#but all his shit is wonderful watch it all

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader angst

[dazednmatthews]

for now, let’s get away ~c. sturniolo x reader

drummer!chris x reader au

this took me i’m not kidding three weeks to finish and i still hate the end omfg. i hope yall like it. this was the chris fic i was teasing for fucking ever. this shit is 7.7k words.

this is the second to last thing i have to post before i leave 🥹. all that’s left is the finale to number neighbors (ik i said two more parts but i changed my mind cause the part 15 was pretty much perfect and there’s nothing more for me to do but end it on a funny silly note so). i love u all so much pls tell me what u thinks bout this i worked so fucking hard LOL. okay bye MWAH ENJOYYYYY

there’s lights flashing, smoke billowing through the air and scattered screams floating through the semi-crowded bar. y/n sits with her group of three, nursing a too-strong cocktail, watching the band on stage with interested eyes.

her eyes keep wandering back to the drummer, a long haired, brunette that’s hammering down on his instrument like there’s no tomorrow. she’s already deduced that they’ve got to be siblings, him and the lead, because honestly she thought she was seeing double from the moment her and her friends walked in.

they’re performing a cover of hole in the earth, by deftones, a song that she adores, which is honestly making her shift in her seat slightly. the drummer wears a long sleeved, black and white shirt, red stars on the shoulders. his hair is falling down into his face, which he pushes back in between his parts, causing the light to reflect off of a silver bracelet hanging off his wrist.

y/n’s been staring at him shamelessly the entire performance. he’s hot and talented and she’s a little bit tipsy so her art of subtlety is very much off. not that she cares.

he’d been looking at her too, periodically through the show. she’d caught his eyes more than once, opting for a small smirk and look away, usually to his carbon copy on the mic. it makes him shake his head with a smile every time.

her attention is shifted from the stage when her best friend nudges her. “you and the drummer have been eye fucking since the moment they got up there.” there’s teasing to her tone and y/n just shrugs.

“well, look at him,” she claps when they announce that they’re done for the night and start to thank the crowd. “how could i not?”

her other friend, who’s standing in front of her nods with a dreamy sigh, “you’re so real for that. i think i’ve been staring open mouthed at the singer for like half an hour.”

y/n laughs, looking back at the stage. she’s disappointed to see the band gone, their empty set up the only thing left in their wake. she picks up her drink, finishing it, before calling the bartender over to get another one.

before she can say anything though, a voice cuts through. “whatever she wants, make it two.”

y/n looks up, surprise filling her face. mr drummer man was right beside her, damp hair and wide smile blinding her. she raised an eyebrow before giving her order, then turning in her stool to face him.

“do you typically buy drinks for every girl that’s at your shows?”

he laughs, short and breathy. “only if they look like you do.” he says, leaning forward so she can hear him better. “and if they spend my entire set staring me down with eyes as pretty as yours.”

warmth spreads through her cheeks, but she doesn’t falter. “nice one.” she takes a sip as the drinks are placed in front of them. “wonder how many times you’ve used that one.”

drummer boy leans his elbow on the bar, slotting his body in the space between her and the person in the next seat. “maybe like, six times. but it doesn’t make it less true.”

she laughs, throwing her head back just the tiniest bit. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’ve been told once or twice.” he runs a hand through his hair. “you have no idea.”

y/n feels loopy, between the alcohol in her veins and the warmth in her stomach from his attention, she thinks she might be in for a little bit of trouble here.

“i’m just kidding though. i noticed you pretty much the second i got on stage.” his eyes are so blue it’s freaking her out. in a good way, though. “knew i had to look for you afterwards.”

y/n raises her eyebrow. “oh, you had a plan?”

“of course i did. no way was i letting you walk out of here without talking to you.”

she knows it’s a line, knows his type. the smooth talking, shit-eating grin that could make any girl fall to their knees. part of her wants to ignore him, just for the sake of it. but a much bigger, much more attracted to him, so badly it’s putting crazy thoughts in her head, part of her is incredibly down for the chase.

y/n turns to look at her friends, who are now talking to the rest of the band. she chuckles, seeing her best friend and the lead singer basically pressed up against each other talking, her looking up at him with what y/n knows are the eyes. her other close friend is talking to who she thinks is the guitarist and a new face, who coincidentally looks exactly the other two.

when she turns back to the boy in front of her, she picks up her drink, looking him dead in the eyes. she’s not entirely doing it on purpose, wrapping her glossed lips around the straw slowly, before putting her glass back down on the bar, but she can tell that it takes a toll on him.

drummer boy blows at a breath, moving his eyes from her lips back up to her eyes. “can i know your name now? or do i have to beg?”

he’s slightly closer to her now. she can smell his cologne in the space between them, and now can see the silver dog tag that hangs from his neck. she notices the silver hoop in his right nostril that she didn’t see before. it makes a chill go down her spine.

“hm,” she basically purrs. “you begging me for something has a nice ring to it.”

the smirk in the corner of his mouth widens. “i’ll beg you for anything you want, sweetheart.”

she decides to stop torturing him. “y/n.” she offers him her hand.

he looks down, bigger one enveloping hers immediately. his hand is warm and slightly rough. it makes her shift again. “chris.”

chris, she thinks. of course his name is chris.

“so who’s in the band with you? cause it’s kind of freaking me out how much you look alike.”

he lets her hand go, not without lingering slightly. “my brother matt,” he looks up and laughs. “who is five seconds away from making out with your friend right now, is the lead. nick’s the photographer and does the behind the scenes shit. jack is just our friend.”

she nods, “triplets.”

“yeah, unfortunately.” his eyes are fond. “i’m the best looking one by far though.”

y/n rolls her eyes, ready to humble him through a lie, when all of sudden there’s a shout behind them.

“she said get lost, you fucking loser.” nick says, standing in front of the friend of y/n’s that isn’t attached to matt.

the presumably drunk asshole sneers at him, “i’m sure she can speak for herself, dickhead.”

“i did speak for myself, dumbass.” her friend says, rolling her eyes. “i’m not interested, not even in the slightest. walk away.”

“you’re not all that anyway, bitch.”

matt speaks next, “watch your fucking mouth, bro.”

chris can tell it’s getting out of hand when the guy keeps taking steps forward, matt’s hand on nick’s arm to stop what feels inevitable. y/n’s friend scoffs. “i was ten seconds ago when you thought, for some odd reason, that you could ever approach me.”

the guy doesn’t seem to like that answer or the various insults the group of them keep giving him, so he shoves past nick and gets right in her face.

y/n takes less than three seconds to throw her drink and shove him backward, causing him to stumble into another drunk asshole, which doesn’t end well.

there’s liquor flying everywhere, fists being thrown and all out chaos in the bar, causing security to come bustling through the crowd. people have started to fight just for the hell of it, and now they’ve got to go.

chris grabs y/n’s hand, tugging her towards the back exit. “we’ve got to go, now.” despite the chaos, he’s grinning, and she kinda wants to kiss him.

her eyes find her best friends, shoving through people recklessly. when she gets to them, they’re laughing incredulously at the chaos they’ve all inadvertently caused.

“i think i’m gonna go with chris,” y/n says over the madness.

“you don’t even know him!” her friend replies, eyebrows sky high.

“yeah,” she says, looking back to chris who is urging her forward. “but i think i want to.”

her other friend grins ear to ear, looking back at his brothers. “go. text us wherever you end up. we’re going with them.”

they shout love you’s and go in opposite directions, her friends with the band and her with chris.

he takes her hand as security gets into the main crowd, pulling her through expertly. once they get to the back door they’re running, fast and hard, feet slapping against the pavement.

she can hear their laughter roaring in her ears, can feel both their pulses in her fingertips where her and chris’ hands connect. it’s crazy, her following him blindly.

she couldn’t even pretend to be bothered by it.

***

“i can’t believe i actually just ran from a bar brawl with you,” y/n says, texting her friends to make sure they ended up okay. they told her that they were at a diner right now with the rest of the band, safe and sound.

chris is also texting, his brothers she assumes, before he slides his phone back into his pocket. “i can’t believe you started the bar brawl.”

his face and tone is teasing. she rolls her eyes, nudging his shoulder as they walk side by side down the city streets. “i did not start it. that drunk dick that couldn’t take no for an answer did.”

chris’ hands are in his pockets as he leads her down the road. she thinks, hopes he knows where he’s going. “i know. it’s just funny watching your face twist up.”

they don’t say anything as they continue their path. they’re in what looks like another bar strip, except it’s pretty much deserted. there’s walls with beautiful graffiti next to them, parking meters decorating the sides of the sidewalk. the street lights are on and bright, and occasionally a car will speed down the one way road like a bat out of hell.

y/n pulls her jacket, which she managed to grab off her bar stool before they escaped, around her tighter. december in new jersey was unforgiving, and the short skirt and fur lined tights she had on weren’t doing enough to protect her from the cold. she’s just glad she opted for vans tonight.

she looks over to the man next to her, hands shoved in his front pockets and hair falling into his eyes. chris’ nose and cheeks are dusted pink from the cold air, and she wants to brush it out of his face. so she does.

she stops him in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing his arm. he looks at her quizzically, breathing soft. she reaches up and rakes a hand through the soft, brown locks, positioning it so she could continue to see his eyes. he lips turn upwards.

“where are we going?” she says, her arm falling back to her side.

he nods his head towards a car parked a little bit away. “my car.”

she cocks her head. “why the hell are you parked this far from where you’re performing?”

“we were here earlier,” chris says, walking ahead. she follows. “after we set up at the Phoenix, we came here to get some drinks. too much time to kill led to a round of drunk pool. we ubered to the show.”

she doesn’t know him very well, but she knows it makes sense. “very professional.”

chris unlocks his car, leaning over and opening the passenger door. he leans his forearm on the roof of the car, grinning. “that’s rock and roll baby.”

she scoffs a laugh. “never say that, ever again.”

he laughs too. “yeah, alright.”

once they’re settled in the car, chris hands her the aux. she looks at him, surprised. “you want me to play music?”

he nods. “it’s a good character tester. show me what you got.”

she thinks there’s something more underneath the words. she takes the challenge. “you’re on.”

chris pulls off into the night just as pyramids starts.

***

something y/n had never understood was magnets. sure, they had a specific and concrete explanation, scientifically proven, but it just never really settled in her brain right. the concept of push and pull and attraction to metal was a mystery to her.

she kind of feels like a a stray paper clip right now, though. as chris glides through the streets of jersey she’s encapsulated with the way the fleeting lights ghost over his face, outlining his jaw. he’s got one hand on the wheel and one on the middle console, which makes her wish he’d reach a little further to the flesh of her thigh.

when he parks in the back of a big building that she knows far too well, she’s mystified. “why the hell are we at my childhood rec center right now?”

chris leans forward, looking out the windshield. he shrugs. “i didn’t even know that’s where we were. i was just driving to be honest.”

y/n notices the pull towards him again. cause what a coincidence right?

she unfastens her seatbelt and turns her body towards him, leaning her back against her door. “so what made you wanna be a drummer?”

the question seems to come out of nowhere, to chris at least, but he welcomes it. he copies her movements, facing her as well. his seat is pulled all the way back. “just always loved music. so has matt. my brothers are my best friends, so getting a chance to create music with them seemed like a life i’d always wanna live.”

she loves that answer. makes her heartbeat a little faster. “big softie.”

chris smiles wide, teeth poking out. “kind of.” he fiddles with the steering wheel cover. y/n has noticed that he’s always moving in some capacity. fingers always twitching or drumming on a surface, hands in his hair, cracking his neck— he can never sit still. “what’s your thing?”

she thinks. “don’t know if i have one.”

he tuts. “everyone has a thing.”

her eyes laser focus on his necklace. she’s searching her brain for the best thing to say, but keeps coming up short. there were things she loved, books, movies, art— but there was nothing that really made her feel like she could do it forever. it made her feel boring in comparison.

“i don’t know, really.”

chris looks at her like he’s trying to decode a riddle. she kind of shrinks under the gaze. “i think you’re holding back.” she rolls her eyes, because she doesn’t know what else to do. “but even if that’s true, you’ve got time. nobody has everything figured out.”

the words are comforting, but a little too heavy for the night. what she’s going to do with her life is so not the conversation she wants to be having with the hot drummer she ran away from a bar fight with.

“thank you so much, dr. chris.” he laughs, shaking his head. y/n has a sudden stroke of recklessness genius. she smiles like a cheshire cat, slow growing and completely mesmerizing to the boy across from her.

“what’s with the evil smile? you’re freaking me out.” except he’s lying. he’s quite literally hanging on to her every word.

“let’s go.” she’s climbing over the middle console now, stopping briefly on his lap before reaching for his door. why she just didn’t get out on her side, she doesn’t know. she does. the inexplicable need to be close to him compels her to do it. stupid fucking magnet theory.

before she can grasp it though, chris’s hands plant themselves firmly on her hips. she looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. he just grins up at her, looking peacefully.

“just give me a minute. this is pretty much the view i was imagining the entire show while looking at you.” y/n feels herself pulse at the sentence. “it’s even better than i could’ve ever pictured it.”

“dirty dog,” she teases, but settles down anyway.

“oh come on,” he replies. his hands are wandering the tiniest bit, brushing the curve of her spine. “you’re telling me all your thoughts of me have been perfectly respectable?”

she scoffs in amusement. “you need to be humbled, like immediately. maybe the fame’s going to your head.” she trails her eyes down his chest where their bodies connect. “and there’s no telling which one.”

chris chuckles. “not my style, sugar.”

“oh?” y/n leans down, head above him and hair acting as a curtain around them. “am i your first groupie?”

the smirk that slides on to his face is sweltering. his fingers are rubbing circles into the skin of her back and she forces herself not to shiver at the feeling.

“is that what’s going on here? i thought we were just hanging out.” there’s a sly smile on his mouth, eyes implying less than pure things. he leans up on his elbows, causing his hands to disappear. she misses the touch as soon as it’s gone. there’s barely an inch apart. “looks like i’m not the only one who had a plan. hm?”

she shoves his shoulder, causing him to lay back flat with a laugh. “you’ve bumped your head on one too many tour buses.”

y/n opens the car door, reaching down and grabbing his hand. chris lets her pull him up. he’s still laughing. “what are we doing?”

“being quiet,” she says, leading them to the back door she’d seen almost every night back in her teenage years. “not a word.” she warns.

she’d left her purse in the car, but it doesn’t really matter. pulling a bobby pin from her hair, she gets to work jamming it into the lock and wiggling it around. she can feel chris’ body heat behind her, and the cold air makes her want to sink into it. she’s a woman on a mission though, so she pushes the thought from her head.

she smirks when the lock clicks, like always, and pulls the door open. “lets go.”

the surprise on chris’ face is evident. he’s cautious, looking all around him. “are you insane? we are not breaking into a community center right now.”

y/n leans on the door with her arms across her chest. “scared?”

“very much, yes.” he looks at her with something incredulous in his eyes. “don’t really feel like getting arrested tonight.”

she rolls her eyes. “i promise you this isn’t the first, tenth or hundredth time i’ve done this.” she moves to stand directly in front of him then. “it’s a jersey teen rite of passage. we’ll be fine.”

he looks unsure, but he’d be kidding himself if he thought he could ever say no to her. the way she’s looking at him, with wide, sparkling eyes and plump, glossy red lips stretched into a smile that makes his heart thud. he’s a goner. already.

“fine.” he says, despite his better judgement. “lead the way, miss criminal.”

she just laughs as she pulls him inside. the sound makes him think that everything could go to shit in a matter of minutes, and it would all be worth it.

***

the sounds of their foot steps echo through the abandoned space. y/n leads chris through the darkness with expertise, helping him dodge strewn about chairs and walls that he nearly smacked into several times.

she’s giggling like a mad woman, making chris’ lips freeze in a permanent smile at the sound. when they get to where she wants to be she stops and tells him to close his eyes.

he hears the sound of a switch or two, and when he opens his eyes he’s met with a giant community sized pool and some bleachers in front of it. there’s a couple overhead lights, some benches lining the sides of the pool. it looks exactly like what you’d picture a rec center pool would look like.

the thing that catches his eyes though is the graffiti that paints the walls around him. vibrant colors and designs that are so intricate he can’t even wrap his head around it. he’s in awe. when y/n comes to stand in front of him, he looks from the wall to her still dumbfounded.

“this is fucking sick.” he travels to see the art up close, running his hands along the pictures. there’s a flurry of random images with a distinct style chris could never figure out the name for, but all his eyes and brain can register is that it’s fucking beautiful. “have these always been here?”

y/n is looking at the wall with nostalgia swirling through her irises. “kind of. there were a bunch of random additions over the years and it just became this big piece. heard the artist got caught a bunch of times but nothing could stop them.”

chris scoffs. “um, yeah, if i was this good at anything artistic i’d draw that shit on everything too.”

she laughs, turning to him with a mischievous look. he raises an eyebrow at her, questioning what the look was for. she doesn’t say anything, just leans down and starts taking off her shoes.

chris watches her with raised interest, heartbeat speeding up when she gets to the hem of her shirt. “i’m confused on the signals i’m getting right now.”

she shrugs, “strip.”

and with that she pulls of her top, exposing her deep red bra. chris’ eyes trace the valley of her chest and even though he feels like a dick, he can’t help it. he already thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d seen clothed, so her stripping in front of him wasn’t doing him or the pants he was wearing any favors. not to mention that moment in the car was constantly burning through his brain, making him hear. for her touch.

her skirt is off in the next second, and she’s looking at chris like he’s missing an opportunity. “are you gonna stand there and creep on me or are you gonna take your clothes off?”

he’s snapped out of the trance he was in and sends her a sheepish grin. “i’m still kinda lost on what we’re doing right now.”

y/n walks to him slowly, hair fanning out around her shoulders. chris find his hands itching to bury themselves in it, pulling, grasping or even just playing with it softly. when she’s right in front of him, he looks down at her. the sight nearly knocks him off his feet. she’s peering up at him through her eyelashes, eyes dark and sensual, mouth quirked up in a sinful smile. she brings her hands to the waistband of his cargo pants, toying with the button.

chris is hot all over. he can’t do anything but keep his eyes on her hands, following their every move. she pops the button with ease, “do you want me to do all the work or..?”

chris’ voice is shaky as he blows out a breath. “i mean kind of, yeah.”

“i think you’ve got it under control,” she says, voice like honey. “can you finish for me?”

it should be embarrassing how fast chris steps out of his shoes and shows his pants down to his ankles. he’s hoping his dick isn’t standing straight up because he’d probably try to drown himself.

when he’s down to his boxers, y/n trails a nail up his chest and puts her lips to his ear. “good boy.” he shudders, then questions himself cause what the fuck? but then he mentally shrugs because he knows that anything that fell out of her mouth would turn him on. “i really hope you can swim.”

the words register a second too late, because chris is suddenly submerged in water before he can even think to say anything. he hears y/n’s cackle on the way down, and can feel the break of water as she jumps in after him.

he pushes to the surface with a glare, splashing her as soon as she emerges. “you’re evil,” he says, huffing. “you distracted me.”

she splashes him back with a wide, genuine smile. “you’re a guy. distracting a child would be harder.”

chris rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to lunge at her through the water. she squeals, manically laughing as he chases her around. they spend the next however long slashing each other and trying to dunk each other under water without getting too close to be grabbed.

y/n doesn’t know the last time she felt this good around a guy. the last time she was so allowing to have someone in her space. it makes her stomach turn in a delicious, tantalizing whirl of want.

chris catches her off guard finally, wrapping his arm around her waist as she tries to get away. he pulls her to him and she turns, taking it upon herself to get as close as possible. they’re treading water, looking at each other in the eye.

it feels like they’re having a conversation without saying the words, and y/n is terrified chris can hear her heart beating in the silence. he reaches up, tucking a wet strand behind her ear. the moment is oddly tender. “you’re beautiful.”

he says it so concretely that it makes her stomach (among other places) clench. like there was no room for debate. it’s probably the shyest she’s been all night when she looks down at the distorted sight of their legs underwater.

like a mind reader, chris nudges her burning cheek, making her look up. he’s close as he can be but still giving her space. he searches her eyes for a moment, before he starts to say something. “i-“

y/n is looking at him, waiting for him to finish but ultimately he doesn’t. “fuck it.” is the only thing he says before slotting his lips perfectly over hers.

it’s instantaneous, the way her body suctions itself to his. his right hand is gripping the base of her throat hotly, his other hand in her hip. her hands are in his hair and she’s moved to wrap her legs around his waist.

they’re pulling at each other like they’ve been apart for years. it’s desperate and needy, the way chris trails his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking on any part of skin he can see. the way she tugs roughly at his hair to pull him back up to her lips, like she can’t stand to be away from them for a second.

it’s the hottest thing either of them have literally ever experienced and she strongly believes that she’s about to fuck this man right here, right now.

only, they can’t, because there’s a sudden slam of a door and a jingle of keys. “hey! you can’t be in here!”

they pull apart instantly, and y/n’s eyes widen. “oh shit, we gotta go.”

“what the fuck—“ chris looks like a deer caught in headlights, but y/n has been through this way too many times to let them be caught.

she’s pulling chris’ arm with an iron grip to the side of the wall their clothes are at. “let’s fucking go, chris.”

it takes all of two seconds for him to move with her instead of against her. they pull themselves up the wall as the security guard moves from the open door with haste. y/n can’t help but laugh as chris fumbles around with his shit, almost slipping and falling to the ground.

“is that you, y/n?” the guard says, and she can feel chris’ confusion. she doesn’t stop though, continuing her escape with chris in row. “damn kids.”

“you’re fucking insane,” chris says through his own laugh because well, he can’t fucking believe this night. can’t believe this girl.

“little bit!” she calls over her shoulder as the guard chases them around the border of the pool. they run to the door in the other direction, bursting through to the arctic air.

“oh my fucking god my balls are shriveling up i can feel it.” chris says as they run barefoot, soaking wet and freezing cold.

they make it across the parking lot, all the way to chris’s car by the time the guard is at the back door, throwing their clothes and themselves in haphazardly.

chris shakes as he blasts the heat and slams on the gas. he’s out of the space in record speed, driving on to the main road a little fast until they’re a safe ways away. he looks over at her, and she’s already looking him. they burst out in the most insane, bizarre bout of laughter.

they look ridiculous. wet hair and in their underwear, shaking like falling leaves. it’s comical and unbelievable and they would never want to be anywhere else.

“god i was kidding when i called you a criminal but you really fucking are,” he shakes his head. “he knew your name and everything.”

“hey!” she says, holding her hands up. “there’s not much to do around here. sneaking into here was like a weekly routine when i was in high school.”

“my little jailbird. what the hell am i gonna do with you?” there’s a glint to his eyes and she shivers again, not from the cold.

she ignores the feeling and points up ahead to a small alley. “you’re gonna pull in there so we can put our fucking clothes on. i’m freezing.”

“completely your fault, by the way.”

“blah, blah, blah.” she looks at him while he focuses on the road. the smile that spreads on her lips makes her skin heat. “pull over.”

and he does.

***

it’s a little while later and chris and y/n sit in his backseat, joint being passed between them, now fully clothed.

y/n lays with her back pressed up against the back left door, legs outstretched and wide with chris laying between them. the weight of his ribs on her hips is heavenly, and all she’s been thinking about for the last ten minutes is how it’s not close enough.

her hand is resting at the top of his head, lazily twisting a strand of hair around her finger. chris hums every so often, body slouching down more into her body heat.

“hey,” he says. “tell me something true.”

she takes a long hit, holding the smoke in before exhaling. “i’m high as bones right now.”

they share a giggle, before chris swipes the joint from her fingers. “i said true, not obvious.”

she shrugs, watching the smoke around them swirl. “it’s both, actually.”

he shakes his head, looking up at her from his place on top of her. “seriously.”

she thinks for a minute. there’s one thing she can think of, but for some reason it feels embarrassing. the way chris is looking at her though, completely enthralled with low eyes makes her not care. “that was my graffiti at the pool.”

chris flounders for a second, mouth dropping open in slow motion. he moves slowly, but it feels abrupt. he spins his body so his back is now facing the other door. she misses his body weight already.

“no fucking way?” his eyes are as wide as they could possibly be, considering how intoxicated they both are.

y/n just shrugs, pulling the last hit and leaning forward to place the filter in an old pepsi can in the front seat. “not a big deal.”

chris scoffs incredulously. “not a big deal? not a big deal?” he shakes his head, his mop of hair bouncing. “you lied to me.”

“about what, exactly?”

“i asked you what your thing was. you told me you didn’t have one.” he gives her a pointed look. “that’s a pretty big thing to have.”

“i haven’t done any art in years,” she argues. “so not really my “thing” anymore.”

he won’t let it go and she has no idea why. a couple random pieces she did out of teenage rebellion were so far back in her brain that it wasn’t even a factor. it’s been years since she even drew anything.

“well get back to it,” he says. “cause that’s not the type of thing you just stop doing. you’re fucking incredible, y/n.”

the authenticity in the words makes her shift uncomfortably. she doesn’t know how to take it and she damn sure doesn’t know what to make of him staring at her like she was pablo picasso reincarnated. it was kind of freaking her out.

“yeah, yeah.” she says, because it’s all she can.

“i’m serious. you’re so talented.” he moves his face directly in front of hers. his eyes trace the expanse of her face so delicately, it makes her want to been seen by him always. “so fucking perfect.” he whispers.

the words fill her with a softness she doesn’t think she’s ever felt. he really means it. she can tell by how honest his eyes are and how tightly he’s gripping on to the spot right above her knee. she doesn’t know how to thank him, so she connects their lips as a sign. he takes it immediately. they stay like that for a couple moments, learning the ins and outs of each others mouths, languidly kissing.

then, she’s back to being on top of him, but with a fire igniting in the pit of her stomach. she’s grinding her hips down into him, chasing those pretty noises he makes at the back of his throat. she’s breathing heavily, mewls falling from her lips as he sucks a particularly deep bruise into her neck.

“your pace,” he says through a groan. although it almost physically pains him, he slows her hips. she whines, chasing the friction like a woman on a mission. “whatever you want.”

“what do you want?” like a brat, she removes his hands, rolling her hips sinfully slow. chris almost chokes on his own spit.

“just want you.”

it makes her dizzy, the desperation in his voice. she needs him now. “well you have me,” for the second time tonight, she pops open the button of his pants. she places a searing kiss on his lips, making him chase her own when she parts. “now make it count.”

and he does. so much so that y/n has to remind herself several times during it that this man, this moment— is just for tonight. no matter how much she wants differently to be true.

***

“yeah,” y/n says, disoriented and out of breath. “yeah we’re coming.”

chris snorts from his place in the drivers seat. he puts on his shirt, taking a second to run his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.

“already did. several times.”

y/n punches him in the arm, trying to listen to her best friend rattle the location they ended up at. she hums in reply, not really listening as she watches chris watch her, his hand wandering to the flesh of her thighs.

when he gets a little too close to her underwear she clamps her legs shut, sending him a look. he only smirks in reply.

she pulls the phone away slightly. “you’re insatiable.”

he shrugs. “when it comes to you? yeah.”

y/n hears her best friend gasp. “oh my god. you just got finished fucking!”

she can feel the heat rise to her face. “i’m hanging up now.”

“oh my god, bitch!” y/n heard shuffling, no doubt grabbing the attention of her other friend. “y/n fucked chris.”

she can hear a protesting bleh! that sounds like nick over the phone, before squeals fill her ears. she already knows her friends are very much drunk. “goodbye.”

when she hangs up, she turns and slaps chris on the shoulder. he flinches, but he’s laughing nonetheless. “you idiot.”

“what? like you weren’t gonna tell them?”

“yeah, tomorrow.” she emphasizes. “not tonight when they’re surrounded by your drunk brothers in the middle of a bar!”

“trust me,” he says, toothy grin shining. “nick and matt have heard worse.”

y/n rolls her eyes, “slut.”

chris doesn’t do anything but send her a dirty smirk, turning up the music and backing out of the parking lot they were in, weaving through the streets like he’s lived here all his life.

y/n can feel a dreadful weight settle in her gut, thinking that the night was approaching its end. through the silence she studies chris, wondering what he’s thinking. if he felt the connection between them as much she did. if he was just as unwilling to let it go. when they pull up outside the bar, she can see his brothers and her friends standing and laughing loudly outside, waiting for them. she wants to speak, but she doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. luckily for her, chris has never been one to stay silent for long.

“so.” he says, looking at her with what she thinks is nervousness. “am i gonna have to beg for your number? cause i have no shame. and i will.”

y/n lets out the breath she’d been holding. he felt it too. of course he did.

she outstretches her hand to which he places his phone into. she types in her contact, but before she presses save, she motions him close to her. “come here.”

she snaps the picture of them, cheeks pressed together sweetly and makes it her picture, sending it to herself as well. when she’s finished, chris grips her face in his hand and turns her to him, placing one last kiss to her lips.

it’s slow and intimate, no trace of tongue or the desperate need from before. it feels like a promise or a nudge towards the future. like this couldn’t possibly be the last one.

“text me. or call me. whatever. i’ll answer for you anytime.” he whispers into her mouth. she snaps a mental picture of the moment.

“i will.” she means it.

she gets out the car then, alerting her eccentric friends of her arrival. she gives nick and matt a brief hug as they pass her on the way to chris’ car, thanking them for keeping her friends safe.

she watches them all the way to the car, waving at chris once more as they pull away. she kind of feels like a piece of herself went with him.

“you have to tell us everything.” her best friend says, but y/n is somewhere far away.

“yeah, i will. tomorrow. for now, let’s get you drunk fucks to bed.”

he’s the only thing she can think about the whole way home.

***

eight months later

there’s a distinct difference in atmosphere between this night and then last is all y/n’s thinking as she pushes through the crowd of screaming girls to the back of the venue.

before, it was a lowkey bar with more drunk customers than excited fans. now, there’s people with band tees and signs, nearly passing out as she watches the band throw guitar picks and drumsticks into the crowd. her leather pants are sticking to her tightly, sweat collecting at the small of her back.

she’d gotten matt’s number from her best friend, texted him and told him that she’d be here tonight. chris had no idea, and while she was excited beyond belief to see him, there was a part of her that was riddled with insecurity that he wouldn’t share the same feelings.

they’d texted consistently for a couple months after that night. the odd phone call every few weeks to catch up. it was never awkward, despite how much time had passed. she missed him all the time when he wasn’t around, so every time they talked it felt so comforting she yearned to be in his presence again.

but then they got busy, and consistent texts turned into a random conversation here and there and a call once in a blue moon. the eventually, it turned to nothing at all. she still thought about him all the time, but she her fear held her back from ever reaching out. she assumed he felt the same. well that, and the fact that the guys’ band had found massive success seemingly overnight. she was happy for him, she just hoped there was still room in his memory and his life for her.

y/n paces around the band’s small dressing room while she waits. the anxiety is eating her alive, building a lump in her throat she’s scared won’t ever go away. she’s half a second away from running out of there and never looking back when the door opens.

and in walks chris, shirt off and slung over his shoulder. his hair is drenched with sweat, dark, baggy jeans low on his waist. the emotion that floods her makes her hands shake, so she wrings her hands together to make it stop. doesn’t work one bit.

chris hasn’t seen her yet, but she sees nick and matt in the entry way at the door, smiling and flashing her a thumbs up before they shut the door loudly. chris looks back the door in confusion.

“where the hell—“

“i’ve been stuck in this room for twenty minutes and you still haven’t noticed i’m here. remind me to never try to surprise you ever again.”

chris’ entire body stills. he looks up slowly, hair on his arms standing at full height. when he sees her, his eyes widen three times their normal size. his mouth opens and closes helplessly, so much so y/n can only laugh at him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

chris doesn’t move from his spot. “i feel like i’m looking at one.”

the eye contact they make is sweltering. all of sudden, the thoughts that had been plaguing her for so long fall away. chris walks to her slowly, like he’s afraid she’s gonna disappear if he moves too fast.

“are you really here right now?” he says, voice full of awe. “i feel like i’m going insane right now.”

she chuckles under her breath. “yes, chris. i’m really here right now.”

the sun opens up in that very room in that moment as soon as chris realizes what’s happening, cause he smiles so wide it looks like it might hurt. he closes the space between and hugs her, lifting her body off the ground.

“chris—“

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he questions, pulling back with his hands on her waist. “not that i’m not glad, i’m just fucking flabbergasted by it.”

y/n’s smile matches his. wide and unrelenting. “well,” she says, pulling a folded up flier out of her bag. she hands it to him, motioning for him to open it. “for this.”

chris’ eyes light up as he scans the paper. he looks at her with so much pride it almost knocks her off her feet. “you have an art show.”

“i do.” she nudges his shoulder. “someone told me once that it was my thing.”

chris wants to kiss her. so badly. he hadn’t seen her in months, hadn’t even spoken to her, but he feels that same thrum of electricity in his veins that he did that night. she looks even more beautiful than before. he can’t take it.

“so that’s why you’re in los angeles?” y/n knows the question is bait. she knows and she wants to keep up the calm and collected ruse really bad, except she thinks she might explode if she doesn’t feel her lips in his very soon.

“yeah,” chris’ shoulders shrug the tiniest bit. “that and this band i like was playing tonight. don’t tell anyone, but i kinda have a thing for the drummer.”

they’re moving closer to each other without even realizing it. chris’ hands have righted their grip on her and she’s about an inch from his face.

he smirks. “mm, good choice. i’ve heard he’s the hottest one.”

“biggest ego too.”

they don’t even have to question it. don’t even have to say the words. chris pulls her to him and closes the gap, his lips finding hers after so long. way too long.

y/n can feel how much he missed her in the way he’s holding her so tightly. she hopes she’s pouring the same feelings into this. kissing chris was like coming home after a hard day to your favorite spot on the couch. she never realized just how much she needed it, never knew how much she missed it until she had it again.

“i missed you.” he says, barely pulling away to say it.

“me too.” she says, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

with one final peck to her lips, chris hesitantly pulls himself away from her. “let me pack my shit and then we can get out of here. it’s my turn to show you around.”

y/n watches him move through the room in haste, dropping shit and bumping into chairs out of pure excitement. her heart swells twice in size, eyes sparkling at the thought of the night to come. she knows this time is different. there was no way either of them was going to let go for a second time.

chris sends her a blinding smile while he packs his backpack and she knows, just knows this man is going to be someone special to her. with the way her heart pounds just by looking at him, he already is.

thank god for boys in bands.

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[didhewinkback]

likes to watch

these photos required a blurb out of me sry it took 800 years but heres 4k of smut from the something old universe

---

You flicked off the lights of the ensuite, throwing the towel into the hamper as you headed over to the floor length mirror in the corner of the bedroom, lotion in hand. It’s been a long week, culminating tonight with what felt like the longest work dinner of your life, capped off with desperately needed drinks with the only two coworkers who get it. 

You barely saw Harry all week, two ships passing in the night as you dealt with extensive crises at work and he spent his days doing his unemployed side quests. He had texted you once the show was out, seeing if you wanted him to pick you up on his way back but you were already home by then, hopping in the shower to scrub the corporate small talk away. You tightened the rope on your robe and took a deep breath, more than ready to be in that bed and as far away from this week as possible.

You heard the front door open, immediately followed by his whistling. It was a tune you didn’t recognize but it still brought a smile to your face, the impact the show he just saw had on him seemingly immediate, even if he wasn’t conscious of it. His whistling is almost instantly drowned out by Sammy’s barks, and you can almost picture the scene as you hear it. Him crouching to greet the dog, his “‘s only me, Sammy! Just saw you a couple hours ago mate, ‘m not back from war” before a softer “yeah, yeah I missed you too.”

You place the lotion on the dresser, squirting it into your palm and rubbing it into your face and neck as you listen to him coo at the dog. It’s a few minutes before you hear his footsteps down the hallway, his knuckles on the door as he pushes it open and you look over at him, almost choking on air when you get a sight of him as he leans against the doorway, smiling over at you. 

He looked good. 

The beard and hair both growing in nicely, the mullet look you were tentative about at first really doing wonders on you now. And the fit? 

The fit.  

The blazer over the tight fitted tee, tucked into trousers that made his legs look like they went on for days. You couldn’t help gaping a bit, your eyes roaming up and down as you got a good look. 

“Like the fit?” he asks with a laugh, your grin widening as you lock eyes. 

“Love the fit.” you say, your eyes snagging on the words emblazoned across his chest, squinting as you try to read the lettering. “What’s the shirt say?”

He smirks, keeping his shoulder pressed against the doorframe as he uses his free hand to pull one of the lapels of the jacket open, helping you read the words 'I like to watch'.

You huff a laugh, smirking as you look back at his face, eyes staring back at you with a twinkle, a glint, and not an ounce of shame. 

“Cheeky,” you murmur and if possible, his smirk only deepens, your stomach twisting. You just stand there, staring at each other for a few moments. “You look fucking fit.”

“So do you.” he says, eyes simmering as they sweep slowly down your body.

“Me?” you ask incredulously, looking down at yourself. “I’m wearing your old robe.”

“Meant what I said,” he shrugs, unbothered as he pushes off the doorframe and makes his way over to you. 

His hands come up to frame your face as he leans in to kiss you, stealing a few in rapid succession before pulling away and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You wind your arms around his neck, holding on as he rubs a hand up and down your back, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling back to look at your face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you say, leaning up to kiss him again. “Missed you this week.”

“Me too. You had a long week, huh? How was that dinner?” he asks, snorting a laugh when you make a face. “That bad?”

“Three of us immediately ran to a different pub the second it was over because we so desperately needed to talk shit,” you say, feeling warm down to your toes when he honks out a laugh. “The ballet was good?”

“So good,” he says, pulling a hand from your waist to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek before pressing a kiss there. “Really inspiring. The movement and the music - just the way they use their bodies to tell a story, express an emotion. Made me think about how much I need to stretch.” 

You snort.

“Made me think about more than that, y’ ninny.” he says, pinching your chin between his index finger and thumb when you laugh. “‘M just saying, It really moved me in a way art hasn’t in a while, so I’m excited to see what comes from it.” 

“Mmm, me too,” you say, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “You haven’t called me a ninny since we were, like, 12.”

“Felt right in the moment,” he says with a smirk and you laugh, shaking your head before reaching for the lotion on the dresser and he whines when you move out of his embrace.

“I’m almost done,” you say, “Just be two seconds.”

You lift your leg, resting it on the pouf beside you and you hear his sharp intake of breath when the sides of your robe fall back, revealing the skin of your naked thigh. You go to squirt the lotion onto your hands when his hand clasps around your wrist.  

“Let me do that,” he says quietly, taking the lotion from your hands as he presses a slow, soft kiss to your cheek. 

He sits down on the pouf, looking up at you with a warmth in his eyes, the promise of more. He taps his thigh, before curling his hand around your calf, bringing it up so your foot rests on his thigh, your knee in line with his shoulder. He smooths his hand over your skin, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in to press his lips to your thigh. He closes his eyes, taking a shuddering breath and losing himself in the moment, as he slowly drags his lips up along your skin.  He pulls back after pressing a kiss to your knee, squirting lotion on his hands before working them up your legs, rubbing it into the smooth skin, kneading the muscles. You have to reach out a hand to hold on to his shoulder for support as his hands move up under the robe, before sliding back out. 

He places your foot on the floor and grabs the other, giving it the same treatment, taking his time to kiss up along your inner thigh before he works the lotion into your skin, fingers digging into the muscles until they loosen under his touch. You can’t take your eyes off him, feeling your breath quicken as he moves his hands over your skin, eyes not wavering from yours as he goes higher and higher, just shy of where you suddenly need him the most. 

He smirks when you deflate slightly as he puts your other foot on the ground though he immediately makes up for it by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in between his legs, lips twitching at your sharp intake of breath. He rests his chin on your belly, looking up at you. You bring a hand up to drag through his hair and he leans into the touch, his hands holding you tight before loosening their hold, slowly moving up and down the robe, squeezing as he goes. He presses a kiss to the terry cloth fabric covering you before pulling at the tie, sighing happily when it comes undone, the robe falling open to reveal your naked body underneath. 

He leans in slow, taking his time to kiss along your belly as his beard scratches your skin. His hand slides up to grope at your breast, arousal pooling in your stomach when you feel his tongue dart out against your stomach. He groans when your hand tightens in his hair as he switches hands, bringing one hand to grope at your bum while the other works over your other breast. Christ. You just stand there, practically panting as he makes you melt underneath his hands and mouth, taking his time to suck a mark by your ribs. 

“Missed you so much this week,” he murmurs against your skin. “My hard working girl.” 

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down into this lap and burying his face into your neck, kissing a slow line up your neck.

“Smell so nice,” he murmurs, his hot breath making you squirm, your naked thighs sliding on his trousers. “Feel so soft and warm.”

His lips find their way up your jaw, nose brushing against your temple as he presses a slow kiss to your cheek, his hands slowly moving up and down your body, getting lower with each pass.

“Is this what the ballet inspired then?” you ask, breath catching when his hands knead your bum.

“No, this is all you, darling,” he murmurs against your cheek. “It’s always all you.”

His index finger draws back and forth on your jaw before turning your mouth towards his. He brushes his nose against yours, once, twice, wide grin breaking out when you let out a frustrated whine. His hand cups your face as he presses his lips to yours. It’s been mere minutes since he last kissed you, but it somehow feels like ages, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact before pressing in for more. Your hand sliding up into his hair as his mouth opens, his tongue rolling over yours in a smooth pass, making your thighs clench against his. Each kiss somehow deeper than the last, each of you pouring all you have into every kiss, every swipe of tongue, every lingering press of lips until you’re both gasping for breath. 

“Need to touch you.” He pants against your cheek before taking your mouth again.

“Please - oh.” you gasp against his lips as his hands trail down your body, inching closer and closer to where you’re wet for him before he freezes, stopping suddenly. 

“I - fuck. I’ve still got lotion on my hands.” he says breathlessly. “Trying to be sexy but don’t want to - like if I stick these inside you, I’m gonna give you an infection or summat.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, feeling his stomach shake with laughter as he mutters apologies against your temple.

“Ruined the moment haven’t I?”

“A bit of a dip in the momentum, I’d say” you say and he sputters a laugh.

“Just let me - gonna wash my hands. Just don’t want to - feel like that would be itchy later on down the road.” he says and you groan before laughing again. “Sorry, darling - sorry  - just give me a mo.” 

He kisses you quickly before sliding you off his lap and shuffling to the ensuite as you take a deep breath, the unexpected break making you aware of your racing heart, the ache between your thighs. You can hear the sink and his frantic scrubbing, shaking your head as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, huffing a laugh as you take in the sight, the open robe, the messy hair, the sections of your neck where your skin’s been rubbed raw by his beard. 

You hear the sink turn off, can hear his footsteps making their way back into the room and turn to face him. He stops in his tracks when you look at him, murmuring “wow” before shaking his head slightly and closing the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist once more.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to kill the vibe. But ‘m all clean now, ready to just -” he pauses, jabbing his two fingers in the air, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “get up inside you now.”

“Jesus Christ.” you honk out a laugh as he tightens his hold on you, giggling into your neck. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry” he apologizes through giggles. “Had y’ right where I wanted yeh a few minutes ago, let’s get back to that, yeah? Let me make you feel good.”

He leans in, lips brushing against yours as he mumbles “Back to our regularly scheduled programming” that has you laughing against his mouth. 

“You are so stupid.” you say before he shushes you and quiets you with kisses, pressing his lips to yours firmly before sucking on your bottom lip. He dives back in for more, licking into your mouth slowly, letting you fall back into the rhythm you were in before only this time it's more charged somehow. He’s a man on a mission as he pulls away from your mouth, kissing down your neck, his tongue darting out for a taste. 

“Yeah but y’ love me, right?” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin. “Y’ think I’m funny? That I look nice?”

You hum noncommittally as he pulls you closer, though you find yourself taking in his outfit once more, eyes scanning him from top to bottom, snagging on the parts you like best. When you look back up at him, his eyes are dark, hungry, his jaw clenched as he brings a hand up to cup your face.

“Do y’ have any idea how you look at me when y’ like what I’m wearing?” he says, practically growling, his eyes lit up in the way they get when he’s got his mind set on something, a chill rushing down your spine at the thought of that something being you. “Not even sure if I can describe it…makes me feel like I’m on fire.”

He pinches your chin between his index finger and thumb, holding you in place as he claims your mouth, taking his time to kiss you so thoroughly your head spins.

“Sometimes when I’m, like, nervous about an outfit, I’ll picture your face seeing me in it,” he says when he pulls away. “The way you look at me - the way you devour me with your eyes. Makes me feel like I can do anything. Y’ make me feel so good about myself, the way you want me.”

“I do - I do want you” you say breathlessly, his confession making your heart race, the never ending pattern of his hands and mouth making arousal pool in your stomach. You’re needy and wet -

“Gonna show me?” he murmurs against your mouth, smirking when you nod. “Me too. Gonna show y’ how much I want you. How much I always want you. I always -”

You moan, cutting him off with a hard kiss, your tongue swiping over his in a way that has him groaning into your mouth. You pull him impossibly closer, your hands sliding up his blazer covered arms and over his shoulders, weaving your hand into his hair as you sink deeper into the kiss. 

He pulls away slowly, panting as he kisses your jaw slowly, tongue darting out to taste your skin.

“Turn around,” he mutters lowly, spinning you in his hold until your back is against his chest, his hands splaying across your stomach. You look up to see that you’re both now facing the mirror. 

Oh. 

“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, pulling the robe up and off your shoulders, letting it crumple in a pile at your feet. He pulls your body up against his as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, running his hands up and down your body. His eyes dragging up and down your reflection, feeling like molten lava as they take you in. “God, look at you.”

The momentary instinct to look away from the mirror, to hide from the reflection of your naked body is immediately overpowered by the sight you see, your naked body against him in his suit, his clutches turning white knuckled in desperation as he drags his mouth along your neck, mumbling praise into your skin without ever breaking eye contact with you. Where this should be a vulnerable situation, instead you feel dead sexy. Amost turned inside out with how much you want, how much you need him. You can feel how much he wants you, how he’s already hard for you, just from this. You can see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. And fuck if it’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

Your chest is heaving as he pauses his ministrations, resting his hands on your lower belly before bringing one up to clutch at your jaw, instantly covering your mouth with his. You wind your arm around his neck, hand grasping at the hair at the nape as he groans into your mouth, fingertips sinking into your skin. 

He slides his hand down and you gasp against his mouth as you feel his fingers sliding through your folds.

“Fuck - feel that?” he groans as his fingers lightly circle your clit, your hips twitching towards his touch. “I know, I know. Gonna take care of you, baby.”

He kisses you deeply once more, before pulling away and guiding your head back to face the mirror. 

“But I want you to watch.”

He hooks his chin over your shoulder, dark eyes never wavering from yours as he draws circles on your clit, kissing you on the shoulder when you moan. 

“Yeah - let me hear you,” he groans as he continues to draw circles on your clit, increasing his pressure the more sounds you make. 

Your stomach burns with arousal, feeling a deep ache in between your thighs as he teases his fingers over your entrance before bringing them back up to your clit. He does this over and over, smirking at you in the mirror before you finally break, a whimpered “please” that has him clenching his eyes shut for a moment. Seeing his reaction in the mirror makes you just about lose your mind. You slide your hand up his arm, clutching at the muscles that flex beneath your palm as the fire burns in your belly. 

“‘M right here, baby. I got you.” he murmurs, resting his cheek against your temple, facial hair scratching into your skin as he dips his fingers lower, sliding two fingers into you with ease. “Fuck - all this for me?”

You nod, barely able to swallow back a moan as he works you over with his fingers, fucking them into you deeper before he reaches the spot that makes you cry out. 

“Fuck, H -” 

“That’s it,” he groans, his palm rubbing over your clit as he curls his fingers deeper. You’re practically soaking his hand but can’t bring yourself to care, not when he’s looking at you like that, not when he’s making you feel this good. You can feel your abdomen tighten, knees weakening as he brings you closer and closer to your high. He presses his palm down hard on one particular stroke that has you shutting your eyes and leaning your head back before he tuts. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Want you to look at me when you come.” He smacks a kiss to your temple when you open your eyes. “‘S my girl.”

He doubles down on his efforts and what was once a slow burn is now a raging fire. Your eyes never waver from his as he murmurs endless streams of praise into your ear. You’ve never been so on display and you’ve never felt hotter as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge. You can barely make sense of the sounds you’re making, trying desperately to keep your eyes open, finding yourself transfixed by the way his brow is furrowed in concentration, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes never move from your reflection, sheer determination as he takes you apart. 

Your chest heaves as you try to get a breath in but he’s overwhelming all your senses. You clench down on his fingers and it’s the guttural groan you get in response that sends your right over the edge with a curl of his wrist. You see stars as you come, hand sliding along his jacket sleeve as he mutters praise into your ear, working you through your high until you’re batting his hand away. 

You watch breathlessly as he slides his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth, eyes locking with yours as he sucks, moaning at the taste. You spin in his hold, crashing your lips to his as you wrap your arms around your neck. His hands immediately adjust, big palms squeezing your bum as he kisses you deeper. You slide a hand up into his hair, pulling as he opens his mouth wider and you give as good as you’re getting. You pull your mouth away, moving to kiss along his jaw as you slide a hand down his front, fingers dancing over his pecs before sliding down his abs, smirking when the muscles jolt at your touch.

Without pulling your mouth away from his neck, you unbutton his trousers and slide your hand inside his briefs, sliding your hand along his length, gasping when you feel how hard he is for you. He grunts when you start to stroke him, fingers digging into your skin when you lean up to say in his ear, “Need this inside me.” 

He moans, leaning down to capture your lips with his before walking you backward into the mirror, hand coming up to cradle your head from hitting it. 

“Want it like this,” he mumbles against your mouth, hands coming to squeeze at your hips. “Want y’ against the mirror.”

He spins you around, your chest pressing against the cool glass as he takes a step back and pulls your hips flush against his so that only your hands touch the mirror, your back arching to put you back on complete display, giving you a vantage point of everything. His eyes sear through you as he drags them up and down your form, knuckles clutching and eyes darkening as he visually devours you.

He nudges your heels apart with his foot, spreading you wider as he pulls down his trousers and briefs, just enough to pull himself out. Making no moves to take off any of his clothes. The image alone sends a shiver down your spine.

 You’re so close together, you can feel when he strokes himself a few times, knuckles dragging against your bum. He looks up at you, shaking his head almost in disbelief before leaning in to press kisses along your spine, palms dragging up and down your spine. 

“Look so hot like this,” he mutters, bringing one hand to rest on your hip while the other wraps around his cock, guiding it towards your core. You both moan when he slides the head against your entrance. He taps it against your clit, hand tightening on your hip when you gasp, eyes locking with yours.  “Ready?” 

“Need you.” you moan out and he pushes into you in one swoop, sliding his hand up your back to wrap around your shoulder, pulling you back as he thrusts forward.

“Christ,” he groans, taking it slow as he thrusts into you steadily, letting you get used to the stretch. “Feel so fucking good.” 

You lock eyes in the mirror as you push your hips back, meeting his thrust halfway, brow furrowing as his mouth drops open from the feel. His grip on your shoulder tightens and suddenly, It’s hard and fast instantly, the sound of your skin slapping against each other reverberating through the room. You can’t take your eyes off his reflection. The clench of his jaw, the vein in his neck bulging as he pulls you back onto his cock over and over. 

Your hands slip on the glass with the force of his thrusts, fire licking up your spine at the reflection in front of you. The way his muscles bulge under his clothes, the way his clothes look against your naked body. The way every clash of your hips punches out a sound from him that makes your stomach twist, how a particular circle of your hips has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

“Prettiest thing I’ve seen all night. Love watching you. ” he grunts out, brushing your hair away from your sweaty nape, letting the cool air hit it before wrapping his palm around the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin. “Gonna make me come. Y’close?”

You nod, words failing as each drive of his hips brings you racing to your finish for the second time tonight. 

“Touch yourself for me, baby. C’mon.” he murmurs. “Wanna watch you come on my cock.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than you’re bringing your hand to your clit, rubbing fast circles that have you practically whimpering. He’s muttering encouragement as you struggle to keep your eyes open. His hand slipping from the back of your neck to the front. One squeeze is all it takes for you to come, feeling your walls flutter around his cock as you moan.

“So good for me. Such a good girl.” he grunts, squeezing his hand around your neck once more as he pistons his hips, before moaning lowly, coming hard as you feel him spill inside you, squeezing your neck as he collapses onto your back. He places on hand next to yours on the mirror for support, panting against your head as he catches his breath. His hand not on the wall dragging up and down your spine, pressing kisses to your shoulder as you both come down from your high.

He squeezes your shoulder before pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants as you push off the mirror, turning to face him. You smile at each other, huffing out laughs before he pulls you towards him, cupping a hand under your jaw as he captures your lips in a kiss, tongue smoothing over yours. 

“That was fucking hot,” he murmurs before claiming your mouth again. You hum in agreement, sliding your hand up and into his hair, fingers looping through sweaty strands as you kiss each other deeper. 

The kisses slow, eventually. Your racing hearts returning to their normal pulses, hands grazing each other’s bodies slower until you both pull back. 

“Do you think that’s how everyone else ended their night at the ballet?” you ask and he barks out a loud laugh, eyes crinkling around the edges as he tilts his head back. 

“Reckon so.” he says, pulling you in closer and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I gotta take Sammy out.”

“I’ll come with you,” you say, heart flipping when his grin widens. “Just gimme a sec.”

You kiss him quickly before heading off into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. How well fucked you look. 

You head back out, grabbing an old shirt of his and gym shorts from the dresser, feeling his eyes on you as you quickly get dressed. 

“You’re not going to change?” you ask, looking over at him as he shrugs.  

“My girl likes my fit. Trying to see if I can get lucky twice in one night,” he says, grin widening as he holds open the door for you, hand on your lower back as you make your way down the hallway. He wraps his arm around your waist, slipping his hand up under your t-shirt, splaying his hand against your belly.

And yeah, he probably will.

---

a/n: did not edit this whatsoever needed to get it out in the world bc i had been working on this for so long. and its absolute filth i could not bring myself to read back. lmk what you think !

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

#something old #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #i dont even know what this is it is filthy as hell im worried it sucks #hope u like it lmk what u think #can u believe this is 4K

[rhysdoesstuff]

My thoughts on TUTS Newsies!!!

It’s a long post folks, so here you go:

First of all, holy shit was that show good

Second of all, here are my thoughts about the show, in a mildly unordered manner-

During Carrying the Banner, the top part of Crutchies crutch broke off, so he spent the rest of the song, and a bit into the next scene hobbling around with the broken crutch until he could leave stage and get it fixed (they all did such a great job ignoring it) (I also feel it’s worth mentioning it got broken when Jack used it to beat up the Delaney Brothers)

When the Newsies found out the price of papes was raised, and were trying to figure that out, Wisel kept having to deal with Newsies moving towards the paper station, then backing away, and it was funny to watch him grow more and more frustrated with them all.

During one of the songs, Davey carried Les around on his shoulders for a bit and I loved it!

MEDDA. She is an absolute powerhouse of a singer and I love her. A very Very powerful voice, that I adore and love. Plus her outfits are phenomenal. I love them.

During That’s Rich, there was a man onstage watching it, and every time the name Frank was said, it was said to him, and he had such funny reactions to it all!! 

I don’t know if it was intentional, but when Kathrine went on her tangent about “Like someone said, "power tends to corrupt, and absolute power" she did a little voice, and it sounded a bit like Pulitzer, and now I headcannon Pulitzer saying that to her, and her using those words against him.

During the last few seconds of Santa Fe, as Jack is hitting that final amazing high note, the projection behind him turns from the dreary city streets to a bright and vibrant painting of Santa Fe and a sunset, and it was beautiful, but it was only there a few seconds before blackout and intermission. I loved it though.

Right before King of New York when Davey announced that they “launched the strike in a most auspicious manner” and no one cheers, there was one person who gave a little Hurrah, and that was Mr. Jacobi, who was walking offstage after dropping off the water. It had the audience laughing and I loved it.

Before the Watch What Happens reprise, when Davey asked Jack if what he is painting is Santa Fe, he says Santa Fe in a sing song voice, and he removes his hat as Jack does at the end of Santa Fe, and that was amazing to watch.

Jack, when he is painting during Watch What Happens Reprise, he puts on a red shirt over top of his undershirt. Then he leaves stage and that shirt is never seen again and I’m so confused at why it was there. I loved it, but then he was right back into the amazing blue shirt- so. Yeah.

THE FEMALE BRONX NEWSIE. We love her! I was able to track her through the show, she was in the other group Newsies numbers as well, and was doing an amazing job!

Also, Race. Let’s talk about Race. I absolutely loved him. He was so tall. Taller then everyone else (except maybe Davey, cause he was tall too, though I’m not sure as tall as Race)

In addition, I’m not sure if it was bad shadows, or intentional, but it kinda looked like Race had a black eye? Which would be in character. It’s probably my bad eyesight making it uncertain though. Also! Race’s elbows were all red after the fight. No other Newsies had as noticeable injuries. 

SPOT!!! SPOT AND ROMEO WERE PLAYED BY THE SAME PERSON. They did amazing with both characters, but I spent so long staring at Spot going, wasn’t that Romeo? Until I checked the program and went, Wait, that was actually Romeo! I’m not going insane!!

THE DANCING!!!! They had different choreo from Broadway which I loved. It was wonderful, I loved it so much, and everyone did such a good job. They were doing flips all over the place, and I’m not even sure what I saw half the time, but I know it was good.

The lighting was amazing, and I loved how it was used to set the energy level for each scene!! Also, the projections were beautiful, and paired wonderfully with the amazing set, which was rearrangeable!!!

Pulitzer had a really thick accent, which wasn’t fully New York. I can’t quite place what it was, but whatever it was, it was noticeable, and that made it funnier when Jack mimicked him at one point.

At the very end of the musical, when Jack buys papes and decides to stay, Kathrine buys papes too, and goes to celebrate with the Newsies, and someone puts a newsies hat on her head, which was adorable and which I loved.

#Newsies #tuts newsies #i have more to say but I want to sleep now #I adore this version of newsies #If anyone knows anyone in this version please let them know that I love them all #Jack Kelly #David Jacobs #medda larkin #racetrack higgins #spot conlon

[hey-august]

Hello and welcome to the virgin!buggy brainrot 🤡

WC: ~500 Warnings: NSFW, mdni, virgin!Buggy x GN!reader, mentions of oral -m receiving and of buggy pegging himself, first time sex, insertion sex

Buggy thought he knew what it would be like.

Surely it had to be like that one pity blowjob he received as a young captain trying to make a name for himself. He even had decades of practice by taking advantage of his body’s unique abilities to fuck his own ass.

So Buggy knew how it felt to have his dick in wet, hot warmth. To feel someone else move around him, to feel pressure, constriction, pleasure. He also knew the effort it took to shove, thrust, hump. He was ready to have sex.

But the moment his overly sensitive head touched your entrance, Buggy knew he was screwed. He was in trouble. This was nothing like what he experienced previously. The pirate eased himself in and was terrified.

You weren’t warm - you were hot. Boiling hot. And tight. But soft, so deliciously soft. How did he make it this far into adulthood without this intoxicating feeling?

Buggy had watched his own body accept his length, so why did it look different when it was you? Watching himself disappear inch by inch in you was the best thing he’s ever seen. Wait, second best - the look on your face right now was better. But it was also distracting. He needed to concentrate. Fuck, he was starting to sweat and he had barely started.

Shit, the way you reacted to every little thing he did was wonderful and seriously messed with him. Every sound, twitch, contraction, pulse, even the way you fucking looked at him - it was impossible for him to find a steady tempo. He felt feral and nervous. He wanted to ravage you and bring you pleasure. He wanted to come. But could he even do all that?

Your hand moved fast, working to bring your own bliss. Buggy was enthralled and distraught. He wanted to do that, but he could hardly remember to breathe right now.

And then, you gave him the sweetest gift. A kindness that he didn’t understand at first. You begged for him to come on you. 

“Please, please, please, I want to watch you come on me. I need to feel it on my skin.”

So Buggy pulled out and fisted his slick length. This felt familiar, like a comforting hug. Any snide comments or anxious worries that you stopped him from fucking you were pushed away by the way you writhed underneath him. By the way your eyes darted between his dripping tip and blurred fist, up to his flushed and focused face. By your sinful praises, the way you begged, your decadent moans and groans as you chased a climax that arrived just as his own did.

He might have blacked out. Everything felt so good. Sounded so good. Maybe he died and went to heaven. Although heaven was sticky and damp. As his sweat soaked into the bed and then started to evaporate off his skin, Buggy moved closer to you. Closer to your warmth.

“Next time I wanna come in you.”

“It’s a deal, lover boy.”

Hopefully you didn’t notice how his soft dick tried to twitch when you laughed. What a wonderful sound.

Lover boy…maybe next time Buggy would try to make love to you. He wasn't sure how much it differed from sex, but he wanted to try. He wanted to love you.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut

[campbenji]

*JWCT SPOILERS* very messy first thoughts

OH BOY here we go

-ben and darius's dynamic was epic. the hug. the roadtrip scenes. "is your friend okay?" "no 😊". ben getting darius out of his isolation cabin and darius grounding him in ep2. the parallels with s3ep7. "you kiss your mother with that mouth?" i'm gonna be thinking about that scene for days. their ship is still a swim to me but please they better keep whatever the fuck they have going on in s2 because it's fucking wonderful

-i love that they took the chance to give more light to duos we didn't see much in jwcc. teamups we didn't often see like ben and sammy, THE B-DUO, and darius and sammy got very special moments here

-the amount of pictures/videos from the six years in between??? the brooklynn flashbacks??? we were so well fed

-BRAND!!!!!! i got so happy when i heard him the first episode, he's clearly been checking on his brother and i'm glad he's ok

-bowman family FEAST. brand and darius talking over the phone. the pictures on the cabin. kenji saying he calls mrs. bowman once a week and all the nice things he said about her. the whole mess between kenji and darius. "we're brothers, right?" i died dead. i love this family your honor

-sammy. she's got so much going on and we desperately need to talk about it. i'm so worried about her, she's desperately trying to avoid confronting what happened with brooklynn, with yaz and her own trauma, and then they casually dropped on us that her family isn't speaking to her and never elaborated on that?? sammy, who's love and care for her family was her biggest motivation in jwcc?? i need to know what happened because it must've been big

-mateo!! i liked him a lot, he definitely doesn't want to get into any of this mess but still dabbles around a bit to help the kids, which i respect. also i hope we get to meet his daughter hiraya, she sounds really cool

-MS MICROBANGS (or the handler, or whatever name we're calling her). what is her deal. who is she working for. she's so uncanny, literally almost robotic i need to know more about her

-brookenji over i cheered. don't take this personally i've never been a fan of this ship and a part of me knew they weren't going to last long

-the animation increased in quality so much. the scene after ben, yaz and sammy get out of the sinking van is so well done it's so pretty to look at. and the t-rex with the explosion behind her? it reminds me so much of toro in the tunnels in s1ep8, and i haven't tested this out but i feel like if you put them one next to the other the improvement would be so noticeable.

-also related to the point above: that thing when a character's eyes start filling up with tears but they don't cry just yet? 10/10. chef's fucking kiss

-sure jwct has the same tv-y7 rating as jwcc, but from minute 1 it's obvious it's not the same audience they're talking to. it's not a big change in tone, like for example adventure time/distant lands/fionna and cake, but it's there, you can tell they know it's not little kids watching anymore

-BUMPY IS HAVING A BABY BUMPY IS A MOM NOW they had me shit scared for her and then they pulled a freaking egg my heart was literally pounding. anyways i hope they get both bumpy and the egg somewhere safe and that they name the new anky "speckles" (i've gotten so attached to that name in the last 24 hours it's insane)

-YASAMMY THE QUEENS THAT YOU ARE. their relationship was stellar this season, i was scared when i saw that they were apart but their issues felt organic to their relationship and i just love how they were written in the show, they are still so in love with each other and i can't wait to see where they go next season. they're everything to me

-yeah they were apart for half the season but. benji crumbs. the egg cradle scene. kenji helping ben after he got hit with the stun gun. basically all they did was act like they knew each other but idc. we are so back.

-the brooklynn reveal was... meh?? it could've been more rewarding if they waited until s2 to reveal she's still alive, but at least i hope they take their time before reuniting her with the rest of the camp fam. also i can't believe ppl even guessed what arm she was going to lose y'all have prophetic powers or smth

-bringing daniel back to kill him the same episode was an insane move btw. i would've normally complained but it's all worth it for causing the panic attack scene in ep7. kenji's reaction felt so genuine, i'm forever in awe at how well this show writes grief and trauma

-i'm so conflicted about darius's confession. i like dinostar, but i feel like it wasn't needed for darius to be in love with brooklynn to explain the voicemails and the way he was dealing with her death. she was one of his closest friends, his grief made sense even with them being platonic. on the other hand, i love how he admitted it to kenji and the fact they didn't turn it into a huge fight between them; also, "i didn't know i could even feel that way" aroace/acespec darius truthers never lose

-maybe it's just that i need to rewatch, but i'm lost as to where they're going next season?? i know they're getting on a boat but where does that go?? what are they trying to do?? there's so much happening my head is spinning

-ben... he kind of felt like the comic relief for most of the show, the first episodes showed him as being really paranoid again and struggling with being alone, but halfway through the season they just sort of forgot about it?? idk something was off

-bring back kenji's old latin spanish va idk who this guy is but that is not kenji i can't do this. i'll survive the loss of ryan potter but i won't survive this

anyways yeah i think those are most of my uncooked thoughts, overall i really liked the season, i can't believe we got to see the kids again this is still so unreal to me

#c rambles about jwcc #jwct #jwct spoilers #chaos theory spoilers #jurassic world chaos theory #chaos theory #camp cretaceous

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

The Devil and The Duck

Duck Adam Au

When Adam first realized that he was a duck after waking up in Hell, he was fucking pissed. What kind of bull shit was this?

It took him a while to get around to a pond in a park and realize that maybe it wasn't so bad. No one knew it was him, he could just swim all day, and eat what people gave him. The other ducks didn't seem to mind him.

Then one day Lucifer showed up, he was feeding the ducks when he noticed this yellow one with black and golden little horns. He was bigger than the other ducks. Lucifer didn't know why, but he was drawn to that duck.

Adam was surprised when the King picked him up one day and started taking him to the hotel. "You're so cute, would you like to be our pet duck?"

"Pet!?" Adam said, but the devil only heard a quack as a response and took it as a positive answer.

That was months ago, everyone at the hotel has voted on making Adam their mascot and named him Grumpy die to his demeanor.

You'd be fucking grumpy too in his situation.

Angel and everyone bought him outfits to dress him up in, Adam really loved the sunglasses he had. He looked bitchin.

Everyone loved him as a duck, well, Alastor that fucking asshole tried to eat him from time to time but Adam always got away or was rescued at the last minute.

There were times where Adam would perch himself on Lucifer's hat or he would sleep in the King's hair. It was surprisingly soft and smelled really nice.

Currently he was sharing a slice of pizza with Lucifer, being a duck meant he could only eat so much.

"Dad, should he be eating that?" Charlie asked, she wasn't an expert in ducks but she didn't think they should eat pizza.

Lucifer brushed the comment off. "It's fine Char, he's mainly getting the crust, sauce and a little cheese. No harm done!" Charlie didn't seem so sure. "If it makes him sick I'll take care of it I promise."

"Piss off girlie let me enjoy this." Adam said as he nibbled the pizza, not having to worry about what he said cause no one can understand him was nice. "Let me eat pizza."

Lucifer smiled and patted his feathers which Adam found he oddly liked. "See he likes it." Lucifer picked Adam up and walked back up to his room, Adam, or as Lucifer knew, Grumpy had his own special pillow in Lucifer's room.

Adam settled into his pillow and quacked happily. This was better than the pond.

Adam always knew that Lilith was crazy.

Lucifer changed and crawled into bed. He was looking at the ceiling. "I really miss him Grumpy." So it was one of those nights. Lucifer would tell Grumpy about how much he missed Adam and how he wished he could have saved him and how he was his first love back in Eden and why he chose Lilith was because she threatened to kill Adam. How Lucifer looked out for both his boys when they died and came to Hell.

And so many more things that made Adams heart swell.

Grumpy quacked at him, as if listening. "I hope wherever his soul ended up that it's at peace. He deserves it. I just wish I could have told him how much I love him." Lucifer said sadly, he knew what happened to souls like that. He didn't like to think about it.

He looked at Grumpy who seemed to be watching him. "I'm glad I found you Grumpy. You remind me of him."

Gee I wonder why that is, Adam thought.

Lucifer sighed. "Good night, my Grumpy duck. Sweet dreams." Lucifer leaned over and placed a little kiss on Grumpys beak before snuggling into bed.

Adam felt a tingling sensation in his little body. What was wrong with him?

He gasped when a flash of light took him over, Lucifer gave his own noise of surprise. When the light was gone, Lucifer looked on with wide eyes. "Adam?"

He wasn't an angel or a duck anymore, but a sinner with black and gold horns and red and black wings that looked fluffy like a duck.

Lucifer tried not to look down as Adam was butt ass naked.

"What?" Adam asked and he touched his face. He had fingers! He wasn't a duck anymore! "Holy shit!" Embarrassment settled in when he realized how naked he was. He used his wings to hide himself.

"You're alive?! You were Grumpy? Wait." Ooooh Lucifer told that duck so many feelings and secrets. "Adam, I-"

Adam launched himself at Lucifer and kissed him properly on the mouth. "It's okay Luci, I forgive you. Thank you for everything."

Lucifer swore he was gonna cry from how happy he was. Adam was alive and he forgave him. No better gift. He kissed him again and this time the kiss was longer and deeper. "I'm so glad you're okay."

They snuggled under the covers and talked about everything the last few months. They knew they would have to address everyone in the hotel about the situation.

But that could wait until morning.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #duck adam au

[chronicowboy]

i know it's not gonna happen but i like this spec and i don't have time to write a silly little ficlet about it so. eddie's stood outside bobby's room just watching his chest rise and fall because all his shit doesn't seen quite as bad when he's looking at his captain clinging to life. buck finds him there of course and they stand shoulder to shoulder for a moment because whatever's happening there's nothing quite uniting as grief. and then eddie quiet as anything says "i think she was the love of my life, i just didn't know until it was too late". and buck turns to look at eddie shocked by the raw vulnerability of the confession. but eddie doesn't look back, he just carries on. "and i've been wondering if i'll ever get anything close to that ever again. not to her but to a love like that. a love that feels this big and consuming". and buck tries to reassure him with the gentlest, warmest of "eddie"s but then eddie is looking at him with those wild, pleading, desperate eyes of his and he's still speaking. "buck please just. listen okay. because i think. i think maybe ive been trying to find it for so long that i forgot... that i didn't see that... i didn't realise again. i don't want to be too late this time. please tell me i'm not too late buck." and buck just stands there piecing that together before he finally finally opens his mouth and... bobby flatlines. cue credits.

#sami rambles #☺️☺️☺️☺️ #this isn't going to happen but it would be unbelievably sexy imo #911 spoilers #911 show #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 spec

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hello friend I was wondering if I could request a fourth wing x reader fic with xaden? Maybe where instead of Violet being tortured by varrish its reader? And maybe we see a bit from xadens pov?

Hurts like hell

The pain was like no other. The concept of time had slipped away a long time ago. Your body was sore and stiff. Nor could you distinguish if it was the sound of your blood dripping on the floor or the condensation of the cellar walls. “This could be so much easier, wing leader”, Varrish's venomous voice fills your senses and suddenly you wish you hadn’t blinked. Hadn’t made him aware of your consciousness. “What do you know about the rebellion, girl?”, he takes fistfuls of your hair, yanking your head back. Your angry eyes glare up at him, “Eat. My. Shit”, you hiss through gritted teeth as the back of his hand slams into your cheek. The rings he’s wearing crack the scabbed-up cuts all over again.

And it’s as if he feels it. Every blow. Every cut. Every scream. Xaden had lost the amount of time he had vomited since they had taken you. Or more since you had saved Bodhi’s and Garrick's asses and was taken instead of them. Had he beaten both of them up for it? Yes. And he planned on repeating it once you were back in his arms.

“There’s nowhere else they could be keeping her”, Imogen says, tapping her finger on the map. Everyone had been looking for you for three days now. “Unless he’s usually magic he shouldn’t”, Bodhi adds, making Xaden let out a growl. It was driving him mad knowing that you were taking a beating for his slip-up. They weren’t being careful enough. They weren’t thinking about the consequences when they smuggled such a big load of weapons out. “Tonight. There’s an upper-hand meeting at seven that leech of a man should be there”, he grunts, his shadows drowning his hands in the darkness. “Imogen you will make sure he stays there for as long as possible”, and for the first time, she only nods, because she too can feel that Xaden is on his last straw. “You two will come with me. Fuck knows what they have going on down there”, running a hand through his hair, Xaden watches as both Bodhi and Garrick nod. Hold on, he pleads, just for a bit longer. Because he would kill them all. Burn this whole academy down if you were… and that’s enough to make him go ridge once more. He couldn’t let himself think about it.

His heart is beating so fast and so loudly that he doesn’t even hear his footsteps as they navigate the dark corridors of the dungeons. Checking every nook and cranny. Every room. Every floorboard. Until the metal gates leading to the back cellar catch Xaden’s eyes, and the way his shadows rush to it in a frenzy. His legs step forward before he even realizes it. Breathe hitching in his throat.

“Y/n”, he mutters rushing forward. His hands are shaking so much that he can barely push the hair away from your face, let alone look for the pulse. Face. Barely recognizable face. So cut up and bruised. Drowned in angry purples and blacks. “There’s a pulse”, Xaden’s head snapped to the side, he didn’t even realize that Garrick had followed him in here. “Faint but there”, he clasped Xaden’s shoulder, “But we need to get her out of here”.

And he tries, tries so hard to get the ropes of your wrists but it’s as if his own body is going into an overdrive. “Bodhi, get Xaden out of here”, Garrick orders, freeing your legs, reaching to press his fingers to your neck once more. “No”, Xaden argues, pulling at your hand, “Baby, you need to open your eyes”, he mutters looking at you, “Tell me that you hear me”. But there’s nothing. Just your limp body. Drowning in blood and filth. A firm palm presses against the back of his neck and his head is turned away from you.

“We are getting her out. Do you understand?”, Garrick’s firm words slip past the haze. “You will go with Bodhi because you can’t help out anymore and I will carry her and keep her safe”, and it’s no longer a question. It’s a statement. An order. One that Xaden follows. With Bodhi reassuring with the whole way. Catching one last look at you. Of Garrick carefully scooping you up as he mumbles, “Come on, girly, we need you here. Don’t you give up yet”.

Xaden doesn’t move from your side after Brennon meds your wounds. The Rioroso house was the only place they could think of that was safe for you. But even here his mind doesn’t ease up. It’s been a week and you haven’t shown any signs of waking up. So just like any other night when he came to visit you, he’s carefully running the healing balm into the cuts on your face and arms. Needing to know that he’s doing something. Helping in some way.

And it’s the pain sigh that leaves your lips when his fingers brush over the cut on your temple that has his stalling. “Baby”, he breathes, gaze now fully fixed on your face. His lips brush over your knuckles, “Please, open your eyes. I need to…”, and it’s as if his words coxed you out of your slumber as you blink rapidly. Scared eyes scanned the place.

Xaden leans closer, carefully bringing his fingers through your hair. Trying to soothe you with the feeling of him. “Xaden”, his name on your lips is enough to finally make him crack. He lowers his head onto your shoulder as ugly sobs echo through the room. He knows that he should be strong. To be calmer and colder but he was convinced that he was never gonna hear the sound of your voice ever again. “I’m here, my little fighter”, he sniffles, looking back up at you, “l will never let you hurt like that ever again”.

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x you #xaden riorson imagine #xaden x reader #xaden imagine #xaden fourth wing imagine #xaden fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame imagine #iron flame x reader

[jmdbjk]

Minimoni Music Exchange

Things that got answered:

1. The complete meltdown Namjoon was having up to and following Festa 2022. I talked a little bit about that back in this June 19, 2022 post.

In the past, Namjoon once said being the only one who spoke fluent English meant he was thrust into the frontman position when they began doing interviews and promotions with western media and it made him unsure of himself. He said it was nerve wracking to be required to think on his feet while fielding questions for the group, to speak for the members without actually consulting them before speaking for them and then have to answer these questions coherently and off the cuff in ENGLISH.

As this episode opens Namjoon says he "loves BTS because of the music... but if he had to continue like this he might want to die."

That's a heavy statement. But it is edited with the context left out.

I know this because further into the episode the context around that is included: they all felt the burdens of ALL eyes on them, and at some point they all had to become conscientious of who they were and act accordingly. He loves BTS because of what they do, the music that they bring out to the world. But if he had to care about what everyone else thought, all the people who put pressure on him to be responsible for everything and had to deal with that constantly, he felt he wouldn't be able to withstand that, that he felt he'd want to die.

2. The complete shit-show their military enlistment caused for them. I talked about that in this June 22, 2022 post and here in this Oct. 17, 2022 post.

All of the "MS exemption" stuff was such a waste of time and it really did hurt everyone's feelings, mine, yours, and theirs, backwards and forwards. A truly damned if you do, damned if you don't scenario. I believe Jin was relieved to finally get to the base and begin his service in order to get it behind him. And I'm sure the others knew how he felt about it. And in 15 days Jin will be back! We are about to begin a new Bangtan era: post military.

I watched this MiniMoni Music episode twice, pausing and rewinding both times. Not just to make sure I understood what they were saying to each other but to surround those words, to put context to the words, with the heft of the emotional support and reciprocal gratitude that accompanied the conversation.

And Jimin brings a different perspective than say Yoongi would if it was Yoongi and RM having this conversation like during a Suchwita episode.

I also had to pause a few times to savor that sudden burst of love upon seeing beautiful Jimin.

Jimin listened as Namjoon explained how he second-guessed himself when he delayed enlisting. He was supposed to go with Hobi but then chose to continue working on RPWP.

He totally related to Namjoon declaring himself contradictory in nature.

Namjoon said he had to "turn off BTS" in order to focus on himself. He had to be physically apart from them in order to stop thinking about them as a team and see himself as an individual. And then Jimin revealed that he and the members detected Namjoon's distance and wondered if he was drifting away from them. But they also realized it was part of this era, part of this process they were all going through.

Throughout this episode, Jimin listened to the songs for the first time and offered his thoughts.

Namjoon says he had to get this album out because he believes things have an "expiration date", meaning he needed to get this out of him in order to move on artistically. He had tied his identity to BTS all this time, that he had no idea who RM was, or who Kim Namjoon was.

They then go on talking about when they come back, the return of the pressure of being the leader of BTS and they wonder how their concerts will look then. They throw out the idea of more subunit work. Namjoon says when they are done with their service, he will focus on the team and each of their originality must go into it ... and he feels good about his position as a member of BTS and as RM.

He reiterates whether you are a fan, a casual listener or a hater, everyone is a Right Person or a Wrong Person at times.

Jimin tells him that he, the members and the fans are influenced by the things Namjoon says and that when he's feeling down that they and we will be ok with it.

This is my personal opinion: I disagree with people who keep saying "After they are discharged, I hope they spend a little while enjoying some down time."

Their military service is "downtime" to them. Being their civilian self is down time. Military time was an interruption to them. It disturbed their career's momentum.

The longer they delay getting back to work in their real job the longer it will be for them to be where they ALL said they want to be: on stage.

However, that being said. The break needed to happen. And military service forced the break.

As Joon says: "... and I look up in the sky and see silver cloud, yo hurry!" I think it could be taken as the cloudy, forboding future is unavoidable but can see it will bring necessary and refreshing new challenges and change for the good. It is a healthy way to embrace the unknown.

The timing of filming this episode... was it possible Jimin did not know their enlistment date yet? RM said within 4 weeks he was enlisting. That would put this filming the week of November 13, 2023.

Jimin left Nov. 15 for Budapest, returned on Nov. 18 and then Jimin and Jungkook left together on Nov. 23 to go to Japan. They returned on Nov. 28. JK left again the next day for Los Angeles and returned Dec. 2. That's a lot of traveling for men just days away from enlisting in the military.

They knew this episode would be out six months after RM enlisted on Dec. 11. But possibly they didn't know Jimin and Jungkook's enlistment date yet or they would have said "by the time you are seeing this, we will all be enlisted." Maybe they found out their enlistment date almost immediately following the filming of this episode and the Japan trip and JK's LA trip were crammed into the last few weeks they had. I don't know, I'm just thinking out loud.

My personal take: The more the members say and explain the feelings/intent of what they say, the easier it keeps getting to ignore the solos, mantis, haters, boycotters of BTS and toxic fans. Etcetera. Because they are so foolish. Both Jimin and Namjoon called you all "jerks".

RM's album and whatever we heard he and Jimin speak about, ALL that reinforces that THEY the individual members, have the freedom to do what they want. They are Koreans, they will speak in ways that, inherently due to their culture, will be framed in a way that will be "polite". RM said "fuck you jerk" in his music, not to the camera while addressing the fans and public.

One thing this genre-bending album of Namjoon's also does is help the other members continue to step over all of the pre-conceived ideas/restrictions/lines that idols are not supposed to cross over that people throw at them.

All of their solo efforts will help each of them to be more progressive: Yoongi's smoking in his MV, JK's irreverent singing about fucking every minute of the day, Jimin having female dancers actually touch his body (and male dancers as well), Tae and Jennie.... all of that helps pull us along with them, helps normalize things for us so every baby step is a legit step towards more freedom, more maturity, wider spaces to explore artistically.

And they are fully aware of all these "rules" they are going to step over and move on from.

Revelations:

Namjoon has at least 25 pairs of shoes in his entryway. And the small path through them...

Those high-dollar apartments actually have shoe closets in the entryway.... Namjoon... please.

Things that didn't get answered:

Namjoon secretly a saxophone prodigy? I'm still waiting to learn exactly when did he learn to play the sax?

And Jimin's album coming soon? With a reciprocal MoniMini Music episode? I thought we'd get another hint or acknowledgement of such but we didn't. I noticed this video was not branded Bangtan Episode but linked to RPWP. As has become customary, we wait.

#bts chapter 2 #bts military service #rm x rpwp #namjoon #jimin #minimoni #jin's not gonna know what to do with all this freedom #free jin

[argumentl]

Bar Boo summary - 2024/05/27 Boo's 50th bday

Its Boo's 50th birthday with TTT!

They first talked about going to see COMPLEX at Tokyo Dome together recently. Koji complained Boo took up so much space with his size, that Koji himself was forced to stand sideways to avoid intruding on the next seat.

Kaoru said that it was difficult to see from his seat, due to the people infront, so he ended up pushing the other guys sideways in order to see better, and Duttch ended up stood out in the aisle. Kaoru said 'gomen ne' to Duttch 😌

They talked about Kikkawa's high cymbal kick during the COMPLEX show, and wondered if Koji can recreate it if they get a cymbal ready. They ask Kaoru if Shinya can bring his high cymbal in, and Kaoru said Shinya might actually be watching. Boo adds that Shinya sent him a bday message earlier, and wished him good luck for the broadcast.

Talk of the COMPLEX show takes up the first 30mins.

Boo brings out a board with a list of interesting topics to discuss. The first one is 'Birthday memories'. Boo starts this by explaning how he had a bday countdown party the previous night. He was so drunk he doesn't remember much of the party, but he does remember he was desperate fo the toilet when he got home around 2am. Because he was so drunk, he couldn't find the key to his front door, and ended up fully pissing his pants. Strangely after he got in, he managed to completely clean everything up, despite being so drunk. This also happened to him once in his 20s, and he ended up getting the police to help him get his door open then (with pissed pants).

Koji then tells a story about when he was in LA with Boo, doing modelling work with the company Crimie. They had to share a hotel room, and Koji woke up in the morning to see Boo asleep flat on his back, with his massive belly and impressive morning glory. Koni then tells a similar story about having to share a hotel room with Boo once, and nearly dying from Boo's farting.

Boo asks the others if none of them have ever pissed their pants as adults. Only Tsuyoshi says he has. Duttch says he nearly shit himself when he was in America once, but had to do an 'outside shit' in the bushes in front of someones house instead. Kaoru laughs at this 😆

The next topic on the board is 'Meeting people you admire'. Kaoru says that Dir en grey were once invited bsckstage of a Kyosuke Himuro (vocal of BOØWY) show by an aquaintence while they were in LA. 4 members other than Kyo went, but there were a ton of people hanging around the dressing room door when they got there, so the 4 of them just hung out off to the side. To their surprise, they were called in, and Kaoru was super nervous. Himuro asked Kaoru, 'Are you the vocalist??', and Kaoru had to apologize that the vocalist wasn't with them.

Duttch says that at the recent COMPLEX live, Aiji was kinda playing air guitar to the music, and this reminds Kaoru of what Toshiya had said the day before at the Pierrot talk. Toshiya had said that back in the day, whenever anyone called Aiji on the phone, Aiji would always be playing guitar while on the phone.

Teru from Glay turns up to join Boo on his bday, and the others pretty much go quiet after this. Boo explains to Teru how he met all the TTT members. He first met Kaoru while he was working for MTV. MTV sent him to cover/report on a Dir live, and Boo says that Kaoru and Toshiya recognized him from MTV and made fun of his MTV persona. Kaoru says 'no, thats not how it went', but refused to give his own version of the events when asked by Koji.

Boo ends up crying from emotion a couple of times having all his friends praise him, despite being royally fat shamed for most of it too.

#kaoru #薫 #dir en grey #TTT #barboo #Boo 50th

[captainlondonman]

SKIN COP

It had been a fucking great night. Joss was out with all his skin mates at his favourite pub downing the beers, puffing on the ciggies and his best skin band was playing. All the lads jumping up and down chanting Oi Oi Oi.

‘It don’t get much better than this,’ he thought. ‘Us skins are the best. We know how to enjoy, and fuck everyone else. Shit I’m pissed’ but who cares .’

He stumbled out of the pub and as he walked up the road he needed a good piss. ‘No fucking wonder after all that beer,’ he said to himself

So turning into an alley he unzipped his bleachers and pulled his cock out.

‘Fucking great knob I got.’ he said as he let a steamy stinking bright yellow piss stream out from his cock. As he let rip with the  piss he gave his knob and good shake and was about to stuff it back in his bleachers, probably not having shaken enough so he’d get a good wet patch showing, when he suddenly felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

‘So relieving yourself in a public place are you?’ he heard a deep voice behind him

‘What the fuck.’ he answered trying to spin round to kick the living shit out of the guy but the strong determined hand kept him rooted.

‘Think you are a skin basher eh? I wouldn’t try it if I was you. Doesn’t help to try it on with a police officer. You know what they say about the strong arm of the law.’

‘Now turn around and don’t try anything with those Rangers of  yours.’

Joss turned around to give the copper a murderous look.

He was a good 6’ tall, built like a brick shithouse with police uniform but open neck white shirt showing chest hair, and full HIViz yellow padded protective top. He was wearing his cap but Joss could see he had a shaved head. He looked like a bulldog and Joss quickly decided he was not going to punch the guy.

‘So you think you can pee in a public place and that’s OK?’

‘Christ I was desperate and there was no way I would make it home without pissing all the way down me bleachers.’

‘Well we don’t want your bleachers ruined do we,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I can arrest you and take you in for this.’ he added jangling his handcuffs

‘You’ve got to be bloody joking.’

‘I don’t joke you dirty little skinhead.’ The policeman leant forward putting his face almost up against Joss’s ‘The law is the law and you’ve just broken it.’

‘It was only a piss’

‘Looked to me a bloody long steaming one at that. I was watching you.’

‘Christ so you saw me take my prick out and the whole fucking pee.’

‘I did’

So what are you going to do? Did you get off watching me? Are you taking me in.’

‘Don’t be so fucking cheeky and I’m thinking about it. Its what you deserve but then maybe there is a way out of it that you may prefer.’

‘Thank god so tell me.’

The policeman took hold of Joss’s wrist and thrust his hand into the policeman’s crotch.  Joss’s hand was around the guy’s cock.

‘Fucking hell mate is that your truncheon? And you have a right boner there from seeing me piss. A right fucking bulge.’

Joss let his hand move up and down the shaft stroking it through the black thick fabric.

‘Looks as if you might prefer the alternative, skin boy’

‘Are you being serious?’

‘Well the way you are rubbing my dick makes you look pretty serious so you know what you need to do next and now guide that hand of yours to my zip. It’s either this way or I arrest you.’

Joss knew exactly what he had to do as his cock was now filling up his bleachers and straining at the denim.

‘Fuck what a turn on.’ he thought. ‘Rubbing a coppers prick. And a good big prick at that.’

Joss slowly unzipped the policeman’s fly and let his hand inside.

Christ the guy was wearing no underpants and Joss could feel his dick pushing against the material. The guy had a right boner, a good thick shaft and large cut head. Joss let his hand rub against the cock skin admiring its size

‘Well skin boy, no point of it staying in there. Let me get it out for you.’

Pushing Joss’s eager hand away the policemen put his own hand inside and eased his dick out and as he released it, it sprang up almost vertical, gleaming in the night light.

‘Don’t just stare at it. Get your mouth round it and kneel. I like to see a skin kneeling in front of the police. Not so full of yourself now. Bet you’ve never sucked off a copper before have you. I’m going to love seeing a skin give me a blow job.’

The policeman stood with his legs astride and grabbing Joss’s head pushed him into the kneeling position.

‘Well don’t just look at my big cock, suck it. Let me feel that spit of your over my nice shiny head. I take no prisoners and I want to feel those lips of yours tight against by balls and Hiviz jacket.’

‘Christ,’ thought Joss, ‘I’ve done many things with guys but never sucked off a cop and shit its making feel fucking horny with him in full uniform, cap and all.’

There was no time to think as the cop took hold of Joss��s head and rammed it down his shaft making Joss almost gag but he knew he had to obey and take the full length. The cop was obviously wanting to shoot his load without being seen.

‘Bet you love sucking off a policeman in full kit eh?’ The cop sneered ‘I love a skin in all his macho gear in front of me doing as he is told. Makes me even more horny and tell you what boy you’ve had a few cocks down that throat of yours the way you are gobbling me. You like big dick and mine is just right for you. I love my hands on that shaved head of yours, just like mine, more manly but I am the top here.’

Joss’s mouth was firmly stuck against the cop’s balls and he could feel the padded hiviz jacket against his head. The cop took hold again of Joss’s head and started to manhandle it up and down his shaft.

‘Not such a brave skin now are you, you little shit with a policeman’s cock rammed down your throat. That’s it you little bugger suck it and then you will feel me fill that throat of yours with my spunk.’

Hearing the cop speak like this had Joss’s cock straining and pulsating inside his bleachers. He was so busy sucking and his hands gripping what part of the coppers shaft was not in his mouth that he could not undo his own flies. He was now wound up to a frenzy and wanted every drop the cop could spurt down his throat. Joss started moaning with pure delight

‘I knew you loved cock the moment I saw you take out that prick of yours, that tight arse of yours in your bleachers, made for a fuck even if you think you’re a real tough nut. I love seeing a skin like you work on that thick dick of mine and hearing you moan has me ready to shoot. So take it all you dirty little skin.’

With a final push and ramming his cock as far down Joss’s throat as he could go so that his pubes were rubbing against Joss’s face the cop erupted his spunk.

Feeling the cream speeding all the way down inside him was too much for Joss and with a loud moan his cock exploded inside his bleachers and he felt his cum moving down inside and making a wide wet patch all across his flies. Joss sat back exhausted while the cop stood back and shoved his dripping cock back into his police trousers he looked down at Joss. ‘Don’t know how you are going to hide that getting home but no one will guess you came because you sucked off a cop. You’ve got a lot of spunk there so I guess you enjoy you blow job.

‘For a copper it was fucking great. Hope that’s me off the hook now.’

‘Well not quite, he replied scribbling down a note which he passed to Joss.

‘Follow this and you will be Ok otherwise I know where you hang out and I’ll come after you. Use your jacket to cover that cock of yours you and

wipe my cum of your mouth before you go anywhere. Good night.’

Joss looked at the paper and it gave an address. ‘Be there tomorrow and don’t be late or you will regret it.’

‘Christ what is going on. It looks like a home address. Shit I ain’t going round to any cop’s home. But as he thought about the blow job he had given and his cock started swelling up again. No matter what he felt about going he knew he had to find out. The next evening he found the address and pressed the bell to the house. Joss only had skin gear but he had purposely worn the cum stained bleachers from last night with his oxblood DMs, a black Lonsdale T shirt and of course the bomber jacket He was a skin head so why dress different and anyway that is all he wore. The door opened and the cop was standing there is a T shirt and jeans and bare feet.

‘I knew you would come, so have a beer and loosen up a bit mate. I have an idea. We will start by you taking off all your clothes.’

‘What in front of you?’

‘Yes, in fact there is no asking, I am telling you. Get your bloody clothes off now.’ Even though not in police gear the guy demanded obeying and Joss quickly did as he was told but sat down to unlace his boots and take off his white socks. Almost like an innocent he stood naked with his hands over his cock to hide himself and not knowing what was coming next.

‘Well that wasn’t too bad was it. So now go into the next room and put on the clothes I have laid out for you and then return here. Got it?’

Without replying Joss went into the room and closed the door behind him.

He could not believe what was lying spread out on the bed. It was a full police uniform, his uniform.

‘Fuck whoever thought I’d get into police gear but its gonna to be a bit big but worth the fun. His idea.’

Joss first put on the black socks then the white short sleeved shirt open necked, then the black thick police trousers which had the belt attached with handcuffs, baton and walkie talkie

‘Fuck it’s the real thing.’ Joss said to himself.

Then the shiny heavy soled black boots and the yellow HiViz padded protective jacket. It felt good. Finally the last item, the police cap  which fitted his head and came down low on his forehead. Joss stood in front of the long mirror to stare at his reflection.

‘Fuck it looks bloody great, perhaps a bit big but I look a real cop. I’m the law.’ With the cap set low and his legs apart he started to feel his cock rise and as it hardened down the inside of the trousers he started to feel really horny and in need of some action.

‘God knows what I expect when I open the door but there had better be some sex in this.’

He opened the door and stepped back into the room and suddenly his eyes were out on stalks.

The cop was standing in his full skin gear which was moulded to his body, from the bomber jacket to the T shirt and those bleachers had never seen so much of a thick cock down the denim leg. It looked almost like a third leg, a huge bloody bulge, the bleachers set into his oxblood boots. But the guy was standing there holding Joss’s dirty smelly white socks clenched in his hands, sniffing the rank smell. Not only was he sniffing but he had some of the sock stuffed into his mouth chomping  and was clearly so turned on.

Something suddenly snapped inside Joss’s head

‘What the fuck do you think you are doing you dirty skin’ Joss snorted. ‘You can’t go around getting off on other people’s sock you fucking towrag. I’m telling you as a cop. You will have to pay for this.’

‘Stupid fucking cop you what you gonna do about it?’ I’m a fucking skin, you don’t tell me what to do.’

‘Is that right. You do as I say, I’m the boss here not you.’

‘Aw fuck off.’

And with that Joss took off the handcuffs and like lightening caught the guy’s hand and snapped on the cuffs while he was still clenching the socks.

‘There you are now, a bloody skin in cuffs. Just what all skins should be in. Now get down on your knees scumbag.’

‘Fuck you, you cop.’

‘I said get down or else I’ll take this baton to you. Your choice.’

The guy got down on his knees facing Joss’s police crotch.

‘See this cock of mine, well its bloody bursting inside these trousers and needs a good seeing to and who is best at cock sucking but you, you skinhead. I love skins giving me a blow job.’

Joss undid his flies and pulled out his hard cock straight into the face of the skinhead in front of him.

‘Not a bad bit of meat for you to get down your throat eh.. Let me see you drop a nice load of spit onto my shaft.’

The cop did as he was told and let and mighty gob on allowing Joss to take his hand and rub it up and down the shaft.

‘Now get on with it and let me see that mouth of yours disappear into my balls.’

As the cop opened his mouth wide to take Joss’s thick prick so Joss took one of the booted feet and brought it up sharply between the cop’s legs rubbing it into the bleachers.

‘That cock of yours is sure needing released so why not get it out still with your handcuffs on.’

The cop let down his flies and managed to get both hands down inside and pull out a meaty cock already showing signs of precum from acting out.’

‘Don’t worry too much about that cock of yours, its mine you need to concentrate on.’

Joss took hold of the guy’s head and rammed it fully up to the hilt.

‘That’s it you skin choke of my prick. Get it right down the back of your throat. Suck and suck hard.’

Joss was determined to the skin take all his spunk and was pushing his full length in and out with increasing speed.

‘Why don’t you start on your own cock you shitty little scum. Let me see you wank while you suck me off. Now let me unload in you.  Get ready to swallow all my cum.’

With his hands around the skin’s neck Joss gave a final push forwards to shoot his load down the throat the guy gulping but not quick enough as the cum spilt out his mouth and down his chin. Taking so much cum was too much and still with his handcuffs on his hand gave a final rub and he shot a great arc of cum all over Joss’s policeman trousers.

The two guys stood facing one another.

‘Well are you going to uncuff me now mate?’

‘Tempted not to, but Christ that was a bloody good blow job so OK.’

‘Thought you might like a bit of role play and to know what its like to be a cop and be sucked by a skin.’

‘Bloody amazing. Perhaps I should join the force after this.’

Probably not a good idea mate, you are hot enough being a skinhead. So get your clothes off and now I need to have my trousers cleaned after so much of my own cum over them. Get back into your clothes.

Joss got back into his own gear and had the chance to see the cop standing naked in front of him.

‘Fucking great bod you got there.’

‘Us police all look great. Now get the fuck out and back to you mates.’

Joss’s head was spinning.

‘Fuck sucking off a cop and then having him suck me and what a blow job he gives.’

Next night Joss went to the Skinhead pub but for some reason all his mates were not there, probably gone down to the coast for the binge. He was standing at the bar quietly drinking his pint when he felt that hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need to look round as he knew who that grip belonged to.

‘Fuck me not a cop in here?’

‘No not a cop.’ said this familiar voice

Joss turned to view and it was not the cop , well it was him but he was standing there is full skin gear and not just any gear. He was wearing 22 hole black Rangers that came half way up his massive legs and pair of light bleachers and what a fucking packet he had showing, A Black Fred perry shirt and black A1 jacket

‘Fucking hell mate. Is that your gear?’

What do you think. If you had checked my cupboard you’d have seen it stuffed with skin gear. I don’t usually come here because I am a cop but I knew you might be here so thought it worth the risk and sure enough . So can I get you a pint. By the way no Cop here its Ben.’

‘Shit man sure yes.’

The two started talking the cop or Ben telling him he had been a skin on the quiet for ages. Had always been turned on by boots and bleachers and the fact the guys were all tough and threatening .

As they stood talking Joss was suddenly aware that Ben’s hand had started to unzip the rear zip of his bleachers and little by little as the zip went down so his arse opened up more. Once the zip was nicely down Ben’s finger started playing with his hole. He dipped his finger in the beer and then moved it around Joss’s hole slowly pushing up and moving it around. Joss let his arse move out to be worked on a bit more and he responded by letting his hand move down to Ben’s crotch. As he moved his hand over the lump so he could feel it responding and grow rapidly in his hand.

‘Fucking hell man you know how to turn a skin on.’

‘Don’t know about you but my cock is throbbing having my finger up your hole and like it or not but I really need a good fuck now.’

‘Tell you what that’s two of us. Knowing that big cock of yours and now feeling it full size in my hand I want that up me big time.’

‘Then let’s get into that alley before I explode my cum into my bleachers’. The two guys virtually raced out of the pub and down the side alley, Ben keeping a firm hand on Joss’s arse.

Once up the alley Ben pushed Joss up against the wall.

‘Fuck man I need to get my cock up that arse of yours so let’s not muck around

Put your hands up against the wall and stick that nice meaty arse of your out. While you are at it you’d better unzip that cock of yours and get it out cause my hand is going to be round that shaft of yours.’

Ben took hold of the rear of the bleachers and pulled Joss’s cheeks wide.

‘Nice hole you have mate. Just ripe for a skin’s cock and a nice big cock at that.’

The cop unzipped himself and pulled out the fully erect prick that was half way down his bleachers.

‘Fuck man I already have a nice bit of precum on my head. Just needs a good drop of my spit to be ready for you.’

Ben let a large gob drop onto his prick and rubbed it to cover the entire shaft.

‘Jesus am I throbbing or what. Now get those legs of yours apart and keep your hands up. This is a skin fucking you now.’

Ben eased his cock in line with Joss’s hole and started to push

‘Stick your fucking arse out to take it mate.’

As Joss pushed his arse out so the cops cock slid in further and further until joss could him the whole way in and feel the cops balls pushing against him.

‘That’s it boy feel this thick cock of mine all the way up you. Let’s see what you are like.’

And with that the cop took his hand and brought it out onto Joss’s cock working his way down the shaft until he came to the raw head.

‘I’m not the only one with some precum. I can feel that cock of yours throbbing and ready to cum once my spunk gets all the way up you. Let me give you a good rub. Like me wanking you boy whilst I fuck.’

‘Shit man having you fuck me as a skin is even better than you being the cop. I only get fucked by skins and you are one of the best.’

‘Right let me ride you now.’

The cop skin started to move his cock up and down Joss’s arsehole, slowly at first and increasing as his breathing became faster.

‘That’s it boy keep your arse out and let me fuck you. I want you to cum all over the wall and leave your mark.’

The more the cop fucked the more he wanked Joss.

‘I’m ready now to explode so take all my spunk, my balls are heavy with all I have for you. Once more push and it’s all yours.’

Hearing the cop shout to him and have his breathing hard into his neck was too much for Joss and he shouted

‘I’m fucking cumming man.’

‘Yeah me too take it boy take my spunk’

The two shot their load at the same time one against the brick wall and the other roaring up Joss’s arse.

The cop sank against Joss’s back

‘I fucking needed that. Having a blow job is one thing but Christ I really wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you.’

‘Tell you what mate when you stood naked in front of me the other day I wanted that cock of your all the way up and you don’t disappoint.’

As they zipped up Joss turned and said.

‘You are one thing as a cop but I prefer you as a skin like me.’

‘Then Skin it is from now on, but you and me are now fuck buddies got that.’

‘Suits me.’

[martellspear]

it bothers us because you have delusions that martell princess who was raped but nobody except her family was bothered by it cause she was so irrelevant suddenly should matter more than Jon Targaryen's parents who according to canon 'he loved her she loved him' and their love brought about the birth of the prince who was promised

suck on it irrelevant ugly woman stans and you have the gall to compare princess viserra to her when viserra was million more beautiful than the dornish scum and her ill spawn could ever be

Jon WHO? LMAO. I wasn't going to post this - my moots & followers don’t deserve to read this shit -  but it made me laugh more than the others

Rhaegar chose Lyanna, I agree.... but it was to die. Do you think he wouldn't have taken here somewhere safer and with more people to ensure > her < safety during childbirth if he wanted to? Please.

He could've let Elia die in a third pregnancy and be free from her and marriage duties. The thing is that the moment he found out it might happen he went "no❤️".

Also, I'd be embarrassed to use the show as source. Especially if my pRoMisEd pRiNcE's end was that one.

'Ugly woman' and that's her:

"The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty."

I can't believe you're so obsessed to the point of seeing posts I don't tag😭. Go use that time to read the books, they're fun.

On a more serious note [tw: rape]:

You are disgusting. Do you know how hard someone has to try to be worse than some ASOIAF men?

‘In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands.’

That’s what you are mocking. I don’t care that she’s a fictional character, what you and your rabble say about her is truly sickening, it’s heartbreaking that you get to vote.

Someone who’s not from her family and cares a lot about what happened is Ned. I’m sorry if his own sister’s death didn’t influence his non-Jon decisions but Elia’s did.

Thus, one of the reasons he gives Cersei the chance to escape is his memory of Elia and her children's bodies presented to Robert and his reaction, you can’t even deny how much it affected him.

‘Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage [...]’

A few other quotes: 

‘Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.’

"Cersei is frightened of you, my lord … but she has other enemies she fears even more. [...] In Dorne, the Martells still brood on the murder of Princess Elia and her babes.

‘Some nights, Ser Barristan wondered if he had not done that duty too well [...] m. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, everyone, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them.’

‘The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children [...]’

I know you can’t relate but Elia was loved. It wouldn’t matter if ‘only her family’ cared, what happened to her was brutal and nothing changes it. You people just come off as rude, uneducated and ignorant. 

Fun fact: the name 'Elia' is mentioned 75 times throughout the series, 'Lyanna' 53 and 'Rhaegar', thanks to Dany, 258

#i'm sorry but i'm going to tag because jon targaryen is GOLD #at this point it's probably just a closeted elia stan trying to make us laugh i swear #elia martell #tw: rape

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 42

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sex (feat. Wire), mentions of murder

Open Doors

The next few days were... easy. That was the only way to describe them. After Kid had helped you remove the bullets, which took all of 10 minutes, you went about your daily chores, getting a lot of compliments on your new accessory, Killer especially seemed invested in it. You spent time with the girls, performing the sacred rituals: painting nails, face masks, gossiping, giving each other hair trims, even waxing each other. Heat joined in for everything but the last bit, even though it was mostly eyebrows and armpits. You sat in silence with Wire, mending nets. It was nice. There was no need to talk. You gave Mini a bath, having to borrow a swimsuit from someone which was a hair too small for you. She was too big for the bathroom so you were forced to do it on the deck. It was about halfway through when you noticed Kid had pulled up a chair, feet kicked up, with a beer in his hand, to enjoy the show. Others did the same, though they were far more discreet about it. Heat had been inspecting the same knot in the rigging for 20 minutes. In the mornings, you and Killer would have coffee together on the bow and watch the sunrise before making breakfast. Some days breakfast was late, much to Kid's chagrin, because Killer ate first. Telling Kid that "pussy was the most important meal of the day" was definitely what some would call a mistake. You had to flee several times to a more private place, because Kid had no qualms about laying you flat on the dining table. 

Lately, Kid had been coming to the infirmary a lot. A smashed finger here, a stubbed toe there, and he had an awful lot of inexplicable aches and pains. Then afterwards, he would linger and ask what you had done with your day or some other dumb shit like what your favorite things were. You hated the way you looked forward to his stupid smirk showing up on your doorstep. Every time he showed up, he would make the tag on your collar jingle to announce his presence instead of knocking. Sometimes you looked up for him when it jingled on its own, a conditioned response that you hated.

It was another night where you couldn't sleep, plagued by thoughts of the future. You were in the infirmary, trying to figure out what to do, even though you really didn't want to think about it at all. You found yourself staring at the place in the wall where the Big Fucking Hole used to be, a bit ashamed to admit that you missed it and all of Kid's silly antics. You went to the wall and put a hand on it. It glowed a soft yellow as a door manifested in that space. Part of it was metal, so that he could open it if he wanted, but there was a different non-metal lock on it, so that he couldn't open it if patients were in the room or you needed privacy. It was the type of door that rolled on a track, so that it would be completely out of the way when it was open. You weren't going to tell Kid about it, wondering how long it would take him to notice on his own. You didn't want to answer any questions about why you did it in the first place, because you didn't really know yourself. 

Later in the day, as you were helping make repairs to the ship with Reck and Pomp, Kid came barreling from around the corner, out of nowhere, yelling for you. You were alarmed, thinking something bad had happened. Kid skidded behind you, crouching to hide, with something in his hand. 

"Ya gotta protect me, Rottie!" There was a shake to his voice that sounded scared, but it was really him trying not to laugh.

You had your gun drawn and pointed where Kid had come from in half a second. Unlike the others, you actually listened and acted accordingly, only because Kid sounded serious, at least to your ears. Before Kid could tell you they were just fooling around, Heat came face to face with your barrel, well more like chest-level, since he was much bigger than you. Your trigger finger twitched, but thankfully didn't pull, recognizing Heat, who had jumped back. You let your breath out and holstered your weapon, with an apologetic look at Heat, who was beyond pissed.

"KID! I swear I'll kill you. Give it back!"

"Insubordination! Get him, doll!" Kid pointed at Heat from behind you.

It was hard not to laugh, when a huge, menacing beast was attempting to hide behind your much smaller frame. Kid knew Heat wouldn't lay a finger on you, but he would light Kid's ass up in a second. You were confused.

"I'm not fighting Heat to protect your ass." You looked over your shoulder at him. "What did you do? Give what back?"

"Kid, please. I'm begging you," Heat pleaded. "I'll give you my dessert for a month."

Kid pretended to think. "Mmm not good enough."

"I'll... do that thing you like."

Kid paused decidedly longer at that. "Tempting."

You snatched the paper from Kid's hand while he was distracted. You were about to hand it to Heat without looking at it, but realized it looked like a wanted poster. It was your wanted poster. It was... altered. You bit your lip to keep from smiling. 

"Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't know one day you'd be on the ship. Please don't hate me." 

Kid had made good on his internal promise to show you Heat's self-made pin-up of you. Wire and Killer were interested in what was going on, Wire more so because he caught a glance of your gun in Heat's direction, Killer because he knew Kid was being mischievous. 

"I don't know, Heat..." You teased. "I'm pretty upset." The poster was expertly combined with pictures from some racy magazine to make it look like you were totally naked on it. "Did you really think my boobs would be that small?" The model was fairly small-framed and petite. "I've got a bit more meat to me I think." 

It was Heat's turn to be confused. "You're not mad?" 

You shrugged. "It's kind of cute that you have a little celebrity crush on me." You handed it back to him. "Fix it, though. It's completely inaccurate." You stood on your tiptoes to reach Heat's ear. "And that's an order," you purred. You must have guessed his kink right, because when you came away, his face was red and he had a big grin on his face.

"Yes, Cap- Ma'am." Heat corrected himself so he didn't disrespect Kid, but he wasn't opposed to calling you "Captain" behind closed doors, in fact, he would be thrilled. He rushed away with his artwork before he could develop a raging boner in front of everyone. 

"I told him ya wouldn't be mad." Kid stated. 

"Kid! What if I had shot him!?" 

"Ya didn't." A smirk moved to grace Kid's features. "Now who's the guard dog," he said, flicking the tag on your collar.

"Whatever. Next time, I'll let you be incinerated." You walked away from Kid, catching Pomp, Reck, Killer, and Wire staring with amusement. "And what are you bozos looking at? Get back to work." 

Killer and Wire exchanged looks. "Bozos?" 

"Wait. Hang on. I didn't mean you." You glanced at Kid, contemplating switching roles and hiding behind him, but were too proud. It was too late. They had that look on their faces. 

"Better get ta runnin, doll," Kid chuckled.

You barely got two steps before you were slung over Killer's shoulder, Wire smirking down at you walking behind Killer. "You're just gonna let Smallest and Tallest steal me like this? I have work to do!" 

"Yer dismissed for the day." There wasn't much else to do anyway.

Several hours later, you were facedown in a pillow soaked with sweat and drool and tears, trying to muffle your screaming. It felt like your cervix was in a boxing match, and losing, with Wire's huge cock. You were sticky and sweaty, drying fluids on your back and thighs. Your thighs were going to give out from holding your body up for so long. They were shaking even though Wire was supporting most of your body. He and Killer made you climax so many times you lost count. At this point you were begging them to let you rest. Both sets of lips were swollen, from kissing or fucking depending on which ones. Your fingers were curled into the sheets so hard you thought your nails would put holes in them. 

"You're taking Wire so well." Killer was petting your hair, gently tugging it to pull your face from the pillow. "We want to hear you though."

"If we can't hear you, you're gonna have to do it all over again."

You whined. "I can't take much m-more." 

"You talked such a big game and now you're trying to tap out? That's too bad." Wire brought a hand down on your ass. "You're done when I say so." He grunted as your cunt clenched around him. 

"You can do it, darlin." Killer rubbed your back. He was done, throughly satisfied after taking turns fucking your pussy with Wire. You wanted them both at the same time, but Wire didn't think you were ready for that yet. Killer agreed. They were always the two that held back. Heat and Kid were all for whatever you wanted to do and barely ever told you no. 

"F-fuck." The muscles in your body tensed. You were so close, yet reluctant. 

"Come on then. Finish on this cock so I can give you want you really want. Which is what?"

"I want y-your cum. P-please, Wire."

"There's my good girl," Killer said, his hand slipping under your body to play with your clit. 

"A-ah." You fought the urge to smush your face back into the pillow. 

Killer, who had become well aware of the faces you made when you came, could tell you were close. "Cum for us. Let Wire know how much you appreciate him fucking you." 

You opened your mouth in a pained cry as an intense feeling of pleasure seeped into every fiber of your body. The inside of your thighs got considerably wetter. "T-hank you, Wire." If it weren't for him, you would be completely collapsed in a pile of mush in the middle of the bed. All your limbs felt like jelly. 

Wire pulled you tighter against him, shooting his load as deep as he could get it, doubling over you. He kissed between your shoulder blades. "Well done." 

As soon as he let go of you, you flopped on your back, exhausted. 

"Let's get you in the bath." Killer scooped you up.

Wire was putting his clothes back on.

"You're not coming?" 

"I'm too tall. Not comfortable." 

You blew him a kiss. "Night night then." 

"Night night." Wire scrunched up his face. He hated how that came out of his mouth. 

After Killer ran the hot bath, he got in the water and set you between his legs. He massaged your scalp as you laid on his chest, lazily washing your hair. You sighed contentedly, stretching out and letting Killer's hands wander as they pleased when he washed the rest of you. He made you feel so safe when you were in his arms. You'd never had a refuge like that before. You turned around and pressed a kiss to Killer's lips, which he gladly returned. 

There was a knock from the door to Kid's room. 

"Yeah?" Killer replied. 

Kid walked through. "Mind if I join ya?" He was already shedding clothing, and his metal arm, all over the floor. 

Your eyebrows pushed together. "You know how to knock first? And you asked permission? Where's Kid?" 

"Shut up. I can be a gentleman." Kid lowered himself on the other side of the tub. He pointed between the two of you. "So which one of ya is gonna wash me?"

You patted the water in front of you. "Come sit. I like to be sandwiched between my two favorite boys." 

Kid moved to sit in front of you. "Which one is yer favorite favorite?" 

"Well his name starts with K-I." You washed Kid's back, appreciating its broadness. 

"Ha! I knew it was me!" Kid paused. "Wait. Damn it." 

You laughed. There was no way you would choose. Killer irritated you way less, but Kid was devastatingly charming when he wanted to be. 

Killer caught your wrist when you strayed too close to Kid's stump. "Let me get that."

You were a little embarrassed that you didn't think anything of it, but obviously Kid might be sensitive about his injury. "Sorry." You wondered if you could give him his arm back, if he would like it back. You moved to sit next to Killer, watching him methodically wash around the missing limb.

It brought a smile to your face watching the two of them, who very obviously knew each other inside and out, trusted each other completely. You leaned against Killer, still very tired, not opposed to being sandwiched between them again in Kid's bed. You slept better that way. If Kid had noticed your remodeling project, he didn't say. You were a bit disappointed, eager to see his reaction. 

Killer turned his head to you. "Sing that again." 

"Huh?" You had been sining under your breath without being completely conscious of it, waiting for them to be done. "It's just the Bink's brew song." 

Kid groaned. "Killer, don't make her sing it. She's bad at it and that song is annoying." You could always count on Kid to be brutally honest.

Killer looked at you insistently. It made you self-conscious, especially now that he was staring, so you ran through the words quickly:

Gather up all of the crew, it's time to steal all Binks' brew. We will go, to where, who knows? The loot will be our guide. Robbed behind the tavern's side. Thieves and bandits far and wide. Whores they sing, of lustful things to pirates passing by.

"Wow, that was even worse than the first time. Nice." Kid snickered.

"The first time? Kid, you've heard her sing it before?"

"Yeah it was fucking awful. Opposite of a siren. Made me want to jump overboard." 

"Maybe you should have. Damn." You were regretting extending him an olive branch. 

Killer gave you a sympathetic look. "Where did you hear that version?"

"What do you mean? Everyone knows every island's got a spin on it." You were puzzled about where this was going. "It's the one from my island. My hometown." 

"KID!? You didn't recognize it?!"

"Fuck are ya talking about? Ya know I always hated that song. Sounds the same as when Heat used to sing it to get on my nerves." Kid seemed to think about it. "Hang on. That's why it sounded kinda familiar I guess." Kid went on. "Ha! That's funny. Yer island and our island had the same version."

You and Killer had shared a glance immediately when you both realized the connection. Kid was working on it, almost there. 

"No!" Kid snapped his head to face you. "Yer not...?!

"From an island that hasn't got a name because the leadership changes with the gangs? From an island built on crime? Yeah I am."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" 

"Come on. Let's talk about it in Kid's room. The water is getting cold." Killer suggested. 

"Why my room?"

"Because this one made a mess of my sheets," Killer wrapped a towel around your shoulders. 

You felt your face burn with blood rushing to your cheeks. "That's your fault," you mumbled. 

Kid refused to have you wear one of Killer's old shirts that you had become accustomed to. You were in his room, so you had to wear his shirt. Well, first he insisted that you didn't need to put anything at all on, but you had fought him on that. Kid didn't even try to mask his desire for you, eyes glued to your tits, and you really couldn't begin to fathom going another round with him. Killer and Wire wore you out. You had started to lay back down on Killer when he was settled. Kid stopped you and demanded that he get a turn because Killer had you all day and in the tub. It gave you a warm feeling to know that you were wanted. 

Kid went on and on about the adventures of the two of them and the trouble they would get into as kids. He explained that the four of them used to lead gangs themselves before they became pirates. Then he talked about how bad the food was there, when you could even get your hands on it, and how shitty it was to live in the environment as a kid. It made you jealous to hear of their time together. Maybe if you had something like that, you could have survived there. Eventually something would have happened to force your hand though, you were sure of it. 

"So what made ya leave? Other than all the shitty things I already mentioned." 

You took a deep breath. "You already know most of it. It was chaos, as you said." You continued. "Once all my friends were gone, I had no where left to go except to find another gang to join. And by then I was sick of that life. They weren't even friends really. We all just stuck together out of necessity." 

"What happened to them?" Kid asked.

"The same thing that always happens: they died, or they left, or they were stolen." You sighed. "Maybe it would have been different if I had met one of you." 

"No," Killer said. "You had to go your own way to be who you are now."

You snorted. "Would have preferred to skip the torture bit of 'going my own way'." You went on. "I was a sitting duck without a group. I finally decided to leave for good when I saw a girl a little younger than me get murdered in cold-blood. It could have easily been me there instead of her."

"What did the girl look like?" Kid's voice was melancholy. He had a hard time coming to the conclusion you were from the same island, but he already knew the answer before you replied in this case.

"Petite. Short hair. Freckles maybe. I don't know. She was far away."

"Victoria." Kid said, even more sadness in his voice.

"Her name was Victoria," Killer clarified. He was surprised to know that you were even closer to them than you realized, yet somehow never crossed paths. 

Kid moved from behind you to retrieve the picture he had of her. He handed it to you.

"Yeah... That's her." You had thought she looked similar to the girl from your past, but memories were fuzzy and you thought there was no way you could be from the same island. You were wrong. You gave it back to him. "I'm... sorry."

"So it wouldn't have been different if ya had met one of us. We couldn't even protect Victoria." 

You looked to Killer, who was equally sad. There was nothing you could say to make either of them feel better. It was clear that this was a deep wound that you couldn't heal. You felt like you were intruding on their private emotions. "I can leave," you said softly. You felt sorry for bringing it up unknowingly. 

"Please stay," Kid's voice was scratchy. 

Killer explained the whole story so you could put the pieces together. You had switched places with Kid so that his head was resting on your chest. You couldn't see his face, but you could feel the fabric against your chest become damp. He was crying. The only comforting gesture you could think of was to run your hand through his hair. Killer was sad, but he was always better at controlling his emotions. Kid wore his heart on his sleeve. Eventually, you could feel his breathing become slower and deeper and could hear snores coming from Kid.

"Is he okay?" You asked Killer, who was still awake next to you. 

"Yeah. Victoria was our first crush. Kid was head over heels for her. He was devastated, we both were, when she was killed. If he thinks about her for too long, he gets like this." Killer wanted to change the subject before he ended up like that too. "I can't believe all this time we were from the same island."

"Me neither."

"Wire and Heat are going to be beside themselves." 

Your eyes rested on Kid. A few months ago, this would have been insane to you. 

"Don't worry. He'll be the same Kid you know and love tomorrow." 

"Love is a strong word." You narrowed your eyes at Killer, suspicious that he was insinuating something.

"It is." You thought he had fallen asleep the pause was so long, but he continued, "Kid has grown very attached to the idea of you staying on the crew." And more softly, as if not to wake him, "Very attached to you." 

"Funny. He said a very similar thing about you."

Killer's eyebrows went up, a blush spreading across his face. "He did?"

"Well, his exact words were 'Killer really likes his little kitchen whore'." You laughed quietly, trying not to let your chest shake.

Killer huffed. "It's called a sous chef."

"That's what I fucking said!" Your voice was louder than intended. Actually, why were you two even whispering? A sea train could run over Kid and he would still be asleep. You noted that Killer made no other corrections to your statement. 

#this was so fun to write #love how they're telling on each other #x reader #one piece #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #marooned #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #wire x reader

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 27: Backstage Shenanigans

Aurora and Aeon are menaces, and Rain is an enabler. Swiss wonders why he puts up with them some times.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making us the dividers <3

Aurora doesn't know how to explain it. It might be her air affinity calling her upwards. Maybe it's hiding to brace for a long night. Maybe it's just her near constant desire to be mischievious. Regardless, Aurora's light enough to hide up in the scaffolding above stage right while the rest of the crew works on set up.

It's quiet up here, watching the crew moving below her cartoonishly small. In a couple hours' time, this place will be full to the brim of screaming humans, Aurora perched up on her pedestal in the far corner of stage left. For now, she breathes, trying to keep the anticipation at bay. She's still new to this all; asides from Aeon, her summoning-mate, all of the other ghouls have years of experience on her.

She tries to keep her mind focused, not spiraling into her doubts even though she knows she was chosen for a reason. Soundcheck starts soon (She doesn't know how soon. She doesn't even want to risk pulling her phone out and dropping it from this height) and she knows she'll have to return to the ground once again.

The metal rigging creaks, and Aurora jolts, manicured fingers wrapping tightly around one of the beams as she momentarily loses her balance. Once she's righted herself, she turns, frame relaxing as she sees another figure hauling themself up to sit beside her.

"Hey, Rory," Aeon says, chuffing softly as they press against her side, looking around from this new point of view. They're half-dressed already, in uniform from the waist down, compression shirt sleeves shoved up to their elbows. "I keep seeing you up here. This is nice."

She laughs, knocking her shoulder into his softly. "Yeah, when you can keep your balance. It's, uh, it's quiet."

Below them, a few of their packmates wander onto the stage. Rain stretches his wrists, rolling his neck as Swiss climbs up onto his platform. He's right under the two of them.

"You wanna cause some trouble, Rory?" Aeon asks, free hand slipping into their pants pocket and pulling out a handful of... something. It's dim up here, but Aurora can see the metallic copper glint of a grucifix, of the stylized word Ghost. They've got a bunch of the picks they're going to throw out at the end of the night, eyes glittering with something mischievous.

She grins, the gap between her front teeth on full display as she carefully reaches out, grabbing a few of the picks from them. "Rainy or Swiss?" she asks, gesturing between the two ghouls below them.

Aeon hums thoughtfully. "Swiss is too easy," he whispers. "He's right there. Get Rain."

Carefully balancing herself on the scaffolding, Aurora closes one eye, pick squeezed between two fingers, and throws. It's so small she loses sight of it, watching carefully at Rain's reaction, if there is one.

They watch from above as Rain's brow furrows, glancing down and pushing at something with his boot. The tiniest speck of black disappears under his sole, and Aeon grins wildly. "Missed," they hiss with laughter.

"Oh, knock it off," she hisses back, suddenly going stock still as she feels eyes on her. She slowly turns back towards stage left. Her stomach drops, and she can almost feel it hit the stage below them.

Rain's staring up at the two of them, a smile slowly growing on his face. He makes a show of bending down to pick up the pick Aurora had just thrown at him.

"Oh shit," Aeon whispers, their two toned eyes wide.

"Fuck," Aurora agrees, waiting for Rain to make them known, call them out on being somewhere they're not supposed to be.

Instead, Rain just smiles, gesturing almost imperceptibly towards Swiss. Aurora echoes his expression, shifting on the scaffolding until she's looking straight down at the multi-ghoul, another pick in hand.

She throws it, and she knows she can't hear it, too small and light, but her brain provides her with the most satisfying "thunk" as the pick hits the top of Swiss's head, bouncing off and clattering against his platform. He shouts, wheeling around and looking for the source. Rain leans back and cackles, watching the multi-ghoul looking around frantically.

Aeon and Aurora can't hold back their laughter, and Swiss looks straight up. His growl sounds weird under his human glamour. "You two!" he yells, but there's no real heat in it. "Gremlins, the two of you I swear!"

Aurora cackles, throwing another one down, delighting in the way he sputters.

#let aurora be a Menace #she deserves it #dot's writing #aurora ghoulette #aeon ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #mushy may 2024

[miss-musings]

"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1

I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.

Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.

I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.

But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.

I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.

CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?

Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.

We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.

I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.

He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against him? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?

They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."

As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focused on their reactions as much.

But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.

No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:

That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.

That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.

Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.

It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.

But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:

The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.

Yet they never went back for him.

Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.

I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.

But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.

And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.

But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...

ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE

I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.

However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.

Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.

So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.

However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.

Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.

And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.

The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, but thankfully Rex stuns him in the nick of time.

Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.

Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:

Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;

How to remove an inhibitor chip; and

That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will

And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.

They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.

But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.

But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.

Again, they have all the information needed at this point.

As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.

But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."

If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???

Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!

Which brings us nicely to:

THE DOUBLE STANDARD

Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.

They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.

In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.

It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.

"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.

"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.

"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...

"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...

You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!

Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.

It really feels like such a double standard.

They seem to care about everyone BUT him.

Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...

Echo.

Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?

Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.

One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing his was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.

Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.

Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!

SOME CONSIDERATIONS

I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.

While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.

And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)

I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.

Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?

Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.

He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.

But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.

We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.

Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.

I cannot stress enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.

And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.

It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.

But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.

And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.

I would've been livid too.

Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.

I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."

The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.

I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.

Granted, it's really hard to tell.

Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.

But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.

For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)

I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.

And I imagine Crosshair did too.

IN CONCLUSION

Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.

I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.

This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.

Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.

On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.

I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.

I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).

But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.

Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.

But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

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