. J. Scott Campbell's covers for the first volume most resemble pin up posters, it's a little gratuitous and just feels gross.

Sadly due to covid related reasons the initial run of Black Cat was cancelled prematurely. Fortunately the second volume came out only a few months later, however it starts somewhat oddly. Black Cat volume two begins with three event tie-in issues. They are by no means bad, they are quite fun in fact, but they do interrupt the flow of the book somewhat. However after those first three issues the new volume picks back up the threads of the old volume and starts to continue the story.

Issues five through seven of the series comprise The Gilded City arc which is essentially the pay off to everything that has come before it. It's a wonderful end to the story of MacKay's Black Cat. However that's not quite the end, there are still three more issues that comprise the Infinity Score arc of the series. The Infinity Score arc is a weird one, It's building off of the Infinite Destinies series of annuals that introduce hosts to the infinity stones. Some of the annuals are good but others are pretty bland if I'm being frank. In Infinity Score Felicia must assemble the infinity stone hosts to pull off a heist. Unfortunately the series was cancelled again, with only three of the infinity stone hosts gathered. The silver lining to this is that MacKay gets to finish up the story in Giant-Size Black Cat: Infinity Score, even if seemingly the original plans had to be changed as no more infinity stone hosts join Felicia's team and she has to make do (much like MacKay) with what she has to complete the job.

For the second volume the bulk of the issues are penciled by the returning Carlos Villia. However the Gilded City arc has Michael Dowling, a fill in artist for the first volume, return. Dowling's style is much more reminiscent of Foreman's then anything done by Villia. But honestly he works wonders none the less. Luckily the cover artist has changed from Campbell to comics superstar artist Pepe Larraz. Larraz's covers much like all of his work are breathtaking, and unlike Campbell's work it manages not to sexualize Felicia for the sake of the male gaze!

The last bit of MacKay's run on Black Cat is a five issue mini, Iron Cat. This series sees the return of that exceptional Iron Cat suit of armor as Felicia's ex, Tamara Blake steals the armor and makes a attempt on Felicia's life. Black Cat must team up with Iron Man to take her down and get back his armor.

The art team on Iron Cat is Pere Pérez on pencils and Frank D'Armata on colors. Pérez does a great job, his work is very detailed but still has a lot of life to it. D'Armata is someone I have complicated feelings about, his color work often gives comics this weird glossy look, as if everything and everyone was covered in Vaseline and shoe polish. His colors often are very cold to me, especially building interiors. However here his work doesn't bother me so much, sure I still would have preferred Reber but D'Armata gets the job done.

Iron Cat is a good bit disconnected from the rest of the run. For instance Bruno and Dr. Korpse, two central characters in both volumes of Black Cat, barely appear at all. But it's still a great comic and one that compliments the rest of the run.

Taskmaster by MacKay and Vitti

Taskmaster by MacKay and Alessandro Vitti is a fun and short series, it's only five issues and it's plot is pretty straight forward. The basic gist of the plot is this: someone has killed Maria Hill and framed Taskmaster, Black Widow is after him to avenge Hill but Nick Fury Jr saves Taskmaster's life and recruits him to finish Hill's mission, which involved securing a old H.A.M.M.E.R a doomsday device, the only wrinkle is that to get access to the doomsday device Taskmaster must get close enough to three super spies to copy their biometric signatures or whatever. And that's essentially the plot of the book, sure there are a few twists towards the end but now you largely understand the structure of Taskmaster. Each issue focuses on Taskmaster getting the biometric whatever of one of the super spies, rinse and repeat till it all comes to ahead in issue five.

The thing that makes the series worth the read though is Mackay's voice for Taskmaster. Mackay's Taskmaster is just a lovable goofball.

Taskmaster is just a real joy in this series, he is just such a silly little guy. That being said MacKay doesn't pretend that Taskmaster is all jokes, he's a competent mercenary who knows when to put his straight face on. He's simultaneously lovable and pretty scary, it's a great balance.

There are really only two notable things about Vitti's art in this series to me. firstly his men are big and bulky, which doesn't really speak to anything deeper but is the main thing I remember about his art here. The second thing is that he gets a lot of range of emotion out of a skull mask, Taskmaster is constantly expressive in pretty extreme ways, that alone deserves some props.

I'll just present my favorite panel from this series without comment.

The Death of Doctor Strange by MacKay and Garbett

I wouldn't regularly pick up The Death of Doctor Strange by MacKay and Lee Garbett. I'm just not a huge Doctor Strange guy. That being said, it's the precursor to MacKay's run on Strange and Doctor Strange and by the rules of the MacKayathon I am compelled to read it. With that being said I quite liked The Death of Doctor Strange.

The titles really gives the central premise of the book away, Doctor Strange is murdered, the twist however is that he is going to solve his own murder! This is possible because a unspecified amount of years ago, Doctor Strange took a week off his life expectancy to create a version of himself to avenge his death, the wrinkle though? He only has that one week to solve the case! This is a pretty fun and clever concept and by far the most compelling thing about the book. Seeing this past Strange reckon not only with his future and the choices of his future self makes for good drama.

Upon Strange dying a magical protective seal around the world fails, thus enters the Three Mothers, a trio of beings who capture magic users to feed their eldritch and fetile master, the Peregrine Child.

Besides being creepy and serving as antagonists these villains start a funny trend across MacKay's work at Marvel, the elaborately designed weirdo villain team. Two examples of this from his later work would be the Twilight Court and the Bloodcoven.

It's just a funny recurring beat I've seen in his work.

I honestly don't have strong opinions on Garbett's art generally, his work somewhat reminds me of Joshua Cassara's, especially in the faces. Both artists employ pretty blocky anatomy. Antonio Fabela's colors are quite nice, they especially pop when it comes to the more magical moments.

Earlier on in this post I talked about how I admired Lex Luthor's raw hater energy. Well Doctor Strange has his very own hater, Baron Mordo. I know just about nothing about Mordo except for the fact that he hates strange and hates the idea of Strange dying by anyone's hands but his.

Closing Thoughts

So that concludes the "My Favorite Comics I've Read in March", this post honestly turned out a lot longer then I expected clocking in around 3,500 words. But overall I think this has been a worth while exercise. See you next month, the MacKayathon will continue!

[stupidusernamepolicy]

tv tag game

— list 8 shows for your followers to get to know you better. tagged by beloved mootie @michaelmandog

1.Good Omens

This is such a feel-good show for me and cleaning out my drafts made me remember how much I love it. Also a reminder that I need to finish Staged. The friendship between the authors and the ways it impacted the book and show is so important to me...

2. Breaking Bad / Better Call Saul

"oh watch it it's the best show ever" "yeah yeah sure" and then... Meth show for middle aged dads sent me on a *checks calendar* FIVE MONTH FIXATION? I need to be euthanized. Also Michael Mando. That's all.

3.Final Space

SHINED SO BRIGHT AND GONE TOO SOON. This was THE underdog adult animation and though I've separated myself from it a lot it's still one of the best out there. Space fantasy dramedy about a convict out in space that is a testament to all that adult animation can be, but often isn't. If you can stand a bit of exec-meddling awkward humor, this one is the hardest WATCH NOW on this list. Also, catboy above voiced by Steven Yeun and he goes so hard.

4.Invincible

Continuing on the thread of amazing adult animation with a much more popular entry, this is an adaptation that is so far so much better than the source material. I stayed up til 5 am binging this. It has 4 things I love: great animation, (comic) trope subversion, GORE, and Steven Yeun (again!)

5.Futurama

This show is older than me, and I never watched it growing up, yet it still feels like home whenever I watch it. If I need to cheer up and have my TV on, this is the clear choice. It's so nostalgic and has so much heart while also being really, really fucking funny.

7.Gravity Falls

Similar to Futurama: another comfort show!! It brings back so many memories, even though I watched it after its original run. One of the rare things I own official merch of (I loved it enough to pay for shipping from the US)

7.Mob Psycho 100

Obligatory singular Anime entry. This is the one anime I'd recommend to non anime watchers, as it subverts a lot of typically annoying anime tropes and is a rare entry where the adaptation is as good if not better than the source material, and yet it's AMAZING because it OOZES with love of the source material! I'm definitely biased because it's the kind of story my middle school self needed, and that my current young-adult self... also needed. It's about growing up, about how people need other people, and it rewired my brain.

8.Rise Of The TMNT

JUST LIKE FINAL SPACE, SHINED TOO BRIGHT AND GONE ENTIRELY TOO SOON!! I was a HUGE fan of 2003 series when I was a kid and this one completely reignited my love for TMNT. The animation is poppy and dynamic and tastefully stylized, the story goes from monster of the week to the absolute insanity that is the netflix movie, and it has the kind of personality that a reboot of such an old series needs and benefits from (partially also ended up being its undoing because people hate fun). Like Final Space, if you're not averse to a little cringe humor aimed at a younger generation, I have 2 words for you: MUST! WATCH!!

HONORABLE MENTIONS BECAUSE ITS HARD TO PICK

Arcane! because all that can be said about it has already been said about it. But it is fantastic and if you have not watched it yet because "its league of legends ew" and "its a cartoon" quit being a boob and go watch it.

Mrkomir Prvi! Because it's a really funny sitcom set in medieval Croatia, and it's only here because it's incredibly obscure on a global level, but it's really the kind of original TV I love to see and rarely do. They did a pandemic episode in which they called the diseased "influenzers", enough said.

Tagging! @its-me-ej, @djcranberry, @hellomingo, @lemonykleonella, @mediasploshion and @bamsara(long time no talk!! i hope this isnt a jumpscare)

No pressure, and happy reminiscing >:)

[bratdesire]

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

[spideyspeaches]

Vibrations per minute ↬ P.P

AN: Based on this post ehehe. (Also 223 followers?! I’m not crying you are ಥ‿ಥ Beta read by my baby sis @parkerpeter24​ <3<3

➳ Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

➳ Warnings: smut (semi public), vibrator, minors dni

➳ WC: 1.8k +

➳ Masterlist || Taglist

Peter Parker was not who he looked to be. He was the kind of guy who impressed parents with his bambi eyes and A+ academic performances, but at the same time, he could be a little shit and tease the fuck out of you. For example-

Bets were a naturally occurring event in the Avengers compound, whether it was between Sam and Bucky about who could eat the most number of marshmallows in one go or between Tony and Peter on who could digest more amount of coffee in the least amount of time (both of which landed them in the medbay). 

So maybe placing a bet with your boyfriend may not have been your most intelligent choice. You were a smart woman, you should have known better than to place a bet with Spider-Man, especially if the bet included cardio. 

And now you were facing the consequences. 

You were sitting in the post mission debriefing room, thighs clenched as you saw your boyfriend trying (and failing) to hide his shit eating smirk. You felt the vibrations inside you once again, a little faster than before. Suppressing a moan, you tried to glare murder at him without letting the others know. 

Puffing your cheeks, you slid down the chair, hands folded on your chest. You were pretty sure your cheeks were blood red with the amount of heat you felt.

"Y/N are you sure you're alright? You look a little flushed." Steve asked, shifting to look at you from where he was besides You. He looked concerned.

"Uh- yeah- yeah I'm good. Just exhausted." You stuttered a response. Huffing, you tried to discreetly rub your stomach from clenching. A little whimper escaped your throat, which you quickly suppressed by picking up the glass of water and chugging down some.

Sam looked at you weirdly, the others not paying attention as Nick Fury asked them questions. 

"Miss Stark if you think you're going to get out of debriefing because your little boyfriend and father are sitting here, you're wrong. Please pay attention" Fury said, looking at you with his pirate eye, before turning around and muttering, "I swear sometimes they behave like school children."

You gave Bucky and Sam a glare as they snickered. 

"I'm sorry, I'll- uhh- I'll pay more attention. I'm just, my tummy hurts." You whimpered, flushing when you realised you had said "tummy" in front of the Avengers. 

"Well you better take care of the tummy ache. Don't want you to poo all over here." Peter smirked, your jaw dropping at how rude the little shit was. How unfortunate would it be when he finds out someone had burnt his Kylo Ren special edition figurine? 

"Fuck you asshat." You seethe, your glare intensifying when he increased the rate of vibrations using the phone app he was holding under the desk.

"Y/N, Peter, enough of this, now listen to what Pirate here has to say before he asks you to skedaddle back to your nursery." Your dad says, rolling his eyes at your childish banter.

You wanted to get out of there. Right away, because you couldn't take the shudders in between your legs anymore, or you would orgasm right there, in front of everyone. 

So to get back at them, you raised your hand like you were in elementary school, asking the teacher for permission, "May I go to the washroom? I wanna poo." You ask innocently, smirking when Fury widened his eyes.

Averting your eyes to your boyfriend, you silently conveyed your message, hoping that he got what you were up to. 

Ignoring the laughter of the babies in the Avengers' bodies, you stood up abruptly before he could change the settings anymore, walking stiffly to the bathroom.

"That was kind of mean of me." Peter finally said when you were out of his vision. 

"Yeah kid, I would've kicked your ass if I didn't know that she would do it before me." Tony snarked, curling his lips and shaking his head before going back to the dossier in front of him.

"You should go and apologise to her Pete. She looked upset." Steve piped in, his disappointed eyebrowsTM showing their way.

"She's in the toilet and he's a horny teenager, you really want him to go right now?" Sam said.

"Ew Sam, get your gutter brain out of here!" Peter defended, not meaning what he said.

In fact he was going to do just that. The entire time during the mission, you had been teasing him one way or another, whether it was landing in certain poses or just touching him every chance you get.

The bet was just an opportunity for him to get back at you for leaving him hot and bothered, dreaming about you all night in that tiny lingerie with spider prints on them.

“Yeah Sam, get out of here.” Natasha joked. Before he could witness the counter arguments though, he left the room, leaving a very noisy meeting room and a very frustrated Nick Fury. 

He found you in the bathroom stalls near the cafeteria. It was the women's bathroom but no one was around this time of the night, so he entered it. 

He could hear your moans and pants, your arousal hitting his nostrils as he tried to hyperfixate on you. His jeans suddenly felt strained at his… web shooter area. 

Opening the bathroom door, he clenched his fists. You were standing there, vibrator out of you and your finger inside, eyes scrunched as you threw your head back, not even noticing him enter.

"Why are you touching yourself?" He growled, smirking innocently when you jerked up, eyes taking a lustful look that sent his blood rushing south. 

"It's your fault. You were the one who made me horny in the middle of those boomers." You gritted. 

Your hand was poised on your waist now, legs still spread apart, your pussy on display. 

Grabbing you by your ass, he picked you up and slammed you against the wall, kissing your jaw, "Just seeking revenge." He mumbled  

"Oh oh Petey- revenge for what?" You moaned, arching your back as he undressed you, grabbing your now unclothed boob and sucking on one nipple, twisting the other with his fingers.

Moaning at the sensation of the cool tiles, you dug your fingers at his back, your wet pussy throbbing for a feel of his dick.

"You did it on purpose didn't you? Showing off during missions?" He sucked at your skin, leaving it tender and brushed, "you know how hot you look while you kick ass?" 

He unbuttoned his pants, letting his dick slip out with his boxers. His length never ceased to amaze you, the thick organ making your mouth water. You imagined it slipping into you, your thighs slipping wider on instinct.

He saw the look you were giving him, his lustful eyes full of mirth and desperation. Without waiting any further, he slipped out a condom from his discarded jeans' pocket, sliding his dick into your wet entrance, your ass hitting the wall as he pushed into your walls. 

Throwing your head back, you hissed as your walls clenched around him.

"You get, you get turned on when I kick ass?" You panted, grabbing his hair in desperation to the coiling in your gut, "Fuck I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna come Pete." 

"Well what are you waiting for princess?" He nibs your ear, squeezing your breasts to his now naked chest. You shuddered at the coolness of his body, he's always been cold to touch. 

"Fuck princess, feel so good." His mouth was slack, his thrusts getting harder as he shoved into you, "so tight for me. Enjoying my cock in your pussy eh?"

"Yes! Oh- I love it Pete I love it!" Hitting your head on his chest, you pinched his nipple, making him groan and hit your stomach, the slapping sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Say it louder pretty girl" 

"Why?" You whined, "I should get back to you for using the vibrator but I'm having too much fun." 

You groaned, Your eyes scrunched when his thrusts started to slow down, his senses too overloaded to work together with his stamina.

"Yeah you're needy aren't you?" He said, out of breath from your little meet. He set you down, wiping off your cum using the tissue paper, flushing it off in the toilet. 

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body was shining from sweat, your breath coming out in short pants. You were completely naked, breasts out to the display. He flushed when you smirked at him, you had caught him staring. Not that you minded.

"My beautiful girl." He said, voice husky from strain as he closed the distance between you both, holding you in his arms. 

You laid your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks against his pectorals. You could hear his racing heart, chuckling when you saw heat rising up his chest to his neck and then face. 

"Why are you blushing? We literally just fucked." You laughed, tracing circles on his collarbones. He looked ethereal from where you were standing, perfectly sculpted by a skillful sculptor. 

"Because you're amazing and I can't believe you're my girl." He said. 

"Mmhm,” You nodded against him, “Also, do you always keep a condom in your pocket?" 

        __________••☆••__________

There were many reasons as to why you keep around Peter, and one of them is that he's an amazing chef. Living with his aunt and uncle, he and Ben had been the main source of home cooked meals, because Aunt May was never good at cooking. 

You saw him standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while he hummed to some melody. You didn't mind, you could stare at him all day. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were awake yet (but they would be. They're huge fans of his food) 

"Morning." You smile, wrapping your hands around his waist, placing your head on his back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, moving around as you clung to him like a koala. Giggling, you wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping on his back like a potato sack. 

"Mmhm, the best sleep I've had in a long while." You mumble, words muffled by his back.

"Is that so?" He asked. 

"Yup." 

Hearing shuffling noises, you quickly jumped off of him, fixing your t-shirt and sitting on the dining table.

You saw as Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, Natasha soon following suit. Clint had left for his home early that morning, wanting to meet Laura and his kids as soon as he could. 

You smiled at each of them, nodding a good morning and helping them sort a plate. 

You were arranging the plates when you heard a choked gasp. Alarmed at the sound, you looked up at Steve's horrified expression, looking at where he was pointing a finger.

"What?" You asked, biting your lips.

"That- is that a hickey?!?" 

Slapping your neck, you let the plate clatter on the table, ignoring Peter's scrambled replies. You saw Bucky entering from the corner of your eye, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Oh my god, Bucky they totally fucked yesterday!" 

Page dividers by @cicicantblog​

[creativewritingpracticestudio]

Tour Life, Baby(Joey Jordison x Reader)

@fateblood I’m so, so, so sorry for the long wait! I watched as many interviews as I could to try and get a feel for Joey’s personality, sorry if it isn’t exactly right! This is younger Joey.

Description: Just a sweet fluffy fic about tour life on the road with Joey.

Warnings: Cursing

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @holyjunkie @overlyobsessedfangirl @slashevilsister

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties.”

You awoke with a start as you felt the blankets being pulled off of you, and opened a bleary eye to see Corey, the lead singer of your boyfriend’s band, standing over you with a smirk on his face. Joey, who had fallen asleep while he was spooning you from behind, reached down and pulled the covers back over the two of you, shooting Corey a quick death glare. “Go away.”

Corey laughed, pulled the covers back down again, and walked off towards the opposite end of the tour bus. “You’ll have to get up anyway, Joey, we gotta do sound check. Come on, princess, get up and go change.” Corey left, dodging a pillow that Joey threw at him, and Joey groaned loudly as he burrowed his face into your neck. “I don’t wanna get up.”

You giggled, sitting up to rub the sleep from your eyes. “I know, Joey, but you gotta get up. You can sleep more after the concert.” He sighed, begrudgingly climbing out of the bunk. “Okay, okay. Kiss me first, though.” You leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, and he walked off towards the bathroom to change. You watched him go, smiling to yourself.

Even though you technically could have just stayed in bed and caught up on sleep, since you weren’t a band member and therefore didn’t have to go to sound check, you decided to get up and get ready too, just to be fair to Joey. When he came back from the bathroom, you were fixing yourself breakfast in the makeshift kitchen. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cooked.

“Save me some for when I get back?” You smiled. “Sure, baby. Now get going before Corey comes in here and kicks your ass.” He groaned again, but kissed your cheek and walked out the door. You laughed as you watched him go. He really needs to start going to bed earlier. Of course, it wasn’t his fault entirely. The two of you had stayed up watching various children’s cartoons on the tour bus’s TV set until about 4 in the morning.

You spent the next two hours doing basically nothing except watching TV and eating snacks. At about 10:00AM, Joey walked back in, looking slightly less tired than he had earlier. “How was soundcheck?” He shrugged, but smiled. “Some fans came up to us on the way back, so we talked to them for a while and took some photos and signed some stuff.” You smiled. Joey absolutely loved meeting fans. “See? Bet that made soundcheck worth it!”

He laughed, sitting next to you and pulling you into his lap. “Missed you.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I missed you too, baby. Here, saved you some bacon and pancakes.” As he ate, he talked about the fans he’d met, including one who’d told him that he was their biggest inspiration for wanting to make music. Joey’s face lit up as he talked about it, and you couldn’t help but grin the whole time he spoke. You knew those kinds of things stuck with him.

You went to put the plates in the tiny kitchen sink, and turned to Joey with a smile. “Bet you’re excited to see all those other fans in VIP tonight.” He nodded. “Yeah. Speaking of which, the rest of the band and I won’t be back til at least 2 or 3 in the morning. Will you be okay here by yourself?” You shrugged. “I should be. I usually am, anyway.” Joey frowned. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

You looked up, concerned. “What do you mean, baby?” Joey stared at you seriously. “Do you want me to fly you back home?” You raised your eyebrows, alarmed. Where was this coming from. “Do you want me to go back home?” He shook his head. “No, but I know it can’t be easy having to stay cooped up in this tour bus for so long. You can be honest. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go home. I’ll pay for your ticket.”

You set down the plates and walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You then pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “Baby. Listen to me. I don’t want to go home. I’ll admit, it’s a little cramped on here sometimes, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you. Hell, I’ll go on a million tours with you if it means we can be together. I love you, okay?” You kissed him on the forehead.

Joey looked relieved. “Thank fucking God. I was trying to be caring or whatever but I really didn’t want you to go. I’ll go insane if I have to do this without you. I love you too.” You laughed and gently ruffled his hair as you went back to washing dishes. “Good thing I’m not leaving anytime soon. You can’t get rid of me, Joey, I’m like a plague.” You flicked dishwater at him, and he fake-complained. “Babe, watch the shirt!”

Things were quiet for a few minutes as you washed the dishes and Joey looked over the letters he’d been given by fans, and then after about 15 minutes, Joey spoke up. “You know, you could come with me to the concerts if you wanted to. I know they get really loud, but you could stand on the side of the stage and you could wear earplugs or headphones or whatever.” You thought it over for a moment.

“You know what? That sounds like fun. I’ll go!” Joey perked up and smiled. “Okay, sounds good. You can be like my cheerleader. Ew, why did I say that? Ignore me. Don’t be a fucking cheerleader. Just be you.” You giggled. “Aw, no, why can’t I be a cheerleader? I’ll wear a mini skirt and do a cute little chant for you!” Joey playfully rolled his eyes. “I love you, but I’ll call security on you if you do that, baby.”

You smirked. “They can’t catch me. Anyway, maybe I can hang out during the VIP meet and greet and meet some of your fans!” Joey grimaced. “I don’t know about that. One of the fans I met earlier said something about trying to steal you from me if they ever met you.” You grinned. “Really? Were they cute?” Joey threw a napkin at you, which you dodged as you burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

——————————-

“Fuck, that was epic!” You followed Joey onto the tour bus, the both of you sweaty as hell and extremely tired. It was about 1 in the morning, and the two of you had just gotten back from the concert. Joey’s hair was wild, and his mask was pushed up on his head. He tiredly sat down on one of the couches and grinned. “Yeah?” The rest of the band had decided to go out and party at a bar for a little bit, so it was just the two of you. “Yeah! You guys rocked!”

He rested his head against the wall. “My bones hurt.” You pouted. “Aw, poor baby.” He good-naturedly flipped you off, and you laughed as you plopped down next to him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “Ew, baby, you’re sweaty.” He rolled his eyes. “Love you too. And you’re not exactly one to talk. I don’t even know how you managed to sweat at all, considering all you did was watch us perform.”

You shrugged. “Who knows? Either way, we need to shower and go to sleep so you don’t wake up in the morning cranky again.” Joey glared. “I’m not cranky in the morning.” You walked towards the tour bus’s shower and smirked. “Whatever you say, Jordison. Come on, I’m tired and my shirt is practically glued to my body.” He begrudgingly got up and followed you to the bathroom. “I’m using your shampoo this time. It smells better than mine.”

Within an hour, the two of you were showered and in bed, you in one of his tshirts and a pair of his boxers. “Why the hell aren’t they back yet? Assholes.” You laughed. “They probably just got arrested for vandalism or something, don’t worry. Now go to bed before I knock you out myself.” Joey cuddled up to you and laid his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes. “Night, baby. I love you.” You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Love you too.”

Joey quickly fell asleep, and you stared up at the ceiling, feeling happier than you’d ever been. Life on tour could be crazy, and cramped, and sometimes even a little boring, but being with Joey was better than anything else. You’d put up with a thousand nights of craziness and drunk bandmates and being sweaty if it meant he’d always be with you. No matter what happened, it was you and him, putting up with the tour life together. That’s tour life, baby.

[cloveroctobers]

GENEVIEVE ALIU —

IG info/bio: @/genevealiu1 | 19k followers | currently on a journey as a junior doctor living in 🇦🇺🤎 | blm.card.co🖤 | sk💛

26 years of age

Born and raised in Glastonbury, England

Pisces sun? + libra moon?

Mother is Guyanese and works for a non-profit organization

Her father is Nigerian and works in property management

has one older brother who is a Prosthetist and resides in Nigeria with his pregnant fiancée

She can’t wait to be a auntie!!!

And a younger sister who is a medical laboratory technician

To say the least, their parents were happy that their children fell into the medical field. Based on their cultures it was a honor to have their children in these professions

Vieve grew up with a sassy demeanor and her parents have old videos on their camcorders to prove it lol, it never fails that the pair brings out the embarrassing vids during the holidays but vieve genuinely appreciates them 

Although thanksgiving is a RACIST American thing, vieve never misses the opportunity to share what she’s thankful for in life and counts all of it as blessings! But it’s still fuck the pilgrims

Has held a friendsgiving before, loves any moment where she can host gatherings or attend them! either is quite fine. She loves being around people

the only time she likes to look back on the past is to see how she and her family carried themselves then and how the evolved into who they are now, it’s interesting to see

Loves “how it started vs how it’s going” posts and might have participated in a few

Always knew from a young age that she wanted to help people in some way, she was always doing something to help around the house and especially her aging/sickly grandparents

Felt offended that many people around school that she thought were her friends would stab her in the back labeling her as this “fake saint” since she rather spend her time volunteering instead of going to house parties in hs

Don’t get it twisted, she still went to those too & had her fun but definitely felt like it was the same routine and nothing ever felt fulfilling at these functions after awhile

Well known with all the cliques around school but had her own group of friends that fit into many of those cliques but she never felt obligated to stick to one social group. If you were nice and cool with her, she was the same to you, if you weren’t? Depending on her mood, she’d ignore you/say things under her breath or be “fake nice” as a form of being the bigger person

Has a curly hair routine that she consistently follows (after struggling to find the right products to make them flourish) and gets annoyed with if her curls don’t turn out the way she knows they can, it’s always frustrating when things don’t turn out the way you want them to but isn’t afraid to at least try

Three times is the charm! Is one of her mottos

loves bright colors, flowy attire, big hats, brimmed hats, bucket hats, berets, etc...

Has faced racism/prejudices and bullying growing up in public spaces—mostly school/uni & some of those same hatred actions online now that she’s dating seb

Because of that there were times where she felt insecure but deff grew to forgive, heal, and rise above the hate, she knows her worth

Has never been happier in a relationship than she is with seb, he’s her “moody long-haired, soft-hearted bby”

they’re both complete fools for each other and vieve is more vocal about her being in love/finding her soulmate whereas seb doesn’t mind showing it rather than speaking it—even tho he’s on a podcast but we mind our business okay?!

Seb is thinking of moving to Australia with vieve, he’s ready to risk it all for this woman, HIS woman 🤩

canon: gives more than she should/taken advantage of/not reciprocating in relationships... ex) how she dated a guy that she did everything for! especially financially and also struggled to find her worth but once she did? Her aura shined brighter than before— Ik chill out there Rocco

Also believes in loving yourself first to attract what you need in this world and found that in her career and seb. I hope they’re endgame! Since they’re the only couple I rooted for this season? Except for tai & ciaran maybe? They’re probably not endgame but whatever

They still get nervous/shy around each other even tho they’ve been together for months now + are in a long distance relationship which is too cute! I think since they’re in this for the long game they can look back on moments and still feel the way they felt in that moment. You know if you get the chance or have already heard elderly people talk about their relationships and how they get all starry eyed? That’s vieve & seb, that shit gets me right in my feels ew

Vieve’s love language is quality time, it’s what she shows and likes along with acts of service from her partner

Makes the best jollof rice & her fav dish is Metemgee

Trying to be on a plant-based diet only but will have her cheat days on occasion—mostly when she’s drunk and forgets her diet plan lmao that’s me getting double cheeseburgers or anything with dairy drunk af

now living in Australia, she tried to like vegemite but...the it’s a no for her, respectfully ofc! She never wants to disrespect anyone

besides the food, the atmosphere is much nicer since she feels like she’s on a holiday almost everyday and that there’s much more to see and do when she has the time

Loves the beaches and is thinking about surfing lessons

yes she enjoys those doctor shows and can agree that most scenarios are not the same as rl ofc but great question!

Since she’s a junior doctor now, and on her way to graduation! She feels so accomplished and having this chance to complete what she’s wanted her whole life in a different place, makes her super emotional

All those stressful all-nighters will be worth it. She mostly did it on her own but is nothing but humble and Is thankful to those that have helped her along the way, what kind of person would she be if she didn’t mention them?

and when COVID hit, she was one of many already on the frontlines. Her studies became altered but this wouldn’t stop her for her mission on this earth, this was her purpose and she knew we would conquer it all—but definitely has empathy and gets angry with how it’s being handled from time to time

She’s been exposed to it first hand which aboustely worries her parents, seb, her friends, and friends from the villa

Keeps up to date when all medical news, has a whole app dedicated to health

Learning French with some of her free time and is doing well at it

It was only natural for her to become closer to elladine since their men are homies and have a podcast together

They’ve hung out a few times on a double dates before the boat vacation & once just as girls before vieve left to Australia

Vieve is always offering advice but knows that every relationship is different and what works for her and seb won’t work for elladine and Nicky, she loves them together and knows everyone has bumps in the road

feels there’s some sort of tension between her and Harry now? Which she found a little off putting since they were supposed to be friends but she realizes that Harry has a condition but it’s also not an excuse for him to treat her shitty sometimes which he does and feels like it comes out of nowhere most times but he always apologizes yet vieve is slowly getting tired of this unhealthy habits

So they’re talking less these days, which he notices!

She wants Harry to find his happiness too! If he hasn’t found it in mc first that is

has met Tim— he’s a great laugh and seems like a nice guy—they follow each other, talia and jake in person when she was out with seb—they were also super nice and congratulated them on their win, she went up to miles once on a night out—he’s still a arsehole, priya reached out to her via dm about her new boutique that she wanted her to model in someday, Hope was just as stunning in person along with Siobhan, Chelsea & mc s2 were also kind, and a couple of the guys also wished her and seb well

She’s also noticed some of the shit talking coming from Elisa, Allegra, Lucy, and mc s1 (subtle shade from mc, basically about how vieve reacted if mc decided to give Harry a go but that was only brought to her attention thru fans) online but again, vieve peeped it and felt majority of it didn’t require a response. She was too happy in life rn and she had a man and they don’t

Plans to get a komondor, thinks they’re super cute! — seb does not “if you love me, you’ll love our child.” “It’s a bloody mop dog! And I’m a cat dad, you know that!” “Don’t talk about him like that, he’s got feelings just like your cat babies!”

I feel like she’s a matcha & Frappuccino lover, tries to keep her drinks simple and feels guilty when she has to make adjustments but the heart wants what it wants

Mini Countryman owner, she also drives like a “granny” better safe than sorry! She hates fast drivers, there’s absolutely no need for it!

Minimal makeup: eyeshadow, moisturizer, & a nude lip and she’s good to go

Secretly obsessed with among us, second life, and SIMS!!!

Celeb crushes? Heath ledger, Tyler posey, KENDRICK SAMPSON, Jordan fisher, Algee smith, Donald Glover, Mack Wilds, Khleo Thomas, Robert Ri’chard, Tahj Mowry, & Hasan Minhaj

Listens to: DaniLeigh, ABIR, Mary J. Blige, TORI KELLY, Us the duo, 11:11, Jacob Latimore, fifth harmony, joya mooi, & Greentea Peng, etc...

Anthem: The Cheetah Girls — Cinderella

[sailingintothenight]

“WANNABE.” T.H. Imagine.

And what if after years of chasing each other like a cat and mouse, you and Tom started to wonder if you wanna be something else in each other's life?

A/N: I am posting a one shot after weeks of writer's block. I hope you like it. It's 9:30 pm in Peru and it's still April 28, so it's still my birthday! Give it a try. Pleaseeeeee! And yes, I borrowed a scene from Mean Girls (Because I loveeee that movie)

“Hello God, it's me again, (y/n). What's up? I know we haven't talked much lately, but, hey, listen, I have a favor to ask you- I have behaved well, I haven’t gotten drunk at any crazy party of any Hollywood star and I haven't accepted drugs, ever: I'm afraid my grandmother will appear in my room as a ghost and pull my blankets in the middle of the night, plus, I haven't make out with any Stone-cold Hollywood hottie, and trust me, I've had more than one chance. Anyway, about the favor–”

"Yes, but (y/n)'s grandfather invited us to his birthday party..."

Tom's voice startles you and cuts off your internal dialogue, turning you back to the reality.

It’s 6 am. The sun shines in the clear sky, and you are on a flight back to England in a luxury privet jet that is about to arrive at the airport, while Haz, Harry, Tom and you are sitting in comfortable velvety seats, with the view of morning sky on your left side. 

The exciting memory of your last recording still seemed to run through your veins, too exciting to let you sleep. Because that was the end, the goodbye after incredible months. All your efforts from the past months were hidden behind that last performance that looked like a fantasy, except for the kiss, ugh, you had to erase it from your mind. But now, you're going back home, ready to take a break away from the set-up bridge and blue and green backgrounds, away from the makeup artists who gave your face the final touches of the magic of Hollywood, far from the suit of a superhero who had just won her last battle and who got the cute boy, Peter Parker.

But not far away from Tom Holland.

Because evil takes a human form in Tom Holland, your lifelong neighbor.

How do you even begin to explain Tom Ho– Stop, people say that if you pronounce his name 3 times a curse falls on you.

But fans say Tom Holland is flawless, you heard his curly hair is insured for 10,000 dollars, his favorite movie is “Spider-man Homecoming”, duh, and very soon, “far from home”. One time he met Robert Downey Jr. in his own village and he started hyperventilating, and once he threw a fan's phone on the floor and she said it was awesome.

"Please don't tell me you're going to his birthday party." You complain, because you can't help it.

"Would that bother you that much, darling?" Tom smiles, tilting his head back so that his tender smile fits perfectly with his tender face. “Then of course I will go. Also, your grandfather still has the hope his granddaughter would get a man like me.”

"Ew. Why would my dear grandfather want me to be with someone who enjoys keeping a frog in his mouth?" You ask, earning yourself an Oscar for best actress with the innocence you exude and the seriousness you manage to put on your face, even when Tom's eyes narrow from the attack you just launched, while, enjoying the show, his friend and his younger brother laughs, shaking heads with a familiar expression on their faces because of the familiar discussion between you and him that happens, every two or three days. "Seriously, Tom, give the poor Henry a break."

"Henry?" Tom asks with real confusion, his accent thick, while the other male voices ask it in a collective whisper too.

"I named your frog Henry, hope it doesn't bother you." And you laugh, victorious to feel how Tom exhales the air through his nose.

“Seriously, (y/n), when will you confess that you are in love with me? You don't have to be so shy, darling.” Tom laughs too, using his finger to tap your nose, because he knows perfectly well that you don't like that, just as you don't like being called darling anymore. “Ray is a wise man, you should listen to your grandfather."

"Yes, if you like skinny ones."

"I'm not skinny. I have the perfect body.” Tom defends himself.

"For now, but in a couple of years you will named your big belly as your dad does after drinking with mine." You laugh like a little girl because you love Dom, because he's warm and funny, because he loves his wife and children, and because of how funny he is when he and your dad have had too much alcohol, like the time they started a cartwheel contest in the middle of the street. "Who's there? It's Dom Junior.”

"Shut up! My dad is still sexy!” A heavy silence falls over the small place as everyone looks at Tom with furrowed brows and true confusion, but that's when he realizes the choice of words he used to refer to his dad. "That's not what I meant!"

You raise your hands in a sign of peace, your gaze avoiding his as you stop yourself from laughing and mocking him.

"That's so wrong, Tom." Harry says, with a certain bittersweet taste on the tip of his tongue. "Now because of you I won't be able to see dad's belly the same way."

Harry and Haz chuckle at Dom's expense.

But when the jet landed smoothly on the headlight-lit runway in the early hours of the morning, the heavy hours from the past months feels now as if they weighed the same as a feather, pain and exhausting sleepless nights disappeared in the blink of an eye, and now, there is no oceans that could make you feel far away, because in the end, you always came back home.

"Besides..." You say to finish that conversation, your backpack on your shoulder before making the victory path towards the stairs to get off the plane. "I would like a boyfriend who can grow a mustache, not like the failed attempt on your face. Thank you very much."

"Hey!" Tom frowns as you pass him by, and his voice rises even higher than it already is. "My doctor says it's just a hormone problem."

"Damn, bro..." Harry laughs as he puts an arm around Tom's shoulder, giving him a brotherly hug before walking out to the car waiting outside. “(Y/n) will be hard to catch, you know? But try it, maybe you will make it in this century."

Harry laughs, and then, walks out of the plane.

"What does that mean?" Tom asks Harrison, who is still waiting by his side.

"I think he meant that you are in love with (y/n), but you haven't noticed it yet."

Harrison chuckles, but after patting Tom on the back, he rushes to place a hand on his best friend's shoulder to stop him.

“Hey, mate… you, uh…” Tom's eyes soften, almost to the point where his brown eyes resembled the gaze of a little 5-year-old boy, sad, and lost. “You haven't told anyone why we came back, right?”

“Of course not.” Harrison says, and his gaze smiles just like his lips. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? We are home, you are home. You can take the time you need to rest.”

Tom nods, unsure, but tries to be strong as they both get off the plane. 

The gray autumn clouds hang with invisible strings in the sky as Tom Holland, actor, handsome, wealthy, and the loneliest person in the world, releases a deep breath that is lost among the sounds of the world, because his world is no longer sparkling or velvety thanks to the cameras or a red carpet, and while his new movie is a box office hit that never in his best dreams he would have imagined, something wasn't right for him.

That’s why he is back home.

The car ride is silent as some sleep, except you and Tom, because your eyes seem to recognize the streets you grew up in, because your hearts recognize your home. But for Tom, he recalls tilting his body to the left and a camera captured his best actor pose a week ago, but since then, his body has felt null, as if floating in the air and no longer responding to his orders. He was crystal clear, but a few people seemed to see clearly through him. Tom tries to convince himself that the tickling in his hands is his body's response to tiredness and not his anxiety, because he suffers it too, but he feels that something is eating his soul.

"Are you okay, Tom?"

Among a sea of ​​people, Tom Holland has always pretended to be an interesting person, but now, he takes a deep breath and looks at you, nervous, lost in the middle of that huge world, but you, looking back at him gives him peace, because he doesn’t feel alone anymore. 

What did you think? That someone is interested in knowing if you are really okay? Of course they care, right?

“Of course, darling.” Tom smiles, as if in a snap of fingers, everything is fine.

But there, he catches a movement of yours.

You tilt your head to the side, like his beloved Tessa when she is curious about something, but he doesn't say it out loud because you would take it the wrong way, but the movement in slow motion worthy of a Hollywood scene and the serenity of your gaze makes Tom hold his breath, that breath that previously didn't fit his chest with so many problems that he carried inside.

But suddenly he can breathe again, finally.

“Okay.”

The minutes pass until the car stops on a street that you two recognize perfectly. When everyone is out, the car leaves, but because your favorite boys are about to leave, too, you hug everyone as the promise to celebrate Harrison's birthday next week hangs in the air. You love them so much, because they are beautiful people who helped you to save yourself from the storms of doubts and fears, each of them in their own charming way, and for that, you were grateful.

"My friend Danielle is coming so I would like you to meet her, Haz." You chuckle adorably before leaving, noting that Harrison's smile is as real as his desire to meet her.

"I'm looking forward to it, darling."

"Wait, why he can call you darling?" Tom says, and for a second, you see a sparkle in the brightness of his eyes, but as the door of his house opens and his beloved Tessa runs to receive him, the confusion disperses like the morning haze.

"There she is the only darling you will ever get, Thomas."

And the moment you turn around, because the door of your house opens too, you lose sight of Tom's honest smile and the question that he hides behind his sweet eyes. Was he in love with you all this time without realizing it? And what if he wanna be your boyfriend? 

Oh, right. The favor that you were going to ask God for? To get you a boyfriend, a cute one, a hot one... maybe like Tom. Weird, isn't it?

Tag list: @galaxies-of-the-heart​

[stclla]

hello loves! my name is bri and i’m so excited to get the chance to write with all of your beautiful muses ♡ i just turned 24 (ew), my pronouns are she/her, and my timezone is est (luckily i live about an hour outside of nyc, and plan to move there permanently in 2021 yay !!!) 

tbh it’s been at least a year since my last rp group and i’m a little rusty, so pls feel free to share your tips and lmk how i’m doing :) my writing style is pretty flexible and i match length, pov, etc. and now !! a little bit of info about my beautiful chaotic bby stella:

ABOUT.

estelle “stella” celestine evans was spotted in the fashion district adorning gucci ankle boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to heat waves by glass animals . you may know them as @stella or as that sydney sweeney lookalike . their twenty-second birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be reckless but on the other hand warmhearted . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines .

BASIC INFO.

Full Name: Estelle Celestine Evans

Nickname(s): Stella

Age: 22

Date of Birth: August 4, 1998

Sun Sign: Leo

Moon Sign: Cancer

Rising Sign: Scorpio

Hometown: Beverly Hills, CA

Current Location: Upper East Side, NY

Gender: Cis female

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Pansexual

Political Affiliation: Liberal

Occupation: Supermodel, socialite, influencer

Career Highlights: Victoria’s Secret Angel, high fashion runways, print & editorial work, music video appearances, photography, art direction

Goals/Passions: Photography, art direction, fashion design, makeup, social media

Career Claim: Gigi Hadid

BIOGRAPHY.

When your mom’s a legendary supermodel and your dad is a smooth talking Hollywood talent agent, it’s safe to say that you were probably born with a silver spoon in your mouth. But don’t you dare say that shit to Stella Evans. Although she definitely enjoyed the finer things in life growing up and was practically gifted a spot in wealthy elite by her parents, Stella likes to believe that she did it all herself. And underneath it all - the glitz and the glam and the money and the flashing lights - maybe she actually did.

While this blonde haired, blue eyed beauty might be the spitting image of her mother with a few (okay, a lot) more extra curves, Stella tries to distance herself from her family heritage as much as possible. It started in kindergarten when she renamed herself. After all, being named after the notorious Estelle Evans doesn’t make you a lot of friends when you’re five. It makes you the subject of ridicule from your peers, and makes your teachers treat you as if you were the one posing topless in Italian Vogue. And when your mother made you model for a big Baby Guess modeling campaign at the age of 2, kids tended to talk. So she became Stella. Just Stella.

From then on, she did everything she could to separate herself from her parents. If her parents said to stay in, she went out. If they told her to get good grades, she failed her classes in retaliation. Their attention was all consuming, especially her mother’s. After the once popular cover girl had retired, she turned all of her attention to her daughter. Stella’s modeling work had been paused at the suggestion of her talent agent father, Arthur Evans. He wanted her to focus on school and get an education so she could take over the talent agency one day. But when Estelle and Arthur divorced when Stella was 10 years old, all bets were off.

Her mother hopped from loveless marriage to loveless marriage, dragging Stella along for the ride. Her father moved to the Upper East Side, vowing to see her at Christmas each year, while Stella jetted around the world against her will. 6th and 7th grade in Sweden, 8th grade in London, 9th and 10th grade in Paris. It was a long and lonely adolescence, but Stella filled it with booze, bars, and boys and girls to keep her company. Partying was her only escape. And she was damn good at escaping.

She had her first real relationship when she was 16. He was an older French financier who was content to spoil her rotten and show her a good time. Perhaps too good a time. Stella was introduced to the things that would become her vices - namely, drugs and alcohol. Her mother proved to be overbearing but oblivious. She would do things like criticize her daughter’s makeup, clothing, and body, but be completely unaware that Stella was doing things like snorting coke to get thinner. She’d call her trashy for going out to clubs, then look the other way when Stella would wear a short mini skirt when leaving for “study sessions” at the library. With Stella’s clever wit and electric charisma, it really was too easy. The drugs combined with the alcohol made her feel better because she didn’t really feel anything at all. Plus, if her parents hated partying, then Stella would learn to love it.

Shit hit the fan when Stella was arrested in France. Something about being an accomplice to international drug smuggling and being under the influence of a controlled substance - whatever. 16 year old Stella got off with a slap on the wrist due to her connections, promising to move back to New York with her dad until she was 18 and legal. The Upper East Side was her new home, and weirdly enough, she actually kind of liked it. It was easier to start over in New York, where no one cared about her washed up mother. But they did care about money, wealth, and excess, which Stella was more than an expert in, whether she liked it or not. This made her presence in the New York social scene almost magnetic. People would flock to her, drawn in by her ethereal beauty, effortless charm, and “fuck it all” party girl attitude.

Attention was a dangerous drug for a girl like Stella, who had spent her whole life freeing herself from her mother’s tarnished legacy. And when she had finally done it, had finally succeeded in making people call her “Stella Evans” instead of “Baby Estelle”, it made her wild with reckless abandon. All her new friends and lovers wanted to buy her shots and make her feel good any way she wanted, and it was only polite for Stella to let them do it.

The next few years were filled with exclusive clubs, raucous spring breaks, glamorous yacht parties, champagne kisses with boys and girls, social media notoriety, and juicy headlines that cemented her status as an it-girl. Her modeling career resumed with a promise to her father that she would go to college at the same time. Armed with a golden reputation, endless connections, and natural charisma and talent, Stella began to walk all the major runways and was in talks to appear in Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret. Unlike her mother, she proved that she had both high fashion attitude and sex appeal. Stella was unstoppable.

Until she wasn’t. After a night of drinking and an ill-timed bet that she could parallel park her date’s Range Rover (despite the fact that Stella didn’t have a license to speak of), the police charged her with a DUI. This time, she didn’t get off so easy. Her father pulled as many strings as possible to keep her image clean in the press, but word got out anyway. Fucking instagram.

Faced with the threat of losing her big modeling campaigns, Stella agreed to clean up her image. Think rehab, charity work, inspirational interviews. The whole shebang. And it worked - kind of. It’s hard to navigate a world filled with temptation, but Stella doesn’t know how to survive without the glitz and glamour of the wealthy world. She dropped out of college against her dad’s wishes, officially surrendering herself to the New York social scene. Rich girls have more fun, anyway. But sometimes she hates it and wants to be “normal”. Even so, she knows that she never will be and embraces the beautiful chaos that her life of excess brings to her.

As far as rich kids go, Stella is almost down-to-earth. Kind of. She likes to think that she is, but she’s also the kind of girl who would never be caught dead on the subway. Or a taxi. Black cars and private jets only, please. Underneath it all, Stella wants (and frankly, needs) real connections in her life. People who genuinely care about her and have her best interests at heart are extremely rare, so when Stella lets someone get close to her, they’re with her for life. Her reckless, carefree attitude can definitely get her into trouble, so she can be a handful.

But one of her shining traits is that she doesn’t judge, at least not as openly and viciously as her peers. Stella’s life of wealth and status is definitely ingrained in her, but she is also openminded and accepting. Her friends don’t need to be old money. They just need to be real. You can catch her being the talk of the town in her native Upper East Side, but also vibing with the up and comers in Tribeca. Below the layers of superficiality and obsession with the finer things in life, this supermodel has a heart of gold. But don’t fuck with her. Stella is dangerous and defiant when she wants to be, and nothing can get in the way of her getting what she wants. Even if what she wants could destroy her one day.

*** her bio is still a wip and i’m working on some inspo for wanted connections, but definitely lmk if you have any questions or think stella would be a good fit for connections with your muses ! 

[aion-rsa]

Star Wars: 12 Snoke Facts You Might Not Know

https://ift.tt/2Tc5xc4

Set up in the first half of the Sequel Trilogy as a powerful new Star Wars villain, Supreme Leader Snoke of the First Order turned out to be something else entirely. Despite fulfilling the role of Emperor Palpatine in The Force Awakens, he’s completely off the table by the end of The Last Jedi. And in The Rise of Skywalker, the galaxy is only big enough for one galaxy-conquering villain as Kylo Ren’s fall shows.

By the end of the trilogy, Snoke is revealed to have been a bio-engineered villain all along, Force-puppeted tool Emperor Palpatine used to regain his grip on the galaxy while hiding his weakened physical form on the Sith planet of Exegol. His triumphs no longer truly his own, Snoke’s ultimate legacy is the rise of Kylo Ren as well as legendary motion capture actor Andy Serkis’ performance. 

As we look back at Snoke’s short tenure as the big bad of Star Wars, here are some facts you might not know about Supreme Leader Snoke: 

1. Snoke Was a Strand-Cast Created by Palpatine

Emperor Palpatine created Snoke to be his proxy through which he could regain his power. Although Snoke was bio-engineered in a lab on Exegol, he was a strand-cast, not a clone. This bit of Star Wars jargon means Snoke isn’t an exact copy of anyone, but isn’t natural-born either. We’ve heard the term “strand-cast” before. In The Mandalorian, Kuill speculates that Grogu might be a strand-cast — a speculation which turned out to be wrong when Ahsoka revealed Grogu grew up in the Jedi Temple. 

Palpatine’s ultimate plan was to use Snoke as his voice to whisper in Kylo Ren’s ear. It was one of several ways he was working behind the scenes all along to build the First Order — itself just a shell for the new Empire being built on Exegol. With his own clone body decrepit but his spirit still strong in the Force, Palpatine could possess other people but was looking for a permanent new vessel. 

Stream your Star Wars favorites right here!

Snoke was likely born from these experiments but was too imperfect a vessel to house Palpatine’s spirit. There were other candidates, like the strand-cast who became Rey’s father. But since the process that created strand-casts could not reliably replicate Force-sensitivity, Palpatine’s “son” was not Force sensitive. It was another dead end. The Sith lord next turned his attention to Rey in The Rise of Skywalker.

This strand-cast/cloning storyline shares several plot points with the classic Dark Empire comic series, where Palpatine bided his time until he could come back in a younger, stronger clone body and re-create the Empire.

2. Snoke Wasn’t Aware of His Own History

Unlike Palpatine’s strand-cast “son,” Snoke didn’t know he was created in a lab by the Sith lord nor that he was being manipulated to rebuild the Emperor’s forces. In fact, despite being created some time after the Battle of Endor, he believed to have lived through the rise and fall of the Empire.

All of this is revealed in the novelization of The Force Awakens, in a twist that might actually have been a result of The Rise of Skywalker not having been written or planned out yet. But his status as a Sith sleeper agent fits with Palpatine’s plan, too. Snoke truly believing that he himself was really a dark Force user who had lived through the Galactic Civil War likely prevented Ben Solo/Kylo Ren from sensing the deception throughout his time as Snoke’s apprentice. Palpatine needed Snoke to believe the lies he told Kylo Ren so that he could more easily manipulate the fallen Skywalker.

3. Hugh Hefner and Snoke’s Injuries Informed How Serkis Played the Character 

Andy Serkis rose to fame as the motion capture performer behind Gollum’s creepy mannerisms in The Lord of the Rings, quickly becoming well-known for injecting unique life and personality into monstrous characters. For Supreme Leader Snoke, Serkis drew from “the gold-lamé Hugh Hefner look,” the shining robe evoking the Playboy magazine founder. Serkis says he and The Last Jedi director Rian Johnson also considered drawing inspiration from “so many different dictators,” but settled on the uncanny Hefner idea. 

Snoke’s visual appearance was still being finalized when Serkis joined J.J. Abrams to work on the character for The Force Awakens. Therefore, the actor developed his ideas about the character at the same time as the artists were developing theirs. In The Last Jedi, Snoke finally appeared in the flesh as opposed to as a hologram, allowing Serkis to draw even more from the villain’s grotesque physical appearance. 

Serkis says he imagined Snoke’s deep scars were the source of some of his anger. “He’s terribly powerful, of course. But he is also a very vulnerable and wounded character,” Serkis told EW (via io9). “He has suffered and he has suffered injury. The way that his malevolence comes out is in reaction to that. His hatred of the Resistance is fueled by what’s happened to him personally.”

4. His Look Was Based on Classic Horror Movies 

According to the book The Art of The Force Awakens, “J.J. [Abrams] and [creature effects supervisor] Neal [Scanlan] didn’t want him to be old and decrepit, like the Emperor,” said senior sculptor Ivan Manzella, who sculpted a maquette of an elderly, bald face for Snoke. Early ideas made the difference even clearer by making Snoke a female character. 

The final result did look a lot like Palpatine, though: a hunched old man with a face distorted by deep wrinkles and scars. Manzella, who also made the final sculpt, says that Abrams wanted his look to evoke Hammer Films horror movies (such as classic takes on Frankenstein and Dracula). In particular Peter Cushing, who played Victor Frankeinstein and Abraham Van Helsing in several Hammer movies, was a direct inspiration. 

Manzella also added what he felt was a sense of beauty to the character: “I imagined him to be a beautiful marble sculpture, so dark and menacing, but actually quite beautiful to look at … It’s almost like Snoke was quite handsome when he was younger.”

The Frankenstein comparison is especially apt since Palpatine and his Sith cultists built Snoke themselves.

5. Snoke Is Not a Sith Lord 

You may have noticed that Snoke does not have the “Darth” title like the Dark Lords of the Sith do. He was never given one because he isn’t technically a Sith Lord. But the fact that he’s a bio-engineered being created by Palpatine explains why his training of Kylo Ren followed the Sith mold so closely, since all along Palpatine was trying to manipulate Ren.

During the time of The Force Awakens, many fans theorized that the next film would reveal Snoke to be Darth Plagueis, the Sith master who taught Palpatine the ways of the dark side. Plagueis was interested in extending one’s lifespan through the use of the dark side, so an old man with mysterious origins could very well have been him. This theory didn’t pan out. 

6. Rian Johnson Felt Snoke’s Presence Distracted From Rey and Kylo Ren’s Stories

The fan theories didn’t line up with what The Last Jedi director Rian Johnson had in mind for moving the Sequel Trilogy cast into the future. In a conversation with EW (via Collider) Johnson explained his reasoning for knocking Snoke off the Sequel Trilogy’s chessboard.

“When I was working on the character of Kylo, I came to a place where I thought the most interesting thing would be to knock the shaky foundation out from under him at the beginning of this movie…By the end of this film, he’s gone from being a wannabe Vader to someone who is standing on his own feet as a complex villain taking the reins.”

But if Kylo took the reins, where would this leave Snoke?

“That made me realize the most interesting thing would be to eliminate that dynamic between the ‘emperor’ and pupil, so that all bets are off going into the next one. That also led to the possibility of this dramatic turn in the middle, which could also be a really powerful connection point between Kylo and Rey.”

Instead of focusing on Snoke’s history, Johnson found Kylo Ren’s ongoing story more relevant and felt killing Snoke was necessary to push his former apprentice’s arc forward.

7. Snoke Chose Ben Solo Because of His Skywalker Blood

Speaking of the Sith, Snoke may not be one, but he is interested in the lineage of one of the strongest Sith of all time. He chose to corrupt Ben Solo specifically because he was the grandson of Darth Vader. Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa were perhaps too ingrained in the light side and too dedicated to the cause of the New Republic for Snoke to manipulate them, but the mercurial and directionless Solo was the perfect target. Using Ben’s obsession with Darth Vader to turn him further to the dark side was a relatively easy task for Snoke.

In the comic series The Rise of Kylo Ren, we learned how Snoke began reaching out to Ben from an early age– and another comic, Age of Resistance: Supreme Leader Snoke, also fills in some of Snoke and Ben’s history. Before the events of The Force Awakens, Snoke spent a lot of time planting seeds of distrust between Ben and his uncle and teacher Luke Skywalker from afar, all while biding his time on a space station with an expansive garden, where Ben flees for guidance after the destruction of the Jedi academy. 

Read more

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By Megan Crouse

Some time after this, Snoke took Kylo Ren to the Force cave on Dagobah from The Empire Strikes Back to experience a vision. There, Kylo kills an illusory Luke, but stops short of killing his parents. But Snoke encourages him to use his anger, fear, and other emotions associated with the dark side to complete his training.

The visual dictionary for The Rise of Skywalker shows how deep Palpatine’s plan went. It says Palpatine intended killing Snoke to be the mark of Kylo Ren’s full descent into the dark side and rise into Sith-hood. Snoke’s death was in a way a symbolic killing of a Sith master — it’s traditional for the apprentice to kill the Master — while Palpatine himself remained alive and well to take over as Kylo’s new master. A final, decisive victory over the Skywalker bloodline.

8. Snoke Trained At Least One Other Apprentice Before Kylo Ren

According to the The Force Awakens Visual Dictionary, Snoke canonically trained someone else before Ben. Little is known about this mystery apprentice. We don’t know the person’s name, when this took place, or how it connects to Palpatine’s overarching plans. The existence of this apprentice is implied by Snoke’s description of Kylo Ren as his most gifted apprentice, suggesting there must have been someone else to compare him to. 

In the Age of Resistance comic, Snoke also mentions that he plans to have more apprentices after Kylo Ren is gone. But Ren cuts that plan short in The Last Jedi.

9. Snoke Had At Least One Earlier Run-In With Luke

The facial scarring and collapsed cheek Serkis talked about might have been created by Luke Skywalker. In The Rise of Kylo Ren, Ben Solo alludes to “what Master Luke did to you.” But Snoke is more interested in Ben’s conflict with Luke. 

What happened between Snoke and Luke is still unknown. It’s possible that whatever confrontation led to Snoke’s scars was also the first time Ben met Snoke. 

10. Snoke Played a Key Role in the Empire’s Transformation into The First Order

Since Palpatine had to hide his weak clone body from everyone except his secret Sith acolytes, he placed Snoke in charge of the day-to-day growth of the First Order. Through his own lackeys, General Hux and Captain Phasma, Snoke spearheaded the new stormtrooper program that captured and indoctrinated children, building a military force powerful enough to go against the New Republic. And behind the veil of the Unknown Regions, an uncharted sector of the galaxy where the New Republic held no dominion, Snoke helped reorganize what was left of the Empire into the First Order, eventually becoming its Supreme Leader. 

Snoke’s Attendants, the purple-robed aliens seen briefly in The Last Jedi, are also part of this initiative. They are the ones who helped the Imperial remnant settle in the Unknown Regions, using their abilities to blaze hyperspace trails that made First Order conquest much more efficient.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

11. Snoke’s Flagship, The Supremacy, Is the Only Ship of Its Kind

Snoke’s flagship was ripped in half by “the Holdo maneuver” in The Last Jedi, a strong blow by the beleaguered Resistance. Along with being the site of Snoke’s throne room, the Supremacy also contained enough factories to produce entire fleets for the First Order.

In fact, it was the base of operations for the entire First Order, which did not have a capital planet but instead maintained their military superiority from space. Technically, the Supremacy was a Mega-class Star Destroyer and the only one of its kind ever made. 

12. Snoke’s Ring Contains a Relic From Darth Vader’s Castle

Snoke was a collector of Sith relics and secrets, traveling around the galaxy in search of knowledge, settling on his Force philosophy, and collecting things before he recruited Ben. It’s unclear how much of this Sith pilgrimage really happened versus the memories implanted by Palpatine, but it does appear that Snoke did actually discover the lost concept of a Force dyad, which he used to bring Rey and Kylo together.

He also discovered many dark side artifacts. One detail that’s easy to overlook in The Last Jedi is Snoke’s ring. The gaudy gold ring contains a hunk of black crystal. The Last Jedi Visual Dictionary defines this as obsidian from the catacombs beneath Darth Vader’s fortress on Mustafar. The ring also features “gold etched with glyph of the Dwartii.” In both canon and Legends, Dwartii is a planet which is home to several different schools of philosophers. 

The post Star Wars: 12 Snoke Facts You Might Not Know appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3BVdLGO

[fortunatelyhauntedblackcherry]

Moonshine - A Beetlejuice Fanfiction 09

Warning: swearing (as always), BJ being horny, fire hazard.

The next day was monday, and every monday night since the girls moved together years ago was movienight. They prepared dinner together, bought a shitton of snacks, sat down on the floor in the living room and watched at least 2 movies. Most of the time they fell asleep during the third one.

So they were all in their kitchen, which had pretty peach-colored walls, a big window framed by curtains with various embroidered wildflowers on them, and olive green / beige french country-style kitchen furniture. Rei was making guacamole - which Sirius made quite a hard activity with all the jumping and whining for a piece of chips or basically anything delicious - while Sofía was talking about her business dinner from last night and Ari was sitting on the countertop, in the middle of the kitchen, eating Nutella out of a jar with a skull-shaped spoon. Minerva was laying beside her on her back, playing with a piece of breadcrust, getting occasional earscratchies.

- So I was like "No go amigo, I couldn't possibly share an exhibition with them" and my manager was like "why?" and I was like "because I'd have to be talkative and cute with them and man I couldn't" and he was like "but they are respected artists in the community" and I was like "yeah but they can't even use photoshop MICHAEL how could I work with people who are sooo past century"? - said Sofía, flipped her hair and took a sip out of her lemonade. - So yeah, he arranged the whole thing and now my coworkers for the next couple exhibitions will be not so known, but rising photographers instead of old people, isn't that awesome? - all of a sudden Minerva lifted her head up, pricked her ears and started to hiss in the entrance's direction.

Beetlejuice just arrived after his hunt for bugs in the winter garden. He was leaning against the entrance archway, and shaked his head in disappointment.

- I can't believe that you still hate me this much, you waste of fur. - the cat hissed harder. - What?!? Two can play this game, if you're not nice, I won't be either! - he pointed at Sirius, who let out one bark, then continued harassing Rei. - Look, even the dog got kinda used to me!

- I wonder what her problem is. - said Sofía while Ari pulled the kitty into her embrace.

- That's the point where you should tell them that "yeah she sees my demon buddy, yeah, we have a spectre, and I can hear him!" - said Beetlejuice in a girlish voice while he stepped closer to Ari. The girl stroked the slightly hissing Minerva, who was now laying on her lap. Ari licked her Nutella-covered spoon clean. Beetlejuice stopped in his movement and his jaw slightly dropped. He started to drool a bit. - Hooooly shit babes, it seems like you know how to turn my software into a hardware!

Ari blushed a bit and tried really hard not to giggle so she started to talk.

- ANYWAY... - that was way louder than she intended, so she cleared her throat - ...what did you do last night, Rei? - knowing exactly what happened to her poor sister (since after she got better, Beetlejuice told her everything), she was just curious if she would talk about the posession of her computer. Rei's ginger hair flew over her face as she turned to Ari and put the guacamole down to the countertop.

- Well you could say I was practicing poetry, since Robert Lewis Stevenson insisted that wine is bottled poetry, but to be honest after streaming I was just drinking and wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up... I'm sure it wasn't an anxiety ridden bitch disgusted by people with a wine problem, serving exactly those whom I disgusted by, but... - she put her hands up in the air - ...here I am! - she giggled as she turned to the fridge.

- So I suppose your "fans" were mean again? - asked Sof. Rei took some cheese out of the fridge, and scoffed while giving a piece to the very excited Sirius.

- Not mean, fuckin nasty. - she shut the fridge and rubbed the bridge of her nose under her glasses. - I mean, some of them spammed my IG DMs with requests of "please send me the bra you wore during today's stream, I saw the strap and I'm hooked", like... Ugh.

- Can't judge a man for wanting some lingerie from a pretty girl, that's my opinion. - said Beetlejuice while he hopped on the counter next to Rei.

- Jesus fuck people are weird... - commented Ari as she got off of the middle countertop. Minerva ran away to upstairs.

- Oh so that's the socially acceptable opinion now? Okay wait... - Beetlejuice cleared his throat and continued in a sarcastic manner, heavily gesturing while doing so. - OH YES PEOPLE ARE AWFUL UGH DISGUSTING EW HOW COULD SOMEONE ASK ANYTHING LIKE THAT EWEWEW. - his voice went back to normal as he looked at Ari, who just hugged Rei. - Was it good and totally believable? - Ari smiled and gave him a thumbs up behind her sister's back. - God I'm good! On the other hand, did I tell you that when I walked into Rei's room yesterday, I almost tripped on a bra? You could say... - he floated next to Ari's ear. The girl could feel his icy breath on her earlobe. - ...it was a booby trap. - Ari shut her eyes and bit her lower lip while smiling widely. - SERIOUSLY HOW ARE YOU NOT LAUGHING YOUR PRETTY ROUND ASS OFF, THAT WAS PHENOMENAL!!! - Ari let Rei go and went to one of the cupboards. Rei poured herself a glass of red wine.

- I don't even know why I'm getting upset by these kinds of shits anymore. I've been doing this job for years, I should be used to creeps. - she shrugged. - Eh, whatever, it felt nice to vent.

- And we're here to listen every time! - shouted Ari, head inside one of the lower cupboards, fistbumping the air. After some rummaging, she lifted her head out. - Hey guys, where did we put the ultimate bathbomb?

- What? - asked Sofía with a tilted head.

- The toaster. Obviously. - BJ slapped his knees as he started laughing.

- Gee, doll, that was good! Your humor is getting worse and worse under my influence and I'm living for it! - he scratched his head. - Wait, is that appropriate for me to say? Or should I say I'm dying for it? Since I'm dead? - he shrugged his shoulders. - I dunno both sound good.

After Sof got the machine out of one of the highest cupboards, Ari started making grilled cheese sandwiches. Beetlejuice floated right next to her and flashed a pretty evil, toothy grin. He wriggled his fingers while looking up at the ceiling lamp, which started to flicker. The girls quickly looked at each other but didn't say a thing. BJ giggled. Ari stuck the toaster's plug into the power outlet, which instantly made it sparkle. One of the sparkles fell on Ari's hand. She quickly got it away with a quiet "ouch", and looked at where Beetlejuice's very uproarious laugh came from. The angry face she made almost made the demon tear up.

- What? You thought I'd never mess with ya, doll? After seeing this face, I'll do it even more often, you angry little toddler you... - and with that, the lights flickered again.

- Am I hallucinating or did ya see that too? - asked Sofi, pointing at the lamp.

- Maybe it's just bad wiring... - said Rei, with a rather nervous chuckle. She didn't sound believable at all. - It's nothing to worry about...

- Oh so you think I'm nothing to worry about?! - said Beetlejuice with annoyement in his voice. - You underestimate me, little one. - he pointed at the chandelier in the living room and the lamp in the kitchen. They both started to shine and flicker in the same rhythm. The girls looked at each other.

- I'm pretty sure that's not bad wiring... I think... - one of the light bulbs in the living room shattered, stopping Ari for a moment. They all ducked as the light bulb in the kitchen exploded. - I THINK THIS HOUSE REALLY IS HAUNTED!!!

- THANK YOU! FINALLY! - shouted Beetlejuice, his eyes and his neon green hair glowing. - I'M FINALLY GETTING THE RECOGNITION I DESERVE!

- IT'S NOT, GHOSTS ARE NOT REAL! - shouted Rei, while trying to help Ari get hold of the angrily barking Sirius.

- It's scientifically proven that they are... - commented Sof.

- Shut up, I'm not superstitious like you two! I mean sure, weird things are happening in the house, like my PC acting strange, or the hairdryer sucking Sofi's hair in, but I'm sure there's a logical explanation!

Beetlejuice grinned like a maniac.

- Oh baby you really want logical explanation? You think there's any logic to ME? Then watch... This! - the demon cracked his fingers and chuckled as he looked at the plugged in toaster. Ari looked at the voice's direction and gasped when she saw what Beetlejuice was doing. The toaster's heating wires were glowing red hot, and an awful stench came from the machine. The smell of burning plastic.

- OH FUCKIN HELL!!!

- Who doesn't like a bit of electrical fire? - said Beetlejuice, laughing, looking at the infurious Sof. Ari quickly jumped up and started to go through the drawers quickly. Sof was quicker, she handed her the oven mittens, which Ari put her hands into and lifted the now flaming toaster.

- Okay... Now what? - Rei jumped up in panic too.

- What what?!?

- Where do I put it?!

- ARIADNÉ, YOU JUST LIFTED THIS FLAMING SHIT UP WITHOUT A PLAN?!?!?!?!

- I'M NOT A VERY BRIGHT WOMAN, OKAY?!?!?!? - Rei opened up the window and pulled the curtains back.

- THROW IT OUT!!! - Ari quickly threw the machine out of the window, into the birdbath that was under it. The flames started to fade and the girls let out a huge, relieved breath.

- Welp... I may sound like a hypocrite but... After this I think we're haunted. - Sofía and Ari both looked at Rei.

- You said, literally a minute ago, and I quote, that you are not superstitious like us two. - Rei threw her hands up in the air.

- I'm not superstitious! But I'm a... Umm a little bit stitious.

- Do you seriously think this is a right time for Office quotes? - asked Sof, with folded hands and an eyeroll.

- Hey this is how I cope! Toasters don't start spitting flames normally, man! That shit scared the living Hell out of me!

Ari bit her lower lip. A faint idea crossed her mind.

- Ummm... I think we should ask our presence what do they want. - the girls and Beetlejuice both looked at Ari with lifted eyebrows. - Sof, don't you have an Ouija board? We could ask them stuff and maybe help them out. So they won't cause trouble like this again. - Beetlejuice covered his smiling mouth with his hands.

- OHMYGOD BABES THAT'S A GREAT IDEA! I never tried playing with those things but...

- Okay let's do it. - stated Rei decidedly. - Sofía! Get your Ouija board. We're adjourning movienight. Let's ask this bitch what the everliving fuck is their problem!

[thisweekingundamwing]

TWIGW RoundUp (April 28 - May 4)

Here's your roundup from this week’s contributors. Check out their stuff and show them some love!💚💙💜💗

This fandom is 50 times bigger than I thought, and that’s a great thing. Nothing but the latest under the cut. Enjoy!

~Mod TB

Fanfiction:

ammiehawk, Rescue Me (Ch. 2)

Rated T. Harry x Wufei (M/M). Preventers. 

Creator chose not to archive warnings.

Harry Potter x Gundam Wing crossover.

Starring Harry Potter, Wufei Chang, Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Severus Snape, Lady Une, Trowa Barton and Duo Maxwell.

Mention of Regulus Black and family ties.

@bobo-is-tha-bomb, Burn to a Cinder (Ch. 5)

Rated M. Zechs x Reader, Treize x Reader. (F/M)

Warnings: Adult Situations, Angst, Coarse Language, Death, Emotional Abuse, Mild Adult Situations, Mild Violence, Sexual dialogue, Sexual Situations, Violence

Characters: You (Reader), Zechs Merquise, Treize Khushrenada

Summary: Your path had been laid out for you from an early age, allowing you to move into the higher circles of society and catch the attention of one of the most powerful men in the Earth Sphere. As Treize’s mistress, you watch his rise to power and the disastrous war breaking out on Earth and in Space, putting your loyalty to the test. You are torn between your duty to His Excellency, and your unquellable lust for one of the top soldiers under his command. And when he rises to power in Outer Space, there is nothing you can do but stand back and watch them tear each other apart. This is no game of hearts, but yours is at stake, and the consequences can be felt for years to come…

@doctormegalomania, Eldritch Holiday (Creature of the Night) (Ch. 18)

Rated E. Heero x Duo, Trowa x Quatre, Wufei x OC. (F/M, M/M) 

Creator chose not to archive warnings.

Additional Tags: Horror, Body Horror, Occult, Comedy, Eventual Romance, Post-Break Up

Characters: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner and Wufei Chang.

Summary: Heero is always prepared. Wufei gets a message.

@from-zero-to-my-own-heero, John’s Widow

Rated M. Post-canon. Relena x Heero, Duo x OC (M/M, F/M, Multi). 

Creator chose not to archive warnings.

Additional Tags: Somewhat Graphic Violence, Blood and Violence, Original Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Angst and Feels, Everything Hurts, Everything goes wrong, Heero and Duo can be romantic in their own way. The Author Regrets Everything.

Part 1 of Operation: Parenting series

Characters: Relena Peacecraft, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell and Original Character.

Summary: Team Bravo was supposed to have Team Alpha's six o'clock. Unfortunately Team Bravo didn't come, and the enemy decided on an ambush. Heero's quick thinking managed to spare just one of his fellow agents, while putting his own life in danger. When they manage to wake up alive, albeit severely injured, in a hospital, Heero has to grapple with the lives lost and, as their commanding officer, inform their families about what happened, all while grappling with his own feelings about how he nearly put his Partner in All Things, his wife, and unborn child in the same position.

kracken, Black Dog Blues (Ch. 4)

Not Rated. Duo x Heero. (M/M) 

Creator chose not to archive warnings.

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Heero Guy, Heero Yuy (politician), Zechs Merquise, Quatre Raberba Winner, Wufei Chang, and Trowa Barton.

Additional Tags: Yaoi

Summary: Duo is a troubled detective who solves cases with the help of visions of the supernatural. Unfortunately, those visions are driving him slowly insane. Can his new partner Heero Yuy save his soul and his sanity?

@ladyunebarton, The Fundamentals of Caring. (Ch. 8)

Rated M. Heero x Duo (M/M) 

No archive warnings apply.

Characters: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Wufei Chang, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Relena Peacecraft and OC.

Additional Tags: Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Parenting, Adoption, Children, Childhood memories, Friends to lovers, Slow burn, First time.

Summary: After a fire on an Orphanage left three kids without a home. Heero and Duo decide to take them into their own for the meantime. But this decision will make them reconsider where they are and what they want from life.

@lemontrash, The Result

Duo x Hilde

Duo can't stay separated from their baby for longer than five minutes. Also starring Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton.

Inspired by @gundayum 

Muses: @noirangetrois @lbro009 @angelsmystique @offspringchick29 @woahthisguy @doctormegalomania 

luvsanime02, Expectations

Rated G. Wufei x Relena x Hilde. (Multi). AU. Written for Cocktail Friday. 

No archive warnings apply.

Eighth installment of, Never, Maybe, Sometimes, Always.

Characters: Wufei Chang, Relena Peacecraft and Hilde Schbeiker

Additional Tags: Family drama, Mild language and Humor.

Summary: Wufei's not sure what to expect from today, but he knows that, whatever happens, they'll still be fine.

Confession

Rated G. AU. (Gen). Written for Cocktail Friday. 

No archive warnings apply.

Characters: Sally Po and Lucrezia Noin.

Additional Tags: Mild language, Friendship, and Light angst.

Summary: Sally gives Noin some advice, and some wine.

sageof6way, The Gundam Pilot (Ch. 5)

Rated T. Gundam Wing x Naruto crossover. Catherine Bloom x Naruto, past Naruto x Hinata. (F/M) Also starring Relena Peacecraft.

Summary: Naruto was mortally injured in his fight with Madara. The alliance decided to seal him for him to recover. The year is After Colony 194 Naruto takes on the name Darlian and fight OZ.

Shirakaba, Hall of Cranes (Ch. 8)

Rated M. Trowa x Quatre, Wufei x Duo. (M/M) AU.

No archive warnings apply.

Additional Tags: Palace drama.

Characters: Wufei Chang, Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell

Summary: In which we find out what happened to Duo while he was in palace jail.

Skarla, Send in the Clowns (Ch. 3)

Rated G. The Avengers x Gundam Wing crossover. Parallel Universe. Post-CATWS. Written for a fan (birthday present). 

No archive warnings apply.

Starring Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, Duo Maxwell, and Trowa Barton

Summary: Clint Barton had a secret, one that he had been carrying for so long that it didn’t even really seem like a secret anymore. It was just another thing in the long list of things that he didn’t talk about, along with his time in Korea or that mission in Budapest. The trouble was, now that Shield was in tatters with every third agent loyal to Hydra and being hunted like the rats that they were, his helpful support system had evaporated along with his second favourite bow and his salary.

tb_ll57, Whiten Out (Ch. 37)

Rated E. Treize x Zechs, Treize x Duo, Zechs x Duo, Zechs x Heero, Quatre x Trowa, Duo x Heero (M/M) AU. Preventers.

Archive Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-con

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Trowa Barton, Treize Khushrenada, Zechs Merquise, Leia Barton, Mariemaia Khushrenada and Relena Peacecraft

Additional Tags: Future fic, Politics, Rape/Non-con elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Coercion, Prisoner of war, Grooming, Forced separation, Established relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Mental health issues, PTSD, Gundams, Resistance, Angst, Eventual happy ending

Summary: Zechs Merquise never left OZ to become the leader of White Fang. The Gundam Pilots never banded together at Libra to emerge victorious. Treize Khushrenada never died. There is peace-- of a kind-- but how will a new world order shape itself?

TrenchcoatMan, The Heir of House Black (Ch. 35)

Rated T. Contains family and friendship. Trowa x Quatre (mild shonen-ai warning). Also starring Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. (Harry Potter x Gundam Wing crossover)

Summary: Harry attends Sirius's will reading and learns that there was more to the black family than anyone expected.

@tumbledrylemur, Killdeer

Rated G. Wufei x Duo. (M/M) Written for 2x5x2 Day. Preventers. 

No archive warnings apply.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Bureaucracy.

Summary: Duo can't unleash Deathscythe on Preventers bureaucracy but he can leave the parking lot a little better than he found it.

@wingslanding, Perfect 

Rated M. Heero x Relena. (F/M) 

Creator chose not to archive warnings.

@ziggystarsandmars, Salt (Complete - 8 Chapters)

Rated M. Wufei x Duo, Heero x Relena. Wufei’s POV. (M/M)

No archive warnings apply.

Additional Tags: Unhealthy relationships, Post War trauma, Suicidal thoughts, Explicit language, Sex, Bad decisions, No EW, Minor/Background relationships, Post-War

Everyone is broken, but maybe trying to get better?

Characters: Wufei Chang, Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, Relena Peacecraft

2nd installment of Chemical Reactions

Summary: Three months after the events of Like Oxygen, Duo shows up on Wufei's doorstep. As familiar, dangerous patterns assert themselves, Wufei's left wondering if there is, or could be, anything between them beyond self-destructive desire.

((Mod’s note: Promoting this fanfic again because May 2nd was 2x5x2 Day. So if you’ve missed out on the celebration, don’t fret. Check out this fic!))

Fanart: 

@babygray-dam, Rough Sketch

Duo Maxwell. Line work, coloured.

@bluesquishylemon, Title: GW Colors 3 of 3 - Quatre Winner

Source: Gundam Wing; character Quatre Winner

Media: Marker on 11x14 Bristol; January 6, 2012

Please do not repost nor remove artist credit.

ChaoticAngelKitten, Kaito Barton - Cheetah Wolf Hawk Form

OC (Kaito Barton). Interesting mentions of Dorothy x Trowa, and the pilots. Based on an upcoming fanfic project.

Please do not remove artist credit.

Carol-aredesu, Join the braid troop

Starring Duo Maxwell and three more characters.

Please do not remove artist credit.

@cosycrow, Wufei Chang

Just a sketch.

@deathscythe-demiguy, Trowa x Quatre

^ Just a quick painting of cute.

Heero Yuy striptease (Rated E)

Duo Maxwell, with his scythe. Painted on iPad.

@gundayum, “Dude, you alright?”

Duo cries over a newborn baby. Duo x Hilde.

Bend it like Trowa (Rated M)

Ishida1694, Sparking Gundam

An interesting mix of Shenlong (Gundam Wing) and Shining (Mobile Fighter). Check out this Gundam's specialties!

Please do not remove artist credit.

@sobachalatte (via Twitter)

Just in time for 2x5x2 Day!

Wufei and Duo in Preventers uniform.

Forwarded by @lemontrash 

Rough translation: “Today is the day without acid! ! Moth Even if you forgot about your work, you may not get drunk but ...”

Please do not remove artist credit.

Yuuma Kamibata, C94新刊Realize表紙

Forwarded by @animethingsandstuff.

Permission to upload was given by the artist. Please do not remove credit.

Duo in a spacesuit, sipping his drink.

Photosets/Screenshots: 

@christianmswanson, Wing Zero

Posed a question about the Gundam's feet.

@clair-audients, Trowa Barton

In his spacesuit.

“My heart’s been completely void of feelings for a long time.”

@disturbed02girl, Heero Yuy operating a mobile suit.

Taken from Glory of the Losers.

“Sorry, but I'm used to fighting myself.”

@moonlightsdreaming, Endless Favorite Manga

A nice shot of Relena Peacecraft. Taken from Glory of the Losers.

More GoL shots, featuring the Gundam pilots, Sally Po, Lucrezia Noin and Hilde Schbeiker.

Photo Prompts/Prompts: 

Rambo x My Little Pony crossover.

Idea/prompt by @elfbingo

Photo manipulation by @incorrectgundamwingquotes

Starring Quatre Raberba Winner.

@gundayum, Doodle Comic

Inspired by @incorrectgundamwingquotes

Muses: @gwkimmy @deejayers @noirangetrois

Chats/Dialogs/Discussions:

@lemontrash, Share a Ship; Pitch a Pairing

Fandom chat about “selling a ship” to prospective fans. Think of it as a marketing strategy.

Brief mention of 2x5, Wufei x Hilde, and Winterhawk (Marvel fans are familiar with that one).

Mod's note: I'll participate in this thread later. The questions are very engaging. I'd encourage others to take part of they’re interested.

Participants: @seitou

Reply to Anon

A remarkable response to a question about faux English, colonies and Japanese.

@terrablaze514, Throwback-post-1

Villains debate

Mention of crack pairing

Participants: @noelleian, @softnocturne

Throwback-post-2

What we'd like to see if the series were redone.

@softnocturne

Quotes: 

@incorrectgundamwingquotes

Trowa and Heero

Relena gets pulled over

Noin and the Gundam pilots

Heero and Relena

Quatre and Duo

He Willingly Suffers For Fashion (Quatre, Duo and Trowa)

Rich Circles (Duo and Quatre)

Duo, recovering and high on pain meds

Wufei and Quatre 

Catherine and the Circus Owner

Tea versus Coffee (Trowa and Wufei)

On a mission… (Duo, Heero and Trowa)

Problem-solving techniques (Gundam pilots)

Rulers (Wufei and Sally)

Stop leaving the kitchen unsupervised! (Wufei, Duo and Heero)

When Autocorrect ruins things… (Duo and Heero)

Duo and Hilde

Heero and Zechs ((Mod’s note: This reminds me of a funny scene from TeamFourStar's DBZ Abridged.))

Poor Wufei!

Frustrated Heero, 1xR, 3x4x3

Wedding dresses (Noin and Sally)

Undivided attention (Wufei and Trowa)

Call it (Zechs and Heero)

Truth or Dare? (Duo and Wufei)

Duo’s complaint 

Duo likes food? (Zechs + Quatre and Wufei)

@lemontrash 

@gundaaamn

If half of 5 is 2.5... (Heero, Duo and Quatre)

Mistakes (Heero Yuy)

Smile (3x4x3)

A Favor (1x2 (+3))

MoodBoards/Aesthetics: 

@kujo1the 

A kawaii pic of Quatre with Sandrock's swords. (via Twitter)

@Iamkingdomhearts1000 

Heero Yuy is in the Top 20! (via DA)

Calendar Events: 

Cocktail Friday Announcement, @gwcocktailfriday 

Post responses on Friday, May 10th, between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone. Don’t forget to @ us!

“Rhythm Generation” goes LIVE! @acworldbuildingzine 

The RHYTHM GENERATION After Colony worldbuilding zine is out!!!  To receive your FREE PDF copy, ping @acworldbuildingzine and/or @lifeaftermeteor 

Special thanks to our zine contributors: @amyole, @angelsmystique, @burningwreckage, Cirno Avery, @clair-audients, @fadedsepiascribbles, @from-zero-to-my-own-heero, @greenriderglen, @incorrectgundamwingquotes, @lemontrash, @lifeaftermeteor, @noirangetrois, @offspringchick29, @seitou, @spelon-berry, and @terrablaze514. Without your efforts and dedication, this wouldn't be possible - but you did it! Treat yourselves to something special.♥️

@gundam-wing-bingo, Trope/Kink Masterlist

Our Master List is at 100! The questionnaire for choosing your cards will be completed before long, and then we’ll get these prompt shindigs going!

You can see some card examples here. Note however, that they are NOT entirely correct.

Theme Selection (Mini Bang) @thisweekingundamevents 

It seems we have a winner! The theme for our soon-to-be Mini Bang will be Unorthodox Undercover Work!

Mini Bang Dates (poll) < Please cast your vote if you haven't done so already. (Google Form included)

Mini Bang Rules

Animated Music Videos:

Quatre Raberba Winner, My Love by @clore1411

        * Via AdminRen on this Gundam Wing Facebook group.

Headcanons:

Gundam Pilots as Aliens by @seitoushin

Duo is the Duolingo owl by @theresareasonforthiswritingblog

Refer to the tags.

GW Characters as Animals 

Pet Names 

The Gundam Boys Go To Therapy 

Memes (hehehe!):

No one vs author by @janaverse 

Children yelling, “McDonald's!” by @gundaaamn

Quatre as Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons 

Gunpla:

@christianmswanson, Wing Zero

Brass cooperates

Brass attempt #2

Progress report

@hcgunpla, Velcro patches 

Etsy shop with embroidery is now open!

Podcasts

@lemontrash

Radio Meteor - Chapter 6 - Odamaki 

The transcripts for Radio Meteor episodes 6 and 7 by the smooth and savvy @noirangetrois are now up and live on AO3, and the radio meteor website in due course. Go check em out!!

Episode 12 - Bewildered Warriors - Radio Meteor 

A podcast on Anchor. Check it out!

Masterlists:

@terrablaze514 - GW Masterlist Page 

@theresareasonforthiswritingblog - GW Writing Collection 

[thesunflowerinyoureyes]

Lust and Greed -Michael Gray

Summary: Where Michael has a really big crush on the reader and shows it the wrong way - making her hate him. Michael says to her face that she shouldn't go out with so many men, making her angry. But on one particular night, she starts seeing his words in a different light...

A/N: Poorly written but I did my best : ) -ALY

You wanted to rip your hair out as you stared at the piles of work Tommy had left for you to do that day. Your glasses that sat dangerously at the end of your nose, your unbuttoned dress showed that you were not in the mood for talking to anyone today. As you delved more into your work, the more you wanted to scream. This bullshit doesn’t even make any sense. How the hell am I suppose to get this done today? You put your head on the table, throwing your glasses onto the desk. After a couple seconds, you brought your head off of the table - the only motivation going through your head: If I get this done today, then I won’t have to do it tomorrow. As you picked up your pen, you started scribbling on the paperwork, your eyes skimming but meticulously looking through the words. You were getting on fine until the door of your office slammed open, revealing the person you really didn’t want to see today. It’s Michael fucking Gray. Fuck sake. The only guy that doesn’t knock on the door like a normal human being. You didn’t even bother looking up from your paperwork, knowing that his handsome face had a well known scowl on it, just for you. Yeah it was true. You did find him extremely handsome. But his annoying and extremely disgusting manner towards you didn’t make him an exception for you to be kind to him. Silence filled the room as you carried reading the papers right in front of you. Ignore it, (Y/N). It might go away if you ignore it. Sadly for you, that wasn’t the case. 

“Oi (Y/L/N) How long are you going to ignore me like this?” He asked in the tone he only used with you. His normal velvety tone to the other women was never shown to you. Instead he gave you a low, menacing one. 

“I’m not in mood for talking, especially if it’s with you” You snapped at him, your eyes never leaving the paperwork. Just leave me alone for fuck sake. He didn’t respond to you but he did something which made you wished you looked up at him from the minute he walked on. The paper that you were reading was suddenly covered by a pile of other papers. You looked up in confusion, seeing a smirk tug at his lips. You can’t be fucking serious.

“What in the actual fuck is this?” Was all you managed from the anger boiling inside of you. He cocked an eyebrow at your balled fists - something that you did unconsciously. 

“Some lovely paperwork for you to do. This is has to be done by tonight." He spoke in an amused tone but you weren't finding this funny. You practically jumped out of your seat to close the door. After slamming the door, you turned to look at Michael, who was now leaning against your desk.

"Look, Michael, I don't know what the fuck your problem is with me but I definitely not going to be able to finish that paperwork off tonight. I've got places to go-"

"You're always going places (Y/N) I could care less" Michael said, cutting you off. You scoffed out loud by the man's ignorance. This little bitch.

"Excuse me? Me? Always going out? You must be stupid to think that I'm anything like you" You spat in disgust. But you instantly regretted it. You'd never seen a face dropped so quickly in your life. The once smug look on his face, had now been replaced by a stone cold look. He grabbed your waist a little harshly, pulling you towards him. A gasped left from your red lips as your face was inches away from his. His hot breathe fanned your face as he looked, for a split second, at your lips and then your eyes.

"Listen here, (Y/L/N). I'm only saying this to you because you work with me. Some of those men that you call "friends" are not always what they seem to be. The way they swoon over your looks and particularly at your body is probably something that you like to have. The attention. The way you act practically screams it. But as your colleague, I think it's my job to tell you, for your own benefit, to stay the fuck away from them. Understood?" Michael locked eyes with you intensely for a couple of seconds, before letting go of your waist and walking out of the door. Michael had never been the one to scare you - not in the slightest. But after that little fiasco, you couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiety rising up in your stomach. He basically called me a slag. He thinks I'm a fucking prostitute. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked at the stack of the paper he left for you. You inhaled a sharp breathe and pushed the stack off your desk in a angrily manner.

By the time the end of the day came, you miraculously had actually finished the work that Michael had given. That'll show his bitchy ass. You smirked at the thought of Michael's face when you were to hand in the work. You grabbed the papers and headed to his office. You knocked. There was no answer. You knocked again but no response came from the room. You walked in and saw that Michael wasn't in his office. So you went and dumped the papers right in front of his desk, leaving a note saying "Happy now?" You looked back at your work once again and left the office to finally have some fun. Or that's what you thought it would be.

You had arrived at the Garrison and saw your group of friends already drinking away. You saw a guy sitting next to your friend that you didn't recognise. They didn't tell me that they were bringing someone. Especially as hot as him. His jet black hair was slicked back, as his eyes that were ocean blue like Tommy's had wrinkles forming by the laughter that was escaping his pink, plump lips.

"Hey guys" You said as you sat down, flashing a smile at the guy.

"You're finally here, you slag! God knows why you fucking work there! They always make you work over time!" Your friend shouted, completely intoxicated by the Irish whiskey that she was consuming. You rolled your eyes playfully, grinning at your friend.

"And where is that you exactly work Miss...?" The handsome man spoke up while he locked eyes with you. You felt your heart racing, his alluring eyes making you feel attracted to him.

"It's okay. You can call me (Y/N). I work at Shelby Company Limited. And you are?" You responded while you brought the whiskey up to your lips, looking at him through your long lashes.

"It's Liam and it's interesting how such a ravishing woman like yourself work for dogs like them" He replied with a chuckle, eyeing you up closely. The last bit of the comment wasn't something you were pleased but you just shrugged it off. Michael is a bitch.

After some light flirting with Liam and gossiping with your friends, you went into the back room to grab some more whiskey. You heard someone open the door and lock it behind them. You turned around to find Liam standing inches away from you.

"Oh hello Liam" You said sweetly, smiling at him. He smiled at you but didn't utter a word. Instead he closed the gap between you two and pressed his lips onto yours. You immediately fluttered your eyes closed, moving your mouth in sync with his. His hand travelled downwards on your back while his other hand tried to unbutton your dress. Ew what the fuck? You broke away from the kiss and moved back from him, anxious and annoyance bubbling together.

"What the hell are you doing?" You barely managed out, as you stared at him wide eyed. He simply scoffed and smirked at you. He slowly made his way to you, every step of his making you take a step backwards - until your back hit the wall.

"Who the hell's gonna save you now? Your pathetic little friends are out there, pissed drunk and there's only you and me" He whispered in a husky way, pinning your wrists to the wall. You tried to hit where the sun don't shine, but his legs had trapped your thighs together. Oh shit. This can't be real. You whimpered slightly when he kissed your neck in the most grotesque manner, moving downwards. Please. Anyone save me. Please just save-

You were knocked out by your mental pleas when the door slammed opened. There stood the guy who you thought was the least person to come and save you. There stood Michael who had his necktie undone completely, his fists balled and a wild look on his face.

"Let her go right now" He said in an raucous voice, his voice livid. You watched Liam roll his eyes and he let go. But instead, he grabbed you harshly by the arm, making you moan quietly in pain, as he made you stand next to him in front of Michael.

"Or what?" Enquired Liam in an amused voice.

The next few moments took a bit of time for your brain to process. One minute you were staring at Michael's raging face and the next moment he tackled Liam to the floor, punching his face. You watched as Michael continuously punched Liam, a pool of blood starting to stain the floor. You stood there, your mouth agape to what the hell was happening. Get him off of him. Before he kills him.

"Michael stop it now!" You shouted at him as you tried to pull him off by grabbing his arms. Michael obliged to your touch, surprisingly, and got off from the man. You gasped at the bloodied face of Liam, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Michael...we can't just leave him like that we have to-" You were cut off by him grabbing your wrist and dragging out of the back room. He carried on dragging you out of the Garrison and pulled you into his car. None of yous spoke a word as he sped down the road, reaching his house. The uncomfortable silence was something that made you want the earth to swallow you up. He got out first, slamming the door with force and opened your one. He grabbed you again and dragged you into his house. Well I'm dead. When he shut the door of the house, Michael's inner temper was released. He took a sharp inhale of breath as he turned around and looked at you. You didn't dare look at him, as you felt the anxiety rushing towards your stomach.

"What the fuck did I tell you (Y/N)" He whisper shouted angrily, his hot breath fanning your face once again. You didn't look up and neither did you respond. You heard him exhale a long sigh. When can I go home man? You flinched when he lightly but firmly grabbed your chin to meet his eyes. You were surprised to see Michael have a gentle look on his face and a softness in his eyes.

"He didn't hurt you did he?" He spoke softly, as he examined your face. You shook your head slightly and then dropped your eyes back down to the floor. He let go of your chin and did another unexpected thing. He gently wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You felt your heart skip a beat, a bit of blood rushing to your cheeks. You slowly wrapped your arms around his body as well, leaning into his touch.

"Are you okay (Y/N)" He mumbled into your hair, his velvety tone melting your heart. But then it did hit you. He was right. Everything he told me today was true. You felt tears start to form at your eyes, which then left you to have soft sobs escape your mouth. Michael broke off the hug and cupped your cheeks.

"It's okay now (Y/N). You’re safe with me.” He said while wiping away the tears running down your cheek with his thumb. You inhaled a sharp breath and looked at him with blood shot eyes. 

“You were right Michael” You said in a raspy, broken voice. You saw the confusion in his eyes and then you watched his face drop, registering what you meant. He opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“You were fucking right and everything you said in my office today was a fucking foreshadow. And it’s all my fault” You chocked out, trying hold back another sob. You opened your mouth to say something else but this time Michael beat you to it. He crashed his lips onto yours, a small moan escaping from your lips. You flutter your eyes closed, as your wrapped your arms around his neck. I can't believe I'm kissing Michael fucking Gray. He slowly broke away from the kiss, his tongue trying to savour the taste of your lips. He leaned his forehead against yours, your heart beating wildly and your cheeks feeling as if they were on fire.

"What I said today was bullshit okay? I didn't mean anything I said. I just have a very hard time expressing how I actually feel...my damn past has created me a cold, foolish idiot. I hate that. And I also hate how all these bastards crave any bit of your love because they don't fucking deserve it. I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I've loved you ever since the day I saw you walk in with Thomas, wearing that light blue dress and your loose curls making you look like a fucking angel."

You looked at him with slightly wide eyes, never ever expecting those words to escape from his mouth. You tried to process what he just said to you, not giving him a reply.

"(Y/N)? Please give me a reply. I know I'm a fuck up but-" You cut off his rambling with pressing your lips onto his softly, Michael immediately responding. When you broke away from the kiss and opened your eyes, you looked into his. His eyes glistened with happiness and a sort of vulnerability. You smiled at him and bit your lip, taking in his features. But the minute you bit your lip, you saw his eyes have a sort of glint. A glint of lust and greed.

"Don't bite that fucking lip, (Y/N)" He said in a flirtatious way, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Or what Michael?" You questioned seductively, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"God you make me go crazy" He whispered as he hungrily kissed your lips. You responded with much passion, as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Well. I guess it was a good thing...

[basicshadowhuntersstuff]

This roundup covers February 13 - 23. Shadowhunters news, updates, sneak peeks, and behind the scenes. All the stuff you need to stay up to date.

Official Promotion

Official 3x11 Episode Photos [1]

3x11 Sneak Peeks: Magnus & Alec Babysit;  Jace Lashes Out. 

Season 3A Bloopers: Part 2

Season 3A Bloopers: Part 3

The Cast Plays Who Said It

Freeform’s On The Fly (video): What was your first non-acting job?

Uh oh ... Behind the scenes of #Shadowhunters Season 3B. 

All smiles on set #Shadowhunters

Freeform releases its new lineup offerings for March 2019

Why so serious? Behind the scenes of #Shadowhunters season 3B

Lightwood lookout. Behind the scenes of #Shadowhunters season 3B

Jace will go to the ends of the earth. Behind the scenes of #Shadowhunters season 3B

Can you guess what #Malec said? Behind the scenes of #Shadowhunters season 3B.

.@EmeraudeToubia’s got the scoop. Behind the scenes of #Shadowhunters Season 3B. 

We visited @YoungHollywood today.  #ShadowhuntersLegacy 

Matt (Alec) will be doing a Tumblr Answer Time on February 28th at 3 PM EST / 12 PM PST, and fans can ask questions here.

Shadowhunters Official Press Day

Members of the cast did press today at various media outlets. Here are some highlights:

Entertainment Tonight (video interview): ‘Shadowhunters’ star Harry Shum Jr on Final Season

Entertainment Tonight (video interview): The men of Shadowhunters spill final season secrets - plus Matthew Daddario surprises the cast!

TV Insider (video): Kat McNamara gushes about the ‘acceptance and love’ of ‘Shadowhunters’ fans (video)

Entertainment Tonight (video interview): ‘Shadowhunters’: Katherine McNamara says ‘bittersweet’ finale is ‘open for interpretation’ (Exclusive)

Leanne Aguilera shared photos of Dom (Jace), Harry (Magnus), Isaiah, (Luke), and Alberto (Simon) from their Entertainment Tonight interview on Instagram.

TV Insider Podcast shared a photo of Alisha (Maia), Emeraude (Izzy), and Kat (Clary) on Instagram.

Young Hollywood tweeted teasers of their cast interview and a group photo.

Harry (Magnus) shared a photo with Alisha (Maia) and Isaiah (Luke) on Instagram:  Down (the with) worlders for pressday for @shadowhunterstv @alishawainwright​ @isaiahmustafa​ 

Alisha (Maia) and Emeraude (Izzy) shared their press day outfits.

Kat (Clary) tweeted: Smirks for Team Evil... @ShadowhuntersTV press day here we go! #SHADOWHUNTERSLEGACY @matthewstylist @madeupbym @AlexSchack

Kat (Clary) tweeted a group photo with: Just waiting for @MatthewDaddario to join us so we can get this party started! @ShadowhuntersTV #ShadowhuntersLegacy

Shadowhunters in the News

3x11 Previews: TVFanatic, Screen Spy, Spoiler TV

3x11 Reviews: Hidden Remote

3x11 Promotional Stills: Hidden Remote, KSiteTV, Screen Spy [4]

3x11 Sneak Peek: TV Insider, Screen Spy

KSite TV (article): Shadowhunters season 3B March spoiler descriptions are here!

Entertainment Weekly (First look photos): Shadowhunters first look: Jace and Clary travel to Paris

The Series Regulars (interview): ‘Shadowhunters’ Exclusive Interview: Jonathan Ho Talks Season 3B And More!

Cosmopolitan (article):  Everything to Know About 'Shadowhunters' Season 3B and Finale Event

Hypable (article): ‘Shadowhunters’ interview: Luke Baines on resurrecting Jonathan, drawing inspiration from the fans

Pure Fandom (interview): EXCLUSIVE ‘Shadowhunters’ EP’s Todd Slavkin & Darren Swimmer talk 3B

Backstage (interview):  Anddd we’re now live with Dominic Sherwood of Freeform’s “Shadowhunters.” Stay tuned for a fun time and drop those questions! 🎬

Basic Stuff Magazine (article):  Shadowhunters: Exploring the Shapes of Love

Cheddar (video): Freeform’s ‘Shadowhunters’ prepares to go out with a bang

TV Guide (article): We made fake dating profiles for Malec and Olicity because we ship harder than you

Film Daily (article): Check out these crazy fan theories in time for ‘Shadowhunters’ season 3B

Hidden Remote (article): Will Sizzy be too rushed in 3B?

TV Guide (article): Clary will be ‘Forever changed’ when Shadowhunters returns

Pure Fandom (article): #ShadowhuntersPosterChallenge Part 9: Jace and Alec-centric

Pure Fandom (Interview): EXCLUSIVE: Katherine McNamara talks ‘Shadowhunters’ and ‘Arrow’

Meaww Entertainment (article): ‘Shadowhunters’ season 3B: A very scary Clary and what her return means for the rest of the team

TV Guide (article): The 25 best ships ever on Freeform

TV Fanatic (article): Shadowhunters: 17 Favorite Hugs for Newcomers

TV Guide (article): Shadowhunters’ Matthew Daddario says Malec is heading for rough waters 

Entertainment Tonight (video interview): Katherine McNamara on how Arrow fans have embraced her after character reveal

Backstage (article): Why you shouldn’t rehearse too much before filming

Meaww Entertainment (article): ‘Shadowhunters’ Season 3B: Maia Roberts is all set to rise and shine in the final installment of the fantasy show

Pure Fandom (interview): ‘Shadowhunters’ Steve Byers talks Underhill, 3B, and sandwiches

Digital Spy (interview): Luke Baines says #SaveShadowhunters campaign is “inspiring” and they’d be ‘on board’ for a revival

Hidden Remote (interview): EPs Todd Slavkin and Darren Swimmer tease Shadowhunters season 3B

FanCity Central shared a video of Jonathan Ho (Brother Zachariah) reading fan tweets.

BriefTake (interview): Interview: Shadowhunters’ Luke Baines

New York Post (article): ‘Shadowhunters’ fans really want to save the show

The Series Regulars (interview): Exclusive ‘Shadowhunters’ Interview: Jack Yang Talks Prince Of Hell, Typecasting, And More!

TV Guide (article):  Sizzy Will Heat Up in Shadowhunters' Final Season

Digital Spy (interview): Harry Shum Jr. teases Magnus Bane's storyline in the series' final episodes.

#SaveShadowhunters

Hidden Remote (article): Save Shadowhunters campaign returns to Hollywood with two billboards 

The Series Regulars (article): ‘Shadowhunters’: Fans Launch Los Angeles Billboards To Promote 3B

Taylor Mallory (writer) visited the large #SaveShadowhunters billboard in Los Angeles. 

Kat (Clary) visited the large #SaveShadowhunters billboard in Los Angeles.  [2]

Digital Spy (article): Shadowhunters fans step up campaign to save show as season 3B premiere approaches

Pure Fandom (article): ‘Shadowhunters’ news: fans fighting harder than ever to save the show

Matt Carter (article): Shadowhunters season 3: check out a fan-made billboard in Los Angeles

Social Media/Twitter

ShumDario News released the eleventh #SHTVFlockToUnlock polariod with Jack Yang (Asmodeus): Love. Deceit. Despair.

ShumDario News released the twelfth #SHTVFlockToUnlock polariod with Nicola Correia-Damude (Marsye): Past, Present, Future.

Bane & Lewis released the thirteenth #SHTVFlockToUnlock polariod with Emeraude (Izzy): Sizzy.

Bane & Lewis released the fourteenth #SHTVFlockToUnlock polariod with Kimberly-Sue Murray (Seelie Queen): Karma.

Bane & Lewis released the fifteenth #SHTVFlockToUnlock polariod with David Castro (Raphael Santiago).

Todd Slavkin (showrunner) tweeted about the bond between Magnus and Catarina; and responded to a fan question regarding Helen in 3B

FanCity Central announced that Brian Hui (makeup artist) will be a guest at their Toronto 3B premiere party.

Brian Hui (makeup artist) tweeted: Psst! Wonder how we got Clary’s runes on in the same spot everyday? Here’s a page from our sacred Rune Bible! Shh! ⁦@Kat_McNamara⁩ #Shadowhunters

Nicola Correia-Damude (Maryse Lightwood) shared a BTS photo of the cast from season 1x12

Brian Hui (Makeup artist) shared a photo of Kat McNamara (Clary) and Luke Baines (Jonathan Morganstern) on location in Paris for 3B; and a photo of himself in a Team Evil Sandwich 

Sydney Meyer (Helen Blackthorn) shared her fan mail address.

Matt Hastings (showrunner) shared several photos from shooting in Paris: Just another day a Paris with @Kat_McNamara & @LukeBaines. #Shadowhunters #dreamcometrue #Paris #3B, Rolling camera behind Notre Dame.#Shadowhunters #Paris #3B, Because you asked so nicely. Here’s the talented @DomSherwood1 between takes #Paris #Shadowhunters #3B, 

Kat (Clary) shared BTS photos and videos from 3B counting down to the premiere: 7 days, 6 days, 5 days, 4 days, 3 days [3]

Sydney Meyer (Helen Blackthorn) shared a BTS photo of her character from 3B to celebrate one week till 3B

Harry (Magnus) shared a BTS photo on Instagram in celebration of 6 days till 3B

Luke Baines (Jonathan Morgenstern) tweeted in response to the EW photos in Paris

Amanda O’Leary (makeup artist): shared a picture on Instagram of Harry (Magnus) and Matt (Alec) goofing around behind the scenes

Nicola Correia-Damude (Maryse Lightwood) shared a BTS photo from episode 3x06 on her Instagram

Aisha Porter-Christie (writer) asked what 3A moments stuck with people, and Todd Slavkin (showrunner) and Taylor Mallory (writer) shared theirs.

Taylor Mallory (writer) responded to a fan request for teasers about episode 3x18

Ariana Williams (Madzie) shared a bts photo from 3B of herself, Harry (Magnus) and Sophia Walker (Catarina).

Taylor Mallory (writer) tweeted a photo with Luke Baines (Jonathan Morgenstern) and Aisha Porter-Christie (writer).

Brian Hui (makeup artist) shared a video of Dom (Jace) behind the scenes while filming in Paris.

Nicola Correia-Damude shared a behind-the-scenes photo with Emeraude (Izzy) on Instagram.

Anna Hopkins tweeted:  Found an old video of Lilith getting stir crazy in Edom!! Speaking of, she's super excited for the premiere in a few days, she'll finally have something to watch up (down?) there.  #workit #Shadowhunters #teamedom #ShadowFam

Other News

Logo New Now Next (article): Why LGBTQ Fandoms Fight So Hard to Save Their Favorite Canceled Shows 

Just Jared Jr (article): Katherine McNamara & Luke Baines bring ‘Shadowhunters’ to Teen Vogue’s Young Hollywood party

The Actors Audience (Interview): Jade Hassoune talks Shadowhunters, his music, being an advocate for the LGBTQ community and more

Emeraude Toubia (Izzy) is featured in Grumpy Magazine’s March issue

The Hollywood Reporter (article): ‘It: Chapter Two’ star Isaiah Mustafa signs with Paradigm (Exclusive)

Fan City Central Shared another fun video of Jonathan Ho (Brother Zachariah) 

Dom Sherwood (Jace) was announced as a guest at Oz Comic Con

[lets-talk-appella]

The Underwear Incident

Bechloe Week Day Two - Jealousy

Summay:  Beca Mitchell is one of the most famous music artists in America. She gets a lot of attention from her fans, which occasionally makes Chloe a little jealous... established Bechloe. For Bechloe Week Day 2 - Jealousy.

Word Count: 3.9k

AO3 and FFN

Chloe isn’t quite sure how her life got to this point. If someone had told her seven years ago that Beca “I don’t even sing” Mitchell would one day sign with DJ Khaled to headline a national tour, she would have laughed in their face.

Moreover, if that same someone had told her that one day, she’d be dating that grumpy little alt girl, she’d never have believed it.

But now, as she watches from backstage as Beca commands the entirety of the St. Paul Target Center arena, her lips still tingling from the kiss they’d shared before Beca started her show, she wouldn’t change a thing.

It was the eleventh performance of her nineteen-date national tour and Beca seemed to be savoring every minute of it. Chloe smiled to herself at the roar of the audience, warmed up by opener Hayley Kiyoko. They loved Beca. Why wouldn’t they? Beca is so loveable, her beautiful features and breathtaking vocals only accentuated by the theatrical stage lights and the slight echo of the sold-out stadium.

Beca’s eyes flash, as they often do, to her at the side of the stage. Like always, Chloe sees the dumbfounded ecstasy Beca feels at having actual fans showing up at her concerts. And, like always, Chloe grins back her endless support, having chosen to accompany Beca on her tour before beginning her semester at vet school. She knows Beca appreciates having her there to ground her.

As Beca’s fourth song of the night ends, a group of fans in the front row tosses a bouquet of roses on stage. Chloe sees Beca’s smile widen even further as she stoops to sweep the flowers into her hands. She leans in to smell their perfume, grinning, and says into the mic, “For me? Thanks, they smell amazing! I’ll just set them here for now.”

She turns to place the bouquet delicately near the back of the stage where they will be safe from her movements and dancing. As she does, Chloe spots another fan, a teenage boy, leaning forward, holding out what looks like a piece of paper.

Beca reaches over the heads of her security team to grab it. Chloe smirks; Beca had always wondered at the necessity of having security and often did things like this just to annoy them.

“Holy shit, this is beautiful,” Beca says for the arena to hear as she examines the paper. She holds it up to cover her face so the screens can see it and broadcast the image. The boy had drawn Beca’s likeness extremely well, somehow capturing the light shining from her dark eyes.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Beca compliments again, and Chloe can see from the smile that overtakes the boy’s face that she’s just made his day. Beca turns again to take the art to safety, catching Chloe’s eye and dropping her mouth open in a look of utter awe. Chloe merely smiles back and shrugs. She loves how kind Beca is to her fans, as if she still can’t believe they’re all there for her.

“Thank you guys so much!” Beca calls once the art is safely stored with the flowers. The crowd roars, her fans screaming in support.

“I think, as some extra thanks, I’ll sing a new song I only just finished writing.” Even louder screaming follows her announcement, and Chloe laughs as Beca has to wait for the tsunami of noise to die down before she can speak again.

“It’s called ‘Your Body,’ and I’ve never performed it live like this before, so bear with me.”

She glances to the side at Chloe to ask permission and Chloe nods her assent. Beca had written the song for her during the first leg of her tour.

“It’s for someone pretty important to me,” Beca continues over the sound of even more screaming. “You know who you are.” She grabs the mic stand and uses it so that her hands are free.

Chloe smiles at the sentiment. Their relationship is, at this point, a secret. It had been Beca’s idea to hide her identity, not wanting the media or intense fans to pursue Chloe or interrupt their privacy. Of course, there were countless rumors online and in the tabloids about who Beca might be involved with; anyone from Tom Hiddleston to Hayley Kiyoko herself were considered possibilities, much to both her and Beca’s amusement.

As the opening slow notes of the song play, a hush falls over the arena. Beca begins what is probably the sexiest song ever, at least in Chloe’s opinion. Beca’s lyrics ring out, full of the love and lust that describe their relationship perfectly.

Chloe shivers, awed by how different the song sounds belted out on stage as opposed to sung softly in her ear while in bed. Her eyes rake up Beca’s body, lingering on the slow, sensual twist of her hips and the flexing of the lithe muscles that stand out under her skinny jeans. The back of Chloe’s neck warms when her gaze rests on Beca’s hands, twisting and moving in the air without hindrance of the microphone, as she recalls vividly what those hands are capable of. Beca’s eyes are closed, the look on her face one of complete concentration, her perfect lips forming every word of the song so tenderly it makes Chloe’s heart ache.

Beca looks both absolutely beautiful and incredibly sexy at the same time and Chloe finds herself staring, admiring her girlfriend’s entire being.

However, it seems she’s not the only one admiring Beca in that moment.

A sudden movement catches Chloe’s eye, shattering her concentration on Beca. Her attention shifts instead to the front few rows of the audience, specifically to an arm raised back and poised to throw something small on stage. The arm shoots forward, the hand releasing the object, and Chloe watches the gift to Beca fly through the air, twisting over other fans and over Beca’s security to land on the stage near her feet. Chloe cranes her neck to see what it is. When she finally does figure it out, her stomach twists painfully.

It’s a lacy black thong, clearly a piece of lingerie. Someone had thrown their panties on stage at Beca. While Beca was singing an incredibly sexy song. Written for Chloe.

Um. No.

Chloe searches the audience for the culprit, finally spotting her. There’s no mistaking her; the girl is grinning proudly, unembarrassed even as others in attendance turn to stare at her. Her eyes are focused on Beca, clearly waiting for some sort of response. Chloe’s jaw clenches in anger. The girl is gorgeous. And she’s a redhead.

Chloe tries to shove down her immediate jealousy, knowing instantly that she’s overreacting. It’s just another intense fan, no big deal. Besides, Beca’s probably really weirded out by it. She’s not usually the type to enjoy something so forward.

She looks back to Beca, expecting her to ignore the panties entirely. However, Beca, finally catching sight of the garment, raises her eyebrows in surprise and smiles awkwardly at the girl who threw them. Then, without pausing her singing, Beca bends down to snatch up the thong, twirling it around her finger a few times before tucking it into a front pocket so that it hangs out for the whole arena to see. Then, she winks directly at the girl.

The air rushes out of Chloe’s lungs. Her first reaction is one of mild disgust. Who knows where those panties have been? Well, actually, she has a pretty good idea, and ew. Beca needs to wash her hands, like, now.

However, her disgust is almost instantly shoved aside by furious disbelief. Her Beca just put some other girl’s underwear in her pocket. No. Unacceptable. Now that girl is probably getting all sorts of mixed messages, especially because Beca’s relationship status isn’t officially known. How dare Beca do that? No. Just no. Did Beca forget who she was dating? Is that all it takes? Some lacy panties tossed up on stage during a sexy song? During her sexy song?

Chloe sees red. She’s so angry that all she can do is glare at Beca, who finishes the song only to sing three of her other chart-topping hits immediately after. Chloe barely hears them, blood still pounding in her ears. She knows Beca keeps glancing at her, confused by the death glare she’s transmitting, but she can’t bring herself to stop. Beca should know by now how jealous she gets.

“Okay, I’m going to turn it over to an instrumental piece I composed and produced a while ago, so hang tight and I’ll be back soon!” Beca’s voice, resonating over the arena, crashes into Chloe. Beca’s taking her usual intermission about three songs earlier than she normally does.

Chloe looks up to see Beca jogging off stage and directly toward her, concern written over her flushed and slightly sweaty face. Chloe raises an eyebrow, waiting. Beca has some explaining to do.

“Chlo, you okay?” Beca asks when she arrives next to Chloe. “You’re looking a little off.”

“Oh, am I?” Chloe fires back, taking satisfaction in the way Beca hesitates before responding.

“Yeah, um, you look kind of pissed.”

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Chloe spits, feeling her temper rise again. No way can Beca be that clueless.

Except – “Um,” Beca says quietly, looking lost. “I wonder why, too.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows imperiously and gestures sharply down at Beca’s pocket, from which the offensive black thong still dangles. Beca’s gaze follows her point, and Chloe can tell from her puff of breath that she’d forgotten the panties were still there.

Beca looks up at her sheepishly, but Chloe doesn’t give her time to defend herself.

“Beca Mitchell, you put some – some floozy’s panties in your pocket right in front of me!” she yells, knowing that the sound of Beca’s instrumental break and the screaming of Beca’s fans will prevent her voice from traveling far.

“That?” Beca asks incredulously. “Ah, come on, don’t call her that. It was just so the girl wouldn’t feel bad. You know I like to make them happy!”

That was the wrong thing to say. “Now she thinks you’ll be making her very happy!” Chloe argues back, leaning forward to get into Beca’s face.

Beca rolls her eyes at the implication, making Chloe’s hands clench into fists. “Chlo, you know it isn’t like that. It’s just something fun, a joke. It went with the song.”

Chloe opened her mouth to tear into Beca again when Beca interrupts, looking at her seriously. “Besides, babe, how many pairs of underwear have you thrown at random singers?”

Chloe blinks, sidetracked. Damn. Beca knows her too well. She can remember at least three separate incidences where she’d thrown either panties or a bra up on stage. And those were just when she was sober.

Forcing herself to rally, but already feeling her anger abate, Chloe replies, “That’s… that’s beside the point! You shouldn’t have done it! She’s basically asking you to cheat on me!”

Beca smiles at her slightly, as if sensing that their fight is already on its way to being over. “Dude, calm down, it doesn’t mean anything! And, remember, they all think I’m single, so….”

Chloe crosses her arms with a huff, glaring away from Beca off to the side.

The concluding measures of Beca’s instrumental break permeate the air and Beca raises a hand to reach out to Chloe. Chloe only turns away further, still annoyed. Beca sighs and says, “Look, I gotta go. I’m sorry, I swear it’s nothing. Here –”

Chloe glances at her to see that Beca has taken the panties out of her pocket and is trying to hand the garment to Chloe. Chloe wrinkles her nose and says sharply, “No, thanks.”

Beca takes her hand back and sighs again. “Can we talk about this after?”

Chloe doesn’t respond.

She feels Beca’s eyes on her, full of worry, and has a flash of guilt for making such a big deal out of it. Before she can say anything to amend it, though, Beca turns away to jog back on stage to her yelling fans. She moves to where she’d already placed the flowers and the beautiful drawing and drops the thong with her other souvenirs.

As Beca greets the crowd without glancing at her, Chloe lets her stance and posture relax, dropping her crossed arms to let her hands play with her jeans. She knows she overreacted. Beca’s right; she’s thrown enough undergarments on people’s stages to know that it really doesn’t mean anything. It’s a fun joke meant to flatter the artist, not meant to lead anywhere. And even if that girl did have hopes for a good time in return, Chloe knows in her soul that Beca would never do that to her. To them.

What they have is too important.

Chloe sighs, already regretting how she’d handled that. She glances up at Beca, who has still not looked her way. Chloe bites her lip; she hopes that Beca’s not distracted now, worrying about the status of their relationship instead of focusing on her music and her fans.

Releasing her lip to quirk her mouth thoughtfully, Chloe knows she needs to think of some way to make it up to Beca. She wants to capture her attention and make the biggest apology possible. She thinks for a moment until her eyes fall on the pile of souvenirs. She smiles slightly, a plan forming.

With one last look to Beca on stage, her eyes closed and singing her heart out, Chloe turns and rushes away, down the backstage steps until she finds an exit sign. She follows that to end up near the side of the fan section. Ducking and weaving around the hordes of hysterical concert-goers, Chloe makes her way to a stadium exit. She flashes her security pass at a guard, who lets her leave the arena and move into the main part of the building where Beca’s voice is much more muted. Her eyes land on the main front doors, and she dashes out and onto the street.

Her head swivels as she tries to spot any kind of convenience store or retail outlet, anything that might have what she’s looking for. Not seeing anything, she jogs around the Target Center, eyes scanning desperately. She knows Beca’s going to notice her absence before long, and, while a small part of her takes petty satisfaction in knowing it will teach Beca a lesson, her rational side knows that she needs to minimize Beca’s anxiety over their argument. She pulls out her phone and types frantically into Google Maps, knowing she won’t get anywhere by running around.

The first result to pop up is just over two blocks away. Perfect. Glancing at her phone to confirm the street name, Chloe starts jogging again, moving quickly to get where she wants to go. She can see people stopping to stare at her, and she doesn’t blame them. She knows she must look insane, now running at full speed to get to her destination.

She’s there in minutes, breathing hard, thankful for her gym routine. She dashes inside the store, moving immediately to the section she needs. She grabs the first item she sees and flies toward the register, not looking at the size or price, only wanting to check out and get back to Beca as soon as she can.

The saleswoman stares at her when she practically tosses the item onto the counter and bends to dig in her purse for her wallet. Chloe sends her a bright smile, trying to hide her heavy breathing. The woman doesn’t comment, only smiling tightly back before scanning the purchase and taking Chloe’s offered debit card wordlessly.

“Can you cut the tags off, please? I don’t have scissors on me,” Chloe remembers to ask at the last second. The woman – her name tag says Karen – only nods and grabs scissors on her desk, removing the tags with a quick snip.

Item paid for, Chloe shoves it and her card back into her purse, denying the offered bag. With a rushed “Thank you!” she sprints back out of the store and all the way back to the Target Center, nearly plowing down an elderly man on the way.

Legs burning, she launches herself into the building, holding up her security pass in a sweating palm like a shield. She’s granted access into the arena and backstage area again to resume her previous position just off stage and in view of Beca. The whole thing had taken less than fifteen minutes.

Chloe doubles over, her hands on her knees as she catches her breath, a stitch in her side. She dimly wonders if she should focus more on cardio and less on her arms at the gym, but she really likes how her shoulders look. Finally drawing in one last huge gulp of air, she stands upright to see Beca still singing powerfully on stage. She’s got Beca’s set list memorized and is relieved to have only missed about four songs.

As Beca’s current song draws to a close, her eyes flick to where Chloe stands. Even from off stage, Chloe can see the relief in Beca’s eyes as she sends her a small smile. Chloe’s heart pangs; Beca had definitely noticed she’d left. Guilt claws at her, but she knows exactly what to do to make it up to her girlfriend. She digs in her purse, pulling out the gift and holding it at the ready, hidden behind her back.

Chloe waits patiently as Beca’s show winds down, reaching the finale before too long. Beca had chosen to end every show with a mashup of the two songs she always says started it all. Chloe approves of her decision wholeheartedly. As the opening chord of the mix of ‘Titanium’ and ‘Cups’ permeates the arena, goosebumps rise on her arms and a chill runs down her spine.

Chloe waits until Beca reaches the chorus of the song, the part of ‘Titanium’ when Beca’s eyes will lock, as they always do, onto hers as they are both sent back in time to Barden’s showers. Her heart thuds in time with Beca’s voice, waiting, straining her patience until –

Beca’s gaze meets hers, open and loving as always. Chloe pulls her arm out from behind herself to reveal the panties she’d just purchased. Beca’s eyes widen in surprise, and Chloe laughs as she lifts her arm to throw the panties, tumbling through the air only for Beca to catch them deftly in her left hand.

Miraculously, Beca’s singing continues uninterrupted by the flying lingerie. She winks at Chloe, then lowers her hand to half slide the panties under the waistband of her jeans, letting them flop out at the top. The audience goes absolutely wild, as does Chloe’s pulse. She glances into the crowd, already knowing what she’ll see. Sure enough, several members of the front rows, including the girl who first threw the underwear, are looking in her direction, clearly wondering who had tossed the garment from backstage.

Chloe looks back to Beca, who’s still staring at her. Chloe takes a deep breath, tilting her head to the side in a question. Beca nods once, heading into the final bars of her song. Chloe steels herself with a roll of her shoulders, ready for what this decision will mean for her. For them. She had guessed this would happen when she first ran out of the arena. It’s time, and it’s a good way to ensure that everyone knows Beca is hers and hers alone.

Beca concludes the show on a high note (literally) and the arena erupts with sound. Beca bows once, an awkward smile on her face that makes Chloe laugh; Beca always has been bad with compliments. She turns to Chloe, eyebrows raised in one final question, giving her the chance to change her mind. Chloe falls even more in love with her at the gesture, but she’s sure about what she wants to do.

With a final deep breath, Chloe steps out onto the stage, dazzled by the lights and the noise and the people, but keeps her eyes on Beca. Beca will hold her steady. She reaches Beca’s side in almost no time at all and automatically winds an arm around her waist. Beca throws an arm over her shoulder, drawing her even closer until Chloe can feel Beca’s heart pounding, strong and steady.

Beca raises her free hand, gesturing for some quiet. The noise level drops instantly, making Chloe revel at the power Beca has.

“So, I know there have been some rumors going around about me lately,” Beca says into the mic, still slightly breathless from her finale. “And while Tom and Hayley are both good friends of mine, I just have to say – the only person I want in the entire world is this girl next to me. Everyone, meet Chloe.”

Chloe gives an awkward sort of half wave as she senses the eyes of almost 17,000 people landing on her. Not sure what else to do, she does what comes naturally. She turns to Beca, reaches out to touch her face, and leans in to kiss her fully.

A wave of sound washes over her. Anyone in the main area of the building might well think an explosion had occurred; Chloe knows her ears will be ringing for days, but she doesn’t mind. When the kiss breaks, Chloe looks at the crowd, squinting against the bright lights to see that everyone in residence is standing, clapping, screaming, giving her and Beca a standing ovation. It’s overwhelming. It’s excessive.

It’s beautiful.

They stand there for what feels like an hour but is surely only a few minutes before the stage lights are turned off and Beca’s leading her backstage again, scooping up the gifts her fans had given her.

“So, that was okay?” Chloe asks quickly as they walk, wanting to make sure Beca is fine with going public with their relationship.

“That was more than okay,” Beca replies, her voice hoarse from the performance. “It’ll be different now, but also easier in some ways.”

Chloe smiles slightly. “No more excited fangirls,” she teases gently, gesturing to the thong Beca had picked up.

“Nah, I just need you to keep tossing panties at me and I’ll be good,” Beca responds, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Mmm. Did you like that?”

“I did,” Beca nods. “I’m assuming that’s where you disappeared to? Because I know they aren’t yours. Unless you wrestled them off some poor girl?”

Chloe wrinkles her nose at the thought. “Nope, bought them. Look, I’m sorry I went off earlier,” she adds, glancing at Beca.

Beca smiles and stops walking. Chloe looks around to see they’d somehow arrived at her dressing room already.

“It’s okay,” assures Beca quietly. “I’d probably be a little jealous if someone was throwing their underwear at you, too.”

“Well…” draws out Chloe, thinking. “I bet I can make it up to you?” She draws her lower lip into her mouth, moving close to Beca and trailing her fingers over Beca’s stomach.

Beca’s eyes darken and she moves closer as well, her breath ghosting over Chloe’s lips as she replies, “Gonna throw more clothing at me?”

Chloe smiles sweetly and whispers, “No. I’m going to tear clothing off of you.”

Quick as a flash, Beca opens her dressing room door to gently toss her gifts inside on the floor before turning back to Chloe. She grabs Chloe’s hand and the next thing she knows, Chloe is being ushered into the room and lifted onto the couch before Beca slams and locks the door behind them.

Oh yeah. She’s definitely buying lingerie more often.