#this is too much fun and actually does help with poor brain weather

[mappinglasirena]

"So what do you do for procrastination when you should be studying for an upcoming exam self-care?"

"Oh, I spend about a day modeling the bulkheads of my most beloved little speed freighter in painstaking detail. How about you?"

[syubub]

What makes BTS most vulnerable

Woo! A reading! I wanted to do this bc its been on my list for a little while now!

I just got off work and wanted to do this asap! Pls forgive mistakes! I'm not gonna proof read bc im lazy.

Cheeky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!!

So so so so

First off, I did each member and also one for the group! I didn't have a specific plan in mind when I started, so I just went with the flow!

Let's start with the group first

So. The 5 of pentacles is what makes them most vulnerable. This card talks about isolation, feeling lost, anxiety, not having money or influence. Most of all, a mindset of lack.

All of this to me makes me think that what makes them most vulnerable is the fear of being right back where they started. Feeling exiled from the industry, not having the funds to be sure of a stable future and also not having a strong sense of identity as a group and within the group. It's like their vulnerability comes from something almost like ptsd? Let me try to make that make more sense. I genuinely think that where they started and the uncertainty and constant ridicule really had an impact on them. The vulnerability they have as a group is essentially emotional distress? Like, I wish I had better words to explain. It's the fear that they haven't actually grown or gotten anywhere and that they are insignificant that is their vulnerability. Fear based on where they started?

I really hope that made sense. Moving on though, 7 of swords is how it manifests for them. This card is sneaky. It talks about getting away with something and betrayal but I think this meaning is the most relevant: strategic moves. So how their vulnerability manifests is that the fear that they have causes them (and the company) to make very specific moves to keep their fears from happening. It's like, they take steps to make sure their fears don't get realized. Career wise but also personally. They can sometimes force growth because they fear stagnation. Kinda like rolling something uphill? Once it loses momentum it starts rolling back down.

The other two cards, Wellness and busy times and multitasking, are what they can do to lessen that vulnerability. Keeping healthy in mind body and spirit (also keeping the group bond healthy too) as well as channeling their emotions and fears into productivity. (Think the ly:tear album)

Seokjin

This is really intresting. So, what makes him most vulnerable is repressed emotion that causes inner turmoil. The moon is all about your insides and the vastness it has. In its reverse it talks about the darker parts of your subconscious. So, him bottling shit up and repressing it becomes a monster that affects him without him even necessarily knowing.

As for how that manifest in his life, it literally affects his judgment. Like, literally. It messes with his decision making.

As a fellow human with a similar problem, I can almost bet that any issue he has with another member will be shoved away and it will fester until he's at his breaking point and he'll absolutely weaponize it but disguise it as "just poking fun" or he might also purposefully create low level chaos. It's really intresting because this could manifest in so many ways. It could be his insecurities, issues with other people, fears ect and they fester in his brain space fucking with his judgment.

What he can do to lessen this vulnerability is deep emotional healing. Istg these cards are too perfect to make up. He needs to do THE WORK and heal it. He probably recognizes this and is working on it. Its not fair to himself to put himself aside in order to put other people first. (I think this probably happened a lot in the early bts days bc he had to be an older brother and a responsible figure to 6 other kids so he prioritized group harmony over his own issues and emotions)

Yoongi

????

Um, okay. So what makes yoongi most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. That's the 10 of pentacles rev. But it gets interesting bc the 10 of swords isn't what makes him vulnerable but it also isn't how it manifests?? So here's my theory time. What makes him most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. I can only assume that it's the isolation and internal conflict of benefiting off of a system that fucked you over in the first half of your life and also feeling bad for having wealth that most people can never imagine? I really don't know? But with the 10 of swords talking about betrayal and deep wounds, it could be that he's extremely afraid of being taken advantage of? Like, that's another downside of wealth. Maybe people have tried to use him for money or influence? Especially in his personal life. Like, he probably finds it extremely hard to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal over something that is already hard for him to deal with?

Also loss. He wasn't born rich. He worked his ass off to get what he has and he's probably afraid to lose it. He might "stash" money?

Anyway, knight of swords, how it manifests. This card is about a drive to succeed. So essentially this makes him run and push himself hard and harder and harder to out run what he sees as an inevitable end? Sometimes this can blind him.

As for what he can do to lessen this vulnerability, we have, self confidence through God confidence. This card to me talks about having faith in your actions and skills and trusting in yourself even if you doubt your ability. Essentially, yoongi just needs to trust in himself to land on his feet no matter what happens. Life is always uncertain so he needs to trust that he can weather any storm he might face.

Hoseok

This was one gave me some thoughts. So, similar to jin, it's the bottling shit up and having you subconscious mind eventually figure shit out because it's been neglected but with the 2 of swords in reverse, talking about confusion and being indecisive, I think this kinda causes him to shut down? He might get apathetic. It's almost like when you work a computer so hard that it crashes.

And how this manifests for him with the 3 of pentacles in reverse is that he gets thrown out of alignment with the group. Kinda like how you shouldn't drive on a flat tire. He withdraws and becomes hard to reach and puts up a wall that causes a lot of problems for him as well as those he is around. It's a defense mechanism. It can also manifest in him preferring to work alone as well instead of group settings.

This exposes him to depression and doubt.

Also similar to jin, for how to lessen this vulnerability we have Bless your heart with talks about reaching out (breaking down that wall) and healing your heart and healing the root issue.

Namjoon

Okay. This is the one that makes so much sense but also confuses me.

So. What makes him most vulnerable is the magician rev and 10 of cups. Unrealized potential and poor planning as well as love, harmony and alignment.

So.... what? How does love and the happiest happiness make him vulnerable?

Well, I think he's suspicious of it. I think that he can't help but wonder in his big big big brain if THIS is the right happy or if its really happiness at all? Almost like commitment issues but also not? It's like, he's afraid that it won't last? He might have trouble fully allowing himself happiness. Also, what makes him the most vulnerable is love. It opens up every bit of his soul and puts it on a laundry line for everyone to see and I don't think he thinks he's worthy enough to be seen like that?

As for how it manifests in his life, 9 of cups, personal fulfillment and a strive to have everything else in hislife sorted out? Essentially wanting to have a perfect foundation so eventually he can share with all the important people in his life.

As for what he can do. Value your self worth. pretty straight up. He needs to value himself more. He deserve love and he deserves to feel seen even if it's uncomfortable at first.

Jimin

Oki. What makes jimin most vulnerable is choice. The 7 of cups talks about focusing on what's best for you and making choices based not on illusion. I think jimin is plagued by unrealistic expectations and confronting the fact that it's not possible is what makes him most vulnerable. He makes choices that are driven by illusion. Usually about self. I think specifically about how he doesn't always see how good he already is so he pushes himself to chase after something that isn't always right for him or even there in the first place. Acknowledging and facing it brings vulnerability that he doesn't always want to face. I think he might equate vulnerability to powerlessness.

How it manifests. 9 of wands rev. Paranoia and being defensive. It's his own fear and insecurities manifesting outside of himself.

As for what he can do, passion and purpose and multifaceted. Focus on what is close to his heart and don't get side tracked. Theres so much more to this situation and there isn't an easy fix. There's a lot of things that need working on in order for him to feel comfortable.

Taehyung

Oki oki oki. What makes Tae most vulnerable is strength rev. Raw emotion. He doesn't always express his emotions and when he chooses to be more open, his emotions go through a bit of a filter. Showing his unfiltered emotions makes him most vulnerable because it's him as he is. In his truest form. It's all of his wants, joys, fears. Everything.

As for how it manifests, 10 of wands and Hanged man, it becomes a burden that he carries because he feels like he can't just be honest. He pauses and allows himself time to feel on his own but that means possibly being misunderstood and a bit isolated.

Now. What can he do to lessen it? Bless your heart and healthy communication in relationships. TALKING TO PEOPLE AND ALLOWING HIMSELF THAT VULNERABILITY. It's not bad to be vulnerable. Heal that shit bb bc you are worth it.

Jungkook

So, what makes him most vulnerable? The world in rev. Not having closure and seeking it. The process of seeking closure for himself about things that could have or putting to rest something that has come full circle. It brings vulnerability because he has to face things that he could have done better. He has to face things coming to a close and be okay with is.

How it manifests, the tower, ace of cups, 5 of cups reversed.

The tower is essentially everything crumbling down. I think jk thinks too much? If you follow a ball of yarn all the way to the end then you just unraveled a whole ass ball of yarn.

Him going to close those things cause him to unravel his foundation.

With the ace of cups, creativity and love/ new emotions, I think him taking the time to pursue personal closure helps him to be more open to love as well as giving him creative fuel.

The 5 of cups rev. Means that him doing this closure thing helps him to forgive himself bc he's taking time to move on and tie up loose ends?

For jk this closure thing manifests in every aspect of his like and I almost see it as him shedding? Sounds weird but he's consciously moving on and paying attention to what he needs?

As for what he can do? Deep emotional healing! He runs the risk of feeling more of the tower manifestation so he needs to keep himself emotionally healthy in order for this to be productive instead of destructive!

~~~~~~~

I hope y'all like this! I feel like the cards didn't always follow what I was kinda going for with my questions but it all works out in the end I guess?

My next reading will be up later this week (I've already done it and taken all of my notes. I just have to type it all out) so look foward to that as well!

[alirhi]

10 Sebastian roles as boyfriends

Because... I'm bored and I feel like it. 😂 Probably some spoilers for, like... everything? So yeah... That.

Putting it under here for easy scrolling:

10: Chase Collins

Who doesn't love a goofball? In the first half of the movie, Chase is basically perfect. He's sweet, funny, not all caught up in his ego, and actually pays attention to what the girls around him are saying, not just to what he wants to hear. If not for the whole... it was all an act to get close to Caleb and try to steal his magic thing, Chase would actually be a damn good high school boyfriend. He's adorable and would be a fun date, but he's also only 18 so best not to start making long-term plans lol. Also, y'know... the whole psycho revenge/power grab thing.

9 Jack Benjamin

Y'all. Y'all. Words cannot describe how much I love Jack. Pretty sure I've made this clear. As a person/character in general, he's absolutely in my Top 3 - not just of Sebastian's characters, but any character ever. ❤ But as a boyfriend? Boy's got baggage. It's what makes me so protective of him, but seeing as how he's trapped in the closet thanks to his overbearing homophobic family and the insane expectations heaped on him, as the show left him, he can't handle an honest relationship. He's too easily influenced by all the wrong people, poor babe.

8 Chris (Destroyer)

On paper, undercover cop sounds cool and exciting, but even if you ignore the fact that he, y'know, dies... Chris got in too deep and kinda lost the mission, so to speak. Best case scenario, you're his sexy partner and in on it all with him and end up on the lam for the rest of your lives. Worst case, this man lies for a living, so can you even trust him? And... yeah. The whole dead thing. Chris is hot af but getting involved with him is a recipe for disaster.

7 Ben

Min and Hathor have mercy, I love Ben! He's smart, he's snarky, he's caring and loyal... he's an absolute disaster. He's another one who seems allergic to honesty, until his lying and avoiding nearly kill his girlfriend. Not exactly relationship goals lol. Everything before totally was, though! Ben's adorable, and I love how he stayed up all night to protect his girlfriend (from a ghost/demon thing... with a baseball bat. I said he was smart, not perfect, okay? XD points for effort lol)

6 Mickey Henry

I. LOVE. MICKEY. Oml I love Mickey. He's a spazz and - even more so than Ben - an absolute disaster of a human being, but I love him. Pros for dating Mickey Henry: he's fun, he's carefree, he'll cook for you even though he's kinda bad at it lol, he loves his son and wants to be a good dad, he wants his partner to be happy and to love life as much as he does. Cons, and the reason he's not higher on the list: He's a pushover; easily influenced by the toxic people in his life, and it gets him into a lot of trouble. Being easily influenced by toxic dumpster fire of a human being Chloe almost lost him the partial custody of his son that he barely even had. He's an absolute sweetheart, but he's a complete man-child, and dating him would often feel more like raising him.

5 Frank "Suffer Buddy"

Come on! You know he and Mickey had to be back-to-back - they're practically the same character! 😂 Frank is Mickey... slightly more grown up. He's still a disaster, but he's respectful of boundaries, he's caring, he's funny in a dry, witty way that I just adore, and hoo lordy that man is a giver! 🥴🥵 Honestly, if he didn't smoke and didn't ditch Daphne in the middle of a party hours away from everything familiar to her surrounded by strangers to go do drugs, I'd call Frank perfect. He listened, he respected her wishes, he tried to keep some distance between them when he found out she'd gone on a date with his best friend (it failed utterly and brought us to the "damn that man's good with his mouth" portion of the movie lmao but still)... I don't have a whole lot of experience with men who actually give a shit, okay? So Frank is like a goddamn unicorn to me lmao. But that drug thing... That keeps him at the bottom of the Top 5 for me. Sorry, bb

4 Bucky

I can already hear everyone on here raging at me for placing Bucky so low on this list, but hear me out: I love this man. I love all four iterations of this man. Flirty 40s Bucky was a doll (fun date, not commitment material). Post-POW camp 40s Bucky had a fire to him that set me on fire. The Winter Soldier can choke me any damn day. Unf. And TFATWS Bucky... Oh, lady above, 2023 Bucky is a gem! He's sweet, snarky, and broken. He feels utterly, wretchedly alone in the world, and everyone around him, including his only friend, is telling him to "man up" and "make amends" for shit that was never his fault to begin with, rather than helping him come to terms with all that he's suffered and all that he's survived. Bucky needs and deserves love. A relationship with him would be so solid, if he found the right person... But it would take a fuck ton of work. He needs someone strong, patient, and more stubborn than he is to prod him until he finds a better therapist and actually opens up, and to keep him on track because even good therapy comes with homework. He does have to "do the work," Sam was right about that much, but he was way off base with what that "work" is. Bucky needs help and understanding, and he would be an amazing boyfriend... if he found someone with the strength to help him weather his nightmares and flashbacks, and help pull him out of this PTSD pit he's been in since 1943.

3 Chris Beck

Big brains turn me on, okay? 😂This man is an astronaut and a surgeon! Yes, please! Come here, you sexy genius! He's smart, he's funny - pretty sure Sebastian is incapable of playing anyone who's not delightfully snarky lol. He's pragmatic when he needs to be but there's also nothing he wouldn't do or risk for the ones he loves. This man is husband material and I cannot be convinced otherwise! So why isn't he #1? Cuz of the whole... spending years in space, thing. Super cool job and I'd be his biggest fan on the ground, but god damn, I would miss him while he's away!

2 TJ Hammond

Look, I'm gender fluid and he's a little bit bi 😂😂😂 Let me have my fantasy, okay? TJ's definitely got a lot of shit to work through, but love brings out the best in him. Before that fucking closeted shitbag broke his heart and stomped on it for good measure, TJ was clean and sober for months, he was happy, he was playing piano again, he was pulling himself together. Not only would he be an amazing boyfriend, but his partner would get the extra joy of getting to watch their love and devotion to him be the thing that saves this beautiful man's life. It's not healthy overall to tie your self worth and will to live to a relationship, but if he found the right person who would be there for him through all of life's shit and stick it out, I think he'd be okay. Even after his lowest point and without the support of his family, TJ still had a dream and he still chased it. He's not just the sweetest person to ever grace our screens, but he's ambitious and business-savvy, too. Keep him off drugs and watch this man take over the world, I'm telling you!

So why is TJ only #2? Well, besides the fact that he's like 99% gay and I have no bits he'd be interested in lmao, there's also the fact that this guy owns my heart:

1 Will Franklyn

And not just because we get to see him wet and mostly naked lol. Will is fucking perfect. I would die for this man... because he's already shown that he would die for his love. He almost fucking did, and they weren't even together yet! He's smart and very aware, he's a writer so we'd get to bond/geek out over books together, he's not all full of himself (self-deprecating humor ftw!) and he's willing to help a total stranger despite actual mortal peril, just because it's the right thing to do. Fierce, intelligent, sassy, strong-willed, and a flawless moral compass? YESYESYESYESYES! Forget boyfriend - let me MARRY this man! 😍🥰

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (v)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of poor parenting and damaged familial relationships

series masterpost: here

a/n: and just like that we're halfway through!!! it's crazy to think about it. however, lots happens in this chapter so buckle up peeps

Soon Magdalene’s feelings are going to get the better of her.

She knows she’s heading down a dangerous path but she can’t help it. Ryan is like a drug she can’t get enough of even though she knows it will hurt her in the long run. Living with him has opened her up to the laid back, intelligent, incredibly funny man he is and Magdalene doesn’t know how she’s ever going to function in her own space ever again. They complement each other like two peas in a pod, and everyone else is starting to catch on to the shift in their relationship.

“When are you going to fess up to Ryan about your feelings?” Bette asks as the two of them sit on the lawn across from the university library. It’s mid October, but the weather is still warm enough that Magdalene eats her lunch outside. Her best friend decided to join her today, no doubt knowing that she’s feeling a little lonely. The Avalanche are in the middle of their season opening road trip and have been gone for nearly five days. Ryan’s condo feels empty without him in it, and Magdalene misses him an unfathomable amount.

“Never, if I can help it,” she replies casually, taking a bite of the turkey wrap that Bette brought her from Barn Owl.

The blonde scoffs. “Fuck off. You have to. What are you going to do when he gets back from Florida and you tackle him as soon as he steps through the door.”

“Caligula will get there first,” Magdalene shrugs. “Those two are thick as thieves.”

Truthfully, Magdalene wasn’t sure what she was going to do. This is the longest they’ve been separated since she moved in and it’s proving to be a harder adjustment than she thought. Magdalene feels a little silly missing him so much – she went nearly twenty-six years without knowing Ryan but now he’s imprinted on her soul for the rest of eternity. Living without him seems impossible.

Bette drops the conversation then, almost as if she knows Magdalene is in her own world thinking about what to do. She mentions the upcoming home opener and her plans to attend with a couple of the other wives and girlfriends. “We’re going out beforehand and you should join us! I really think you’d like most of them.”

The bell in the clock tower rings, signalling the start of another hour, and Magdalene promises she’ll consider the offer as they pack up the picnic and say goodbye. It’s a short walk back to the building she works in, seeing as they were only across the street, but it takes a while for the elevator to come around. Magdalene could have taken the stairs down to the basement but they scare her a lot more than she’d like to admit. Hopefully June won’t mind her being a few minutes late.

Her boss doesn’t look too pleased when Magdalene strolls through the door almost seven minutes later then she should have, but as soon as she tosses the cookie Bette brought her in June’s direction all is forgiven. They work in near silence all afternoon, background noise provided by the small stereo in the corner and their respective grunts of frustration when an image doesn’t digitize properly. The university has finally decided to undertake the massive project of making all their school records available to the public online, and Magdalene and June are in charge of getting all the files ready before sending them to IT for installation into the website. It’s a huge task and is going to take them the better part of a month and a half to finish. Magdalene spends the rest of her work day finishing up a box of graduation records from the 1870s and leaves smelling of very old paper.

On the drive home she considers the invitation Bette extended to her. Magdalene knows she’ll be attending the game, having promised Ryan before he left that she’d be there, but she doesn’t know how to feel about going out for dinner and drink beforehand – especially with people so involved with the team. She isn’t like them, in nearly every sense of the phrase, and doesn’t want people to get the wrong idea. It wouldn’t be fair to Ryan for people to assume they’re together in case he ever does want to bring someone around, but Magdalene can’t help thinking that the speculation wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps it would be the clue that shows him how she feels.

The invite stays in the back of her brain while she heats up leftovers and eats quickly, knowing that Ryan will call soon. He’s like clockwork with his precise game day routine, and he always calls shortly after four o’clock when out east. Magdalene’s phone buzzes from the spot beside her on the couch and she quickly scoops it up and accepts the call.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless because she’s so excited to talk to him.

“Hey yourself. How was work?” Magdalene can tell Ryan’s got a smile on his face even though she can’t see him. She indulges the question, telling him all about the stuff she digitized and what’s next. Though she always tries to get out of talking about work, fearing it will bore the daylights out of him, Ryan insists on hearing every detail Magdalene wants to share. He finds it all fascinating and tells her so every chance he gets. During her monologue Caligula wanders over and becomes extremely invested after he hears Ryan laugh at something Magdalene said. The small white cat jumps onto Magdalene’s lap and tries to paw the phone away from her ear.

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker. Little boots would like to talk.”

At the sound of Ryan’s greeting, Caligula starts meowing up a storm. It’s as though he’s actually holding a conversation with the man, waiting for Ryan to say something before he continues to make noise. Magdalene laughs through what could barely classify as a conversation until the cat gives her space to talk again.

“So,” she says, drawing out the word in an attempt to make Ryan laugh. “Bette asked me to join her and some of the other girls for drinks before Friday’s game.”

Ryan’s responding before Magdalene has finished uttering the last words. “That’s great! I think you should go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, “It would be nice for you to know someone other than Bette.”

Magdalene is surprised at the response, but tries her hardest to keep her tone light and teasing. “Why, you plan on keeping me around Mr. Graves?” She can tell Ryan is struggling to come up with an answer because there’s a fair amount of sputtering on the other end of the line.

“I’d be stupid to let you go.”

All the breath in Magdalene’s lungs escapes her. She didn’t expect him to say something like that, and it sends her mind reeling. What does he mean? Unable to process the comment, Magdalene makes up an excuse and hangs up as quickly as possible. She spends the rest of the night wondering if Ryan was trying to make a move and deciding how she should handle his homecoming in a few days.

☼☼☼☼

When Ryan gets home Thursday morning Magdalene is at work. Caligula is happy to see him, practically pouncing on him and purring so loud Ryan’s sure the neighbours heard the cat. For an animal so small, Caligula can make a lot of noise if he wants.

“Hi boy,” Ryan coos, adjusting his grip on the cat so he doesn’t get dropped while the two of them move around the house. “Did your mom talk about me while I was gone? Been thinking about her a lot lately.”

The cat doesn’t respond, of course, but Ryan finds comfort in vocalizing his emotions. Multiple times on the road trip Tyson made fun of him for the silent pining he’s found himself participating in since Magdalene moved in, and hinted that she might have said something to Bette. Neither of them are great at keeping secrets, but Ryan also knows they want him and Magdalene to get together and aren’t above manipulation to achieve their goals. He doesn’t know how Magdalene actually feels, but Ryan isn’t willing to risk losing their friendship. Just a couple of months ago she sat on the deck of the lake house and told him she wasn’t looking for a relationship – he has to assume that’s still her position because if he doesn’t Ryan isn’t quite sure what he’ll unleash. Though the two of them are close, closer than most friends, Magdalene stills keeps a lot of things to herself and Ryan doesn’t want to pry. When, and if, she’s ready he knows she’ll come to him.

Exhausted from the countless hours of travel he’s endured over the past few days and the pains that come along with being a professional athlete, Ryan falls back onto the couch cushions. He hurts in places he didn’t know existed and wants to do nothing but sleep. Caligula settles into his stomach, purring contently, and though he knows he should unpack his gear, Ryan can’t find the energy to move himself or the cat. Everything will still be there when he wakes up, and hopefully Magdalene will be on her way home. She texted Ryan earlier in the morning, no doubt just before she headed out the door, to say that she was taking some holidays to have a long weekend and would be home around noon. Sleep comes easy with Caligula nestled against his body, and Ryan dreams of Magdalene as he frequently does.

☼☼☼☼

Despite Bette telling her countless times she shouldn’t be, Magdalene is nervous. The significant others of the Colorado Avalanche are a tight knit group and are very particular with who they let in. Magdalene is a nothing, has no true connections to the team besides being Tyson’s girlfriend’s best friend, and she’s worried she won’t make the cut. If it wasn’t for Bette picking her up in the morning Magdalene would have found a way to get out of drinks, but the blonde made sure she couldn’t make a run for it.

Sitting in the elevated booth, she not-so-casually sips her glass of wine while Bette tries to calm her down. “They’re going to hate me,” she groans, lowering her head to rest it on the table.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bette counters. “You literally know most of them, and Livy will be here if you get too uncomfortable, but most of them were at EJ’s back in May.”

Magdalene can’t argue with the truth, so she rolls her eyes and finishes her drink. By the time she flags down the waiter for a refill the other girls have arrived. They take turns hugging Bette and shuffling into their seats. Magdalene feels awkward with no one acknowledging her, but she does her best to buck up and deal with it. It means a lot to Bette, and Ryan, that she’s here trying to make friends so she’ll at least make an effort.

A blonde who looks a little older than the rest addresses her first. “I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Mel. I think we met last season at a game.”

It takes Magdalene a second to recall the face, but then she recognizes Mel as the person who alerted her to the fight Ryan got into to defend Tyson. “Oh yeah,” she chuckles, though it’s still got a nervous quality, “You’re the one who was yelling about Ryan’s fight.”

Everyone looks at her like Magdalene had confessed to seeing a ghost. “What’s the matter?”

“No one ever calls him that,” a petite girl with tight curls explains. “We all just call him Gravy.”

“Oh.”

Magdalene isn’t sure what the comment is supposed to mean, or if it even meant anything at all, but she does her best to push it aside because Livy is trying to catch up with her. The rest of the outing goes well – Magdalene keeps quiet until someone gives an inaccurate analogy about Rome and she has to correct them. It may make her seem stuck up, but she really hates when people spread misinformation. Everyone laughs, and after that it’s hard for Magdalene to stay silent. She talks about work and college, but when someone asks about home she shuts down. Bette notices the shift in her behaviour before Magdalene’s face has even dropped, and shifts the conversation in another direction. Soon it’s a respectable time to head to the arena and they all pay their tabs, Magdalene going first and then ducking out of the bar that became crowded while they were sitting down.

The fresh air feels good against her skin, and she takes the time alone to regulate her thoughts. There’s still several hours until she can return home and cry in the shower over the mention of her family so it’s important to present a calm facade. Bette comes out slightly ahead of the other girls and checks in with her friend, but Magdalene assures her she’s okay. It was a bit of a spook, but the other girls have no idea about how fucked up her familial situation is so Magdalene can’t hold it against them. The arena is a few blocks over, so the group walks towards it at a brisk pace. Magdalene’s mind is still churning from the bar when they step inside, so she peels off from the rest of the group. Warm ups are about to start and she knows that seeing Ryan will help to calm her down, at least until they can go home and she can sequester herself away from the rest of the world.

She finds a space against the glass and strains her eyes for her new favourite number. Ryan hasn’t made it out on the ice yet, but Tyson gives her a big wave when he skates past. It takes a few seconds, though it feels like years, but Ryan eventually steps out, all long limbs and hair and dazzling smile as his teammates give him big hi-fives. Magdalene doesn’t want to intrude but she needs to spend a few moments with him to feel completely present. When he skates by she waves shyly, and Ryan doubles back once he realizes who it is.

“There’s my favourite girl!” he shouts over the crowd, making sure Magdalene can hear.

The phrase brings a smile to her face, which in turn makes Ryan light up more. “Hi Ry,” she yells back. “I just wanted to come and say hi.”

Ryan’s heart warms at her words, but he knows that’s not the only reason. He’s lived with her long enough to know that something is bothering her but he isn’t going to push. There isn’t much time to have a conversation, so Ryan takes the time to make plans for after the game. “You riding home with me?”

Magdalene nods. “Yeah. Bette picked me up this morning so I didn’t drive.”

The loud sound of sticks clapping against the ice startles them both, and it’s Ryan’s teammate’s way of getting him to refocus. Magdalene says goodbye and before Ryan heads back to the bench he flips a puck over the glass for her. She smiles brightly, and watches him skate away. On her way up the stairs she hands it to a little girl wearing a much too big Graves jersey. It makes her night, and Magdalene returns to the private box she’s watching the game from feeling much lighter than when she entered the arena.

☼☼☼☼

Later, much later, after all of Ryan’s post game media and sitting through the traffic of downtown, Magdalene opens up about what was bothering her at the arena. The two of them are curled up in Ryan’s bed buried under a mass of blankets with several pillows strewn about. It’s become a frequent place for them to spend time, and every time they lay down Magdalene rests her head on Ryan’s chest and he keeps her in place with his arms wrapped tightly around her. Magdalene’s clutching his hoodie tighter than usual, her voice small as she speaks into the darkness of the room.

“I didn’t just want to say hi earlier.”

Ryan isn’t surprised by her confession, but wants to know what caused the surprise visit. “No? What was it?”

Magdalene lift head and shifts to face him, propping herself up with an open palm. “It’s kind of stupid,” she mumbles, feeling dumb for even bringing it up. Ryan doesn’t want to know the sob story that is her past life. “But it’s mostly okay now.”

“You don’t have to tell me, and I don’t want to push, but I think getting it off your chest will help,” he whispers, feeling like talking in a normal voice could startle the girl in front of him.

He’s right – Magdalene knows it. Telling someone the truth, as much of the truth as she can share, other than Bette would do her some good. Her therapist once said Magdalene needed to work on letting people in, and she figures there’s no one better than Ryan. “One of the girls asked me about home when we were getting drinks, and it’s just a really sore subject for me. I shut down and just needed to see you to ground myself.” Ryan goes to talk, but Magdalene continues. “No one really knows, but I left for Denver as soon as I graduated high school. My parents weren’t the greatest, and I suffered a lot emotionally at home. When I told them I was leaving, they told me never to come back and we haven’t spoken since. So yeah, that’s pretty much it. And I just needed to see you to remind myself that I’m okay without my family. You’re part of my family now, the one that really matters.”

Ryan is speechless. “Oh bug,” he sighs, heart hurting for all the pain Magdalene has experienced in her life. “I’m so sorry.” He wants to scream for her, maybe even break something, but all his anger dissipates when he looks down and sees her crying. Silently, Ryan wipes away the tears with the pad of his thumb and holds Magdalene until she stops trembling. They lay in silence for a while, sitting with the weight of the confession she just made. At some point Caligula shuffles in and finds a spot at Ryan’s side that isn’t occupied by Magdalene. The three of them feel like a little family, and it’s too good for Magdalene not to do something about.

“Can I kiss you?”

She’s never been so confident while asking a question. Magdalene knows he wants to kiss Ryan, has known for a while, and after baring her soul to him it seems like an appropriate time to take the plunge. They’ve never truly been just friends and everyone around them, including themselves, knows it.

“Mags,” Ryan says in a gentle yet stern voice, “I’m not gonna kiss you. You’ve just been very vulnerable with me, which I appreciate, and though I really really want to fucking kiss you I’m going to take advantage of you like that.”

If it were possible, Magdalene’s heart would expand so much it would be close to bursting. “I promise this is what I want and that I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. So please shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”

She leans forward to connect their lips, and it feels like a fire has been ignited in her veins. Ryan is soft and gentle with the right amount of grit to make Magdalene weak in the knees. They move in tandem, giving and taking where necessary, and by the time they pull apart for air Magdalene thinks she’ll never be able to kiss anyone other than Ryan. When he looks at her, eyes kind and glimmering with light, Magdalene is certain kissing other people is off the table.

Neither of them make an effort to talk about what just happened or what it means. Instead, Magdalene kisses him again, and again, and keeps going until she’s completely out of breath. There’s no protest from Ryan, and he looks as blissful as Magdalene feels. She rests her head on his chest again and he cards his fingers through her hair as they sit in the comfortable silence that surrounds them.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene keeps kissing Ryan, and he keeps kissing her. It’s always in the safety of his apartment, oftentimes with Caligula in the way, but wholesome and loving and warm. They haven’t defined their relationship, and truthfully Magdalene is glad. She likes being friends with Ryan and doesn’t know how the added pressures of dating would affect them – though she might like kissing him more than just being friends.

It becomes routine for either of them to reach for a kiss before heading to the door. Magdalene gets one every time she leaves for work, and if she’s there before Ryan has to leave for games he’s pulled into her lips by his tie. It’s fun and it’s new and Magdalene never wants it to end. She keeps the secret for a couple weeks, but eventually it becomes too much to hold in and she tells Bette one Saturday when they meet for brunch at Barn Owl because the boys are away.

“I kissed Ryan.” It’s out of her mouth like a bullet, cutting through the air and ringing out. Bette is shocked, jaw dropping, only to open further when Magdalene corrects herself. “Been kissing Ryan, actually.”

“You’re fucking joking,” Bette laughs, still not one hundred percent sure Magdalene is being serious. When the brunette nods her head, she squeals in what can only be presumed as delight. “Shut up! Tell me everything!”

Magdalene indulges her friend, and spills every detail she’s willing to share. Part of her wants to keep a bit of her life with Ryan a secret so she does, but Bette is more than willing to work with the information given. She listens carefully while Magdalene talks and waits until there’s nothing more to say before diving into a long list of reasons why kissing Ryan is the best thing that’s ever happened to her friend. Magdalene isn’t sure that it’s great because Bette will always have someone to go to games with, but she is in agreement that it is one of the best choices she’s ever made. They spend the rest of the morning giggling like school girls over potential love and Magdalene heads back to Ryan’s place feeling light and airy.

☼☼☼☼

The first thing Ryan does when he comes home is kisses Magdalene. She’s sitting on the couch with Caligula on her lap reading a book, and he doesn’t even bother to drop his bags on the floor before leaning over the worn leather and connecting their lips. It feels heavenly after the days-long absence and Magdalene chases his lips when Ryan pulls away.

“I missed you.”

They’re three words that shouldn’t mean much, but coming from him they send Magdalene spiralling. He missed her? The girl who spends her days geeking out over old documents and talks to her cat? Regardless of how true the statement is she appreciates it, because Magdalene missed Ryan more than she could ever explain.

“How was the flight home?” she asks, twirling a lock of his hair around her index finger and pulling him down for another kiss. Ryan happily obliges, and kisses her until Caligula begins to meow for attention. The cat practically launches himself into Ryan’s arms as he rounds the corner to sit down next to Magdalene, and purrs loudly at being reunited with the tall man.

Ryan laughs at the animal’s antics before wrapping his spare arm around Magdalene and pulling her close. “It was fine. We hit a bit of turbulence that made it hard to sleep but I managed,” he replies, and reaches for the television remote. Magdalene hums in response, resting her head on Ryan’s shoulder and returning her attention to the book in her hands. It’s silent except for the low buzz of the television as Ryan reviews tape, but neither of them mind. Co-existing is enough for both of them, and it’s peaceful and easy. The occasional conversation occurs but they mostly do their own thing, enjoying the feeling of being together again. More than a few kisses are shared, and Magdalene eventually pries herself away from Ryan long enough to make dinner.

They stayed glued to each other until Magdalene falls asleep. Ryan doesn’t even notice when it happens, but eventually he tries to leave the couch to get a glass of water and finds dead weight on top of him in the shape of the girl he just might love. Magdalene’s snoring softly, and he’s positive there is nothing more adorable in the entire world. A glance at the clock on the wall alerts Ryan to the fact that he should go to bed too, and he begins to brainstorm how to get Magdalene into bed without waking her. She’s been exhausted lately, working extended hours, and he knows she needs all the rest she can get.

It takes a few moments to coordinate, but Ryan gets himself upright without Magdalene realizing she’s no longer using him as a pillow. Gently he scoops her into his arms and pads down the hallway, careful not to hit her ankles on the walls or door frames. Once inside her room, Ryan tucks Magdalene into bed and makes sure her phone is on the nightstand just where she likes it. She looks so content in sleep that he can’t help but lean down and press a shirt kiss to her forehead.

“Night Mags,” he whispers into the dark, wondering if she’ll wake and hear all the adoration his voice holds.

Magdalene stirs at the noise, and opens her eyes to see Ryan’s retreating figure. “Night Ry.”

It’s late, approaching two in the morning, when Magdalene’s phone starts ringing off the hook. Though Ryan has told her multiple times that she doesn’t need to turn her sound on before she goes to bed, she can never find it in her to heed his words. What if there’s an emergency somewhere and some hospital has to get a hold of her? Magdalene would never be able to forgive herself if she was too late because she slept through the incoming calls.

Despite her underlying fears of missing something important, Magdalene considers letting it go to voicemail. She’s exhausted, between the high maintenance projects at work and trying her hardest to go to every Avalanche home game she can, and if it’s urgent she’s sure the person will call again if they need her. It rings three more times before Magdalene decides to pick it up – if only to stop the incessant noise.

Not bothering to even see who’s calling at such an ungodly hour, Magdalene speaks in a sleep-laden voice that betrays what she was doing not even a minute prior. “Hello?”

Bette answers her, offering a quick but sincere apology for the time but explaining that it couldn’t wait. Magdalene groans in contempt, thinking that it most certainly could have waited a few more hours. She doesn’t voice her opinion however, instead waiting for her friend to spill whatever news was making her bounce up and down on the other side of the line.

She’s about to hang up when Bette utters a sentence Magdalene’s been waiting for but never thought she’d hear at one fifty-seven am. “I’m getting married!”

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlouisbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster @rapidfever @bb-nhlqueen7 (add yourself to the taglist!)

[kopikokun]

Beach Day Blues༄ l.dh

↳ Out on a day trip to the beach with your boyfriend and his friends, you’re anticipating a fun time filled with sunny memories and sand filled swimsuits. What you’re not expecting is the cold shoulder from your usually happy-go-lucky boyfriend, but you’re going to get to the root of this issue, even if it’ll kill you.

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader ft. yuta, mark & jaehyun

content: fluff, beach day, reverse comfort fic, jealousy fic, very mildly suggestive ending

word count: 2053 words

Request 36: Haechan + “I need a hug.” (42) + “You’re cute when you’re angry.” (47) + “You own my heart.” (59) + Jealousy

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Perhaps you’re being delusional. Perhaps you’re just dehydrated or, maybe, you rationalise, the scalding rays of the evening Sun have burned not only your skin but your brain cells too (if there were any to begin with). Maybe all of this is just in your head and you’re overthinking it.

    “Hey,” someone hisses, “is it just me or is Donghyuck giving you the cold shoulder?”

    At the question, or rather observation, your head swivels an almost sharp 90 degrees to stare Yuta straight in the eyes. “So, it wasn’t just me thinking that!”

    Yuta chuckles. “Yeah, he definitely seems off…” He peers at Donghyuck discreetly from beneath his sunglasses before turning back towards you. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

    “A fight? No way!” You pause, suddenly doubting yourself. “At least, I don’t think so…”

    Though you’re confident in your verdict of innocence regarding a fight, Yuta’s question prompts you to briefly run through the events of the day. To preface things, you, your boyfriend, Donghyuck, and a few of your friends—namely, Yuta, Jaehyun and Mark—had decided around half a month ago to clear up one day in advance for a ‘beach day’ this week. The idea had sprung after someone had brought up how nice and sunny the weather had been lately, and everyone just unanimously came to the conclusion that sunny weather equals beach day.

     You had begun packing for this trip a few days ahead to the surprise of everyone including yourself, which is a testament to your overwhelming excitement, because you rarely--if ever--pack that early for just a single day trip. But who can blame you? This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck. No, you should rephrase that. This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck as your boyfriend. You’ve been on plenty of trips before when you two were just ‘friends’, but now--and maybe this is the romanticist in you which you’ve successfully kept stored away up until recently speaking--it just feels different. You’re sure someone out there can relate, because you’ve never been one to obsess over something as feeble as a label, yet this trip has had your stomach in knots for ages.

  The packing process had gone smoothly--neither you nor Donghyuck had forgotten anything--and so had the car ride over. As far as you can recall, your day at the beach so far has gone without a hitch too. You’d had a little picnic, dipped in the oddly warm sea, played some beach volleyball (badly) and gotten some icecream afterward. No fights, no issues, no nothing.

   Maybe, you think, he found out I was involved in that little switch up with the sea water. You don’t entertain the idea for too long though immediately casting it away, because you know Donghyuck would never be the type to get so upset over a prank.

    So, why the attitude?

    You gaze at Donghyuck’s back, hoping that this mystery might just unravel itself if you stare long enough.

    “Huh…” Yuta’s voice tears you from your zealous staring competition with Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Then I wonder what’s up…”

    You sigh. You know you should confront him and have a mature conversation about what’s bothering him, but that’s so much easier said than done. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing you for ridiculing all those scenes in cheesy teen flicks where the couple would experience a major fall-out because of poor communication. During said scenes, you’d be pulling your hair out, internally screaming at the couple to just freaking talk already, yet now that you’ve been presented this obstacle for you to overcome yourself, you’re erring on the side of caution.

    Come on, you reason, I’ve been friends with Donghyuck for over half-a-decade and we’ve gotten into our fair share of arguments during those five years. What’s so different about now?

    Yeah, you’re right. You find yourself agreeing with your own thoughts, physically nodding along like you’re speaking to someone. Yuta raises a concerned eyebrow at you. Nothing’s different compared to then. You’re doing it again. He’s just my boyfriend, and that’s just a label. Stop. Obsessing. Over. Labels.

    Admittedly, it’s a bit embarrassing having to psyche yourself up to do this, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that little pep-talk, no matter how laughable it sounded, has gotten you to stand and saunter to Donghyuck with utmost confidence. In hindsight, you should’ve said something to Yuta beforehand instead of just springing from your seat and marching away. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind though, as it was obviously preoccupied with something arguably much more important than giving him the luxury of context.

    You decide not to be too transparent about your feelings at first as you take a seat beside Donghyuck on the sand, leaning your head on his shoulder, hoping that all of this was really just your imagination getting the best of you. You silently plead that he’ll perhaps treat you like he normally would, giving you a little peck on the cheek or at least wrapping his arm around your waist. Unfortunately, your hopes are smothered just as quickly as they arise because Donghyuck doesn’t even bat an eye at you, continuing to chat with Jaehyun and flat-out ignoring your presence. Still optimistic for a reaction, you leave a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, just to let him know that “Hey, I’m here!”, but to no avail. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t even flinch. All he does is drone on to Jaehyun about something you couldn’t care less about.

    You huff. Audibly. A last ditch effort in vying for Donghyuck’s attention. It goes just as well as your previous attempts. You cross your arms, glaring at the side of Donghyuck’s stubborn little head, hoping to bore a deep hole through his brain. Maybe then he’ll finally take notice of you. Sensing the undeniable tensity in the air, Jaehyun clears his throat awkwardly, offering Donghyuck some lame excuse about needing to take a piss, before shuffling away. Well, at least someone knows how to take a hint.

    With Jaehyun’s departure, you’re left alone with Donghyuck. Usually, he’d be leaping to drown you in affection the second you two had privacy--or even if you two didn’t, to be frank--but all he does now is fiddle with the strings of his swimming shorts absentmindedly.

    “What’s wrong, Hyuck?” you finally ask, desperate to break this frustratingly suffocating silence. “Is something wrong?”

    Finally, after what seems like centuries, Donghyuck acknowledges your existence, though the look he gives you is not a pleasant one. In fact, it’s one of agitation. His tongue prods at his inner cheek before he says, tone bitter, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

    Evidently taken aback, you crease your eyebrows at him. “I… Did I do something wrong, babe?”

    “Oh, come on,” he scoffs, scornful amusement overtaking his normally amiable features. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You can just come out and say it.”

    “Say what, Hyuck?”

    “How much more you’re into Mark than into me,” Donghyuck says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

    You can’t help but laugh, simply bewildered as to how on Earth he came to this conclusion. “I’m into who now?”

    “Mark,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “don’t have to pretend like you’re surprised.”

  “I’m not into--” you sigh, a smile of disbelief tugging at your lips. “Okay, tell me why you think I’m into Mark.”

    “I don’t think. I know,” Donghyuck argues and you scoff, “but it’s obvious. And I have proof. Take when we were playing volleyball for instance. The whole time, you kept eyeing Mark up and laughing at his jokes. All of them. Even the weird ones that nobody gets.”

    You snort. “Baby… I wasn’t ‘eyeing Mark up’, I was watching him just in case he missed the ball. And about the joke thing, to his credit, some of them were actually pretty funny! But, as for the the rest--and don’t tell Mark I said this--I felt kinda bad nobody else laughed at them, so I just laughed along with him. Trust me, I’ve been in his shoes before and it sucks. Not all of us are born as naturally as funny as you, Hyuck.” You’re a little remorseful that you’re essentially dissing Mark, but you’re sure he’d understand. Your relationship’s on the line here.

    Donghyuck harrumphs, but you can tell by the slight quirk of his lip that he’s a little tickled by you poking fun at Mark and he’s totally been swayed by your compliment.

    “Okay, fine that explains that, but how about when we went swimming just now? Why did you and Mark keep exchanging funny looks?”

    “That?” You giggle. “You know how your drink was mysteriously replaced by seawater?”

    “Yeah,” he trails off, his suspicion growing by the second.

    “Who do you think that was?”

    Donghyuck groans. “Wait, that was you? Seriously? That was mean, babe.”

  “Aww, I know, Hyuck. I’m sorry,” you coo. Your hand inches its way closer to his as you attempt to intertwine your fingers together.

    Donghyuck rejects your endeavour of fondness. “Nu-uh, no way. I’m not done with you yet.”

    “Oh my God, Hyuck, there’s more?” you complain, though there’s a tint of amusement in your voice.

    “Yes, there’s more, and you won’t be able to worm your way out of this one either,” he says smugly, as if it’d be a good thing if you in fact, couldn’t worm your way out of his next accusation. “How about when we went to get ice cream and you kept sliding up next to him?”

    You pout. “I just wanted to try the watermelon popsicle he got.”

    Donghyuck blinks at you, his once irritated expression dissolving. He seems dumbfounded as you hold his gaze, your mirthful smile never faltering. He turns away from you. “Oh, well… then whatever. I guess you aren’t into Mark.”

    “Hyuck,” you say, hand crawling up his arm, “were you jealous?”

    “Well, yeah, obviously,” he deadpans, still refusing to meet your gaze.

    You giggle. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

    His cold facade is immediately abandoned at your teasing intonation, and just like that, your cheery Hyuck is back. “Baby,” he whines, readjusting himself so he’s facing you head-on, “don’t tease me. I couldn’t help but be jealous, you know?”

    “And why is that?”

    Donghyuck purses his lips. “Why? What do you mean why?” He gestures up and down, eyes sweeping over you. “Look how pretty you are! What am I supposed to do when you look this good all the time? It’s unfair, really, that you’re this pretty.”

    A blistering heat, one that is much hotter than the Sun, gathers in your cheeks. “Oh really now, Hyuck?”

    “Yes, really,” he says, genuity seeping into his every word. “Literally, everyday I’m surprised you’re even real.” You grin bashfully and Donghyuck pounds his fist to his chest dramatically like he’s been shot. “See! You’re only smiling and I’m already having heart palpitations at just twenty years old.”

    “Okay, okay, Hyuck. You can stop hyping me up now,” you chuckle. You’re beyond glad that your boyfriend has returned to his spirited self, but you know you should address what just happened seriously, just in case. “But hey, I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Looking back, it definitely could’ve been misinterpreted as flirting and I would never want you to have any reason to feel insecure about our relationship because you own my heart, Hyuck.”

    “Aw, babe, you can be really cheesy when you want to be,” says Donghyuck, pinching your cheeks. He plays what you said off casually, but you know that deep down, it resonates with him, and he honestly appreciates your sincerity. “Come here, I need a hug.”

    “Right now? There are people around, Hyuck.”

    “But you look so good right now. I can’t resist.”

    “I don’t know, Hyuck…” You smile demurely.

    “Alright, then what about,” Donghyuck reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering, “we ditch the beach day and go cuddle in the car? My skin’s burning, anyway.”

    You grin. “They’re gonna notice that we went missing, you know?”

    “So?” Donghyuck challenges, leaning in to place a short but telling kiss on the juncture which connects your ear and your jaw. “Even better. I want them to know.”

[lavenderbexlatte]

frostbite

stray kids 1k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Kim Seungmin FLUFF/SFW

🖤 warnings: cavity risk, it’s so sweet 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

You wonder if Seungmin will notice if you just scoot a little closer to him.

The subway seats are practically on top of each other, anyway. The two of you are almost touching, and you can feel the body heat radiating off him. It’s way too tempting.

It’s rare that Seungmin actually wants to be social after work; you go for meals and drinks with other coworkers often, but he usually prefers to retreat back to wherever he lives and disappear until Monday morning. But tonight, when you offered to take him for some quick dinner after your shared shift, he agreed.

And now here you are, side by side on the freezing-cold subway car. It’s mostly empty of the other people who keep the car warm (usually uncomfortably so), and you swear you can see your breath in the air. Even wrapped in your layers, you can’t deny it: you’re cold. But Seungmin doesn’t suffer fools well, and you know for a fact that if you said something to him, he would just tell you to wear warmer clothes next time. Since it’s winter and all.

Even so, you move a little closer to him.

“Do you know what you want to eat?” Seungmin asks, and you jump, half-expecting him to be chastising you.

“Uh,” you sputter, “I mean – whatever – do you have any ideas?”

He makes a noncommittal little noise, and leans to the side to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket. For the brief moment that he makes full contact with your hip and shoulder, you relish in the warmth, but then he’s sat upright and in his own seat again, tapping at his phone screen.

“If we get off…here…” Seungmin tilts the phone toward you and taps at a subway stop on his navigation app, “Then there’s a place that does all-day brunch? That could be fun.”

You press yourself even closer to him to peer down at the screen. “Yeah, I just want a hot meal.”

“Cold, are you?”

“Not really,” you lie, even as your poor frozen toes cry out for help inside your woefully weather-inadequate work shoes.

Seungmin glances at you like he doesn’t quite buy it, but he just nods. “Brunch it is.”

You only have a few more subway stops before you have to go back out into the even colder world above, so you shameless remain right next to Seungmin even after the phone has been stowed and the conversation is over. Your thigh is pressed against his, your shoulder nudging his shoulder. It’s all you can do not to just climb right into his lap, propriety and work relationship be damned. Not sexually, or anything. He’s just so damn warm.

The filter between your brain and your mouth fails you.

“How are you so warm?”

Seungmin looks down, very slowly, to all the places where your body meets his, taking in your very-unsubtle trembling and the way you’re worrying your hands together.

“I think the more important question is, why are you so cold?” Seungmin replies.

“I have bad circulation, it’s just-”

“And also,” he interrupts, “Why are you so close to me?”

Damn. Busted.

“I’m sorry, I just…you’re really warm,” you say helplessly.

He’s still looking at you with mild concern, like you’re someone’s child having a tantrum in public, so you move away from him slightly. You know he’s not overly affectionate, not like some of your coworkers who like hugs on special days and a hand on their shoulder when they’re addressed. Maybe you’re overstepping a bit, which makes you feel bad. The two of you are friends, or so you assume. You don’t want to cross any lines.

But then he says, “You didn’t have to move.”

You really don’t have a response to that, so you just look at your hands and try to will away the embarrassed burn in your cheeks. He doesn’t press the matter any further, and the two of you finish the ride in silence.

You didn’t have to move? What the hell does that mean?

“Our stop,” Seungmin murmurs eventually, as the next station pulls into view and lights up the subway car in dull fluorescents.

He stands, moving to lean against the wall beside the sliding door, but you stay seated until the doors open. Once you’re both in the station, however, it becomes glaringly obvious that Seungmin is going to pretend that nothing happened at all.

“It’s a little bit of a walk but it’s worth it,” he grins, as you climb the stairs up to street level. “I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” you say.

“The exercise will warm you up.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, alright, you can drop it.”

“But you’re so fun to tease.”

It’s much colder out on the street, which makes you groan inwardly. The restaurant will be warm, but the walk there might mean sacrificing some of your fingers to the elements. You tuck your hands into your pockets, hoping that it’ll be enough.

You’re being dramatic, but whatever. You like the number of extremities you have now, thanks.

“How far is it, exactly?” you ask.

Seungmin shrugs. “Maybe a couple blocks into the neighborhood? Not far.”

After two blocks of walking dutifully beside Seungmin and bundling farther into your coat, you feel a hand on your wrist where it disappears into your pocket. Seungmin is looking very determinedly away from you, but you watch his profile as he tugs your hand out of your pocket and interlaces your cold fingers with his warm ones.

You’re holding hands. With Seungmin.

Somehow, holding hands is just as intimate now as it was when you were a kid, starting to have crushes and go on little dates. Seungmin’s hands are large, his palm warm and soft against yours, and you feel distinctly put on the spot.

“What’s this for?” you ask, so hoarsely that you’re worried he didn’t hear and you’ll have to ask it again.

But Seungmin just says, “You’re cold.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t want you to get frostbite, or anything. That would really put out our dinner plans. And I want French toast,” he says, matter-of-fact.

It’s no-nonsense, no fluff and very Seungmin. You would completely believe his utilitarian excuse, if not for the way his thumb is slowly caressing the side of your hand. But you’re not about to call him out on it and ruin the moment.  

You just ignore the way he’s blushing and smiling to himself, and continue on your way.

[littlerockerao3]

Ooh 73 for the drabble thing if you want :)

Of course! Here it is!

73. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Trigger warning: nudity, but I guess that was obvious.

~~~~

Robb hates Summer. He hates that he constantly has to take a shower only to still be sweating three seconds later. He hates how ice cream melts in a heartbeat and it all drips along the cone and straight in his hand. He hates how he has to sleep with the window open just to let some breeze in the room but then, in the morning, the sunshine so bright and hot either wakes him up too early or ends up burning some part of his body: it happened once that he fell asleep and this ray of sunshine burnt half of his arm.

Now, as if all of this wasn’t enough, it’s fucking July and no month is hotter than July. If it was up to Robb, he’d stay home with his face in front of the fan for hours and hours. But it just so happens that he has a boyfriend who claims to see him every once in a while, but since his boyfriend is a total dickhead who loves Summer more than anything else in the world (Robb is one hundred per cent sure that is solely because he can show off his biceps) and there’s no fucking fan at his place.

That had led Robb to the only solution to survive such hot weather: lowering the blinds, undressing and lying on the bed. It does work, for a little: the pillow is cool, but he’ll have to turn it on the other side in a few, cause he feels his hair is sweating so hard it’s basically wet. But for now, it’s a nice feeling: Theon’s place is comfortable in the first place. More quiet. Cooler, cause Theon’s the only one living in here, Robb’s home is so full of people stuck with each other he’s sure that’s the reason why it’s so warm. He wishes he could live at Theon’s place forever, which is something that could actually happen at some point, cause Theon is trying to send him signals about it for days. Robb’s not even sure if Theon himself is sure of it, he just wishes he could say it as it is: “move in with me”. It’s not like Robb would refuse.

“Babe, you in there?” He hears Theon’s voice coming from the other side of the door. He’s early, he said he had to go to the store and grab a few things and that it would have taken him only five minutes, which equals two twenty-five minutes when it’s about Theon.

The door opens, “Ro-is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Robb rolls his eyes, as he turns lightly to stare at his boyfriend’s amused face, “Now don’t act like you don’t like it”.

A smirk appears on Theon’s face, thick dark eyebrows raising. He makes his way to the bed, flip flops swatting against the floor, and lays down next to Robb, “Oh I do like it indeed”.

He swats a hand down on Robb’s ass, much like he was expecting, which is the only reason Robb doesn’t wince.

“Ouch” he still says, out of instinct. In response, Theon pats his bum one more time, gentler, then rests his hand on Robb’s lower back. “Oh we both now you can handle much more than that”.

It’s true, Robb can’t deny that, but he’s too tired to replay: warm weather makes his head hurt and Theon’s hand is so warm it makes him sweat even more. He realises he’d been keeping his eyes closed only when he opens them up the moment he feels Theon’s lips pressing a kiss to his neck.

“What is wrong, sexy?”

Robb sighs in return, “My brain, my whole body is boiling. It’s too hot” he whines.

“N’aaaw, my poor little abominable snowman doesn’t like Summer, does he?” Theon brushes his nose against Robb’s cheek, then proceeds to kiss his jaw.

“I freaking ha-what did you just call me?” Robb would like to ask Theon where he got the idea for that nickname, but it’s in that moment that Theon climbs on top of him, his skin touching Robb’s. Which translates into: more sweating.

“No don’t do that, it’s too hot for you to touch me” he cries, pushing Theon away. Though Theon is only wearing shorts and a white t-shirt Robb wonders how he doesn’t need to take a shower cause, for fuck’s sake, Robb just took a shower, he’s completely naked yet he does need another shower.

“Seriously, and then you make fun of me when it’s winter and I’m too cold” Theon huffs, feigning annoyance.

Robb bends his head a little to press a small weak kiss to his shoulder, “How do you handle summer without melting or frying?” He asks it as if he’s looking for the elixir of life.

Theon twists his finger along one of Robb’s auburn curls, “I swim a lot”, he says, “In fact, we should go swim, right now and cool off”.

“In your pool?” Robb doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course he meant his pool: that was like, number one reason why Theon bought this house in the first place, cause it had enough space for a pool.

“Yep” Theon says.

“But I’ll get sunburned” Robb whines, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and caressing his long fingers with his own.

“Not if you put on sunscreen”.

“But I don’t have it here with me, and you’re a dickhead who doesn’t get sunburned because your skin tone is fucking amazing and you actually can sunbathe” Robb’s aware he sounds like a kid, but he doesn’t mind: he’s allowed to, sometimes. And it’s true, Theon does have an amazing skin tone and he’s a dickhead for that.

“I actually do have some sunscreen here” that statement causes Robb to frown in both confusion and surprise: Theon despises sunscreen, and he’s gonna regret that in a few years, but every time they go to the beach (not many times but still) and Robb tells him to put on some at least on his face, the answer he usually gets is a simple “fuck off”. That is why it’s so weird for Robb to know Theon has let some sunscreen in his home.

“You do?” he asks.

Theon rolls his eyes, a small blush making its way through his bony cheeks, “Yeah, just for you babe”.

The smile grows on Robb’s face without him trying to control it, “How thoughtful of you”.

Theon takes that as the opportunity to hide his blush behind a charming smirk, “I know right? I think I deserve a kiss”.

“More than one” Robb leans over so that his lips can touch Theon’s. He feels hands caressing his hips and lower back, til they make their way down to his ass. This time, when Theon pinches it, Robb does wince. “Ow! Stop it!” He exclaims, swatting Theon’s hands away.

Theon’s smile is just a few inches away from Robb’s mouth.

“Never” he says, then pulls him in for another kiss.

It’s Theon who pulls away first, this time: he gets up from the bed and slips inside his flip flops to grab the bottle of sunscreen from his drawer. It’s still wrapped in plastic.

“You know, I think you should stay naked” he says to Robb.

“Don’t you start” the redhead says in return: he knows that will only lead to Theon’s grabby hands not trying at all to control themselves.

“It’s not like anyone is going to see us anyway” Theons says, as he gets undressed too, only to slip inside a pair of red swim trunks, “Come on.”

Robb doesn’t know why he agrees on swimming naked while Theon is not going to be naked. Probably because he already knows those red trunks aren’t going to stay on for too long anyway. Oh well. He’s lucky enough the bush all around the house is high and no one is going to see his naked body, unless they’ll look out the top floors’ windows.

Theon’s grabby hand don’t waste time and show Robb how grabby they are right away, by applying much more sunscreen than necessary on his glutes and lower belly. Robb actually has to ask Theon to focus a little more on his shoulders and back, cause he’s been outside under the sun for five minutes and they’re burning already.

“There you go, now there’s no way you’re going to get sunburned, this is the sunscreen that’s usually used on little kids” Theon rubs the sunscreen over Robb’s cheeks and nose at last.

Robb eyes him up and down: his golden anklet is basically shining thanks to the contrast with his bronze skin, his brown eyes looks so warm. He’s just too gorgeous.

“I hate you, you have such a beautiful skin tone” he huffs.

Theon extends a hands to gently stroke Robb’s collarbone, “Mhm-hmm, I don’t have these lovely freckles though. Come on, let’s go”.

He jumps in the pool with a loud splash, drops of water lading all over Robb’s naked body. He better get going as well.

“Oh god this feels good” he almost moans, as he gets into the cold water of the pool.

“Told ya” Theon’s all over him in a second, hands on his waist, pressing him against the edge.

“Shut up”

“Make me”

Robb gladly starts that little make out session that ends with him pushing Theon away before it can turn into more than just a make out session. And that’s how Robb keeps swimming around while Theon sits on the pink flamingo float, saying that he should probably go inside and make them some drinks to drink by the pool, but still refusing to make a move.

“God, I wish I had a pool at my place, I’d swim in there every day” Robb says at some point, cause man Theon was right, swimming really does help you when it’s too hot.

Theon shrugs in response, “It wouldn’t be as relaxing, with all your siblings playing around” he claims, as a matter of fact. As he should, since he’s right.

“Goddamn you’re right” Robb runs a hand through his face: he loves his little siblings, but he’s getting older and he needs his own privacy, right now more than ever. He needs his own place.

It takes Theon a few bites of the inside of his cheek before he manages to talk again, “You can come here anytime you want, you know. Even every day is fine.”

There, these are the kinds of “signals” Robb was talking about: Theon telling him he can come over everyday, Theon telling him he knows were to go if he doesn’t feel like staying at home with all that chaos for one night. He never says it explicitly though.

Today might be the day. If Robb pushes him enough.

“Oh yeah?” he says, feigning curiosity, “What about when you’re at work?”

Theon shrugs, “You do have a spare key”.

“That’s supposed to be for emergency only”.

Theon huffs, “You were literally lying half dead, ass in the air, in my bed because of the weather, that does look like an emergency”.

He’s not looking at him in the eyes, which always happens when he’s the one about to make an important decision or, in this case, offer, that involves both of them as a couple.

“And then... you know, it was good to come back home and find you there.” He’s blushing, “Even if I left for just five minutes, it’s... I like the thought of coming home and find you here. So, you can come here whenever you want”.

Robb finds himself smiling, as he approaches the big flamingo floats and crosses his arms on it.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Theon’s blush deepens, and he tries to hide it by rolling his eyes, “Well, yes there is something but...”

He doesn’t go on. Robb taps his knee, comfortingly.

“I’m listening”

Theon takes a deep, long huff. Runs both his hand through his hair and face. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to do this”.

He’s chuckling nervously, that’s another thing he does when he’s about to take a huge step in his, or their, life.

“Take your time”, Robb squeezes his knee.

“If you already figured that out then you could just give me an answer already”, that makes him laugh, but Robb definitely does not give in so easily.

“I want to hear you say it”, he claims, smiling at him as he’s taking the umpteenth deep breath.

“Okay, damn.” Theon finally looks at him in the eye. And then he says it, “Robb, do you want to move in with me?”

“Yes!”

Robb practically jumps on him as he’s screaming his answer, the pink flamingo flips upside down and their both underwater, Robb’s arms and legs wrapped around Theon. They’re both laughing when they make their way to the surface, Theon actually looks so happy he could cry.

They stop laughing only cause they both decide they should use their mouths to do something else, cause their previous make out session was probably a little too short.

And suddenly, even the pool it’s too hot for Robb, and for Theon too, most likely. But Robb doesn’t care, soon the sun will go down and the air will be a little cooler. And no one’s going to see them as they get it on in the soon-to-be-theirs-and-not-only-just-Theon’s pool.

Maybe Summer is not so bad. 

[another-fantasy-world]

Hiiii! Can you write Alice Cullen x Fem reader in which Alice prepares her a birthday party and they give each other their first kiss? Something like that fluffy and cute. 😻🤧

||AN||: Most definitely! I'm so sorry this is so late. Online Classes are a bitch.

||AN2||: My first request and I'm already fucking it up. Damn.

||AN3||: Thank you Anon for sending in a request! Sorry this was so many days late, I hope you liked it! I really had fun writing this, It’s a nice break from the part 2 of strings!

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Pairing: Alice Cullen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Just Alice being Alice, oh and the start of a cute mortal x vampy relationship

Warnings: ...Fluff, lots of them

Word Count: 1,752 words

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It was around 3 am on a Saturday morning when the local seer Alice Cullen got a vision she was not expecting,At all.

“Why didn’t she tell me?!” Alice shrieked

“Alice?” Jasper stared at Alice in light surprise. He was just reading when Alice suddenly shrieked

“Y/N’s Birthday! It’s today! She didn’t tell me!” Her body shook with excitement and giddiness

And as Jasper stared at his adoptive sister, All he could think about was: “Poor Y/N”

It was your birthday, yes, but you didn’t want anyone to know. Not because the day had some painful or sad memories, but because you were too socially awkward to tell people that it’s your birthday. And besides, you’ve made peace with the fact that most people in your life just forgets your birthday, to the point where you just felt like it was irrelevant and that your birthday did not exist.

But of course, Alice just can’t let that happen, She refused to. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Alice’s bell like voice echoed in your eardrums as you walked into Forks High

“Oh, Hi Alice. Uhm...Uh? Rainy Weather we’re having?” You stuttered.

I mean, How could you not? Sure you’ve been friends with the pixie and her family for quite a while now and that definitely didn’t help the way your heart just stops and just takes off, running into Alice’s Hands. 

Weather? Really Y/N? Out of all the shit you could have said? You spoke with yourself, forgetting about the resident mind reader.

Edward was about to scold Y/N when he was cut off by the bell, and when they looked toward’s Y/N’s direction, she vanished into the sea of hormonal mortal teenagers

“We’ll find her later.” Jasper reassures Alice

And as Jasper said, They did find you later. Humming to yourself while reading a book in the school library. If they weren’t vampires, they could’ve sworn they couldn’t find you. 

You felt eyes on you so you looked up and saw the Cullen siblings there, you smiled and waved them over.

“Hi. Thought you guys were at the Cafeteria?” You ask them, curious as to why they were here

“Were you avoiding us?” Rosalie whispered

Contrary to popular belief, Rosalie was rather fond of you. She never really admitted it but you knew. You just did.

“No, actually, I was just reading a book. I’m not hungry.” you shrugged

“How’d you guys find me anyways?” you asked but then you mentally facepalmed when you realized

“Right. I forgot, I’m sorry.” You sheepishly rubbed your neck

“It’s alright, we were just wondering if you wanna come over later? Esme’s trying this new recipe and she needs you and your sense of taste.” Alice lies.

Well, half-lies, Esme did cook a new recipe, just not for the reason you think.

“Yeah, sure. I’d love to. Who am I riding with?” You ask, packing your things for you last period

“Alice.” They all answered together

“Well that’s not creepy at all.” You teased them before parting ways to go to your last class

Minutes went by fast and soon you found yourself sitting in Alice’s bright yellow car, sweating and nervous. You kept glancing on Alice’s hand that’s resting on the shift lever which caused her to roll her eyes. She grabs your hand, and placed it on the shift lever with her hand on top of yours so she could hold your hand and drive at the same time.

Your eyes widened for a second then you felt your cheeks grow hot.

“U-Uhm” 

“We’re here!” She giggles making you look up and lo and behold, the Cullen house.

“Why are all your lights off?” You ask as Alice intertwines your fingers. 

You noticed how she was barely containing her excitement since she’s shaking and also fidgets alot.

“We decided to let the sun illuminate our home” She grinned at you

“For a vampire, you suck at lying.” You teased her

“That’s not true! Maybe you just know me better than anyone else.” She winked at you

Was she flirting? She was flirting with you? No, that can’t be right? That’s just how Alice is to everyone. Right?

You were about to ask her about it but your thoughts we’re interrupted when a loud pop echoed throughout the room.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!” Everyone in the Cullen Household, including Bella, screams at your face as Emmett releases the Confetti Popper

Your face held visible confusion, How did they know? You made sure not to think about it since you knew about Edward’s abilities. They smirked at your visible confusion and Alice liked it so much she decided to take a picture.

You just nodded and tried to enjoy your birthday. Well, as much as you can with Alice out of your sight. 

“For documentary purposes” She states while grinning and let her adoptive family whisk you away from her.

“If you’re wondering how we know, Alice had a vision of you celebrating you birthday pathetically with only bread and pancakes, so we decided to throw you a party.” Rosalie states as she poured you a glass of grape juice since Esme disliked the thought of you drinking alcohol.

You did admit it to yourself, just a couple months ago, that you indeed have a crush on the pixie-haired vampire. You liked everything about her, her smile, her bell-like voice, her cold comforting embrace, the way she knocks on your door when you miss school, the way she texts you asking if you wanna go shopping with her. Basically, you are completely smitten. And the thought of Alice is enough to make you smile.

But of course, like any other teenager, you decided to just keep your crush in and never think about it again. 

“Y/N, It’s gift time~” Alice suddenly appeared by your side, linking her arm to yours before dragging you away, with Rosalie following you two, barely keeping her smile in.

She pushes you to sit on the couch before shoving gifts into your arms

You cast her a concerned look as you squeezed her hand, knowing she’s having one of her visions.

“That one’s from Bella and Edward!” She says pointing at the medium sized gift.

“This one’s from Rosalie and Emme...” She drifts off, a blank look in her eyes. 

Jasper was the one who continued introducing the gifts to you as he helped you open them, since one of your hands are still intertwined with Alice’s cold fingers as she continued to stare into space.

“Is she okay? Her visions never stretch on this long.” You ask, noticing that 5 minutes have passed.

“She’s fine. I would say she’s enjoying herself.” Edward husks out, a smug smirk settling on his lips

“It’s not fair! How come you could see what she sees! I wanna be a mind reader too!” Emmett whines just as Edward widens his eyes and furiously shakes his head

“I did not need to see that.” He shivered, planting a kiss on Bella’s forehead before speeding off

“What happened?” You asked to no one in particular

“Maybe he saw something he didn’t want to see. He does that to get out of range.” Carlisle explains while he hands you his and Esme’s gift.

“What did you see anyways?” Emmett asked his sister, who’s now staring at you

“You don’t wanna know...” She grinned at Emmett

“...Now come along Y/N. I have to give you my gift.” She pulls your hand as she leads you outside

“Where are we going?” You ask her

“We’re taking a little walk into the woods.” She softly smiles at you and grips you hand

The two of you walked silently, just enjoying and basking in each other’s presence. It looked like Alice was enjoying herself, letting herself go as small rays of sun hit her diamond like skin. You stared at her, willing yourself to look away, but you just can’t. She looks ethereal, the way her golden eyes shine or the way her skin glows or maybe it’s just the way she’s talking to you. Yeah, she’s talking to you and you were barely listening.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You zoned out there.” She waved her free hand infront of your face. 

“You’re beautiful.” You suddenly blurt out. Your eyes widen when your brain finally caught up

“I mean- it’s not like that! Well I do mean it. I mean- You look beautiful like this- I-” You rambled on but stopped when you heard her laugh

“It’s okay, Y/N. Really.” She giggled

“You’re beautiful too.” She smiles before pulling you down to sit beside her under a tree.

You laid your head against hear shoulder, staring at the nest of birds chirping happily.

“I can’t take anymore of this.” She suddenly blurts out, then turns to face you. Her face inches before yours.

“Can I give you your gift?” She whispers

“What?” You whispered back, stunned at how close she is. 

She giggles at you flustered state before cradling your burning face in her cold hands. 

“May I kiss you?” She finally asks, gold eyes meeting yours

“Yeah.” You nodded, in a daze.

Slowly you both leaned in and you were freaking out inside. Was this really happening? Is your crush really about to kiss you? What did you do to deserve an angel?

But all of your worries were silenced when soft, cold lips touched yours in a gentle, surreal way. Leaving your body buzzing with happiness as your heart clenched. Minutes felt like hours, and soon you had to pull away because sadly, humans need air. You stare at Alice’s golden orbs and admired how the stars seemed to swim inside her eyes, or maybe it was just her looking at you in awe. 

I think it’s safe to say that this, was the best birthday gift you could ever have. Even though you had so many amazing gifts like Edward’s Old Classic Book that he wanted you to have, or Rosalie’s Necklace, not even Emmett’s Car Keys. (He restored a car for you) None of them could ever compare to Alice.

The two of you were too busy admiring each other that you don’t notice Emmett handing Edward and Jasper 50 bucks, since he bet on you making the first move and not the other way around, making him whine and pout.

And then suddenly, your birthday seemed really special, to you and your little family. And you just knew, that you’d be this happy for many, many, many years to come. 

[cottoncandyjester]

since Rin and Riot story was lacking some angst to go with it, i made this little fic to make them suffer a lil

tw: slight nsfw + mentions of alcohol + possible ooc + mentions of r@pe

The front door was shut with a loud bang, sloppy feet could be heard as if they were being dragged across the floor. The guy upstairs obviously heard and started skipping down to the living room, where he saw his lover trying to grab onto the wall. He who was trying to put on the best sober performance, raised his hand to try and wave but instead used it to block the sound of a loud burp. They both started laughing and the guy helped the other sit on the sofa and start to take out the excessive clothes he was wearing, the weather outside was much more colder than the one in.

“Oh~ “ the man snickered while taking off the other’s jumper “Are u trying to provoke me Riot?”

He circled his arms around Riot’s shoulders, pulling him close and laying with him.

Riot raised his head and looked at the man in the eye, as if trying to recognize who he was talking to.

“Ehehe” the laugh sounded kind of dead and the man could smell the aroma of alcohol reeking from the other’s throat “Are you Rin??”

“How drunk are you to not recognize your own lover?” He started peppering kisses onto the other’s face but soon stoped when he spoke.

“Well I got lotts a lovers, never know which one is it! eheh”.

The man slurred out his words, dragging the ‘s’ out forcibly with difficulty and not even thinking what was coming out of his mouth.

“Wait, wait” Rin started sitting up pushing Riot’s body off him. “This is a really bad joke, whad’ya mean other lovers?”

His voice sounded panicked, it has gone up a few octaves and the tone was kind of desperate.

“Let’s see, we’ve got; Sam from the club, Anna from the shop down the street,” He moved his head side to side while sticking out a finger each time he said a name “Nick from the candy-“

“Stop!”

A loud cry made the man stop counting and look up to encounter the face of someone who seemed a sentence away from bursting to tears.

Memories from a past time surrounded his mind as he tried to think of his next words.

All adults cheat.

He wanted an honest answer, he wanted to know what the other meant and deep down he hoped it was actually a sick joke he couldn’t get through and that soon enough they’ll go back to kissing and laughing how they were before.

“Are you cheating on me Riot?” it took all his strength not to cry and instead waited with his head hight up.

“Huh?” Riot’s face changed into one of confusion “cheating? we aren’t even dating.”

From all the responses that could have come out of his mouth, it was the one he least expected, he was still processing it when Riot continued.

“In the entire time we’ve been lovey dovey, none of us have said ‘will u be my boyfriend?’ to each other.” Rin was now even more confused than before.

“But, we literally moved in together, we sleep in the same bed-“ Rin’s tone now sounded angry, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening before him.

“I’ve also shared a bed with other people~ heheh” bad time to make sex jokes.

The image of someone else with Riot in the same bed clouded Rin head; hands caressing skin, combing through his hair, kissing his lips, admiring every kind of face Rin has already seen but never seems to get tired of. But worse,the thought of how Riot would be with them; does he also whisper sweet nothings into their ears like he does with him, does he grab their face and bury it with butterfly kisses like he has done to him hundred times or maybe they were also unaware of the other people he has been with.

Your partner will cheat.

No, no, no. Rin started breathing heavily and his vision blurred for a moment, maybe it was the tears, maybe it was everything spinning around him-

“hey hey, are you good there?”

his point of vision focused on a purple stain that covered most of his limited field of vision.

Although he couldn’t see anything the person on front of him could observe the other go into a spiral state of mind which he found difficult to escape from. He started calling out but it was as if he couldn’t hear anything.

Suddenly positions changed and it was him now laying on the sofa, only difference is that he couldn’t move.

“i’ll make you forget them” looking up he could see the face he so much loved, but this time it was as if it was filled with madness, a look on it that screamed obsession and desire. “I’ll show you how much better than any of them i am until im the only thing you can think of.

Rin free hand went down and started unbuttoning Riot’s pant, the latter brain too filled with alcohol and failing to comprehend what was happening until seconds too late.

“yo rin, wait” moving around as much as he could, as if trying to shake Rin off him “please, no ,wait, wait”

He now sounded desperate, he had experienced being held down by Rin and enjoying even the last second of it, all of him under his mercy without complaints. But this was nothing like how it was all those other times.

But Rin couldn’t even listen to what the other was saying, in his mind Riot has had to much freedom and has used it to the point where he crossed a line, an invisible line that the ones that have crossed it beforehand have suffered terrible ends.

But maybe this time it didn’t have to end up like any of those, if he could only liming his freedom, no. If he wanted a person all for himself, no freedom should be given until it is proven that they are responsible enough to use it. Riot had wasted his first and only chance, the fate that awaits him could be the same of worse that all of the other poor souls that made the same mistakes.

there goes the angst! have a nice day <3

WHY WOULD YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS I- 🥺

Arghhh and it’s so well written that I can’t even be upset about my broken heart! Now I have to write fluffy rin stuff to counter this!

Real talk that was really good, like Arghhh I adore people loving the characters so much that they wanna interact with them like this. Makes it so much more fun!

[ereawrites]

Tim Drake x Reader - Envy

The first time he realises it's more than a stupid crush is mid-summer, sweat across the back of his neck, ice in his drink. Bruce has had a tough few weeks, and he's learning to surround himself with the people he cares about in times like these: besides, the weather is gorgeous, a rarity for Gotham, and so Bruce throws an extended family barbecue. 'Family' has always been a little tough to define, for Tim and for many others who share the Wayne name. Some - Dick, Jason, Damian, Cass - feel as though they could be his blood siblings, like they share more than a name and a vigilante identity and a proclivity for violence. Duke, Kon, and Jon have somehow become his annoying cousins who say, let me play the games on your phone, Tim, I know you get the unreleased ones, don't lie, but he loves them all the same.

It's when he sees you talking to Steph, the distant ex who he now considers one of his closest friends, that the depth of his feelings really hits him. You're in a swimsuit - he shouldn't stare, he shouldn't, it's summer and it's hot and it's perfectly normal for you to want to enjoy the pool while you're at the manor - with a cocktail in hand, golden sun catching in your hair, a warm smile lighting up your features, eyes crinkled up at the corners with laughter. Maybe Steph is telling an anecdote about the family; perhaps you're just enjoying this perfect day.

A giggle spills from your lips, shiny with the cherry-flavoured lip balm he knows you use, right as your gaze wanders across the pool and meets Tim's own. Although he's quick to react, transforming his face into a friendly smile and giving you a small wave, he has to fight back a blush from the shame of almost being caught staring. He isn't a creep. He isn't.

"Tim!", you exclaim, as he crosses around the pool and makes his way over to you and Steph. "I didn't know you could even come out in the sun! I hope you're wearing sunscreen."

Steph smirks. "You're all... milky. How long has it been since you left your computer screen?'

Tim feels your eyes drag down over his body, probably only because Steph's just pointed out how pale he is, but he's in a swimsuit too and he can feel your gaze burning hot on every inch of exposed skin. He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. "Funny, both of you. Duke attacked me with a bottle of SPF twenty minutes ago."

You and Steph dissolve into another fit of laughter: clearly the image of his assault is amusing to you. Tim would pretend to be more annoyed than he really is, maybe play it up a little to make you both feel bad, but he knows that you're only in a good mood. Why wouldn't you be? This is the first day you've had fully to yourself in weeks - he makes a point to stay updated on your activities, but he's not a creep, it's normal to take an interest - between your schoolwork and your internship. The hard work has paid off, though, and you've just graduated at the top of your class with a path straight into a major company. He can cut you some slack for now.

"Do either of you two know where I can find Damian?", Steph pipes up suddenly after a sip of her own drink. "I've gotta talk to him."

Tim exaggerates a disgusted tremble, which only earns him a playful slap from Steph and another little giggle from you. "Poor you. He's probably walking the dogs on the other side of the garden, or something - antisocial little shit."

"Damian, antisocial? I haven't heard from you in almost three weeks, Timothy Drake! You hypocrite!", Steph cries. Three weeks? He could've sworn it was only a week ago, at most; he FaceTimed her for a catch up, and she was talking about her crush on Kon's dad, and he'd explained he'd been busy because he'd been helping you write your thesis - but, wait, it hadn't even been the final section, so it must have been longer ago than he thought, because you submitted your final draft five days ago - shit.

Tim sighs. "Sorry, Steph. Actually, sorry to both of you. I... lost track of time, I guess?"

"I'll let you off this time, Drake-", Steph narrows her eyes at him, and tips back the last of her cocktail. "But you better repay me by having another drink ready for me when I come back."

She grins widely, and heads off to find Damian: God knows why she wants to talk to him when he's being so antisocial, but she's always had a way of drawing the young boy out of his shell. Tim chuckles under his breath, and turns to smile sheepishly at you.

"And you? What do I have to do to make you forgive me?", he offers. He's half-teasing, but there's a part of him that feels guilty. It's selfish. He knows it is; he's the one who finds himself wanting to spend so much time with you, not the other way around, and he sees you more than enough. You probably haven't even realised it's been four days since you last spoke to him.

You swirl the last dregs of your drinks thoughtfully, smiling at him - God, your smile is perfect, so soft and warm and kind - and then reach out to pat him on the shoulder. "I think I'm the one who owes you, you know."

Your touch lingers for just a fraction of a second and Tim is forced to suppress a shiver. "Meaning?'

"You've spent most of your free time for months helping me with schoolwork, Timmy! There's no way I would've been able to - actually, no, I would have managed fine without help - but you made it so much easier. I wish I could do more to thank you."

Tim waves away your gratitude with a small smile. "You've done plenty - besides, I enjoyed helping you."

"Why?", you grin, and the previous playfulness you'd exhibited with Steph is beginning to spark back up in your eyes. "Because my area of study interests you so much? Or is it just because I'm your favourite person?'

There are a million ways he could play this. This stupid, summer crush has been eating at him for weeks now, and Tim knows all too well that he's bad with emotions. He has no idea which course of action he should choose: flirt, or tease, or act aloof? Dick would dazzle you with a charming grin and a compliment - Jason would make a ridiculous, suggestive joke that somehow would be flirty instead of creepy - Damian (and Tim feels indescribable shame at the fact that his younger brother would be better at this than him) would brush the teasing off in a way that only drew you in.

"...Spending time with you isn't the worst thing in the world.", Tim settles on, and he mentally kicks himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. God, he isn't a creep, but he's stupid. So stupid. Almost as stupid as he is for developing a crush in the first place.

By some saving grace, your smile only widens. "So I am your favourite person?'

He needs another drink.

"You're in danger of losing that title.", he shrugs, and begins to head for the drinks table that Alfred so thoughtfully set up - you follow without question. "But, well, I wouldn't have spent all that time with you if, you know, I didn't like you. It was actually... kind of fun."

You fix yourself your own cocktail at the same time as him. It must be your favourite, since it's the same as the last one you were drinking, and Tim has to remind himself again that he's not a creep as he wonders how it would feel to kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips. It's just a crush. He's going to get over it.

"Aww - I knew you loved me! Seriously, though - I did really enjoy spending that time with you. Even if you did spend half of it vibrating from caffeine overload, and the other half shouting at me for drinking caffeine myself.", you say.

He shrugs. "It's bad for you." Hypocrisy normally gets to Tim, but he can excuse the bad habit for himself. He can't help but worry about you.

The words that spill from your fruit-stained lips in response - teasing, as always, no more than that, stop it - and the glint in your eye and the little quirk of your mouth upwards; something about it just feels different and it makes his stomach lurch. "You're a bad influence, Timmy. I like it."

Fuck. He sips at his drink, too much vodka for his liking and too little ice, but oh well: he's got bigger things to worry about, like hiding how thickly he swallows. Like pretending he doesn't notice the faint sheen of sweat coating your collarbones, and the dip of your throat, spreading across your shoulders and down, down, dipping to your stomach - he pretends he doesn't notice. It's hot. You're warm. And a bit of sweat shouldn't get to him as much as it does.

"Every person here is a bad influence. You asked me for help, anyway. I'm starting to regret doing it.". That's a blatant lie and you both know it, but Tim doesn't know quite how to react other than with sarcasm. He feels like he's dancing with you every time he speaks to you, skating on paper-thin ice but loving the thrill - don't be so fucking dramatic, it's just a crush, stop it.

You roll your eyes and place your glass down onto the table. "I'm sorry. You're a fantastic influence, and you've made the last few months far more bearable. Thank you. I mean it."

And then you bring one hand to his shoulder, a feather-light touch that still sends him practically careening into ecstasy, and before Tim quite realises what's happening, you're pressing a friendly kiss to his left cheek.

You pull back with a smile. "I'll stop giving you shit for today, but only because I'm so grateful."

You just fucking kissed him. You were barely an inch away from his lips, close enough that he could almost smell your drink on your lips, and it was only a friendly gesture and he knows you do it with everyone and he knows it doesn't mean anything, to you, at least - but, to Tim, you've just punched right through his chest and grabbed his heart and squeezed, tight, snatched the breath right from his lungs and all rational thought from his brain; he wants, so badly, to lean forward and kiss you for real this time. He would, if he had the courage. He would, if he knew you felt the same way.

This is more than a stupid, summer crush.

Tim wants you to kiss him again. He wants to take your hand and parade you around the barbecue on his arm. He would lick the sweat off your fucking collarbones, if you would only let him. Maybe he is a creep. He doesn't care anymore.

Another sip of his drink. He's so fucked.

You don't notice the way his jaw tenses, or the way his breathing quickens; why would you? You're not looking for any kind of reaction, because, for you, it was just a kiss on the cheek, nothing more, nothing worthy of a revelation of his feelings.

"Oh, Tim - look, Kon's coming over!", you nudge him with your elbow, drink back in hand. Tim's too shellshocked to do anything other than follow your gaze, right over to where Kon's walking over to the two of you. He must have been in the pool with Jon and Dick, because his hair is wet and rivulets of water are running down his chest - Tim doesn't think he'll ever really get used to his best friend being so absolutely ripped. He hates it.

Kon fixes you with a beaming grin. "Hey, guys! What's with all the drinking? I though barbecues were for having fun and eating, not an alcohol club."

Tim forces a smirk: Kon will see right through him if he isn't careful, figure out what’s going on. The smile on your face, though, is wide and genuine, almost as big as Kon's.

"Says Aquaman over here.", you giggle. Kon shakes his head, flicking water at you, and you squeal and dash behind Tim.

Droplets of pool water land on Tim's face, filling his nose with the scent of chlorine instead of the scent of your drink, and he mourns the loss. "Careful, Kon. Chlorine can burn our skin right off. You wouldn't want to hurt us, right?"

The other male's eyes widen comically, and he mouths a seriously at Tim, concern evident in his gaze. Having a half-alien best friend has its drawbacks, but it's worth it for the tricks Tim gets to play.

You peek over Tim's shoulder and, upon determining that the coast is clear, step out and pout at him. "Don't tease - Kon, don't listen. He's stringing you along."

Tim scowls at you. "Fuck - you couldn't have played along for a few minutes? Seriously?"

Kon lets out a hearty chuckle, and out of nowhere he reaches his hand out towards you - for a moment, Tim just stares at it, wondering why his best friend is offering his hand to you. Then, you take it, that soft smile on your face, and Kon's pulling you into his chest and you're squeezing his hand and he's kissing you gently on the forehead.

"I knew I could rely on you.", Kon smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. The penny begins to drop for Tim, but it's as if it's in slow motion - he sees the grand reveal coming, but he it doesn't quite sink in just yet.

You turn back to face Tim, keeping your fingers interlaced with Kon's so his arm wraps around your body and settles on your waist, pressing you into his side. "I - uh, sorry, Tim. Kon's still... getting the hang of how much PDA is acceptable."

Oh. Tim should have seen this coming. He should have noticed the signs; they all spring up in his mind now, the way Kon only ever seemed to blush around you, and the way Tim's noticed you checking Kon out during training a few times (he'd not thought much of it, you'd be blind not to), and the way both of you have been so suspiciously quiet about your love lives lately - maybe to protect his feelings, to make him feel like he's not the odd-one-out of the group, to avoid excluding him.

"It's fine,", he lies. "But, well - PDA? I didn't realise you two were... close like that."

Why is he torturing himself by asking for details?

You offer him an apologetic look. "I know you've been really busy, lately - you know, with work, and stuff. I thought it would be best to hold off on telling you about anything going on until you had less on your plate."

You don't say it with pity, like you know that he's been harbouring feelings for you: no, it's just friendly concern, knowing that he would want to know about your new crush and help you navigate it, because Tim is shit with his own feelings but he's got a penchant for helping others with their own.

"Thanks for being considerate. I wouldn't have minded helping you, you know.", Tim says. Another lie. It would have absolutely fucking killed him to help you, but at least he would have seen this coming. At least he could have prepared.

Kon squeezes you into his side, and then releases you so he can pour himself a drink. His bright blue eyes, kind and piercing, prompt Tim to speak again. "And, Kon - come on, buddy. Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Kon chuckles warmly. "I guess I didn't really realise what I was feeling, you know? I mean, I knew that it was different, but I didn't exactly know what it meant... or how to explain it."

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. There's a domino effect in Tim's mind and right now he hates how intelligent he is, wishes he could turn it off for a second if only so that he would stop making deductions about this relationship that's sprung up right under his nose.

"You made the first move, then?", he asks, directed at you, and he can feel his smile starting to slip. There are beads of water on your waist in the wake of Kon's touch.

You let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh - Kon returns to your side, not touching you this time, but still standing in a way that makes it seem as though he's protecting you. "You could put it that way. I mean, nothing's official yet - no one even knows other than you and Steph and Jon, we're still figuring it out. We don't wanna make a big deal, you know?'

Tim doesn't know. He nods anyway. "I'm happy for you both."

The smile on his lips - vodka, ice, fruit - falters just a little too much and he knows Kon notices it. Bright blue eyes soften in worry, his mouth moves to ask if Tim's alright, but Tim just glances back at you; small smile on your lips, golden sun in your hair, happy.

"I'll have to go make sure that Bruce and Jason aren't in danger of blowing us all up in a gas explosion. I'll catch up with you two after.", Tim says, just before Kon can get any words out. He gestures aimlessly in the direction of the barbecue, and you and Kon nod in unison - together, a couple - and Tim throws back the last of his drink before he leaves.

He should be happy for you - he is, in a way, glad that Kon's found someone he can be vulnerable with and you've found someone who makes you happy. He should have been more convincing - he doesn't want either of you to worry. He should have seen this coming. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should never have let himself start feeling anything for you in the first place.

Maybe, Tim thinks as he heads into the cool air of the manor and slips into a quiet room, closing the door behind him - maybe, if you hadn't have kissed him on the cheek, it would've been easier. He could've kept telling himself that this was just a stupid, summer crush, and it would've went away by the time the first snow fell in Gotham, and if worst came to worst he could've called Steph and distracted himself for a few nights. The thought of that, of touching anyone else, makes him feel sick now.

Tim runs his hands through his hair and tugs desperately at the ends. He has no idea how he's meant to come back out to the barbecue, watch Kon kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips, think about Kon's hands on your body - he can't do this. He can't.

[selfships-in-spanish]

Idk random thought but I think it would be cute/hot if canon!verse connor and ona where at home watching a movie and it ended up with them getting handsy with one another. Like, they're snuggled up under blankets and roaming hands lead to some fun times (like some finger fucking/handjob etc.).

Anon I am DEEPLY SORRY for how long it took, but between the creative rut I was in, the months I worked and such... I just had no time and words didn’t want to come to me. 

But I really hope you’re still around and that you enjoy this 6683 word smutty one-shot!

A bazillion thanks to @tinmiss1939 for helping me out with English and ideas when my brain decided to not cooperate <3

Warnings: smut! They get touchy 👀

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Saturday nights ended up being movie nights with Ona’s cozy blanket that her grandmother knit her as a Christmas present. She didn’t want her favourite grandchild being cold in the States, knowing Ona was used to her precious Mediterranean weather. Connor ended up snogging most of the blanket, even if it was big enough for two adults and had wool to spare. 

Ona made sure Connor was familiarised with the classics, checking out the long list of movies she wanted Connor to see, and Ona would also make popcorn and prepare thririum-sodas for Connor so he could enjoy The Experience. Connor was grateful for her efforts and felt her enthusiasm transmit to him too. He kind of regretted watching Terminator 2 because she kept asking him to repeat some lines, but he secretly looked for leather jackets. T-800 was… cool. 

Ona finished the popcorn, setting the bowl on the table next to their soda glasses. She was currently staring at the screen, quite invested in how Yoda trained Luke Skywalker on Dagobah. Connor ventured a look at her, eyes zeroing on her lips absently wrapping around her popcorn-salty fingers. He wondered how her tongue would feel on his own fingers, the texture, the heat. A notification appeared on his HUD, warning him about a slight rise in his core temperature. Connor ignored it. 

Connor decided a distraction from those thoughts would be good, and he went to reach for his own thirium-soda, keeping his eyes on the TV screen. Ona reached to the paper napkins she put there previously, wiping the remaining of the salt and saliva out of her fingers. Once done, she threw the crumpled paper napkin inside the popcorn bowl and rearranged herself on the sofa to find a comfortable position, which ended being by her leaning slightly into Connor. The poor android suppressed embarrassing noises at the fact that Ona was slightly touching his arm with hers. He couldn’t wait to actually feel her in his arms, some day. 

They kept their positions for a while, Connor not daring to move a single centimetre in case Ona realised her proximity and put some distance between them. But rA9, how he wanted to move to—

Ona leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. 

Connor wanted to scream. 

His olfactory sensors could pick up traces from her fruity shampoo and the pressure and heat sensors from his shoulder could feel the warmth from her cheeks and the comfortable weight of her head. Some stray curls tickled his neck. 

Connor wanted to scream. A lot. 

He stayed perfectly still, his breathing program stuttering slightly. Did she know what this meant? To him? Did she know how he longed to feel her against him and to be able to freely touch her? Touch her soft, snow white curls? Connor ignored the movie completely (not that Ona will ever know, he could download it and watch it anytime, as well as film analysis and data in case she wanted to discuss the plot and story points), focusing his attention on this tiny human that managed to make her way into his pump, unknowing of the depth she managed. 

He wanted to lean his head against hers too, he wanted to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her closer to him, he wanted to feel her entire weight on him, he wanted—

Ona nuzzled her head against Connor’s shoulder, shifting to make herself more comfortable. Connor was this close to make shutdown noises. 

Connor tried to analyse this situation: Ona was not uncomfortable with his presence, she was in fact seeking contact, and she was quite prone to seek human touch. She was a hugger, she liked holding his hand whenever she dragged him somewhere or would poke Hank’s chest when she teased him, sometimes even managing to convince Hank into letting her tie his hair in a ponytail. So, it wasn’t new she liked to touch her friends and people she was comfortable with, but the fact that she was touching him… he would never get used to it, or at least anytime soon. 

“Am I too heavy?”

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, slightly lifting her head to turn around just enough to face Connor. RA9, she was beautiful. 

“You are not, detective. My pressure plates and carbon fibre chassis can endure heavy weights and— what?” Ona was smiling at him, fondly, and with an amused spark in her eyes. Connor could get lost in her olive-green gaze. 

“You said detective,” Ona began, a teasing edge in her voice. “We are not in the precinct. Do I have to pull a Hank on you?” Hank was very loud about how he didn’t want to be called Lieutenant every single time his friend, because he wasn’t ready for son yet, talked to him. And Ona wasn’t shy to make herself heard either. 

“That will not be necessary, Miss Boix.” Ona raised a brow. “Ona.”

“That’s better. I like the way you say my name.” Ona got on her previous position, leaning her head on his shoulder again. Connor was too stunned to reply, having her words in a loop. What the hell does he reply to that?

Connor kept staring at the screen without really seeing anything. Half of his HUD was occupied with error notifications and temperature increases, as well as his pump regulator accelerating. The other half was occupied with romantic manoeuvres and tips he could execute to take a further step in their relationship. He decided to try one of the most used and well reviewed tactics: the arm stretching behind the couch. 

On the count of three, because he needed a mental kick from himself to move, Connor slowly nudged his shoulder, making Ona hum. She lifted her head, and Connor almost regretted moving because it meant she was no longer touching him, wasn’t letting her soft cheek press against his perfectly ironed shirt and— but it was for a good reason, he told himself. Connor lifted his arm, trying to ignore Ona’s questioning look, and made as if he stretched it as humans do after having a limb locked on a particular position for too long. 

“You should have told me you were uncomfortable, bobo.” Ona mumbled, shifting into a new position. 

“No!” Ona looked back at him, startled at his outburst. Connor mentally kicked himself. “No, uh. I’m okay. I, uh…” Ona frowned, Connor didn’t stutter. The android decided to finish executing his move. Carefully, he let his arm fall and curl on Ona’s shoulder, making her head rest on it. “I thought you would be more comfortable like this.”

He made it. Connor made it. He executed it perfectly, as expected from an android. 

Ona smiled, an “awww” escaping her lips, being touched by Connor’s concern. She snuggled further, pulling the blanket up and making a cocoon with both of them inside. One of her hands rested on his chest. 

Connor was a wreck. 

For Connor, Ona felt as if she fit right there, in his arms, as if he had been perfectly designed to fit her body. It was a silly thought, but it made Connor giddy. Ona was warm, she was a comfortable weight against his own body, and he quite liked the feeling of it. He could get used to it.

Both human and android resumed watching the sci-fi classic, Connor still processing what just happened. Deviancy was new, deviancy was scary, but with Ona, Hank and the Jericho crew next to him, it was a less frightening journey. Deep in his thoughts, Connor didn’t notice a slight tugging at his tie. Looking down, he saw Ona’s hand tugging at it with a displeased frown.

“Aren’t you suffocating with this?” Connor looked at the perfectly made windsor knot, apparently offending Ona’s standards of ‘comfy movie night’.

“I can’t suffocate–”

“Shush, you know what I mean!” Ona teased him, flicking the silky end. “It looks a little bit constricting for a pajama-ish movie night, don’t you think?” Connor considered her reasoning and she surely had more experience in such matters than him, anyways. Maybe he should listen for once. “C’mon, loosen up a bit! You can relax here.” Connor was the opposite of relaxed, having her so close and being so carefree with her touch. But, maybe he should really give it a shot.

“Well, I suppose I could... try.” 

Ona grinned, not caring to hide how pleased she was that Connor both listened to her and tried to loosen up as she suggested. The twinkle in her eyes spurred Connor into action. He sat up, efficiently undoing the knot. The android folded the tie and left it on top of the table, Ona snorting at the mannerisms he couldn’t shake off. Feeling daring, Connor unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He looked back at her in time to see her roll her eyes and slightly shake her head.

“No no no! That’s not loosening up! We are not in the Victorian period and you are not a victorian lady showing an ankle, bobo!” Ona sat up and inched closer to Connor, not giving him time to react when she grabbed his shirt and unbuttoned a few more buttons, pleased at the hint of a collarbone. Connor’s pump rhythm skyrocketed. “There, much better!”

Connor could count every tiny freckle on her skin, being as close as she was, and he could also see the hint of gold in her beautiful olive green eyes. He wanted to say thank you, but got lost in her gaze. 

Ona patted his chest, smiling once more before shifting into her previous position, but this time much closer with her head propped up fully on his shoulder and her hand resting on his clothed chest. Her weight was comfortable, he liked it, and unconsciously he let his arm fall once again and curl around her, pulling her slightly closer. Ona sighed contentedly, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.

They settled for a comfortable silence, enjoying the movie. Connor liked when Ona giggled at some parts of it, made tiny commentaries and got excited when her favourite scenes came on. He also liked how her curls tickled his now more exposed skin, whenever she laughed or shifted, and the warm weight of her hand on his chest. Connor had to force his artificial breathing program to not stutter or become erratic; she could not suspect of her effect on him in case she moved away at the knowledge of it. Connor thought it was selfish of him, and felt guilty of it, but he really wanted to be a bit selfish sometimes, as both Ona and Hank suggested more than once.

His pressure sensors detected a soft caress on his clothed chest. Connor ventured a look and found Ona still looking attentively at the screen, as if her thumb wasn’t mindlessly brushing Connor’s chest. Connor concentrated on the feel of it, letting himself bask in the glory of her touch. He knew what this kind of gesture meant, Connor did an extensive research on affectionate touches and their meanings, so he really allowed himself to chase that fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, Ona wanted more.

Ona shifted again, getting more comfortable on Connor’s shoulder, and her hand didn’t move from its spot or cease its movement. In fact, it slipped slightly forward, inching near the open shirt. Connor was very aware of the spare centimetres between his naked synthskin and Ona’s hand. She kept caressing his chest with her thumb and Connor didn’t dare to move. Until his sensors picked up the movement and slight pressure of her hand moving forward. 

Connor was never prepared for the feel of her fingers on his chest, warm human skin against his synthskin. He wouldn’t know how to describe it, how wonderful and exhilarating it was, how eager it made him for more. Ona kept brushing her fingers against his chest, appearing completely oblivious of it. His hand unconsciously twitched on her shoulder, as if looking for an outlet to release everything he was bottling up in a false sense of calmness. Connor didn’t know how to proceed; all this was new, the whole world was brand new after deviating and Ona made him feel things he didn’t know the name yet.

But he liked those things. 

Ona was a comfortable weight, and he absolutely loved the tingling feeling her fingers left when they lifted off his skin. It sent the android equivalent of “shivers” down his spine, to every connector, every nook of his body. He wanted more.

A snort escaped Ona’s lips. Connor registered that a funny line happened in the movie, but he completely ignored it in favor of saving in a special folder, that he will never say it is labeled as Ona or that he has it, every stroke of her hand, every curl tickling his skin and adding more input to his already overloaded connectors and sensors.

Ona’s hand ventured its way up, leaving tiny sparks of electrical fire on her trail. Her fingers brushed Connor’s collarbone, softly, as if Ona didn’t want to spook Connor with her boldness. Connor had to bite back a noise he didn’t know he was capable of doing, the sensation of her touch melting him right where he was. But it felt good, so good, to be touched like this. Connor unconsciously bit his lip.

Connor didn’t see the glint in Ona’s eyes. In another situation, like catching a perp, Connor would know that glint meant Ona was determined and even dangerous; once she put her attention on something, she would chase it off like a lioness. Right now, Connor was her prey.

Ona shifted once again, her fingers leaving a trail up his neck. Her fingernails lightly scraped Connor’s synthskin, as if on accident, and he couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped his lips. He was too focused on the pleasant feeling of her touch to notice her leaning into him. Connor would never, ever, be ready for the exhilarating feel of her soft lips kissing his neck so tenderly. His hand squeezed Ona’s shoulder, wanting to melt right there as she kept peppering Connor’s synthskin with tiny butterfly kisses. He was so scared to move, to do something wrong and probably tear Ona from this haze. When her lips brushed his jawline Connor let out a breathy pant.

Connor’s HUD was suddenly invaded by warnings and alerts, programs initiating that he was not aware he had them installed. His temperature was rising and pop-ups kept coming. It was more than obvious that Ona had other plans in mind than watch a movie. Is this what humans really meant with the “Netflix and chill” saying, used a long time ago? But more importantly, Ona wanted to do… intimate things, with him? She didn’t mind he was not human? Given the enthusiasm, no, she didn’t mind at all.

Ona tugged slightly aside the collar of Connor’s shirt, giving her more room and more of Connor’s synthskin to kiss. She couldn’t resist temptation and lightly nibbled where his neck met his shoulder. 

“Ah!” Connor arched his back, closing his eyes at the onslaught of sensations running through his very wires. Ona unglued herself from his body, making Connor want to whine at the lack of her warmth and weight against his body. 

“Shit, sorry.” Ona’s voice seemed panicked for a moment. “Fuck. Joder. Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” 

Connor opened his eyes and tried to focus on her lovely, very flushed face. Her pupils were blown out, almost eating her beautiful green irises, and her lips were redder than usual, something Connor would never get tired from looking at. 

“I went too far, didn’t I?” Ona covered her face in shame with her hands, groaning. 

He wanted to say so much, but even if he had 300 languages at his disposal, Connor was unable to find the words he needed to express himself with.

“I…” could he convey what he felt through his eyes? Would Ona catch the need in them?

“Do you... do you want to go or...?” Guess not. Ona sat back, twisting one of her curls on her finger, something Connor noticed she did when she was nervous. Connor closed his eyes, frustrated. 

This was the chance he wanted after all this time of pining after the tiny human detective that made his pump skip its perfect rhythm.

It was now or never. Connor turned to face her, nervous. He lifted his hands and felt his fingers twitch, as if they exactly knew the meaning behind his intentions. Connor made Ona turn her head to face him, holding her in place. For once, Connor stopped thinking and decided to let his heart act. 

Connor crashed his lips against hers. 

Ona let out a surprised noise, but was happy she didn’t scare Connor off, and let him do as he wanted. His lips were soft, and somehow Ona expected them to be a bit more stiff and cold, but they felt like they belonged there, with hers, warm and pliant. She let Connor take his time, have his sweet first kiss at his pace and liking, chaste and innocent, but even if she wanted to be there like this for the rest of her life, she needed to breathe. 

Breathing through her nose made Connor remember that humans needed oxygen, and that he was depriving his precious detective of it. Embarrassed, Connor parted from her lips with a million sorry’s ready to spill from his own, chastiting himself for not thinking about it. See? This is what happens when he doesn’t think, and now Ona–

Connor found his thoughts halted once again when Ona kissed him back, crawling on his lap to have a better angle. She let her weight rest on him, liking how well her body fit with his. Connor let his hands rest on her waist, not knowing where to put them exactly. Since his mind was occupied right now, he let them wander as they liked. Ona didn’t mind one bit. 

Wanting more, Ona lightly bit Connor’s bottom lip to make him gasp at the feeling and open his mouth. She took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, letting her tongue touch Connor’s as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush with her body. Ona was careful, slow, letting Connor get used to it, verging on sweet. Connor didn’t know if it was in some code ingrained deep in him, or the salty taste of her tongue due to the popcorn she ate before, but it felt divine. 

Thinking about the extensive research Connor did, preparing himself for the day this exact moment happened, he decided to put in motion one of the things he saw and read about. One of his hands went to cup the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her white curls. The other one wrapped itself around her, securing the manoeuvre. He read about the intimacy of kisses, of bodies touching, tongues dancing with each other and the sweet noises that fueled the passion. He also watched videos trying to educate himself on the matter and thinking about him and the detective in such situations, going as far as having reconstructions in his mind that rendered him a blushing mess and his LED a permanent red. He wanted it. He wanted it so much. Nothing he watched compared to the reality of this moment. 

Adding a little bit of pressure, Connor made Ona turn her head more to the side so he could properly deepen the kiss. Ona’s muffled moan made his core temperature rise, and he inhaled fresh air to try to cool his body. His other hand descended from her back, brushing the hem of her sweatpants, and let it rest on her buttock. Connor unconsciously squeezed it, making Ona arch into him and gasp in between sloppy kisses. Ona made a mess of Connor’s neatly styled hair, and honestly he couldn’t give a damn about it. 

Connor felt a change in Ona’s movements, and he frowned, not pleased at having to stop. 

“Wait— Conn— Hmpf!“ Ona abruptly tried to stop the kiss, untangling herself from him and trying to mumble words in between kisses. Connor chased her lips until he felt her fingers stop him. 

Connor felt like ice-cold water fell on him, freezing the poor android on the spot. Did he misread the situation? Did Ona not want this anymore? Did he go too far? Did he—?

“Wait. Connor,” Ona took a deep breath to gather her wits. This had been amazing and she needed more, but she needed to ask him something first. “Wait— no, don’t give me that look, let me explain. I… You did nothing wrong, if that’s what you are asking yourself, quite the contrary. I loved this, I longed for this, but I want to know if you want it too.”

“If I want it too? Kissing you back hasn’t proved it enough to—” Connor didn’t understand. He liked her, he kissed her, maybe he didn’t do it enough to prove his point?

“I don’t want to force anything on you, Connor! I want you to want this as much as I do, but I don’t want to force you or coerce you into wanting this. I don’t want to screw it up. I really, really like you. And I really want to know if you want this—“

Connor reached for her hands, squeezing them in his. 

“You really don’t know how many times I dreamed of this, of you. I always wondered how your lips would feel, or your touch.” Connor felt daring and bold. This was his chance. “I want you, Ona. I want this. And if we don’t go back to this wonderful human thing called kissing, I’ll—“

Ona let out a relieved laugh. Connor tugged her back to him, urged Ona to sit on his lap as she was doing before. Connor held her face in his hands, touching his forehead with hers. 

“This whole... deviant thing is new and scary. Feelings are scary, but… I want to explore them with you. Good and bad.” Connor’s voice was low and soft, as if he didn’t want to break their little bubble.

“Then… let’s take it slow.” 

Ona pressed her lips against Connor’s again, softly, letting the sweetness of the moment dictate the pace they wanted to follow. The movie kept playing in the background, completely forgotten.

Connor let his hands descend Ona’s body, as if he was mapping once again her figure, trying to save it in his memory forever. It always mesmerised Connor how soft and squishy humans could be, and he let himself squeeze his hands against her flesh once again, relishing the thrilling sensation of having his hands so full.

That elicited a low moan from Ona, who in return slowly rocked her hips against Connor’s. The android let out a groan himself, getting a hold of her hips and pushing her down against him again. It felt so good, the pressure sending sparks all over his body, and he couldn't wait to learn more about this wonderful human thing called makeouts. Connor wasn’t stupid, he did his research and he knew humans and sex had a tight relationship, although it wouldn’t be good to generalise since what made humans so unique and beautiful, was the diversity in their race. But still, he wanted to explore it with Ona if she wanted to, and right now he couldn’t be thanking RA9 more than he was right now for letting this happen.

Ona felt like taking things up a notch, and she loved the reaction she got out of Connor the first time –despite her momentum of panic–, so she broke the kiss to brush her lips against his jaw, nuzzling her nose against his neck. Ona felt Connor’s artificial breath stutter in its impeccable rhythm, and was delighted to see how Connor bared his neck to her. Ona wasted no time, peppering the exposed synthskin with slow and wet kisses, while she kept grinding her hips against him. Feeling his excitement only fueled her own more. 

Her hands busied themselves with the remaining buttons of Connor’s shirt, impatient to have his chest and torso fully exposed for her to see and touch. Having the always impeccably dressed android under her, all sense of decorum and propriety gone, gave Ona a rush nothing else could give her. Ona bit her lip once her work was done and could gaze at her prize. He was delightful, beautiful, truly a work of art. Connor’s flushed cheeks and red, shiny lips made her feel herself clench, desperate to have something fill her.

Connor’s irises were engulfed by his pupils, lust coating them, and Ona marveled at how expressive his eyes were. Connor had always been a quick learner, though, and he could see how much Ona needed to be touched right now. His hands reached the hem of her sweatpants again, and this time he didn’t pass the opportunity to get his hands inside them, feeling the soft fabric of her underwear slid under his fingertips. It was Ona’s turn to close her eyes and let out a shaky exhale, eager to see what Connor would do this time. A soft gasp escaped her lips when Connor got his hands inside her underwear too, feeling his fingers on her burning skin. He squeezed the flesh of her buttocks in his hands, feeling the fullness of it. Ona groaned, arching her back to give Connor more leverage. The android sat up while Ona was distracted, pulling her close to his body. Connor decided he wanted to do the same things Ona did to him, to make her feel as good as he did, and now that he had her neck in full display, he was going to take advantage of that.

Kissing her feverish skin was delicious, but Connor knew he was only adding more wood to the fire the moment he bit the juncture of her neck and shoulder, replicating her actions from before. The reaction was instantaneous: Ona’s moan echoed around her living room, her nails digging in Connor’s shoulders as she felt shivers run up and down her body. His tongue soothed the mark he left, kissing it as an apology, although the thought of her having a mark made by him excited Connor more than he expected. And by the looks of it, Ona didn’t mind much. Connor left a trail of kisses up her neck, reaching her jaw, and left another mark right under it.

“Ah!” Connor scored another win for himself, pleased at how the proud and self-assured detective was becoming putty in his hands. “You do not play fair, Connor. You already know one of my weak spots.” Her teasing tone made him smile, hiding it behind a kiss on her shoulder.

“I am the most advanced android detective, after all.” that made Ona laugh, leaning back to see the mirth in Connor’s eyes. His sense of humour improved greatly.

“Aren’t you a cocky android, hm?” Connor winked in response, which made Ona snort. She knew exactly how to wipe off that self-satisfied expression from Connor’s face. 

Connor knew that arched brow and mischievous smile meant trouble, but he was quite eager to find out what Ona was planning to do. She pushed him back on the sofa, his hands sliding out from under her clothes to end up getting a hold of her hips. Connor decided she looked absolutely stunning in her loose maroon t-shirt and slightly pushed down grey sweatpants. Her underwear was peeking out too, and the little visible piece of fabric made him swallow hard.

“Let’s see how cocky are you now, Mr.Detective.”

Ona’s hands descended from Connor’s shoulders to his chest, savoring the feeling of her fingertips grazing the perfectly designed muscles. Ona slowed down when she was close to his belt, teasing the belt loops, tugging them slightly. Connor’s breath hitched when her fingers skimmed over the belt buckle. His eyes were glued to her hands, watching as she undid the buckle and teased the button of his trousers. Connor let out a stuttered breath as Ona’s palm pressed against his zipper, pulled taut by his erection. 

Deciding she wanted to tease him a little bit more, Ona slipped her fingers inside Connor’s trousers, over his underwear, as he did to her before. Connor arched his back off the sofa, groaning at the feeling of Ona’s fingers grasping his clothed cock. Connor’s hands squeezed Ona’s hips, needing something to hold onto as he was blown away by the feeling of her fingers on him.

It felt amazing.

Ona took her hand out much to Connor’s dismay, a soft and breathy “no no no–” escaping his lips, followed by an “–oh” when he saw that Ona was undoing the button of his trousers and pulling the zipper down. 

“Up.” Connor got the message. He lifted his hips so Ona could push down his clothes just enough to free his aching erection from them.

Ona let out a soft moan at the sight of Connor’s cock in full display, rock hard against his belly. She felt herself clench, as if trying not to make more of a mess on her underwear as she was doing now. Ona wanted to do a lot of things right now. She wanted to push her own sweatpants and underwear down and ride him until he burned his vocal module from moaning, she wanted to get on her knees and pleasure him, feel his hands on her head as he guided her to how he liked it best, she wanted to–

They will have time to do all of that. For now, Ona wanted tonight to be for him, to discover what he liked, what it felt like. Ona looked up and was met with hungry and desperate eyes. Connor was on the verge of begging Ona to do anything, because judging by what he felt before, this was going to be even better.

Slowly, Ona trailed her finger from base to tip, pleased at the amount of wetness gathered at the head. Connor stuttered, not tearing his gaze from Ona’s own lustful ones until she did to look down again. He did the same, and the image he found would be forever stored in his memory bank, locked up in a special folder. She was smaller than him, he often marvelled at the difference between them and how her hands were shorter than his, for example, and in this exact moment he couldn’t be more delighted to see how said hand wrapped itself around his cock. He was not ready for when she moved. 

Connor cried out, throwing his head back on the sofa’s headrest. His sensors were going absolutely crazy. He felt as if fire was spreading all over his connections and he wanted more, so much more. Ona’s hand was covered in a sheer blue slick, the fluid helping her motions. The sound of it was downright sinful, and it only turned both human and android more.

Connor’s thirium pump was pounding in his chest, moaning and groaning, his interior fans fighting to keep the body temperature in check. It was getting harder as Ona started squeezing her hand when she reached the head of his cock, way more sensitive than the rest, and Connor’s hips involuntarily thrusted upwards when her other hand renewed her journey on his chest, making sure she traced his collarbone and neck.

One well placed tug made Connor keen, feeling light-headed, and unconsciously pulled Ona to his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Her hand was trapped between them, but she never ceased her movements. Ona’s curls brushed Connor’s cheek, some strands being plastered over her forehead, and Connor could feel her rapid breaths tickling his ear. 

Connor, in a moment of clarity and feeling a tad bold, had an idea. He still doesn’t know how he managed to tear one of his hands apart from Ona’s body, but he had to make Ona feel as good as him. He was no stranger to human anatomy, and even less human genitalia, so he knew what he had to do in Ona’s case. He sneaked a hand inside the front of her sweatpants and underwear, feeling her smooth skin until he found her mound. Connor didn’t stop there, he kept going until his fingers brushed her soaked wet clit. Her hitched breath was music for his audio modules.

“Connor–!” Ona jolted, arching her back and gasping, melting his name into a moan. 

Connor decided, right in that moment, that his name never sounded so divine before. The sensors on his fingers picked up the generous amounts of wetness gathered in them, and Connor had the urge to taste it. But that was something for later, now he had more important matters in his hands. 

Recalling all the information he previously searched, Connor let his fingers be completely soaked in Ona’s juices, knowing it would make the glide smoother. Her folds were soft to his touch, velvety, and Connor loved the feel of it. Her heavy breaths and moans on his ear spurred him to keep going, to trace every inch of her sex, to tease her entrance with his finger pads. Connor’s other hand released his hold on Ona’s hip, moving it up to brush her nape and bury itself on her hair. Ona reacted to his touch, raising her head from Connor’s shoulder to took at him. Her lips were shining bright, reddened from worrying them with her teeth, and Connor felt the urge to kiss them again. 

So he did, swallowing Ona’s moan as Connor got his middle and ring finger inside her, feeling her walls pulse around him, burning. Ona had to stop pumping her hand, needing a moment to gather her wits as Connor moved his fingers in and out of her, his thumb finding Ona’s clit and rubbing it slowly, almost lazily, which drove Ona mad with pleasure. When Ona renewed her movements, gripping Connor’s cock harder, the android groaned and bit Ona’s bottom lip, getting his tongue inside as she did earlier. Connor felt a gush of slick tickle down his hand, and it only excited him more to know it was because of him.

Having his sensors overloaded continuously from the new and pleasurable sensations, Connor had a feeling this would crest soon. He was tempted to cut out the process of it so it would last longer, all night if possible, but he desperately needed to find his release. He felt like a spring fiercely recoiled, ready to snap at any given moment, and Ona’s tiny moans and gasps of his name as she rocked herself on his fingers only catapulted him into it. He had a feeling Ona was close too.

But oh, that felt so good. He doesn’t exactly know what Ona did, but it felt amazing, so Connor let himself be drowned in it, thrusting his hips up at the same time as Ona to pulled down her hand. He was close, so close, so–

“Ona, I’m– I think I’ll– Ah!”

Connor came all over Ona’s hand and his belly with a jerk of his hips, throwing his head back into the sofa as he let the shockwaves consume him whole. In the process, Connor unconsciously pulled on Ona’s hair, needing to grip onto something, and with a brush of his thumb on her clit Ona came right after him, blessing Connor with a mixture of spanish curse words and moans. Connor felt the tight grip on his fingers, her juices coating him even more, and the thought and feel alone made another glob of synthetic cum dribble over her.

Ona let her forehead rest on Connor’s one, panting and trying to regain her breath again. Connor mimicked her, trying to cool his body and helping his frenzied interior fans. When Ona opened her eyes, he found Connor gazing at her with such emotion behind his eyes that made Ona’s heart skip a beat. Connor’s hand was still on Ona’s back of the head, so in a moment where he just let himself follow his heart, Connor pulled Ona in for a sweet, slow kiss. When they parted, it was Ona’s time to gaze at Connor, wondering how beautiful he was right in that instant with his hair disheveled and a blush on his cheeks.

The ending fanfare of the movie credits made her trance break, noticing Connor’s sticky release in her hand beginning to cool. Ona released her hold on Connor’s cock, raising her hand to her face so she could inspect it closer. Connor sheepishly did the same, trying to ignore the squelching sound of his fingers getting out of her and how his own cock twitched in response. Connor knew he could stop the refractory period too, ready to go for another round until he ran out of thirium and had to enter into stasis, but he had a feeling Ona wouldn’t appreciate that. Instead, he inspected Ona’s own cum on his fingers, the fluid sticking to his fingers too. 

Connor swore he didn’t mean to, it was a completely unconscious decision, but he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her. A soft giggle made him look up, his cheeks burning out of shame.

“That is so… you.” Ona’s warm smile made Connor know she was not teasing him or angry. It was genuine. She made a conscious effort to inspect her own fingers, coated with the blueish fluid on them. Connor made a move to stop her, feeling suddenly embarrassed of it, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop her. Ona’s tongue peeked from her mouth, licking one finger. She hummed, followed by a snort when Connor’s voice module did an undignified noise at the sight of it. “I thought it would taste… plastic-ish. It’s actually not bad.”

“...Synthetic ejaculate can have different flavours, if desired.” Connor will never know what triggered that piece of information to appear on his HUD, and what made him say it, but Ona’s open-hearted laugh was worth it.

“Put a sweet, chocolate-ish flavour in, and you will have me all day on my knees and you know it.” Ona turned around just enough to grab tissues from the coffee table, wiping her hand clean, as if she had just commented on the weather. 

Connor was suddenly assaulted by reconstructions of what Ona just said, rendering him to a violently spinning red LED and his blush program glitching, making his cheeks reach a bluish glow. Ona hastily threw aside the used tissue, not caring where it went, when he noticed Connor’s state.

“Oh my God! Connor, are you okay?” Ona held Connor’s face in her hands, desperately searching for an answer in his eyes. Connor looked at her, his LED reverting back into yellow.

“There’s vanilla flavour, strawberry flavour, milk chocolate with caramel flavour–” Ona snorted, bumping her forehead with his.

“You oaf, I was worried!” Connor raised his brow as if questioning her. If he was being cocky again it meant he was okay and back to normal. Ona guilty looked to the side.“...milk chocolate with caramel.”

Connor smiled. Ona shook her head, smiling too, as she turned around again to pick up more tissues for Connor.

“Let’s clean you up.” Connor kept smiling, feeling dazed with happiness, as he let Ona do as she pleased. Once clean, Connor pushed and fastened his trousers and belt, as Ona mourningly buttoned his shirt.

Ona stood up once finished, her face twisting into a grimace as she felt the cold and sticky mess in her panties. She looked down, trying not to worsen it by moving too much.

“...And I need new underwear.”

Connor stood up with her, eagerness coating his movements and voice.

“Let me help you with that.”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty Eight

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

March 14th, 1998

Emile was tired. He had a long day today, and it just felt like it was getting longer when he realized that he had to visit family. It was only one set of his aunts and uncles, and they only had two kids, but he still felt exhausted and not up to much.

That changed the second Emile caught sight of his two younger cousins, though. Their eyes lit up and he felt a small burst of happy energy at being the source of that excitement. He was able to play with them while the adults talked, and Emile laughed as the three of them danced around the living room. He knew he would be dead on his feet later tonight, but that was the price you paid sometimes for family. And it was totally worth it.

  July 4th, 2001

Emile was sitting in the park’s field on their picnic blanket, fondly watching a small child running around, chasing a butterfly. Remy nudged Emile’s foot, capturing his attention. “What has you so smiley?” Remy asked.

“The kid over there,” Emile said, pointing. “Kinda reminds me of some of my younger cousins. Makes me think about family, but in a good way.”

“You can think about family in a good way?” Remy asked dubiously.

“Yeah, I can,” Emile sighed. “It’s not often that I really give it thought, though.”

Remy shrugged. “Why? I get you don’t like my family, but you don’t think about yours often?”

Emile shrugged. “Well, there’s always the issue of...say...extended family asking about my love life,” he said. “Some of them are accepting and others...I don’t know. They certainly don’t come across that way. And then there’s my grandfather to worry about.”

“He’s not accepting?” Remy asked. “Someone in your family is homophobic?”

“Yep,” Emile said, voice strained. “I’ve told him about girlfriends, before, but never about my boyfriends. My parents knew, of course, but not him. He just...doesn’t understand, and doesn’t want to make the effort to understand, at least not right now.”

Remy winced. “What about that kid had you smiling, though? Why were you thinking of family in a good way?” he asked, redirecting the topic back to their original conversation before Emile could brood for too long. A fact which Emile appreciated.

“Well, it makes me think about how things were when I was younger,” Emile said. “And it takes me back to when my cousins were really little and I got to help take care of them. And because my brain is weird and makes random leaps sometimes...”

“What?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged, looking away. “Makes me think of having kids of my own, some day. Whether or not that’s something that actually happens. And I’m not like... seriously considering anything. I was never one who really gave a family much thought as a kid, it was never something I wanted outright. But sometimes, in my head, where there’s no lasting consequences if I screw up, I imagine there’s a world out there where I do have kids, biologically or not, and I get to...be a good influence, and make sure they know they’re cared for emotionally and physically, and...I don’t know. It’s not something I seriously want, and I would never ask you to raise a kid with me, especially not over this conversation, or any like it. It’s just...a fun mental exercise, sort of.”

Remy seemed to consider this a moment. “You know, I think you should donate to that sperm bank like you wanted to a while ago.”

“What? Why?” Emile asked, mind effectively doing a record scratch.

“I mean, it’s not like you’re going to be the one doing the parenting, but you get to help that family actually exist. That’s pretty cool, and if you really want to help families become families, well, that’s a pretty noble cause, I’d say. And you seem to have family on the brain a lot lately. It could...I don’t know, it’s possible that it could quiet that part of your brain when it starts to nag you about your own family,” Remy said with a shrug.

Emile sighed. “I mean...the reason it’s so hard is because I do want a family, just a little bit. Not enough to do anything about it, but I’d like to be a part of someone’s life like that. I’m not sure if donating to a sperm bank would offer that same satisfaction.”

Remy shrugged. “Look, you can do it or not, but I say you should give it a go. Worst comes to worst, no one uses your donation, you know? You could do it anonymously, no one would have to know it was you who was the father.”

Emile shook his head. “No, if I were going to donate I’d have my donation be Open ID. I just...I don’t know, if there were kids out there, I feel like it would be only fair for them to know who I was. To be able to ask about medical history in the event of some emergency or another. Even if they tried to seek me out, just to know who I was? That would be okay. I wouldn’t mind keeping in contact with a kid who I helped conceive by like, e-mail or what-have-you. Anonymous donation...just isn’t an option I’d like.”

“Oh,” Remy said.

“Does that change your opinion of it?” Emile asked.

Remy shook his head. “No, if you want to do it, you should do it. Not being anonymous just means we might have an extra person to send Christmas cards to in eighteen years.”

Emile laughed. “Can you imagine if the parents of that poor kid were homophobic? They’d have an aneurysm!”

Remy practically cackled and a few people nearby sent them odd looks. “Oh, man! There’s no laws saying you can’t donate if you’re gay or bi, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Emile said. “So assuming we’re still together in eighteen years, we’d have some very interesting Christmas cards to send.”

Remy sighed, a smile still on his face. “I like to think we’d still be together in eighteen years. Maybe twenty.”

“Yeah?” Emile asked.

“Yeah,” Remy said. “I mean, if we’re not it would have to be for a real good reason, because I can’t see myself... not enjoying your company.”

Emile blinked. He knew that Remy loved him, they had said as much to each other countless times by now. But every once in a while Remy still said things that took Emile’s breath away. Emile took one of his hands and intertwined it with Remy’s, giving him a smile. He wasn’t sure if Remy even understood how huge this was to Emile. Remy wasn’t just talking about his feelings openly, but he was talking about them casually. Like he was talking about the weather, or saying that Emile’s new glasses made him look nerdier than he already did. It was something that Emile saw as amazing progress. “I love you too, Rem,” Emile said softly.

Remy offered him a smile that was fond and full of softness, and again it took Emile’s breath away for a few seconds. He would do anything to see that smile more, and it made him ecstatic to know that he could do that just by saying how he honestly felt about Remy. His boyfriend.

The sun started to set as Emile and Remy brought out their dinner and began to eat. They had set up their picnic blanket in prime territory to watch the fireworks later tonight. And for now, they were just going to enjoy each others’ company. “So, are you going to do it?” Remy asked.

“May as well,” Emile said with a shrug. “I mean, like you said. Worst comes to worst no one uses my sample. And it’s just one appointment, and then it’s over, and I don’t have to deal with as many nagging thoughts as I otherwise would.”

“Because instinct will know that you helped produce offspring with your DNA and your genetic line gets passed on, and everything works out,” Remy teased.

“Something like that,” Emile laughed.

They returned to eating and soon it was dusk. “Fireworks should be starting soon,” Remy said idly.

Emile felt like he was vibrating in his excitement. “I know. Fireworks are super cool, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “Sometimes they’re a little loud, but they’re very pretty.”

Emile gasped dramatically. “You, Remy Picani, appreciating something that’s pretty?! Wow! I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Shut up!” Remy laughed. “I can admire things that are pretty, and I do it often enough that it’s not unusual! I just usually don’t verbalize it!”

“Oh yeah?” Emile challenged. “List five things around the park that are pretty, right now!”

Remy looked around. “The butterflies, the flowers, the clouds, the sunset in general, really, and a certain man I happen to be sharing a blanket with at the moment.”

Emile short-circuited and made a strangled noise of surprise. “Shut up!” he said, but he was laughing as he did it.

“Not a chance,” Remy said. He dotted kisses on Emile’s cheek. “I have the prettiest, most beautiful boyfriend in the world, and he deserves to know it.”

“Remy!” Emile squealed, laughing. “Stop! I’m not pretty!”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Remy said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “And therefore, I can call you pretty as I please. Because to me, there’s no one prettier.”

Emile was blushing, cheeks as hot as a forest fire by this point. “You’re the worst,” he groaned into his hands.

“If by the worst, you mean the worst at letting you think you’re anything but exceptional, then I agree,” Remy said, continuing to pepper Emile’s face with kisses as he removed Emile’s hands.

“Remy!” Emile squawked. “Come on! You’re not playing fair!”

“Well, I’m not playing,” Remy said. “I’m dead serious about this.”

Emile blushed harder, a fact which he had previously thought impossible. “You’re a sap,” he said, a desperate attempt to get Remy to pay attention to something other than Emile.

“Maybe,” Remy allowed. “But I’m your sap. You’re stuck with me. Forever. And nothing you can say or do will change my mind.”

“Really?” Emile asked, surprise coloring his words.

“Emile, I seriously doubt there could ever be a time in my life where you’re not so much as my friend anymore. And I don’t intend on breaking up with you. Like, if you were the one to stop this,” Remy gestured vaguely in the air, “Then I wouldn’t be able to stop you, and I’d respect your decision. But until that hypothetical day comes to pass, if it ever does...I’m here with you. There’s no place I’d rather be, in complete honesty.”

“I...” Emile was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say.” There was a lump in his throat and his eyes were getting hot. Remy was being so open about loving Emile, and it was in public, where people who might disapprove could see them. Remy was taking that risk, and...and by the look in Remy’s eyes, he knew and he didn’t care. He loved Emile that much. “...I love you,” Emile whispered.

Remy smiled good-naturedly, and pulled Emile into his arms for a hug. “I love you too,” he said.

Emile turned in Remy’s arms to kiss him, and the second their lips met, the first firework of the night went off in the sky. Both of them jumped before dissolving into laughter. “Wow, our love really does set off fireworks! Just like in the movies!” Emile laughed.

Remy giggled. “That’s pretty cool,” he said. “I’ve never had a relationship that’s set off fireworks before.”

Another boom reverberated through the park and the two turned to look at the falling red sparkles. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Emile asked.

Remy grinned, eyes fixated on the sky. “Almost as beautiful as you, Emile.”

“Stop,” Emile whined.

“Never,” Remy vowed.

They stayed in the park, watching the fireworks go off, content to just be with each other for a while. After the fireworks ended with about twenty consecutive fireworks going off at once, and people were packing up their stuff, Remy and Emile still stayed on the blanket. “I love little domestic moments,” Emile said.

“Yeah, they are pretty nice,” Remy agreed.

“We should make an effort to do more stuff like this,” Emile said. “Going out on dates is fun and all, but so is cooking together. Having pillow fights. Cuddling. It’s super sweet.”

“Oddly enough, I don’t mind that kind of sweetness,” Remy idly mused.

“No?” Emile asked.

Remy hummed in thought, before placing a peck on Emile’s lips. “No. Not when it’s with you, at any rate. You seem to make every moment special. You help me see the good of the little things in life.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Emile said. “The last thing I want is for you to be miserable because anything good that comes your way gets immediately dismissed.”

“I had a bad habit of doing that, yeah,” Remy agreed. He smirked at Emile. “But then a beautiful, good man came into my life and turned that around.”

Emile squeaked. “Stop it!” he protested, but he was grinning ear to ear.

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part five Word count: ±4250 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part five summary: Sam tries to find out more about Zoë’s past, but when he meets up with his brother again, he never thought he would have to reveal his own. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​ and @deanwanddamons​​. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     Paragould, Arkansas      June 16th, 2005 - Five months ago

     A shrill whistle reverberates over the training fields. Children stop in their tracks and run back to the teacher, bursting with energy.      “Alright! Good job, everyone! Red team wins!”            A woman, probably around her thirties, smiles as she is surrounded by her class. Like they always do after practice, they sit down on the grass in a circle, looking up at their teacher, waiting for her to give the cue to head off to the dressing rooms. The sun shines brightly and stands high in the blue sky, shining down on them. Birds chirp, hopping from branch to branch in the trees surrounding the fields, while the American flag flutters from the frontage of a school building.

     “Looking forward to summer break?” the teacher asks, laughing when her question is answered with loud enthusiastic cheer.      “Aren’t you even going to miss me?” she pouts.      “We’ll miss you, Mrs. Dawlson,” one of the little boys speaks up.      More kids agree with him, causing their supervisor to smile, humbled.      “I’m sure you will do fine at Oak Grove, Roy. You’re all going to middle school! Fifth graders already, my boys and girls are all grown up.” She observes her class, pride in her kind eyes. “I tell you what. Next Friday we are going to play lots of fun games, alright?”      The faces of the children light up and they happily beam at each other, already excited for next practice.      Their teacher lets them off the hook. “Be safe, off you go!”

     All get up and bolt for the dressing rooms, challenging each other to get there first. Some squeal and laugh as they play tag along the way. All but one. The joy disappears from Mrs. Dawlson’s face as she watches one of the girls, who slowly strolls back to school. Despite the warm weather, she’s wearing a long sleeved shirt and blue sweatpants.      Mrs. Dawlson sighs, clearly caring too much about her children to let this slip. “Laura?”      The little girl looks over her shoulder, her expression blank. She carries her long, chestnut hair in two braids, her bangs cover her eyes.      “Could you come here for a second?” Mrs. Dawlson asks, gently.

      Laura drags her feet with her head hanging down, like a dog who has done something wrong and is now called back to get punished. The teacher sits down on her heels to level with the little girl, making sure not to talk down to her. But Laura doesn’t look her in the eye and keeps staring at her feet.      “How are you doing, Laura?” she wonders, her voice friendly and calm.      “I’m fine, Mrs. Dawlson,” she replies, politely.      The coach hesitates for a moment, figuring out the best way to approach her pupil.      “Well, alright. But if there is anything you want to talk about, let me know, okay?”

      The young girl looks up and Mrs. Dawlson startles at what she sees. She can detect a dark bruise through her bangs, right above her left eyebrow. With her fingers, she carefully sweeps away Laura’s hair and reveals the injury underneath. Scared, the student backs out and turns her head away. Quickly, but without hurting her, Mrs. Dawlson grabs Laura’s wrist and pulls up her sleeve. What she sees then, would make everyone’s stomach turn; her entire arm is bruised.          “How did you get these?” Laura’s teacher questions, a bit firmer than before.      “I fell,” she lies.      “Tell the truth, Laura. Who did this to you? It’s alright,” Mrs. Dawlson tries to convince her.      “No one! Please don’t tell anyone!” The little ten year old begs as she pulls herself loose.      “It’s safe with me. I promise,” her teacher assures.      “No, I - I can’t,” Laura stammers.

     By now she’s crying. Big tears stream down her porcelain cheeks. It seems like she is going to cave in, but suddenly she turns around and makes a run for it. Mrs. Dawlson lets her go and straightens her back. With a sigh, the teacher places her hands on her waist and watches the girl leave the field.      Disapproving, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, swallowing thickly. “Poor girl…” she whispers to herself.

     Paragould, Arkansas      November 26th, 2005 - Present day

     It’s still early morning when Sam pulls over at 2310 West Kings highway and enters the parking lot of the Ramada Inn. He left Zoë still asleep; apparently she really needed her rest. Last night, he wondered what was going on in her head and what she’s been through, as he went over the database she developed during her years of hunting. He could tell from the file properties that she didn’t just accidentally stumble on a ghost and got curious. He doesn't know the entire story behind her possession, but something happened. Something bad.

     The first file was added over four years ago, containing information on a Diligo Vesco. ‘Diligo’ can be translated to ‘love’ in Latin, ‘Vesco’ meaning ‘eater’ in that same ancient language. A demon who served directly under the devil himself in the early years, one of Lucifer’s creations, if you believe the lore. Not your ‘casual’ black eyed rat from hell, like the ones Dad dealt with every so often. No, this one was much worse.

     The name fits, because that’s exactly what it does; it literally feeds on love, by possessing someone and slaughtering the host’s loved ones. The demon doesn’t just kill them, though. A Diligo Vesco is one of the most vicious and sadistic of its kind. It’s been reported to take its sweet time torturing the victims, before actually killing them. Sam found case reports in Zoë’s database that described the gory details. Limbs severed, organs ripped from bodies, missing parts of the brain. Arson, waterboarding, skinning, mutilation. Ways of torture he had never seen before. One of them was called Blood Eagle, where the demon would cut open its victim’s back, break all the ribs and twist them upwards, giving the poor soul ‘wings’.

     Since the beginning of time, these creatures are responsible for unexplainable and brutal murders within families and close circles. The Ade family murders in 1874, where the children were cut up and set on fire. The Green Family massacre in 1994, in which the mother of three slaughtered her children with an axe. These smart monsters play the game well, framing the vessel for the blood that the demon sheds.

     The Diligo Vesco is only able to show its true face when the host is physically close to someone he or she loves. Until that time it holds on like a leech. An exorcism would be the only way to spare the life of the possessed, but this is where it gets tricky; the demon can only be exorcised when it manifests. By the time a hunter picks up its scent, it is usually too late. Most of the time the damage is done and the thing is long gone. When it does come to driving out the demon, the host nor the exorcist rarely survive. Killing these demons is close to impossible without harming the person it's controlling. Yet this is what his father and Dean must have accomplished, since Zoë is still walking amongst them.

     Curiously, Sam had compared Zoë’s online database with his father’s journal, but the case happened to take place in a period of time from which a couple of pages of the book are missing. Zoë does not elaborate on the details of her own case either, but whatever happened, it triggered her to become one of the best hunters in the country. The list of creatures that she slayed after her possession is impressive. Zoë ended more supernatural spawn from Hell in the past four years than some hunters manage to kill in a lifetime.

     Still pondering over this newfound information, Sam gets out of his brother’s car. On his way over to Paragould, he and Dean talked about this new Sullivan girl. The youngest Winchester couldn't help but to be curious about her motives, her past. Dean doesn’t get why Sam even gives a damn. He said it’s none of their business and if Zoë doesn’t wanna share, why dig further and risk getting your eyes scratched out?

     While rummaging in his pocket, he enters the motel lobby and makes a left turn to the main corridor. The red carpet underneath his feet is stained and the wallpaper has come off at the corners, a sheer contrast to the Hampton Inn, where Zoë is staying. Here, the coffee machine in the hall spits out the most horrendous brew, they need a flashlight in the bathroom because the light is broken and the air conditioning sounds like a generator, but doesn’t actually do jack shit. But then again, he has a feeling that not even a freezer could have cooled down the rabbits inside of room 106.

     Just as he takes out his room key, he sees that he won’t need them; Dean is already at the door with the blonde he picked up the night before.

     “Call me,” she tells him, as she saves her number in his phone.      “I sure will,” Dean smirks.      They kiss once more. Both can barely keep their eyes off each other as the young lady parades away in last night’s clothes with a flustered grin on her face. 

     Sam passes her in the hallway and looks over his shoulder. He can see where Dean’s coming from; she’s beautiful. Dean has spotted the look upon his brother’s face, though.      “Forget it, tiger. She’s mine.”      “Had a good night?” Sam chuckles, hoping he will skip the details.      Dean yawns and saunters back into the room. “Did I have a good night? I barely got a chance to sleep.”      “Okay, already more than I wanted to know,” Sam cuts off, before Dean spills the goods.

     He follows his older sibling into the room, finding one bed untouched and the other a complete mess. An empty bottle of Sauvignon lays on the ground, while a dirty glass still stands on the cabinet next to a half a bottle of Jack Daniels. The window is wide open, the heavy curtains wave in the wind slightly, but despite the fresh air, the room still smells like sex. Seems like they had one hell of a party.

     “Let’s get going,” Sam announces.      Dean looks aside at his little brother, frowning. Since when is Sam the one who gives the orders?      “Already?” he replies, bummed, clearly hoping for a rendezvous.      “Yeah, I found our stuff,” Sam informs.      “Ah, so you found Sullivan,” Dean chuckless, raising his eyebrows.

     Sam huffs and rolls his eyes, but his older brother doesn’t pay attention to it, tipping over an empty bag which once contained potato crisps. Apparently he’s hungry.      “Yeah. It didn’t take me long to find her. Her bike was parked outside a hotel. She’s working a case,” Sam explains, acting casual, but Dean can’t help himself.      “If it didn’t take you long to find our shit, then where were you all night?”      Reluctantly, Sam sighs before he answers. No way in hell his brother is going to respond maturely to what he is about to say.  “I spent the night at her place.”      Dean laughs out loud, throwing his head back. “I knew it! You cheeky bastard!”      “Nothing happened, Dean,” Sam states with a tone.      “Oh, come on. Not even a little smooch?” he teases, but Sam denies.      “A look then? You know, one of those cheesy Notebook moments.”      But again, Dean’s brother shakes his head, although he can’t resist to comment on that. “You saw The Notebook?”      “Well... no. So I’ve heard,” the oldest corrects uncomfortably, quick to turn the conversation back around. “But let me get this straight; absolutely nothing happened?”      “That’s what I said,” Sam confirms.

     After opening a pizza box that - to Dean’s disappointment - is empty, he stops searching for food. Then he turns to Sam, who is clearly annoyed with the interrogation.      “Are your eyes fucked up?” Dean wonders in disbelief. “Honestly, I'm a little disappointed. I thought I taught you better than that. How can you spend the night with a woman like that without making a move?”      “That’s it. I’ve had it.”      Sam squares his shoulders and stares at Dean, furiously. His brother pissed him off, but Dean can hide his victorious grin. For weeks he has tried to push Sam over the edge, to trigger him to let it out. To yell, cry, take a swing at him if that was what his little brother needed to do to feel better. Anything to get him out of the dark hole in which he’s currently hiding up.

     “Did it ever occur to you that I might feel terribly guilty if I would just head off with some girl for a one night stand like you always do?!” the youngest of the siblings exclaims.      “I have no idea, Sam. You never talk to me about it, so how the fuck am I supposed to know how you feel?” Dean bounces back.

     “And you think it’s strange that I don't talk about what happened?! My girlfriend was murdered, Dean! I was going to ask her to marry me, for fuck’s sake!” He pauses, growing even more furious. “I had everything planned out! Law school, Jess, everything!”      By now Sam paces from one side of the room to the other, restless and upset.

     “You were gonna marry her, really? Sam, with your background the chances of the American dream coming true was close to zero. You should’ve known that,” his brother reminds him.      “I was just trying to move on, I was trying to be happy! And you know what? I actually was!” Sam halts in front of Dean and raises his voice even more. “I loved her, Dean! I still do and I can’t get her out of my fucking mind! She died because of me!”      Dean looks at his younger sibling, sympathetically. “Don’t do that to yourself, man. It’s not your fault she’s dead.”      “It is. I didn’t warn her about the danger out there!I lied to her--”

      Sam intends to ramble on, but Dean intervenes.      “- What makes you think that telling her the truth would have made a difference? Whatever killed Jessica, wasn’t just some ghost, Sam. Hey, listen to me.” The older brother grabs Sam’s shoulder and forces him to look down into his eyes. “That same thing killed Mom, and probably a whole bunch of other people. It’s powerful, and if Dad has trouble stopping it, no offence, but you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

     “I’m not talking about stopping him at that moment, Dean!” Sam pulls himself loose and turns away.      An unpleasant silence fills the room as Dean waits for a follow up, but his brother doesn’t continue.      “What then, Sam? Talk to me,” he pleads.

     Again that silence. The younger Winchester doesn’t move and stares at the wall with his hands placed on his waist. He swallows apprehensively, his jaw tensed. Then Sam sighs and turns around for Dean to see his eyes glister.      “I could have prevented it,” Sam claims, his voice soft and broken now.      Dean observes him, thinking through his next question first before he shoots. He has a feeling there’s more to this than just guilt.      “How?”      Sam bites his lip and averts his gaze. Then, after a month of silence, Sam finally opens up to his brother.      “I dreamed of Jessica’s death, days before it happened.”

     Complete silence. While the air grows even thicker with tension, Dean stares at his brother, his eyes confused and stunned. Taken aback, he opens his mouth in order to respond, but can’t find the words he’s looking for.      “Y-you mean, as in… a vision or something?” he returns disbelieving, chuckling nervously.      Sam scoffs as he moves away, ready to leave this conversation already; he knew Dean would respond like this. “Never mind.”      But Dean doesn’t let it go. “You’re telling me that you actually saw Jess die, like she did, in a dream?”      His younger brother halts, turns back slightly and eventually nods his head. “I didn't think anything of it at first. I figured it was just a bad dream. Until…”

     He doesn't need to finish his sentence. Dean says nothing, instead he just stares at Sam. Several thoughts rage through his head. What the hell is going on with him? What the hell could this mean? Why the fuck didn’t he tell me this before? The sheer thought that something might be terribly wrong with his little brother, has his stomach in knots. This isn’t ordinary. In fact, this is as far from ordinary as a human can get. He is stunned and overwhelmed by the idea, but his own brother might actually be something a hunter would keep a close eye on.

     Sam swallows thickly, feeling exposed and embarrassed. “You’re looking at me as if you’re about to empty a bottle of holy water over my head.”      For a moment Dean glares at the flask on the table.      “Dude, you’re seriously considering?!” Sam shouts, frustrated.      “You wanna tell me that this is normal, Sam?!” Dean counters, raising his voice.      Sam shakes his head and turns around, already regretting that he brought it up.      “Why didn’t you tell me before?” the older brother questions.      “I don’t know,” Sam mutters, staring at the ground.      “You don’t know? You’re psychic, right?” Dean scoffs.

     The youngest of the Winchester boys grinds his teeth, but doesn’t say a word. The tension between the two of them is heavy and familiar; it feels the same as when they had the argument before Sam took off for college.

      “Anything else I should know, Sam?” Dean pressures, clearly worked up over this. “I don’t know, maybe you can stop bullets or run super fast.”      Dean steps to the other side of the room with his arms folded in front of his chest, making fun of the situation because he has no idea how else to deal with it.      Sam eyes him, following his movements. “Funny,” he snaps. “Mature, too.”      “It would explain a lot of things. The ‘S’ stands for ‘Sam’ and there’s your love for tights,” Dean provokes.      “Stop it,” Sam hisses, but Dean isn’t done.      “Can you fly? ‘Cause that would be fucking awesome.”      “Dean!” Sam warns mad.      “What?! Either I joke about it or I lose my fucking cool! Take your pick,” Dean returns.      “One way or the other, it doesn’t help!” the youngest exclaims. “You see? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you, Dean! I knew you would give me this kind of shit!”      “What did you expect? You kept this from me for over a month!” Dean brings to mind, hurt seeping past the words.      “I don’t have to tell you everything I go through. I don’t owe you that,” Sam makes clear, venom in his tone.      “And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dean turns to him, pointing his finger as he approaches his brother. “I am your fucking brother, Sam! So yes, you do owe me that!”

     Dean stares straight into Sam’s eyes, his head tilted slightly backwards to look at his younger yet taller brother. Sam can see his words struck a nerve.      “We used to tell each other everything. What happened to that?” Dean wonders.      “It left, along with me.”

     Sam breaks eye contact and walks past him. As Sam bumps his shoulder against his, Dean shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw.      “I know you’re pretty damn good at it, but don’t you walk away from me,” he threatens, not brave enough to turn around to watch Sam leave.      “Why wouldn’t I?” Sam tests, not impressed by Dean’s stern words.      “Because this is not something you can walk away from! When will that finally come to you? When you’re in, you’re in. There’s no way back when you know about the things in the shadows, especially not when you have fucking visions about it!”       Now Dean does turn to face Sam, who scoffs at the message. “So what then, huh?! You’re planning to hunt until you’re in a wheelchair?”       “No, I’m planning to hunt until I finish the job Dad left for us to do and along the way, I will kill as many sons of bitches as I possibly can. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.” He pauses, staring at his brother with fiery eyes. “I intend to prevent people from going through the same shit we’ve had to endure, and if I don’t succeed, I’ll die trying.”

     This time, Sam doesn’t have a counter ready. No stubborn remark, no smart answer, just silence. He’s not sure what to say to that. He has to admit, he respects Dean for his morals, his honor. It gets him thinking, too. About his own future, his own life. Because deep down he knows Dean is right. He can run from the supernatural all he wants, but it will continue to follow him, always and everywhere.

     “Why should we be the one to sacrifice everything?” Sam questions, less hostile than before.      “I don’t know,” Dean sighs. “It’s just the way it is. So we either feel sorry for ourselves, or we suck it up.”

     Sam nods, admitting, but not at all okay with the inevitable. He can never have the life he wishes for. There will always be more to hunt, more to kill; this is a never ending story. And even if he does turn his back on the business for good, will he be able to forget about Jessica’s death? Can he move on without scanning every street, expecting something out of the ordinary around every corner? Right now, actually getting his law degree seems impossible, but then again, maybe he was being naïve when he went to Stanford in the first place.

     “Shall we go?” Sam suggests.      Dean looks up at the defeated man. The peace has returned, but brought a sense of devastation along as well. Accepting his fate is hard on Sam, he understands that. So Dean decides they had enough arguments for one morning and lets it go. He got Sam to talk to him; one step at a time.      “Can’t we stay one more night?” Dean tries, carefully.      Sam frowns, but then understands his reason for hesitation.      “Denise”, he chuckles. “Or Demi? I’m not sure. Her name started with a ‘D’.”      Dean’s typical grin appears on his face again, his eyes still soft, though.

     “Listen, man. I’m not pushing you to hook up with some chick just to mess you up, okay? At some point it’s gonna be time to move on, and I just figured a girl might help with that,” Dean lets him know, somewhat apologetic.      Sam eyes at his brother for a little while with an expression saying something in the line of ‘yeah right’. After a moment of who-gives-up-glaring-first, Dean caves.      “Alright, I wanted to piss you off so that you would get it out of your system,” he admits.

     The corner of Sam’s mouth twitches upward; he knew it. He’s not mad at Dean for playing that card, though. His older brother means well and he actually feels a little better now that he told him what is going on.      “Seriously, man. Talk to me when something’s up,” Dean underlines.      Sam responds with a nod of the head, then he gathers his stuff, apparently intending to leave.      “Ah, come on. One night,” Dean begs.      “There’s something ripping out hearts down in Texas, described by locals as ‘possibly coyotes’,” Sam offers.      Dean rubs his unshaven chin and thinks it over.      “Awesome werewolf hunt or awesome sex? Tough one,” he ponders.      Sam can’t help but smile and waits for the final call.      “Alright, let’s hunt some wolf,” Dean gives in. “Do you need to change in a phone booth before we go?”      Sam gives him a death-stare once again, but his brother keeps a straight face.      “No?” he checks, teasing.

     Dean can’t wipe the comical smirk off his face and so Sam shoves his brother towards the door, triggering him to let out a laugh. Before he follows, the younger Winchester feels his pockets for his phone and freezes. Unpleasantly surprised he looks around.      “Lost something?” Dean wonders.      “I think I left my Blackberry at Zo’s,” Sam realizes.      “Naturally,” Dean chuckles, failing to believe he didn’t leave it there on purpose.      “Would you quit it already?!” Sam returns, feisty.      “Okay, I’ll stop,” Dean promises. “We need to score some food anyway, I’m hungry.”      “There’s a In-N-Out a block from Zoë’s hotel,” Sam mentions.      Dean’s eyes light up, imagining the food in front of him already. “A Double-Double it is.”

     Sam grins as Dean picks up a small duffel containing only the few things they carry around at the moment. He follows Sam outside, who locks the door behind them. A quick bite before they leave another town and move on to the next. They never stay long, but the last two stops have been extremely short. Dean likes Denise, or whatever her name is, yet he has never been the guy who sticks around long enough to get serious with a girl. To be honest, a wolf hunt already sounds more fun than doing the girl he already did last night. After that shapeshifter drama, and now this newfound information about Sammy, he’s up for something equally exciting and distracting. Dean is sure of it; Texas, here they come.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter six here

[just-a-tiny-ghost]

The "tip of the hair” thing from anime characters.

We all know these characters who have funny hair color ranging from bright pink to sparkling white, passing by mysterious purple. It’s almost an unspoken rule not to ponder too much on the color of characters’ hair, because it’s so cool!

Here are some theories/possibilities on the reasons behind the tip of the hair!

(Please do not take any of these seriously)

Warnings: please do not take this seriously, fight scene, 5 scenarios within the theories, last scenario being just plain mean… (~4k words)

Characters: Kita Shinsuke, Kocho Shinobu, Yushiro, Tokito Muichiro, Yashiro Nene, Ishigami Senku, Akugatawa Ryuunosuke, Zenin Naoya

1st part: It’s naturally like this. “The ‘natural’ hair color”

It’s just like childhood blond people.

The people who are born blond, live through their childhood being blond and then, treason. Their roots start to darken, spreading the brown over the blond and they are no longer Primrose but Katniss. And it’s difficult, you know, to explain that they are blond because they are going through a strange phase where they no longer know the color of their own hair (*sniff*, just kidding).

So, it’s just like this, the roots are brown but often the tip of the hair is of a lighter color (blond, even ginger in certain places). You take this, and you reverse it, making so that the roots are lighter, and tips are darker.

Example: Kita Shinsuke, Haikyuu

Here you have baby Shinsuke, with the same natural hair color as when older.

(psst, imagine also if during summer his hair darkened more, just like people have them more blond).

It’s a new kind of molecule. (Part 1)

There was a mutation, the melanin mutated help! Other than the eumelanin (dark/brown) and the pheomelanin (red/yellow), another one appeared giving people crazy (cool) hair color! What’s more is that this one actually moves.

Example : Kocho Shinobu, Demon Slayer

Notice first, this beautiful purple. What do we also notice? The ratio and the defined line, just as if all hair should go from black to purple at the same exact point.

This is NOT a coincidence; this molecule can travel. I will explain that; so, we notice that younger Shinobu’s hair are shorter than when she is 18/19. However, as her hair grow longer there is more purple that is appearing? Shouldn’t there be lesser purple? No and we can thank this new, heroic molecule.

New systems developed inside the follicle, and they can sense, perceive the ratio of the colors. As the hair grow longer, more of this molecule will be created and sent to the extremity of the hair, allowing Shinobu to always have the same black/purple ratio on all the affected hairs, which explain the clear line as they are roughly the same length.

It’s a new kind of follicle. (Part 2)

And a lazy one at that! While working efficiently at the beginning, it soon becomes so lazy that it thought about just letting the regular black/brown/ginger/blond color instead of continuing working hard to color the hair a beautiful shade.

Example: Tokito Muichiro, Demon Slayer

(In his case, the follicle just forgot)

The Marie-Antoinette syndrome

The Marie-Antoinette syndrome is when someone hair suddenly turn white due to an intense stress.

The name came from folklore about the hair of Queen Marie-Antoinette of France (1755-1793), who during the night before her execution by guillotine, had her hair turn white in her cell due to stress.

The Marie-Antoinette syndrome could have had another name as Thomas More in 1535 also had his hair suddenly whitening the night before his execution, there were several cases of the syndrome throughout history, but no research suggests that we can lose hair color overnight. Yet, stress do cause hair to whiten, not overnight, but progressively.

Example: (well, might as well go with the same manga) Yushiro, Demon Slayer

I’m actually pretty sure this is due to stress as before meeting Tamayo he was sick and he may have had a time where all his hair were black, but the stress just came back when he realized how much he loves Tamayo and how many potential rivals he could have (lol). (assuming his hair continue to grow, but we know it’s not *sigh*)

So, this was all for now for the “natural” hair color part. Now, just imagine them just after they cut their hair.

You tilt your head sideways, examining Shinsuke’s hair while sipping your juice from under the shadow of the peach tree.

The sun was scorching, obliging him to wear his hat while gardening but not preventing you from taking sneak glances at his new hairstyle —diligently cut by his grandmother— the missing black color at the tip of his hair still slightly disturbing you.

When you saw him that day, your accustomed-to-seeing-him brain went into a frenzied panic assuming a non-existing threat from the sudden change in the pattern of his hair. You, without having a choice, followed behind this archaic brain of yours, metamorphosing into a stuttering, eyes-avoiding mess when your heart won the fight with your brain and decided that this would fluster you.

The day was spent in his bedroom, playing with his hair sometimes brushing them in the opposite direction, their straightness prickling your palm sometimes just rolling a strand between your fingers, eyes prying for even the tiniest spot of black leading you to conclude that they had all been cut off.

Your view of your boyfriend is suddenly blocked… by the face of said boyfriend. The blank stare on him was too much, as it was all he saw whenever he turned around to check on his resting girlfriend, leading him to come nearer.

“Hey, are you feeling all right?” He approaches his hand to you head, brushing your baby hair out of your face. “Even with a hat and sunscreen, maybe the sun was too strong? We can go inside and rest if you want to.”

You pull him to sit next to you, taking his hat off by the process and raising your head to scan the sky through the branches and leaves protecting you both.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you reach behind you and dive your hand in the cooler, grabbing a cool bottle of water, “you should drink a little though and we have to go back soon granny is going to worry, and I don’t want her to come outside to search for us in this kind of weather.”

You battle a little bit and screw off the cap to hand the bottle to him, which he takes and grace your fingers with a kiss right after.

“I am still not used to not seeing the black tips in your hair. Sorry I was staring,” you apologize.

He laughs it off, internally relieved that you were not mad or rehearsing a prank forged with the twins in your head.

He still had some influence on them and intimidating them was not a problem. He also could retaliate without an ounce of guilt.

But while he could scold you —it is fun to see you being apologetic and trying to be forgiven, your pranks were rather mild too—he could never be mad too long, as your pranks were just, well kind. If the twins are not involved.

“I can understand. Look at me as much as you want, I’m here for this as well after all.” He stands up and pulls you up after closing and putting the strap of the cooler on his shoulder.

“Let’s go home.” And you follow him, carefully placing both of your hat to protect you from the sunrays.

“Wait a little bit and you will see; the roots will grow black at first and it will soon be as usual.”

“Really?!”

Three days later, his hair was green, courtesy of the twins giving you ideas.

2nd part: It is not natural.

Well, we could just say, it’s the power of something that made it like this bla bla bla (well, I mean it’s the author who chooses).

But nah, it’s no fun if we do not make theories! Because the world is… *whisper* conspiracy. Let’s forget the wig too for now.

Well, let’s start with something basic: it’s simply dyed.

Maybe the characters just thought it was cool to have them dyes like that and this could work for a lot of them, even in the less recent times as people started to dye their hair even 1500 BC. 300 BC prostitutes in the Roman Empire already dyed their hair blond too, using ashes of burned plants or nuts and in 2014 artificial-looking hair color became a trend! (https://www.byrdie.com/hair-color-history)

Exemple : Yashiro Nene, Toilet-bound Hanako-kun

Nene-chan obviously is a hopelessly romantic teenager, and I am sure that she wants to follow trends just like she wants a boyfriend for the sake of, well, having a relationship at the beginning of the story.

So, pretty sure that with Aoi’s influence (she has the real power… help) they decided to dye the tip of her hair green in middle school.

(psst, PS: Aoi also tried to dye one strand green but her hairs were too dark, we can only distinguish the color when focusing)

(re psst: Akane directly noticed it).

Okay, a little funnier now. It’s because of an experimental failure, so a new kind of chemicals.

Example: Ishigami Senku, Dr Stone

So, we know that he is a science nerd. And we know that he experiments a lot. Let’s just imagine mini-Senku, seeing his father and wondering why the hell does he resemble a radish? 

Then, mini-Senku trying to synthesize a greenish hair dye (because he wants to look like a leek), but failing, not because it doesn’t take the color, but because it stays.

Do you know what’s even funnier? He failed it when he was young, like ridiculously young (he is in first grade here, so 6/7 years old and already a fan).

So just imagine 5/6 years old Senku, just having his hair up and green one day and he understands that they will always be like this.

It’s due to their power <3

Maybe kind of a side-effect of their power, we could think of Todoroki (Shoto) whose fire side have red hair and white in the ice side, so simply a cool consequence of cool powers.

Example: Akugatawa Ryuunosuke, Bungo Stray Dogs

Okay, so this is cannon, I’ve decided so. We all know he was poor, but like slums poor so he could just not afford to buy hair dye also there is no point in doing so.

BUT! During one of his fight, it happened. Rashomon ate the melanin at the tip of his hair. And since then, he decided it was cool and will keep it like this forever.

Scenarios! (･ω<)☆

“A-are you sure it’s like that?”

“Of course, it is, just trust me Nene-chan~”

They were clearly messing things up. The shower curtain laid there, ripped off its place, soppy and stained green at some places.

The sink, crowded with various face products, hair accessories, nail polish and a myriad of different-colored eyeshadows from just as much different pallets. Clothes lingered on the floor, creating little mountains of fabric and you were wise enough to avoid stepping on one in fear of being stabbed by a lost hairpin.

In the middle—rather the left corner—of this mess stood your two friends, the stool having been knocked off by a panicked Nene made you worry about her tripping on it. Facing her was a smiling Aoi hands stuck on too-big plastic gloves and a bottle of hair dye in her hands.

“I thought I told you both to wait for me,” you sighed. “Here Aoi-chan, gimme the bottle and the gloves. Nene-chan, catch this.”

You threw your package to her, which she missed, and the cloth unfolded revealing the cape you borrowed from your father’ barber shop. You hanged the curtain up again and went back to the now wearing the cape Nene— you just named teepee-Nene.

You slipped on the gloves and verified the mixture they prepared. Deeming it good and usable, you began to separate the strands of Nene’s hair, clipping some up and untangling some burdensome ones.

Then, as she already applied the protecting product, you began to spread the dye on her tips, visualizing the lovely ombré she wanted.

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed Aoi growing bored by each new stroke of brush.

“Do you want have a dyed strand too? Though it could not take well because of the color and the washing you just did,” you offered.

“Yes!” she eagerly accepted, immediately pointing at a random point on her head. “Plus, we can trust you at one hundred percent!”

“Of course,” you chuckled, “I am used to do this.”

“You did most of your colors by yourself, yeah?” Nene asked.

“Yup,” you confirmed. “But my parents were okay with it, were almost encouraging me to do so, bleh. Contrary to some middle-schoolers I know.”

You yelped, escaping from Aoi’s traitor finger that just poked your side. Nene grinned, “Well, as miss high-school first year helped us, you are an accomplice. Don’t think you can escape being punished with us, (Y/n).”

Shaking your head, you went back to her, lightly pinching her arm through the cape and focusing on your task with the girls’ chatting serving as your background noise.

_____________________

“We should dye your hair too, (Y/n)!” The girls’ eyes sparkled.

“No do so kids.” You discarded the dye bottle in your hand. “The dye doesn’t work anymore, should have requested this sooner.” Ignoring their complains, you walked out of the bathroom, walking to the kitchen for some snacks.

It was an ordinary day at the Ishigami household. Byakuya had checked his list, little shoes at the entrance, check. Clean living room and table, check. A walking Senku-sized mop, check. Groceries for dinner, check.

Byakuya turned around, checking again. Ah, he forgot the yogurts. Would it be weird to go back to the convenience store? They could skip yogurts for once, it wasn’t essential. What was important, however…

“Senku!! What happened to your head?!” He dashed to his son, grabbing his shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Wait you didn’t actually dive into a suspicious liquid right?” He paused. Then thought. He stared at him. “No, even if you want to test something you can’t just bath in it.”

Senku stared right back at him. And bonked his head.

“No I didn’t, I’m not stupid,” he reassured his father. “It’s hair dye,” he pointed out.

“Aah, I see…” He patted his hair before standing up. And tossed the child on his shoulder while ordering, “We are going to wash it away, immediately.”

_____________________

It wasn’t right. It didn’t go away.

“Why is it still stuck?!”

“I don’t know!! But stop, I’m going bald!! Help! He is trying to age a child! Human experiment!”

“I’m not, it doesn’t want t-oh, it’s disappearing.” Indeed, the water was now tinted a green color after streaming through Senku’s hair.

Byakuya sighed in relief. “Luckily it’s going away,” he started, “though it’s seems the tips already took the color in.”

Head down, Senku wrung out his hair and broke in a smile while confirming by himself Byakuya’s affirmation. “Yeah, I started by dyeing them first. Wanted to look like you.”

Byakuya froze. ‘He wanted to look like me?’ He glanced at his reflection. ‘I do have two hair colors.’ He grabbed a towel and spoke, “But you know, it’s not good to dye your hair this young. Come here, I’m gonna dry them.”

The child’s hairs were still thin, but the long strands would thicken later with no doubts. Byakuya was wary of his own strength too, as a child’s head remained fragile looking, Senku was still five after all. But this wouldn’t prevent him to mess with it a little bit.

Taking the hairdryer and a hair comb, he disentangled some knots here and there, added hair wax at each strand he lifted up until they were all up and with a radish-like form except from a tiny seaweed at the front.

“Tada! Here is my masterpiece. Keep it will you?” He ran away. “I’m going to the convenience store; I forgot the yogurts!” he shouted. “Tidy the bathroom up for now, thanks!"

_____________________

“What they didn’t know though,” the narrator started, “is that the chemicals would keep him looking like that, proudly wearing the same hairstyle 3,700 years later, a unique hairstyle, a relic from the modern era they knew.”

Akugatawa was in a dire situation. A kind of situation he had been in plenty of times but could be the last one he lived through just like all the other ones.

The enemy was strong, not physically exceptional, but having grown enough muscles to defeat three or four kids like Akugatawa attacking him together.

It wouldn’t be a problem, for he was blessed with Rashomon, if only the man he was fighting wasn’t an ability user as well.

The worst, being that he didn’t underestimate him nor was he stupid as he cleverly used all the aspects of his ability, taking each openings Akugatawa dropped by inadvertence, creating numerous opportunities from them and further damaging the child’s body each time.

Akugatawa was certain now, that his enemy couldn’t be taken lightly and though it was pointless to ponder on this now, as he didn’t know if he would survive this fight, he was concerned on why someone this strong would be going after him.

The answer to his questioning could be a threat to his relative safety, as well as his sister’s and the other children’s.

He dodged, the outline of the shadow almost piercing through his head, its razor-sharp edges flaunting death in front of his eyes.

After many failures, he finally began to uncover the trick to resist the unknown ability. The man had been sending his shadow after him for some gruesome minutes now and Akugatawa recognized some patterns, his body learned to dodge and bend to escape even one blow.

But his knowledge stopped there, he couldn’t pinpoint how to stop the enemy, how the ability worked.

All kind of ability had some king of mechanism, he learned. His depended on his clothing as the beast was formed from it. If put naked in front of an enemy, he would be dead meat; separated from any kind of fabric he was just as vulnerable as he was as a newborn.

Yet, even when having Rashomon by his side he was struggling against the stronger, the more experienced ability user.

While the origin of the enemy’s weapon was his obviously shadow, he had no ideas how to make it disappear nor did he know how to stop the connection between the user and his shadow.

He blocked an attack—at least Rashomon could touch it—and the beast’s fangs tore through the black foggy blade making a bee line to the enemy’s neck.

From under him, the man defended himself. This action cost him his life as Akugatawa found his long-awaited solution.

Another attack, not from the ground—he learned that when closer to him, the enemy could raise his shadow as he wanted—but from above him.

He lifted his head; the tip dangerously close to him.

It allowed Rashomon to successfully break the crystal hidden underneath the layers of shadow, the blade shattering apart the moment the crystal was damaged.

Now that he found out the way to get rid of him, Akugatawa could unleash his beast and let it freely destroy the destabilized enemy in front of him.

_____________________

The enemy was gone and Akugatawa staggered to his home, the distance being longer than what he recalled. Having reached the entrance, he collapsed on the ground after seeing his sister quietly waiting for his return.

He woke up some hours later, the night had installed itself in the sky.

Something was strange however, as his sister was staring at him, eyes sparkling. He wondered why until she pointed at a strand of her hair that was framing her face and taking it, pushing him to mirror her actions with his own.

Indeed, where the black melanin was supposed to be, was now hairs devoid of color and white like an old man’s. His gaze trailed up to find out only the tip lost its color, the pattern where the colors met looking like sharp teeth.

“Big brother,” Gin started, “could you do the same for me? I want white tips too! And you must do the same at the other side, it would be prettier if it symmetrical.”

Did his sister just ask him to chomp her with Rashomon?

Bonus: Zenin Naoya <3<3<3, new technique

Hang him head down.

First, you lure him into the garden, being a submissive, obedient and sweet wife, you want your dear husband who is finally at home to relax and you have prepared a surprise for him <3

So, you lead him to the garden, where you prepared a magnificent, grandiose gallows!

Not understanding the reason why it’s here but being arrogant enough for at least a hundred men; he asks his silly wife why something so grotesque was in the garden she adored to take care of

You smile sweetly and lean in to kiss him (him allowing you to do so of course, you couldn’t do this if he was not spoiling you but he was really good with you), wrapping your arms around his neck

Then, you let go of his neck, watching him slowly fall back.

“Oh, dear!” You chuckle after hearing the loud bang his head produced after kissing the ground

You grab the collar of his cloth with one hand, the other one patting the back of his head, fingers finally grazing the little bump, consequence of his fall.

You slam it. (´꒳`)♡

Then you drag him behind you, playing a little bit among the moist grass and zigzagging to admire the pretty flowers you took care of during all the times you had an affair with boredom behind your husband’s back.

1st step. You tightly tie the rope around Naoya’s feet, slipping his sandals in his trouser for him to be able to find them later, how thoughtful you are

2nd step. You get the basin you already prepared and then, you pour the hair dye inside of it

3rd step. You use your delicate arms to lift him up, pulling on the rope with the mechanism you prepared, only do this now or he could die from having too much blood going to his head. Again, you are a model for all wives with your thoughtfulness.

4th step. Let the tip of his hair soak in the hair dye and you can even use it to decorate your husband’s clothes ( ´ ▽ ` )

5th step. Let him dry here, he will take the dye in and have beautiful hair tips. When he wakes up, he won’t be calling the servants because of his pride but then take a little time to come off the gallows. And then, he will be so thankful towards his wife he might want to kill you without ever divorcing! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

But you leave the garden before he wakes up, you want to surprise him.

You take your luggage, join the man/woman (dear boredom) you are actually having an affair with and get out of the house. You want him to fully experience his marriage after all, you will offer him the experience of being cucked.( ◡‿◡ *)

[imagine-organization-xiii]

There hasn't been a nsfw one in a while so...how to the members (minus the kiddies) handle getting edged? >:3c

you all know sam is my go-to for all things nsfw, so enjoy this special treat that she made

Xemnas

Usually Xemnas is the one doing the edging. The man loves power play in the bedroom, what can I say? And the power of withholding orgasm is definitely something he loves to do. So when you suggest switching the tables, he isn’t too enthused by the idea of things being out of his control. 

But eventually you, being the one person that the man truly treasures, are able to wear him down and he concedes to letting you try. As things get started, Xemnas doesn’t say much more than the occasional moan. You get him close to his breaking point and cease your ministrations, Xemnas lets out a soft groan of frustration, which is honestly very surprising as he is usually very in control of himself. He assures you that he is fine, but it is obvious that he grows frustrated as you urge him closer.

He never begs, not even a little, but you do see him start to gasp and ever so slightly shudder from your touch . And honestly? The power you feel is just exhilarating, and you see why he loves it so. Soon you purr into his ear asking if he was ready to finish and without missing a beat replies with that voice that gives you chills. How could he be pushed so far and still stir you like that?

When you let him release, he does so with a simple gasp and a sigh, as his body relaxes in a post coital state. And again, without missing a beat, asks that you help hand him a towel and clean himself up. He then holds you and says that he did not hate the experience. Score!

Xigbar

At first, Xigbar is pretty cocky about the idea, claiming that he was going to be “pretty boring to watch” and that he’s “a real champ when it comes to self control”. And at first he’s right. Edged once, He sighs and smirks, ready to go again. But with each time, as he gets closer and closer to cumming, he seems to get more and more desperate.

He desperately wants the greater high, but the temptation of cumming is too much for him, that he could lose control. Almost. His breath starts to grow shaky and his usual sounds of pleasure are replaced with desperate moans and gasping.

You know he can’t take much more of this, but when you ask, he refuses to admit defeat. “I.. could do this all day…”. But as you edge him closer for one final time, he will concede and just beg for release. And when you let him have it, the man is seeing stars and living in bliss. Definitely worth it, but will never admit that he actually begged.

Xaldin

He may not look it, but edging is one of those things Xaldin loves. If Xaldin is with someone, it only is because he loves and trusts them with his life. And this man loves being dominated. So when you bring up edging, he is rather excited for it. And his enthusiasm is rather apparent, not in his words so much as the fact that he is so eager. He grows close to his orgasm and as the attention stops, he lets out a moan that almost comes out as a dulcet purring.

His face is already flushed a dark red as he breathes heavily to regain his composure. You are almost worried that this attention is too much for him, but when you ask, he assures you that he is fine before he says that he is ready to start again. As the rounds go on, his gasps are ragged and his heart is roaring in his ears, but as you look over him, he seems to be taking in his senses and basking in the sensations.

At first you worry that it is too much for him, but it becomes clear that Xaldin is simply blissed out on all of the feelings that he is experiencing. And with every time you edge him closer, it seems that that bliss grows stronger, and soon he is just so overcome that he is whispering your name on his lips as if they were sacred prayer, peppered in with ‘I love you’s and adoration of all sorts.

And when that time comes that he finally cums, it's as if the floodgates have opened the pathway to heaven. He orgasms hard, and you start to hold him steady for fear he might faint, but he is so pleased in his post orgasmic glow that he simply peppers kisses along your face and anywhere else he can reach. Needless to say this is something you both will be doing again soon.

Vexen

He doesn’t even know what it is, but I promise you that Vexen does not want to try whatever it is that you are asking of him. He is a busy man that doesn’t have time for primal urges right now. But you beg. And you give him those big eyes, so he allows you to explain what it is you’re asking of him. And honestly? The whole process seems interesting, especially because he knows that sexual intercourse has such a prominent effect on the human brain and emotions.  Suddenly this has become an experiment, as things often do.

Before the main event can begin, Vexen must prepare hypotheses as well as prep his tape recorder and research on the human brain and emotion. The ultimate foreplay is the scientific method, after all. So finally, after all of the prep, the sex can finally start.

You urge him close to orgasm and within seconds his usually pale skin is painted with hues of pink and red. The poor man is so sensitive and it is truly something that you love watching. He gasps and moans from even the smallest touches and his voice is something like music to your ears. You urge him as close as you can before you feel the subtle twitching of his body and come to a quick stop before it’s too late and the experiment is ruined. (And honestly it nearly was).

Vexen gasps as the attention stops as he slowly tries to gain his composure. He then quickly starts to scramble for his notes and tries to write every sensation down before asking to go again, though it's pretty obvious that he was very exhausted already from the experience.

You get him close for a second time, and this time, the spindly man starts to quiver under your touch and his moans grow more hot and desperate. Honestly watching him become more sensitive to you starts to get you hot and bothered by proxy and a thought quickly passes through your mind. An Idea. A wonderfully terrible idea. You edge him closer again before stopping completely, and this time it takes Vexen longer to compose himself but again he scrambles to his notes and writes in his books.

You can feel heat rise in your lower belly in anticipation of what you will do next. Once Vexen lets you know that he is ready to start again, you ease in slowly at first and bask in what a mess the attention you’re lavishing is making him. But as you start to get to your usual pace, you stop before giving the scientist a mischievous look and inching closer to him, easing yourself onto his lap and sliding yourself onto his cock.

Your gasps fill the room as the ecstasy hits you both. It’s something you never tire of as you pump yourself on top of your beloved scientist. It’s as if the air is electric between you as you let the sparks of passion fly through the air. Vexen moans like he never had before and it only drives you closer to your own release. You both move faster and faster as you quickly hit your peak and Vexen comes harder than he had in his life.

You both are completely dazed and for a while, Vexen forgets everything, even his experiment notes. It’s not until a week later that Vexen approaches you and claims that his notes are “inconclusive” and that “More tests are needed.”

Lexaeus

Honestly, Edging is something that appears pretty early in your sexual relationship with Lexaeus. He often prefers slower sex and finds that edging, along with being an excellent test of restraint, is something that makes the lovemaking between the two of you all the more intense. With each passing wave of intensity, Lexaeus revels in the passion and pleasure that ripples through him.

Lexaeus also is a very large and strong man. He prefers his beloved be the one holding the reins so there is less of a chance that he hurts them. He is usually a quiet man, even in the bedroom, with the occasional soft grunt or moan, but with each round of edging, his breathing grows just a little more rough, and the blood rush is dizzying.

Eventually, thanks to you, the man seen as a stone wall was now as soft as the finest clay. You feel as if you can mold this man in the palms of your hand as his soft expression melts through your entire being. He is slowly weathered down into the raw, sensitive being that enchanted you. Soon you lean in to kiss him and suddenly the love making has begun again.

Between Lexaeus’s extremely high stamina and endurance, and the slow pace at which you go, one session of lovemaking could go for hours, or even all day. And needless to say that while Lexaeus is edging himself, you make out like a bandit and cum more times than you can count by the end of the day.

Zexion

While Zexion is still getting used to adding new experiences to the bedroom, when you bring up the possibility of adding Edging, he is surprisingly responsive. He admits to sometimes even edging himself while masturbating purely out of boredom and to see if he could do it.

So when the time comes that you two decide to try it out, Zexion takes the first few rounds of edging fairly well. He gets close, but is still able to regain his composure when all the attention stops all while trying his best to breathe calmly through his nose and maintain an aura of self control.

You were hoping he would be a little more riled up by your edging, but of course everything has its breaking point. As you urge him closer again, Zexion’s breath, once steady and calm, becomes heavy, hot and needy. He whimpers under your caress. And it’s absolutely delicious. You bring him to the brink again and he lets out a desperate moan. Its intoxicating.

You tease him, gently, asking if he wants to cum while tracing a finger along his abdomen. His breath catches before nodding. He pleads, begs for release. And you know, as fun as it is to tease, you can’t deny the poor boy much longer.

You urge him one more time and Zexion cums with a moaning gasp. His head hits the pillow beneath him with a soft thud. As you gently move the hair from his face, you look over his glazed over expression and can't help but chuckle. This is definitely something you’ll be trying again soon.

Saix

At first, Saix doesn’t seem interested in the idea of being edged. He usually is someone who views sex either as a release of tension, otherwise it is a distraction. But of course, he can’t deny you. So after a few days of begging, and giving him those big eyes, he eventually concedes and allows for you to try it once.

At first, it seems that Saix struggles with allowing you control over him. He is not someone to give up his dominance lightly. BUT you suggest adding a small amount of restraint to help with the transition and Saix agrees, honestly more for your safety than anything else. You tie his wrists with a leather strap and get down to it.

You give him a cheeky grin as you begin your ministrations. It takes a little while but you can tell when Saix is close when his breath goes ragged and he starts to thrust himself into your palm. You urge him as close as you can and then stop abruptly. Saix snarls in frustration at the loss of the high before recomposing himself. You smile and coo his name amid praises. When he is ready, you start again.

You get him close again and like last time you get a growl in frustration as you pull your hand away, though he seems more riled up than before. You coo him again gently to try and calm him, but as he regains himself it seems as if he is still seething. As you begin the motions for the third time, Saix snarled before giving you a deliciously devious look. “You have no idea what I would do to you right now, if not for these constraints.”

Oh how you loved when he gave you that look. It was like looking into the eyes of a feral beast, the hunter looking at his prey. Your chest stirred as his gaze met your own. Well, playing along wouldn’t hurt. You keep pumping his cock quicker as you ask exactly what he would do to you. You get him close again and before pulling away Saix smirks “Well..”

And then, all you hear is a sharp snap of the leather strap before a flash of blue pushes you back into the mattress, hard. And staring down at you are a pair of intense, passionate golden eyes. And lets say that while the edging didn’t finished as originally planned, you have some of the best sex you’ve had in MONTHS. Definitely a good time.

Axel

As soon as you mention edging, Axel is pretty eager. It’s not like he’s done this before, but he definitely has spent a lot of time looking up sex terms on urban dictionary. And totally not spending the rest of his nights thinking about the possibilities with his dick in his hands. Definitely not.

Anyway, when the night comes, Axel is still as revved as he was days prior. As soon as the doors close behind you, he is peppering kisses all along your lips, face and neck. As you make your way downtown, things start to get hot and heavy. You edge Axel from his orgasm the first time and honestly handles it pretty well. He lets out a small gasp as you pull away but after a moment of composure is ready to go again.

The second time, he is a little more reactive but all-in-all is pretty well off, though by this point, his face is flushed as red as a tomato and his breathing has become ragged. You look into his eyes you can see his pupils are blown wide in bliss and wanting. All he can do as you tease him for the third time is mutter your praises like a prayer on his lips. How beautiful you are, and how much he adores you. The words flow from his mouth like a river, like music.

You bring him close and stop for a third time, and Axel lets out a soft but wanton moan. His body twitches from your touch as you run a hand down his bare chest. You knew he couldn’t take much more of this but watching him in such a desperate state was simply addicting. You place a kiss on his lips, but you linger without pulling away.

Your breath mingles as you give him a kind smile and slowly trail your hand along his abdomen before wrapping your hand around his hardened cock. “Do you want to cum, Axel?” you coo, though you already know the answer.

Axel lets out a sigh and summons the energy to give you a cheeky grin. “Oh me? I thought you’d never ask” You use your energy to bring him to the brink for one final time and watch as the fiery redhead becomes completely undone, cumming all over himself and your hand.

You lean over and give him a soft peck on the lips and Axel gives you one of his signature smirks. “Wow that was… incredible..” He pants before placing another kiss of your lips. Axels redhead lops to side as he leans into his open palm.The wanton lust still lingers in his gaze along with a glint of mischief . “Now it’s your turn.”

Demyx

Yeah he has no idea what you just asked him to try doing, and of course in true Demyx style, he agrees without even a thought in his little head. He does, however, do an extensive google search as soon as he is alone. And he is a little intimidated at what he finds at first but he remembers that every time you introduced him to something new, he loved it, so by the end of the night he is looking forward to trying this out with you.

You first start to try and get Demyx into the mood, his excitement and nerves seem to get the better of him. Whenever your hands touch his skin, the boy keeps breaking out in fits of nervous giggles. He was always ticklish but never this much. Of course, this leads to you taking a much needed tickle break, and once Demyx has all of the laughter forced out of him, you take some more time to talk about what is making him so nervous and assure him.

You two take a little more time talking about boundaries and what the plans of the night would entail before asking one more time if he is okay with doing something like this. After relaxing and taking the time to talk, Demyx nods again and you get to it. The first time you work him up, Demyx reacts much like he normally would when you make love. He lets out little dreamy sighs and moans but as soon as you pull away, Demyx lets out a gasping moan that honestly sounds so foreign and funny, you snort a little in laughter.

Demyx looks at you with his little puppy dog eyes and asks what’s so funny. You tell him it’s nothing but you can't help but grin when he gives you that little pout of his. You edge him another time. And another. By the fourth time you are working him over, Demyx is so sensitive that he is letting out small whimpers and moans with every touch. From his lips, sweet words of praise escape, as he twitches and whines.

Each and every sound he makes is like a sweet song and you relish every second. You work him up one final time, before whispering for him to let himself cum, and with one final whining moan, Demyx can’t hold back anymore and lets himself go, cum spurting up and landing up along his stomach. He gasps out deep breaths, trying to compose himself, but you can see the stars as they whir and dance in his eyes.

This boy lets out a loopy little giggle as he reaches up and places kisses on your lips. “That was… awesome.. I’m really glad we did this..” Seeing him like this, so blissed out and relaxed, you can't help but smile.

Luxord

When you bring up edging to him, he doesn’t exactly know what he’s in for. Not because he hasn’t done it before, but because he didn’t realize there was a term for it. But once you explain it to him, Luxord is all in.

He gives you a wink and a low chuckle. “Well, I quite look forward to finding out what is up your sleeve.” When the night comes, Luxord just has the same cocky grin on his face that he always does as if he is going to devour you on the spot. He purrs and moans as you edge him close the first time and as soon as you stop, he lets out a groan and gives you a smirk. You edge him closer and stop again, his breathing is heavy. He sighs and moans out, but it’s apparent that he enjoys the attention you're giving him.

But as you lean in to touch him for the third time, Luxord stops you. He smiles and purrs into your ear. “Now my dear, you know we can do better than that. What do you say we up the ante?” You don’t know exactly what he was going to suggest, but if there was anything you know about the Gambler of Fate, it was that he knew how to have a good time. And that you trusted him. You match his gaze, nod, and with a grin, Luxord places his hands on your hips before guiding you to hover over his flushed cock. 

You ease down on top of him and you both let out gasps of pleasure as the pressure overtakes you. It’s blissful. “There.. That’s much more like it…” he purrs. With his hands on your hips, Luxord holds you up and down his dick, urging both of you to the edge before stopping his motions again. And this time, it was you who let out a moan of frustration. It’s then when you realized. He totally turned the tables on you.

Luxord made it so that you were craving more, while still edging himself as well. That cheeky fuck. But before you could tell him off, Luxord was at your hips again, moving you up and down. Holy shit it was maddening. Again and again, you move, getting closer and closer to release before stopping entirely. It started to become a game of who would beg first. 

Each round, you both grow more exasperated, and more desperate, but you don’t cave. And Neither does he. This game goes longer and longer, and it comes to a point where you both are gasping and moaning, and so sensitive that you're twitching from the slightest touch. You weren’t sure if you could take much more of this.

“Hey..”You look up into his steely blue eyes and you can see lust clouding his vision. He was close to giving in. You could feel it. “How about.. We propose a truce, love?” His breathing was heavy and you both were so close to your edge. You nod again before starting up and down on his cock one more time. It doesn’t take long as your muscles twitch and your entire body becomes alight with a fire running through your blood.

The feeling is so powerful as your orgasm ripples through you.And just as your body gives way, Luxord is just behind, letting out a large groan and cumming inside you as your insides overflow. You both pant heavily as you try to recompose yourselves for a moment before your heavy breathing turns to exhausted laughter. Your eyes meet and you can’t help but grin. It seemed that tonight you were both winners.

Marluxia

Surprisingly, he is the one that brought this topic up to you. He just says you point blank that he would like to try and introduce something new to the bedroom. Together, the two of you bounce ideas, and when you suggest edging, he just about purrs in agreement. It is definitely something he has done before, but this is the first time he is doing something like this with you.

So in an effort to make the night special, you make a point to decorate your bedroom with scented candles and flower petals. It’s all very much in the mood. When he comes into the room and sees all the effort, he gives you a knowing smile. You whisper affection into his ear as you work him as close to orgasm as you can before pulling your hand away. Originally you expected some sort of grunt or groan, some sort of sound in frustration, but Marluxia simply moans out as if he’s stretching a muscle he hadn’t used in some time.

He almost sounded, relieved. “Hmm That was nice.. You ready to go again, darling?” He purred. You probably looked a little shocked but you swiftly started again. A few rounds later, and Marluxia is still responding to your touch and moaning as if he were appreciating a cool breeze on a hot day. You started to wonder how long he could go. The answer ended up being a lot more than you thought. Honestly, over the course of the night you lost count of how many rounds you went with Marluxia, and it wasn’t just because you’re not so good with numbers.

Honestly, at one point, when your hand grew tired, Marluxia took a turn of edging himself as you rested your arm and watched as he wretchedly moaned under his own touches. Still pretty damn hot. As the night went on his noises did however become more depraved and wanting, and you decided you couldn’t watch anymore. So, instead of working your arm sore again, you decide to give Marluxia a lustful gaze as you slowly lean down and take his flushed cock into your mouth and all he can do is let out a low, and searing moan.

You knew that he was close, as cool as Marluxia tried to appear. So you pull your head back, just enough so that the head of his dick rested against your soft lips and as you look up at Marluxia.

A visible shiver runs up the back of his neck as your lips brush against him and you ask him if he wants to cum. “I wouldn’t want anything more my dear..” He purrs in a voice that tried so hard to sound steady, but as you take his cock back into your mouth, he can’t help but groan out. You bob your head as your tongue swirled around his shaft from inside your mouth.

The pink haired Adonis above you is moaning out things like how wonderful your mouth feels and how absolutely stunning you are before the hand that had worked its way into your hair starts to twitch and his voice starts to become less of words and more guttural moaning sounds. Not a moment later the chord snaps and he cums into your mouth.

The taste is salty but mildly sweet. You don’t mind it too much as the hand on your head starts to rub small circles of appreciation into your scalp. You swallow and pull your head back to see Marluxia, leaning his head back against your headboard and humming in pleasure with his eyes closed. You crawl up to the top of the bed and place a kiss on the assassin’s cheek before placing your head on his shoulder and the two of you start to doze.

Larxene

You bring up the possibility of edging and Larxene meets your request with a bolt of enthusiasm. She is so down and is even talking big game of how good the night is going to be. She shows up the night of wearing the most rocking crop top and shorts look she could muster, and she looks absolutely stunning. You almost wish you could just spend the evening gazing at her. But you had plans and there was no way you were going to back out now.

It takes a little time to get Larxene in the mood but after a good amount of time with foreplay and just playing around, you start to get her close to orgasm. You can tell by the way that her lips twitch under your touch. You get her closer and closer until you stop and pull your hand away and you are hit with the loudest groan of frustration. Oh she was steamed.

She looks up at you with eyes like daggers and you can't help but laugh. A little. Of course that doesn’t make her any less mad. So you lean over and place a kiss on her forehead and remind her how much better this was going to be if he was patient. She huffs and allows you to continue. 

You do it again, get her as close as you possibly can before pulling away and she whines out in her frustration. And again, this time her whine is a little more wanton, a little more desperate. That sharp gaze she gave you before is now clouded with lust and desire.

You honestly feel a little bad holding out on her like this. You kiss her on the lips and her kiss is absolutely enchanting. She pulls you in and your kisses start to become hot and heavy. Oh god you want her so badly but you know that this isn’t about you. You grind against her hips and she moans out again. Normally she isn’t so vocal but it’s clear how bad this edging has affected her.

“Do you want to cum?” You whisper in her ear and she nods her head as her eyes push closed. You then have a terrible idea. You lean over to the side of the bed and open the drawer to the nightstand before pulling out a small device no bigger than your finger. You whisper in her ear again to stay still and keep her eyes closed before turning the device on and pressing it gently against her slick cunt. The soft buzzing doesn’t seem like much but as soon as it is pressed against her, Larxene lets out the most wanton and desperate moan. The sensation is so much for her that her body twitches from the vibrations.

You ask her again “Do you want to cum, Larx?” She is so frustrated and blissed out on this new sensation she just moans out a desperate “Y-Yes!” You smile as she continues her hardest to hold on before telling her to let go. Within a moment she shrieks as her orgasm overtakes her, her body still twitching in her afterglow. Her eyes open again to look up at you with an exhausted smile. “Not so tough now huh?” You chuckle. 

“Sh.. Shut up.”

[squirmymochi]

Another commission for a lovely customer who requested a man who gets desperate at the waterpark with his girlfriend! Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy it!

Read it on Ao3

“Are you having fun, babe?”

Alex grimaces, doing his best to smile as he turns around in the pool, ignoring the way the cool water brushes up against his chest. He’s been at the waterpark with his girlfriend Nadia for four, maybe five hours now--it had been her idea, as a final end-of-summer activity before the two would have to return to their last year of university together--and for the first three and a half or so, he’d been having a great time. It’s sunny out, the perfect weather to go to the beach or the pool or a waterpark, they’ve already knocked all of their summer homework out of the way, and he’d just turned twenty-one earlier in the summer, meaning he’s finally legally allowed to drink.

Nadia has made sure to celebrate that last part over the course of the day, always ushering him back towards the bar at the far end of the park to grab more drinks. They’re not trying to get drunk--Alex is pretty sure he’ll want to remember what happened today when he wakes up tomorrow, and with his past experience with alcohol, anything past a few beers will probably make it so that he won’t remember a thing--but Nadia had been so convincing, always offering to pay and promising that she’ll stay sober enough to drive home without getting pulled over by the cops. And besides, it is their last week of summer break before school starts again. Doesn’t he deserve to live a little, get a little tipsy and have some fun?

That had been his mindset two hours ago, anyway, when he’d drank with no precautions. Now, he’s not thinking about having a good time before school starts. Now he isn’t thinking about anything that isn’t the throbbing ache coming from his bladder, reminding him every second of exactly how much beer he’d had throughout the day. Four big, viking-worthy glasses, probably closer to half a pitcher than a mug, plus the water he’d insisted on having alongside it to keep himself from going too far too fast. God, no wonder his need is so strong. He can’t even remember when it was he last went to the bathroom, either--was it all the way at the beginning of the day, so many hours ago?

“Alex?” Nadia sing-songs, snapping him out of his trance as she swims closer to him, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you having a good time?”

“Of course,” Alex says automatically, squeezing his legs tight together under the water. They’re situated roughly in the middle end of the wave pool, where they’ve been wading for about a half an hour, diving under the water and chasing each other around, having races to see who’s the faster swimmer. (Alex, being on the swim team in high school, usually won, but sometimes he let Nadia win just for fun.) The waves are turned off right now, but he’s pretty sure they’re gearing up to come back any second now, as they’ve been coming and going in fifteen minute intervals since they arrived.

It’s fairly easy to move around right now, too; the water is calm, the floaties and foam toys spread around the pool are all at a standstill, and there aren’t many children darting around in the shallow end, blocking the path to get out. It would be a perfect time to excuse himself to the bathroom and take care of his rather pressing need, which is pretty much the only thing he wants to do at the moment.

But Nadia is here, smiling up at him happily as she treads water (it’s cute that she’s so short she can barely stand in the deep end, but he can’t focus on that right now) with an expectant look in her eyes. She’s having fun where she is, in the pool with him, and the last thing he wants to do is ruin it for her over some silly need he should have more control over as a twenty-one year old man. He can hold it for just a little bit longer, if it means she’ll have a few more minutes of fun.

“I bet I can beat you to the deep end!” Nadia exclaims, her mouth curling into a little grin as she pushes her dark hair, sleek with water, over her shoulder. “Come on, before the waves start up again!”

“What are you, five?” Alex laughs tightly, even though he’s the one in the childish situation. He feels more five than he has in a while, all thanks to the urges coming from his abdomen. There’s no way he’ll be able to race her again without making himself seriously desperate, but he doesn’t want to flat-out say no to her. (Saying no to Nadia is probably his least favorite thing in the universe, and it shows.)

“Scared you’ll lose?” Nadia taunts, eyes glimmering with mirth as she does so. “Come on, it will be fun!”

And it’s that sight, the look on her face which she’s given him a thousand times before, that finally makes Alex put aside his uncomfortableness and agree. “Alright, fine,” he sighs, playing along with her challenge. “Last one to the deep end is a rotten egg.”

“Yeah!” Nadia crows triumphantly, before running a hand across the surface of the pool towards Alex, splashing him in the face with drops of cool water before she takes off. Alex laughs, diving into the water and chasing after her, putting all his strength into kicking beneath the surface with his muscular legs.

Fuck . If he’d thought treading water with a full bladder was hard, it’s nothing compared to actually swimming. With each kick he feels like he’s about to leak, his legs spreading apart and muscles growing tired with every stroke. Having his legs forced apart over and over again is borderline painful, and since his arms are busy propelling him forward in the water, there’s nothing left to keep the pressure on his crotch from the outside. God, he can feel the pee just sitting there, begging to be let out.

But he can’t pee in the pool! There are so many other people there, enjoying their family vacations together in the same body of water that he’s in. It would be more than rude to contaminate the water they were swimming in with his body’s own type of water, regardless of whether anyone else could tell or not. And besides, he wouldn’t want to be swimming in it, either.

“I win!” Nadia cries as he surfaces, his hands shooting up to hold onto the wall when he wishes they could shoot down to hold his penis instead. He settles for crossing his legs under the water and moving his hips back and forth as gracefully as he can, hoping that the wave of pressure he’d just felt goes away as quickly as it had come. “You know what that means. Loser buys another round of drinks!”

“Ah,” Alex pants, glancing warily towards the bar as he continues to fidget underwater. “More drinks? I’m not really thirsty, you know…”

“You don’t drink beer because you’re thirsty,” Nadia points out with a pout. “You drink it ‘cause it’s fun. Besides, it’s hot out! Don’t you want to stay hydrated?”

I’m plenty hydrated enough, thank you! his mind protests. I don’t think I could put more liquid in me if I tried!

“I’ll buy something for you,” he reasons instead, hoping his voice doesn’t give him away. “I’m already feeling buzzed enough.”

Nadia’s pout deepens, but she moves on fairly quickly as the water around them shifts. “Oh, the waves are starting again!” she exclaims excitedly as the pool around them begins to fill with movement. “Come on, let’s swim back to the other end so I can stand!”

With that, she turns around in the water and kicks off from the wall, gliding through the waves effortlessly, like some kind of Grecian goddess. Her long, dark hair trails behind her, clinging to her back when she resurfaces, but Alex doesn’t have the capabilities to appreciate his girlfriend’s figure right about then.

His entire body is frozen against the wall as his head fills with the sound of water splashing against water, crashing upon the sides of the pool and lapping at his chest. All of a sudden the only thing he can hear is dripping, churning, running water, and the noises seem to be going straight from his brain to his bladder.

God, he hadn’t realized how seriously bad he needed to go until now, with waves upon waves of liquid moving around him. His bladder feels so full and heavy inside of him, like a water balloon that’s overfilled and ready to pop at any second. All those beers, all that water… It’s all still inside of him, and he’d bet that there’s even more still traveling down from his kidneys into his bladder, ready to overinflate it even more than it already is.

He sucks in a deep breath and presses the front of his body further against the wall, trying his best to create pressure against his crotch. He doesn’t dare grind down--the wall of the pool is rather gritty, and he’d prefer not to harm his genitals in any way if he can help it--but it’s a tough battle to fight. He wishes the water weren’t so clear so that he could reach down and grab himself without anyone there to judge him, but the waterpark is so crowded, and he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. (Oh, but holding himself sounds absolutely heavenly right about then.)

Nadia, who had already swam a few feet away, turns back to give him a questioning look. “Aren’t you coming?” she asks, thankfully not noticing his strange body language, his hunched shoulders or gritted jaw. “Come on, my legs are getting tired.”

“C-Coming,” Alex says, thrusting his hips forward against the wall one more time before pushing off towards the shallow end. He doesn’t dare front crawl his way over this time--that would be much too much for his poor, swollen bladder to handle. Instead he doggy paddles towards the shallower side of the pool, trying his best to appear normal in front of the families that are watching him.

Inside his body, his bladder throbs agonizingly, demanding that he release its contents as soon as he can. He sucks his lip between his teeth as he paddles over, clenching his sphincter muscles as hard as he can until he makes it far enough that he’s able to stand. As soon as he does that, he crosses one leg over the other and bobs up and down in the water, breathing heavily as he shifts his hips from side to side. He needs to get to a bathroom as soon as possible or he’s going to get wet in an entirely different way (one that will be much less fun for everyone involved).

Reluctantly, Alex uncrosses his legs and moves forward, but every step sends tiny vibrations up his legs and across his abdomen. He gasps as a strong urge hits him, bending forward at the waist and locking his knees together under the water to fight against the throbbing pressure. His hands ball into fists at his sides, nails digging into the skin of his palms as he does his best not to let them fly to the front of his swim trunks. If he was worried about people seeing him in the deep end, there’s no way he’d be able to go unnoticed in the shallow side.

He’s just deep enough for the waves to crash straight against his abdomen, water licking at his bladder from the other side, tempting it to release without his permission. “ Ah, ” he gasps, grabbing the front of his thigh and hooking one knee over the other in an attempt to keep himself from going right then, right there. He needs to get himself under control, and soon, before his desperation reaches uncharted levels. Unsteadily, he staggers forward, only to suck in a sharp, pained gasp as his lower body leaves the water.

If he thought his need was bad before, it’s absolutely nothing compared to what he’s feeling now. It feels as if another pint of beer has just been dumped straight into his bladder, filling it to the brim and stretching it to its utmost limit. He realizes with a start that the water from the pool had been the only thing keeping him on the safer edge of desperation--it had made the gravitational pull on his bladder feel lesser, creating a buoyant effect on the poor organ without him noticing, and now that the pressure of the water isn’t on him, gravity is catching up.

His hands begin to fly to his crotch, only to flutter away at the last second as he uses his last bit of willpower to keep them at his sides. Insteadhe sucks his lip between his teeth and stifles a moan, half-falling back into the water around him and sighing with relief when the agonizing pressure goes away. He can still feel hot, throbbing pain coming from his abdomen, but now that he’s surrounded by the pool water again, he doesn’t feel on the verge of exploding anymore.

Still, he needs to get to a toilet as soon as possible, and it’s not likely that he’ll be able to hold it if he lifts himself out of the pool again. What is he supposed to do now? The nearest bathrooms are on the other side of the waterpark, and there’s no way in hell he’d let himself be seen hobbling around a family gathering area with his hands between his legs like some kind of pervert. Besides, he isn’t even sure he’d be able to make it to those restrooms without completely losing control along the way. He’s so desperate, he can barely think straight, and he knows for sure his face must be all red and twisted up in pain by now.

As much as he hates to admit it, he’s pretty sure that he’s only got one option left: he’s going to have to pee in the pool. It’s something he’s never done before--even as a child, he’d always held it in long enough to get to the bathrooms, even though he’d thought they were pretty gross. (And doing that had sure given him some close calls, and a few extra wet spots on his swim shorts, but hey, it’s probably best not to think about those right now.)

So, he’s going to contaminate the pool with his own bodily fluids. It should be easy--the sound of roaring, splashing water surrounds him, teasing him with the premise of relief every second, and the pool water itself is cool enough that it’s making his bladder more than a little uncomfortable. But it’s hard , trying to consciously pee where he’s not supposed to, when he knows it’s taboo, especially for a full-grown adult such as himself. He sighs again, squatting down in the shallow water and doing his best to relax, unclench his muscles, and think of the promise of relief he’s only seconds away from…

And at last, he feels a dribble of urine escape from his bladder and trail through his urethra, creating a tiny spot of warmth in the pool water at the head of his dick. He sighs, letting his head fall back and his arms float to the surface of the pool as his stream picks up, his bladder just starting to become a bit less swollen, a little bit emptier. He can feel the water around him, still rocked by waves, growing warm with his own piss, and… To be honest, it’s a little bit hot. He’s always been a bit of a stickler for the rules, but now, doing something so naughty as peeing in a public pool, without anyone else knowing that he’s doing it… He’s just starting to enjoy the feeling when he feels a pair of arms wrap around him from behind.

“Ah!” he exclaims, jumping forward, but the arms around his middle stay secured. His body freezes, locks up again, the stream of urine stopping abruptly as he stiffens up under the touch, and immediately he misses the relief he’d only just begun to get. His penis throbs, aching in time with his abdomen, and he hisses in pain as the arms around him tighten.

“Alex,” Nadia whines, pressing her front side against his back, molding herself to him. “What’s going on? You were just standing there with your eyes closed.”

“Nadia…” Alex breathes, shifting his weight from foot to foot underwater. He’s uncomfortable, he’s so uncomfortable , seconds away from peeing full-force into the pool again, but he can’t, not with Nadia so close to him.

“Aren’t you having fun?” Nadia asks, and he knows her so well he swears he can hear the pout in her voice. “You seem so stiff, babe. What’s wrong?”

With that, she tightens her hands around his waist, pulling him closer to her body… and subsequently squishing his bladder under her fingers. Alex gasps sharply, curling in on himself and finally letting his hands fly to the front of his swim shorts to hold onto his crotch. Even with the added external pressure, he can feel the water around him growing warm, the pressure on his bladder far too much for him to handle.

“Stop, stop!” he pants, but doesn’t dare push her away. Even if it cost him his own life (or in this case, his dignity) he would never even consider pushing Nadia away. Instead, he shifts his hips from side to side, leaning forward so far his chest touches the water and hooking one leg over the other, bobbing up and down urgently as he does.

Thankfully, Nadia picks up on the problem quickly. She loosens her arms around him, keeping one hand pressed to his chest while the other sifts through the water in front of him. “Oh?” she questions, and this time Alex is sure he can hear mischief in her voice. “What’s this? The water’s all warm over here…”

“I-Is it?” Alex repeats, keeping his hands glued tight to his crotch as he stems off the flow. (It hurts, he’s still so desperate, but now that he’s been caught, it just feels morally wrong to keep going.)

“It is…” With that, Nadia lets her hand trail down to the front of his stomach and pushes down once again, just once. Her other hand comes down to cup over his fingers as his breath hitches and he lets out a short spurt of pee. It takes an immense amount of effort to cut himself off once again, and his bladder protests with a series of agonized pulses, but he refuses to let himself continue to go.

“I see what’s going on,” Nadia says coyly, and Alex thanks the heavens when she removes her hand from his stomach to glide around to his other side. “Alex… You’re being a bad boy, aren’t you? Doing something like that in a public pool?”

“I-I couldn’t help it,” Alex stammers, biting at his lip until it turns red.

“Couldn’t help it?” Nadia repeats teasingly. “Couldn’t help but get all of us in here dirty? The waves are on, you know. That stuff you’re putting in here is gonna spread.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Alex gasps, hooking his knees together and bobbing up and down once again. “I just- I needed to go, and-”

“No, no,” Nadia shushes him, sticking a pool-slick finger to his lips. “No excuses, babe. You’re a grown man, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be able to hold it until you get to the bathroom?”

“But I-”

“Shh… Come on, you know I’m right.”

Alex inhales shakily, his whole body still tense and rigid from desperation. The warmth of his piss has been washed away by the waves at this point, but he can still feel the urine inside of him pushing to get out. “You’re right,” he says, hoping that she’ll leave it at that and finally allow him to finish what he’d started.

“Did you let go completely?” Nadia asks, her gaze dropping to the area just above his swim trunks. “Are you empty now, you little rulebreaker? It certainly doesn’t look like you are.”

“I- I’m not,” Alex admits, his voice going high-pitched as another wave of need overtakes him. He whimpers, clutching his dick tighter between his hands and pressing the front of his left thigh into the back of his right with all the force he can muster. “I still need to go, bad .”

“Well,” Nadia says, sounding all too pleased. “I certainly can’t allow you to keep going here , of all places. You’ll need to make it to the bathroom if you want to finish relieving yourself.”

Alex jerks his head up to meet her gaze, his eyes going wide. “But- But-” he stammers, a protest half-formed in the back of his mind, but one look from Nadia has him biting his tongue instead of continuing his sentence. The game is afoot now, and no matter how much pain and embarrassment it might bring him, he knows he’s going to play along anyway, for her sake.

Still, it doesn’t make the idea of walking to the bathrooms any more appealing. He already feels like he’s on the verge of spurting again, and if he gets out of the water and forces himself to walk normally, he’s sure he’ll have a full-on accident within the next minute.

“Isn’t there any other way?” he asks shakily, staring off in the direction of the restrooms. If he were in his normal condition, it would probably only be a three or four minute walk, but with the ball of hot, acrid piss inside of him controlling his every move, it’ll probably take at least double that to even reach the other side of the park. And what if there’s a line? Is he supposed to stand there and wait when he’s on the brink of pissing himself for all to see?

“Do you see any other bathrooms around here?” Nadia challenges, raising an eyebrow at him. “Come on, come on! The sooner you get out of the pool, the sooner you get to go!”

She grabs him by the arm and pulls him just a tad too roughly towards the shallow exit of the pool, where the water is just beginning to settle down from the waves. Alex reluctantly lets go of his crotch, and immediately lets out a strangled groan as he experiences the effects of gravity on his body for the second time that day. He wonders how the hell it feels exactly the same as it had before he’d “contaminated” the pool, despite how much he must have let out. Is his last beer hitting him already?

“Nadia, can you… slow down a little?” he manages as his girlfriend struts ahead, beads of water dripping down her body from her one-piece swimsuit. Normally, Alex would take this opportunity to stare at the amount of skin she has on show, but he’s too distracted with his own body. Every muscle he has is clenched tight, his arms and legs stiff and rigid, thighs pressed close together with every step. It’s absolute torture, having to walk like there’s nothing wrong, when it’s all he can do not to grab himself and dance around like a little kid.

They’ve made it maybe ten steps, and each one has sent extremely unpleasant vibrations up through his leg and straight into his core, jostling the liquid inside of him each time his foot lands on the ground. He winces, keeping his eyes trained on the floor to avoid any strange looks people might be shooting his way, and attempts to take a larger step to make it to the bathrooms as fast as he possibly can.

His foot lands on a particularly cool puddle of water, and all of a sudden he feels a hot jet of pee squirt out of his dick and onto the floor. He freezes in place, eyes going wide as he draws his legs in quickly and presses his thighs against each other, doing everything he can mentally to keep himself from breaking out into a full-out dance of desperation. Warmth runs down his legs from inside his shorts, and he barely manages to cut off the flow this time, so paralyzed by fear that he can barely get his body to listen to him.

“Nngh… Nadia, ” he hisses, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I can’t…”

He hears footsteps pad back towards him through the shallow puddles on the floor, and then a hand comes to rest gently on his shoulder. “Come on, babe,” Nadia says, half-encouraging, half-commanding. “You can make it. Do it for me, okay?”

“But-”

“I’ll be so happy if you make it all the way,” Nadia says, her hand reaching around to curl at the back of his neck. “Won’t you at least try? Just for me?”

And fuck, if that doesn’t strengthen Alex’s resolve just enough to keep him going despite the raging need overtaking him, he’s not sure that anything will. With a muffled moan, he straightens up from his twisted, bent-in-half posture, takes a few shallow breaths, and opens his eyes. The sight of water flowing all around him does nothing to help his current situation, but he determinedly fixes his eyes on a dry spot on the wall and takes a shaky step forward, ignoring the wetness beginning to cool and become sticky on his legs.

He will make it to the bathroom, if only just to get far enough to wet himself somewhere private. If Nadia asks him to make it, he’s determined to do as she says, no matter if he thinks it’s within his capabilities or not. Even though his bladder is straining out from the waistband of his swim trunks, sending urgent messages increasingly quickly that he needs to let go now , or else. Even if he feels five seconds from exploding on the spot, so filled with beer and water that he isn’t sure how in the world he’s still hanging on. There’s nothing he won’t do for Nadia--he’s sure of that.

Another jet of hot, wet piss escapes him, but he grits his teeth and clenches his sphincter muscles together with a groan that gets lost in the sounds of the waterpark, and cuts it off once again. He can’t help but pause mid-step and shift his hips around in small, quick circles, and wish as hard as he can that he could put pressure on his crotch, even for just a few seconds . Any outside help would be much appreciated at the moment, but he knows if he lets himself grab his dick now, there’s no way he’ll be able to let go without losing the battle entirely. So instead he clenches his fists at his sides and bites down hard on his lip, taking another step towards the bathroom, a step towards release.

“That’s it, baby,” Nadia encourages him, her voice dropping low and smooth as she guides him through the crowd. “Just a little longer, and then you can pee to your heart’s content.”

“Ah… Ahh… ” he pants, eyes fluttering as they pass another section of the park. This one he’d noticed when they first walked in--it’s the kid’s area, complete with a wooden play structure and several buckets that fill to the top before tipping out onto the ground and the children below it. Were he in a better state, he’d compare his bladder to the buckets, as full as it can get and seconds away from wobbling over and spilling all over the ground in a loud rush of warm, sticky urine, coating his legs and his feet and spreading into a huge puddle on the ground.

“ Mmh !” he gasps, catching himself on Nadia’s shoulder as he bends forward. His knees turn inwards, locking together like magnets as he curls an arm protectively around his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tries to rid himself of the mental image. Thinking about relieving himself, wetting himself at that, is a definite no-go right now. His body surely won’t be able to handle thoughts like that while battling a bladder this full.

“You have no idea how good you look right now, Alex,” Nadia says breathlessly, close to his ear. He feels her breath ghost over his cheek warmly, and raises his head just enough so that he can look into her eyes.

I’m doing this for you, he thinks passionately, too unsteady to trust himself to speak. It will all be worth it, when I make you proud…

“Come on,” Nadia says again, lower this time. “Let’s get moving. I want to get there as much as you do, you know.”

It’s a strange sentiment, but Alex can’t bring himself to think much about it right now. Instead he hobbles forward, taking smaller, more delicate steps to keep his bladder from being jostled around too badly. “Okay,” he agrees hoarsely, his voice shaking from want. Nadia smiles at him, secretive and seductive, then turns back around and continues on towards the bathrooms, her hips swaying back and forth as she moves. Alex stumbles after her, keeping one hand wrapped around his stomach. Maybe if he looks sick enough, people will move out of his way and leave him alone, and he’ll be able to get there faster.

They’re maybe a minute’s walk away from the bathrooms now at the rate he’s going. Every step is torture, feeling the slickness of tiny puddles under the pads of his feet, and hearing the rush of water, seeing it splash and flow everywhere he looks, but the look in Nadia’s eyes when she turns to check on him keeps him going. He’s not sure why, but he feels like she’s promising him something, if he can make it all the way there.

He counts the seconds to keep his mind from turning traitor on him, and just when they’ve reached fifty-two, he raises his eyes and almost starts to cry from relief. There, right in front of him, is the sign pointing to the bathrooms, located just around the corner. Finally! he thinks, a smile melting across his face. I can finally go! I’m so close! I just need to round the corner, and then I’ll finally be able to…

Oh.

No.

As he turns the corner, his eyes land upon the men’s bathroom, just a few feet down the hall… And the line that trails out of it. His bladder screams in horror as he takes in the dozen or so boys and men who are waiting patiently for their turn in the bathroom in varying levels of discomfort. He can see a few young boys shifting their wait around awkwardly, and even one or two of the men have uncomfortable grimaces across their faces, but none of them seem to be in the state of pure, anguished distress that’s wracking through him at the moment.

“No…” he whimpers, eyes beginning to water as hope seeps out of him. He’d been so close , so close to relief, to finally being able to empty himself… Now there’s no way he’ll be able to make it into the bathroom with his dignity still intact. And here, far away from the roaring water of the pool, everyone will be able to tell if he lets go and re-wets his swim trunks where he isn’t supposed to.

“Don’t worry,” Nadia says, and then a cool hand is sliding around his arm and pulling him in a different direction. “I have other plans for you, baby. Come with me.”

At peak desperation, Alex has no choice but to follow limply. His eyes light up as he notices where she’s dragging him; he can make out a sign proclaiming Single Stall Family Bathroom further between the walls of the park’s end, and if the little green tag on the door is anything to go by, it must be vacant. His bladder practically gives out the second she throws open the door, his eyes immediately hooked on the toilet in the corner of the room, and he can’t help but reach down to squeeze himself with all his might to keep the flood at bay for just a few seconds longer…

But before he can rush forward and whip himself out, Nadia is closing and locking the door behind him, and immediately pushing herself against him, locking her lips with his as she presses him into the door with a bang . “ Oh ,” Alex moans, eyes fluttering as he clutches himself through his shorts. “ Oh, Nadia, stop… I’m going to wet myself, I’m going to have an accident! ”

“No, you’re not,” Nadia says in a voice that screams sex. “Here, I’ll help you.”

With that, her hand dives down and joins his at his crotch, her fingers brushing up against his penis through the saturated fabric of his shorts, and the sensation of his girlfriend’s hand on him combined with the unbelievably urgency of his bladder is almost too much for him to handle. He lets out a cry of need, louder than he’d ever want to in a public space, and bucks up into her touch frantically, searching for more, more, more .

“Nadia, please,” he begs, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Please, I need… Oh… Ahh!”

“Shh,” Nadia shushes him, her other finger coming up to press against his lips as she continues to fondle him delicately. Her hand slips around his dick, fitting it within her fist as he starts to fill out despite his body’s needs. “I know just what you need, baby. Let me give it to you.”

“ Mh… Ah- Ah! ” Alex moans, surprised to find that he’s actually becoming quite hard. He’s never really tried to get hard while he’s desperate to go before; normally, Nadia has him hold it for her, and then they have sex. He’s also surprised to find that he kind of likes it, the experience of being full to the brim, bursting at the seams, and being touched like this at the same time.

“That’s right,” Nadia coos, then presses her lips to his again, fitting her body flush against his and grinding her leg against his crotch. Alex manages to tear his hand away, if only to get more friction from his girlfriend’s thigh against his cock. He doesn’t even care that there’s a toilet less than five feet away from him… He’s so turned on that the need to pee has come second in his mind’s ranking of what’s important right now.

In fact, he can feel himself start to lose it once again, his bladder rejecting the urine it’s been forced to store for so long. He moans hotly into Nadia’s mouth, and she clenches her fist tight around him, cutting off the stream as soon as she can feel it on her hand.

“Who said you had permission to go yet?” she murmurs seductively, her lips brushing his. “Come on, babe. You know better than that.

“S-Sorry,” Alex pants, eyelids fluttering as Nadia trails her fingers up his body, stopping at his bladder. “Please, no… If you do that, I’ll-”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia whispers, “I’m not that cruel. But I do think you need a punishment for letting go without permission.”

“Wh- What?”

“Hm…” Nadia taps her finger against her chin a few times, before her eyes light up once again. “I know,” she says decisively, and begins to move even closer, pressing her body against his. His hardness slots between her legs perfectly, the insides of her thighs warming the tented fabric of his swimsuit. She must be standing on her toes to get this angle on him, and even through the haze of desperation and arousal, he can’t help but find it cute.

“Wh- What are you d-doing?” he manages, but Nadia doesn’t reply. Her body is molded to his, chest pressed against him, legs squished up against his. Her weight settles lightly on his bladder, and he flinches back further against the door, but she doesn’t put any more pressure on it than she’s putting on the rest of his body. For one holy second, he wonders if he’s safe from her teasing, if maybe his “punishment” isn’t going to be so bad after all.

That’s when he feels the wetness start to collect in his swimsuit.

Alex gasps, his hand flying down to the front of his shorts to clutch himself, cut off the flow of hot, golden piss that’s somehow escaping him--only it’s not . It takes him a second to realize that he isn’t the one who’s peeing; Nadia is. Crushed up against him, with his dick between her legs, she’s the one letting go, getting her fluids all over the floor of the bathroom, and all over him. He lets out a strangled moan as the sound of splattering fills the room, as urine soaks the fabric around his incredibly sensitive penis. His bladder contracts harshly, and he can’t help but add his own little burst of piss into the mix, but being as hard as he is, it’s not as easy for him to let go as it might have been a few minutes ago.

Somehow, despite being the worst kind of torture he could possibly imagine, the idea of Nadia releasing herself onto him is almost… kind of hot, as well. He’s never really been into this kind of stuff the same way that she has, but something about her giving him a punishment for disobeying her command reminds him just how much he wants to please her, to make it up to her. He sucks in ragged breaths of air as she continues to go, pressed against his body so that the urine runs down both of them, and squeezes his eyes tightly shut, biting his lip against the need to relieve himself with her.

It feels like the moment never ends, and yet within half a minute, Nadia’s stream is tapering off, and she’s pulling away from him, using her pointer finger to trace a line down his cock, which is still straining hard inside of his shorts, oversensitive to the touch. He’s pretty sure his erection is the only thing keeping him from losing control of his body entirely, making him needy and desperate in a different way from before.

“Keep going, please ,” he pants, lip caught between his teeth as his eyes flutter open to meet Nadia’s. She smiles at him sweetly, and for a split second he’s sure she’ll indulge him just this once, but instead she steps back a few paces, drawing her hand away from his body and towards her own.

“I would,” she starts coyly, “but where’s the fun in that? I mean, what kind of reward would that be if I didn’t even give you a challenge?”

“ Nadia ,” Alex groans, reaching down to stroke himself without thinking. He’s so hard, so painfully erect, and combined with the fullness and sensitivity of his poor bladder, he’s pretty sure he won’t last another minute without coming or peeing, or both.

“What about this?” Nadia grins wolfishly at him, and he just knows something bad is coming. He can see it in the way her eyes sparkle mischievously, in the curve of her smile. “If you can make it back to the car, I’ll give you something even better than a handjob. You know what I mean?”

She winks, adorable, terrible, and teasing. Alex whimpers as she reaches out to remove his hand from his penis, where he’d been stroking it up and down almost without meaning to. He’s so overstimulated, he feels like he’s going to combust if he doesn’t come soon… But the idea of having sex with Nadia sounds all too tempting in the moment…

“C-Couldn’t we just do it here?” he asks shakily, eyeing the all too inviting toilet over her shoulder. He’s pretty sure he’ll start pissing the second he’s allowed to come, and he’d prefer to have somewhere to go nearby for when that happens. Plus, he really isn’t sure he’d be able to make it to the car--the parking lot is just outside the waterpark entrance, which is on the other side of the park. Walking past all that splashing, flowing water again… He shudders violently just thinking about it.

“Absolutely not,” Nadia says, mock offense in her voice. “There’s not enough privacy here! What if some family is standing outside right now, waiting to use the restroom, and they hear somebody moaning and panting from inside?”

“B-But-”

“It’s either in the car or not at all, Alex,” Nadia tells him firmly. Her voice has that kind of subtle command to it that most people don’t notice, but most people aren’t Alex. He’s had years to learn all about Nadia’s subtly voiced commands, and he’d consider himself an expert on this tone in particular at this point.

He must be absolutely insane, to give up the chance for the release he’s been craving for almost an hour and a half now, just to chase a different kind of release he hadn’t even wanted up until five or ten minutes ago. Any sane person would have kindly declined, let their body decide which need was more important, instead of letting what’s between their legs think for them. But Alex is so incredibly turned on right now, hard and straining visibly through his swim shorts, and every breath makes the fabric brush up against his dick so tantalizingly… He doesn’t think he can handle not taking Nadia up on her offer.

“Okay,” he pants, completely out of breath. His face feels flushed redder than a ripe tomato, and he’s sure he looks like a total wreck, even to people who don’t know he’s seconds away from exploding in more ways than one… But he doesn’t have it in him to care anymore. Even if he has to clutch himself all the way to the car, even if he has to stop every few seconds to dance around like a little child… He’s determined now more than ever to make it through the parking lot, and get his reward.

Nadia draws closer, leaning up on her tiptoes to press her lips against his one last time, before she pulls him away from the door and latches onto the handle, holding it open and swinging herself around to the other side. Alex takes as deep a breath as he can, trying his best not to squish his bladder any further, and casts one long, wistful glance back at the toilet sitting mere feet away from him, practically calling his name. He must be insane… But if there’s anything that sounds better than pissing his need away right now, it’s having the hottest sex of his life with his girlfriend.

With his mind made up, he turns and exits the bathroom once again, his bladder absolutely screaming in protest as he once again denies it the release it craves. He glances down and catches sight of the gentle swell of his bladder poking out from his stomach, as well as the not so subtle tent at the front of his shorts. He grimaces at both sights, hoping no one will pay him much mind as he hobbles out into the passageway behind Nadia. They must seem suspicious, a young couple walking out of a single-stall bathroom together, one with a clear erection and the other with an air of satisfaction about her. It’s crazy that they seem like that before they’ve even had a chance to have sex.

Alex has never been much of an exhibitionist; usually, his logic prevents him from doing anything as risky as this, but he finds that he doesn’t have it in him to care at this very second. Half of his mind is focusing on not coming in his shorts, the tantalizing brush of wet, saturated fabric against his most sensitive area a kind of torture he’s never known before. He’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard before, never needed sex so urgently. He feels the same way actors pretend to feel in cheesy pornos, where they beg and plead for their partners to let them come this very minute , or they’ll simply explode.

The other half of his brain is having relatively similar thoughts, although these are coming from his bursting bladder rather than his raging erection. His mind is occupied with keeping every liquid he can inside of his body, denying himself even the tiniest of leaks. He feels seconds away from losing the battle and flooding the floor around him with warm, golden urine, creating a pool of his own and at last feeling comfortable and empty again. The thought is so tempting that he feels himself spurt, despite his hard on, and has to bite his tongue hard to keep him from gasping out loud.

Uncaring of what anyone else thinks anymore, he shoves a hand into his crotch, squeezing his cock as hard as he can and hooking one leg over the other, making low whimpering sounds in the back of his throat as he tries to regain control. It feels like he’s holding back a literal ocean, and he’s reminded once again of the pints and pints of beer he’d ingested earlier, without ever once considering the desperate state they might leave him in. God, he can’t imagine that there’s even an ounce of space left in his poor, overfilled bladder. What if all of the beer hasn’t made its way inside yet? Can he possibly fit another drop?

He doesn’t ever remember being this desperate before, and there have been plenty of times when he’d lost control from less. Nadia likes to make him hold it at home, although she usually drags him into the shower with his clothes still on before he reaches this level of need. And even before he’d met her, there had been times when he’d been too busy at work or studying to get up and take care of his situation, which had left him feeling plenty full. Still, he doesn’t think he’s been this bursting in his entire life, in all twenty-one years of existence.

“Come on, babe,” Nadia says from above him (he must have hunched over at some point, because she’s usually about a head shorter than he is). “You’ve gotta keep going if you want your reward. Don’t worry, I’ll walk fast. I want to get there, too, you know.”

Alex can’t decide if it would be better for her to walk fast, and get him to the car quicker, or walk slow, and give his overworked body a break. He settles for clamping his mouth shut and hobbling after her, half-bent over and with a hand clutching his penis through his shorts. With every step he takes, the friction from his hand and swimsuit drive him crazy, and he feels tiny drops of urine escape from the head of his dick at the same time. Positively sure he can’t stop them, he settles for clenching his jaw tight and praying that the little dribbles don’t become a stream anytime soon.

They’re almost at the entrance to the park, and Alex is starting to regret letting his dick do the thinking for him. Sure, he’s still incredibly horny, and slipping inside his girlfriend would probably feel like heaven right now, but he’s pretty sure wetting himself in front of a thousand strangers at a kid-friendly waterpark would kill any erection he might have had before.

And oh , is he close to wetting himself. His abdomen feels like it’s been filled to the very top with water, and it’s all racing to get out, filling out his dick both with blood and with a thin stream of pee. He feels a longer jet escape and moans embarrassingly loudly, letting his other hand join his first clutching at his penis as he bobs up and down on one leg. He feels like a little kid, forced to hold it until he has permission to go, with a tiny bladder and a one-track mind. (Well, he supposes he’s a little more evolved than that--he is focusing on both not peeing himself and not coming, after all.)

With his hands between his legs, bent over forwards with his legs locked together at the knees, he presses on. People must be giving him the strangest looks, but he doesn’t pay them any mind, intent on getting to the car and finally taking care of his still raging erection. His eyes focus on the shape of Nadia’s body as she leads him out through the gates and into the massive parking lot, trying to keep his mind off of his bladder and think about his incredibly sexy girlfriend instead.

His foot hits the pavement, and immediately he’s hit with a gust of cold air as his body leaves the walls of the waterpark. Alex feels a full-body shudder and gasps as his bladder contracts sharply, eyes widening as he feels a long, three-second burst of piss explode past his sphincter muscles and re-wet his previously cold bathing suit. His legs, already sticky from half-dried piss, wobble under his body, and he moans once again, clutching himself as tightly as he can to get the flow to stop.

  “Nadia, Nadia !” he whisper-shouts, eyes practically crossing with the power of his desperation. “I need to go, I- I need to pee , now! I- haaah- can’t hold it!”

Nadia turns around, one hand on her hip, looking thoroughly unimpressed, yet he can tell from the spark in her expression that she’s still just as turned on as he is. “What, you can’t make it to the car?” she challenges, raising an eyebrow at him. “We parked so close to the entrance, though. It’s only what, thirty or forty feet away?”

“I can’t ,” Alex cries, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “I- I need to go so bad , I- haah, I have to go!”

Nadia steps forward and reaches down, pressing her own hand against his penis, and Alex moans again, torn between wanting friction and release. “Come on, baby,” she says, her voice low and sultry. “Don’t you want me? You know you can only have me if you make it.”

“I’m trying , b-but I’m so full ,” Alex gasps, panting, eyes rolling up to meet Nadia’s. “ Please, just let me-”

“No,” Nadia says. “You don’t have permission. You can’t go yet.”

With that, she removes her hand with a single upwards stroke, sending Alex’s mind into overdrive once again. Shakily, he takes a step forward, and feels a long gush of pee burst into his shorts and splatter tellingly onto the ground. He takes the shallowest breaths he can, feeling as if anything deeper than a short huff of air will cause him to burst on the spot.

He should have just taken the opportunity he’d had before and pissed in the family restroom when he’d had the chance. Now he’s out in the open, holding himself for dear life and mere seconds away from disaster. He’s not even sure if he’d be able to have sex with Nadia in his current state, no matter how aroused he is. What if he really does piss himself in front of everyone, all the innocent kids and judgemental parents? How will he ever live it down?

He supposes there was a reason why Nadia wanted to come to the furthest waterpark away from them, after all.

Another step sends another burst of pee splashing down onto the ground, and for all that Alex has leaked and spurted, he certainly doesn’t feel any better. He has to pause, bring one leg up off the ground to press his thighs together and bob up and down, shifting his hips this way and that as he makes quiet little panting noises, doing his best not to moan and sob out loud. He’s so full, he’s much too full , and he knows he won’t be able to last much longer at the rate he’s going.

But Nadia wants him to keep going, to push himself further than he has before. She’s fixated on him, he’s sure, even though it might not seem like it right at that moment. He can tell from the little looks she shoots him over her shoulder as he stands behind her and squirms frantically, and he knows the only thing on her mind right now is him.

It’s this thought that motivates him to untwist himself from the human pretzel he’d become and inch forward, trailing after his girlfriend with a string of pathetic, embarrassing whimpers and gasps falling from his lips. He thanks the stars that they actually did park relatively close to the waterpark’s entrance, only a few rows away from the gates. It gives him at least a little peace of mind, that he won’t have to stagger through the entire parking lot with two hands on his dick, vigorously avoiding eye contact with confused children and their scandalized parents as he goes.

He’s panting now, from the strain and effort his body is putting into staying upright, standing normally, and clenching every muscle he has control over. His body is shaking all over from the stress he’s putting it through, and his jaw is clenched so tightly that it hurts, but he hardly notices. All of the focus he has left is spent putting one foot in front of the other, and over, and over again, until he catches sight of the car about twenty feet away, just one row over.

He’s sure now, that he won’t be able to make it through sex. As painfully hard as he still is, the tiny part of his brain that’s still thinking rationally reminds him that he’s still leaking every few seconds, and that the pressure sex would put on his bladder would ultimately be his end. His new goal is to make it to the privacy of his car’s row, where he’ll be hidden between 

Finally! he thinks, relief washing over him all at once. Finally, he’s at the car, the final destination, the last goal for his tired, tortured body to work through. Soon he’ll be there, hidden amongst the tightly packed cars, and he’ll finally have the privacy and time he’s been denied for so long, he’ll finally be able to relax, let go, and let it all out…

It’s the thought of relief after hours of holding in so many pints of beer and glasses of water that ultimately proves to be too much for him, the final straw on the camel’s back--or rather, the last drop to make him overflow. He lets out a startled cry as he feels his muscles weaken for just a second, and a long, forceful stream of piss is suddenly flooding his cupped hands and splattering onto the ground noisily.

“ Ah! ” he gasps, squeezing his dick as tightly as he can and dancing about wildly, lifting his left leg to curl around his right and hunching over as he rotates his hips in frantic little circles, but it’s no use. As soon as he thinks he has the first stream under control, a second, longer spurt re-wets his hands and continues to puddle around him.

“Nadi- nngh, Nadia!” he exclaims, hunching over as more piss splatters onto the ground. “I’m- I can’t h-hold it anymore! Ahh, haah, I have to go!”

“Wait!” Nadia commands, whipping around and darting forward, one hand outstretched like she wants to help but can’t. “Alex, we’re in public. Don’t you want to make it back to the car?”

“I-I can’t ,” Alex sobs, letting out a shuddering breath as his body convulses. He’s too full, too filled, there’s too much water inside of him and it needs to get out now , or he’s going to explode.

He clenches his muscles as tight as he can, cutting off the third stream, and pain spikes through him from his abdomen into his stomach. Gasping, he falters, and urine gushes out of his cock like a faucet’s been turned on. “No, no no no ,” he pants, eyes wide as he crushes his cock between his hands, doing everything he can to stop the flow of pee from coming out. But it’s no use. His body is too tired, too overworked to even entertain the idea of holding it in for another second .

With a final pang of agony, his bladder contracts once again, and this time there’s no stopping the torrent of piss from splashing out of his still hard penis and onto the ground below him. He lets out an absolutely devastating moan of pleasure as his legs give out beneath him, landing on his knees on the rough pavement of the parking lot as urine pours out of him in buckets. The relief he feels is absolutely overwhelming, whiting out his brain and making him forget where he is, forget that people might be looking at him, forget everything that isn’t him focusing on the all-encompassing pleasure wracking his body.

He’s never felt this kind of release before, never experienced something so intense and mind-numbingly good . Even some of the best of his orgasms have never felt as wonderfully pleasurable as this moment, pissing to his heart’s content after over two hours of holding it in. He feels his flagging erection start to grow harder once again as the relief hits him head-on, leaving him loose-limbed and with an almost high feeling as he goes. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers Nadia’s hand on the back of his neck, her hip against his shoulder as she stands in the puddle forming around him, but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes and apologize just yet.

After what must be over a minute of him going and going and going , his stream begins to weaken. Alex sighs, squeezing experimentally to get the last few drops out so he knows he’s completely and blissfully empty, and one by one his senses come back to him. The first thing he feels is rapidly cooling, sticky wetness from the crotch of his shorts all the way down his legs, pooling under his feet as he kneels in his own bodily fluids. The next thing he realizes is that he’s kneeling not only in a puddle of his own piss, but also in the middle of a public parking lot, with families and couples all around to see his shame.

His face flames red as his eyes fly open, and he makes horribly embarrassing eye contact with one or two shocked waterpark goers before his head turns to meet Nadia’s gaze. She’s smiling down at him, looking somewhere between exasperated and pleased, and that expression alone makes up for all of the embarrassment he’s suffering at the moment. She strokes his sweat-damp hair back from his face and bends down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, but she pulls away when he chases after her for more.

“Not yet,” she tells him in the same sultry voice from before. “You’ve been bad, Alex. Bad boys don’t get any rewards, now, do they?”

“N-No,” Alex replies, eyes darting down to meet his own gaze in the reflection of the pool of piss. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I really couldn’t hold it any longer.”

And he really had wanted to please her, too. He’d tried so hard to hold on just for her, to be a good boy and do as she asked him to. He’s disappointed in himself that he couldn’t make it just the littlest bit longer, just to make her happy.

“It’s alright, baby,” Nadia whispers, brushing her fingernails against his cheek. “You’ll just have to try again once we get home, won’t you?”

“Try again?” Alex repeats, perking up just a little bit. Nadia giggles and reaches out a hand to help him to his feet. Cool urine rushes down his legs and he shudders from the feeling, as well as from Nadia’s touch against his chest as he rises.

“It’ll be even better when we’re at home,” she says lowly. “I’ll be able to make you hold it for as long as I want to, and we won’t have to hide from anyone anymore. You’ll be able to squirm and dance and moan as much as you want to… Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Despite the ache in Alex’s abdomen, and the overall bone tiredness throughout his body, he feels his dick react just the littlest bit at her words. His face is still flushed with embarrassment from having an accident in front of so many people, and he’s still sore and exhausted from coming down from such a long, tiring hold, but surprisingly enough, he finds that the scenario she’s describing sounds rather nice.

“Y-Yeah,” he agrees shakily as Nadia leads him to the car, a promise on her face. “Sounds good.”

Now he really can’t wait until they get home.