#but really fucking intense about things that are meant to be like. cozy games or what have you

[ouroblorbos]

some older ms paint/aggie drawings pertaining to my rp server again :3

#karkat honestly kinda seems like the type of person who like… not super into video games #but really fucking intense about things that are meant to be like. cozy games or what have you #idk i think it kinda fits with his general vibe of hardass who actually cares very deeply about his friends lol #homestuck #dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #ouroart

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tags @somethingclevermahogony, @elsie-writes, and @frostedlemonwriter!

Find the Word Tag

I'll do all these in one, why the fuck not?

My words: laugh, cozy, answer, entire, brown, fish, run, screech, down, drumming, intense, swallow, inspire

Your words: dwell, thick, circus, berry

Ok, Honor's Outcasts, let's do this. I just checked and I've got fish in there a total of 74 times, this is gonna be fun

. . . .

<Today's the first day of Jasartra Eim, so I planned on doing some meditation around the fifteenth hour. If you care to join me, we can check the traps afterwards.>

<It's not that long a ritual,> he added as Izjik grimaced.

It wasn't that she was opposed to religion. Hell, she found it beyond impressive that Sepo had kept his faith throughout the conflagration that was his life, even if it was a faith that had a history of drowning innocent people. But her record when it came to gods was... messy.

<I take it you'll pass. Sorry....> Sepo was well aware of what had landed her in the highest security oubliette Illaros had to offer.

"It's fine." She forced a laugh. "Meditation's just not really my thing."

.

Izjik now knew why Sepo always complained about their cozy tenement. He'd grown up in a place like this, hadn't he? In luxury. A single damn rug here made their rooms seem like a sty!

Where they weren't coveted with strange, gorgeous curtains, the marble blocks were a furor of swirling gold and white. Their steps echoed around the vast room, bouncing off of carved columns, only to be absorbed by the weird image-bearing cloths. The whole place smelled like the first breeze of a honeysuckle summer.

.

Undeta swept her hand back and forth, as if bored, though no such emotion showed in her eyes. "Yes, you've sung this song a hundred times. From the moment we picked you up at that dingy hovel you thought you could lie low in, you've been singing away like a little canary. Tell me, Tyche, did you think it would save you?"

Tyche looked away, not bothering to answer. She'd been a fool trying to play both sides. A greedy, grasping fool. She'd thought herself, if not able to play the game exactly, then able to at least cheat off of those who knew the rules. But little did she know, she'd never even realized what pieces the powers of the world were using.

.

Maybe Izjik should've been more curious about the occult cloud that had shaded her entire life, yet she couldn't quite bring herself to it. Never once had she wanted to learn more about End and what made her its flesh exactly. She'd get those answers, to find out what the sirens wanted with her at least, but damn if she wasn't scared of what they'd be.

.

Sepo had always been one of those people who looked like shit no matter how much they slept or ate, but under the gilded light, Izjik failed to hold in her shock at how wasted he seemed.

The man had practically aged ten years in three months - quite the feat for someone whose golk could live well over three centuries and not look a day over twenty-five. Sepo’s cheeks were nearly as sunked as they'd been when the pair had first met, and his eyes were ringed with shadow. At his temples, Izjik noticed several streaks of gray shining amidst the brown.

With a chuckle, Izjik poked at the side of his head.

"We match," she smiled, ruffling her own head of silver.

<Actually, this whole thing was just a plan to steal your look,> Sepo signed with a smirk. <I've decided gray is going to be my color from now on.>

.

Upon making his way over to the rest of the gaggle, Djek discovered them to be in full scheming mode. Which meant Sepo was plotting with Twenari in rapid-fire handsigns, while Izjik interjected with the occasional observation or revelation that something was stupid or the plan was terrible.

Surprisingly enough, the fish seemed to be acting perfectly civil around each other. They weren't back to their full swing, sibling-level banter, but they were at least speaking. Djek figured the pair wouldn't have lasted long in the Trench if they didn't know how to act professional in a time of crisis. Thank the gods for small mercies.

.

Fear now accompanying pain, the woman tore off a strip of her shirtsleeve and jammed it desperately against the wound, fresh needles of pain cropping up with the pressure.

How could she fix a gut wound? Panic mounting, Izjik recalled an instance from her childhood.

In her eleventh year, one of the hunters had run afoul of a tusked water deer during a patrol. It hadn't been a deep wound, the buck not being more than a little thing, but the puncture had been pretty close to where hers was now. Everyone had been sure brawny Raluheh would pull through. Five agonizing, rot-fulled days later, the enclave had been proven wrong.

.

"You- you're sparing me?" the siren coughed out.

Sepo gestured for him to go with a jerk of his chin.

"But what about our deal?" he whined. "You have no idea what I-"

Sepo cut off his complaints by shoving him towards the alley's exit.

"You little ingrate! You can't just expect me to leave without an answer!" Cintillios screeched.

Sepo shrugged, then brandished his dagger as if weighing it against the priest's freedom.

"You will give me an answer, you mute abomination! Even if I have to force it from your lips!"

.

Slipped inbetween Izjik’s arguments was a hard, dead silence.

"That doesn't mean I can't make my own calls!"

There was a hissed breath in response, then more silence.

"Like you would've done any different? Be honest!"

Breathe, breathe. In and out.

Twenari sighed, moving over to plop down onto their raggedy little settee. It wasn't like an argument was uncommon for the pair. Hell, she's heard them argue over the color of a woman's hat once. A woman, she might add, who'd been standing right next to then in a bank queue, and whose blushing face had perfectly complimented her obviously blue hat.

There'd been more serious discussions too, but when those had coma along, both seafolk seemed to rein it in a bit. Izjik’s voice lost its fiery indignation while Sepo toned down his typical vitriol.

That balance wasn't happening now. In fact, from what she could hear and deduce, the two were pulling out all the nasty, petty stops.

.

Twenari pawed at her eyes, knowing her life may depend on clearing them more quickly than her opponent. She spied a hazy shape before her, unrecognizable for a moment with its golden locks singed an ashen black. Tyche clawed at her own face, muscles tensed in pain. Twenari guessed the Ekektan was screaming. Only guessed though - all the girl could hear was an intense ringing.

.

A moment of silence followed in both rooms, the sort that felt painful to maintain, yet too awkward to break. However, Twenari hadn't gotten to where she was in life by listening to social cues. Swallowing, she screwed up her courage and stammered the question.

"Um, Djek, are you holding up ok?"

For a second, the Amaranthi's gap-toothed smile seemed frozen in place, shocked into a state of preservation while any happiness drained from his eyes.

"I, uh, I'm doing great. What are you talking about?" He chuckled unconvincingly. "You know me, heart of nails and all that."

Twenari didn't dignify that last part with any response more than a deadpan stare.

. . . .

And that's a wrap! Open tag because I'm tired :)

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #find the word game

[cobaincreates]

the fuck is a touron? pt. 2

warnings: language, mention of drugs & alcohol, smut (wrap it you're smart), very brief oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 9k+

part one is here! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! also remember when i said this has been sitting for a couple months?? welp, it’s been longer than that...oops. but it's all yours now!!! :)

taglist is always open. have a lovely weekend! photo cred

— — —

3 weeks earlier

a loud blare jolted you awake.

“what the fuck?”

you scrambled to stop the noise, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest. your head knocked into something hard as you twisted and tried to assemble your brain.

a clatter of what sounded like several bottles came from your right. the sound still rang out into the room—which was where exactly?

as you got to your hands and knees and shuffled against what felt like carpet, you remembered vaguely that you’d gone out last night. the carpet and dark room didn’t tell you much else. but the trilling alarm was enough to set you into a search to find that out.

“shut that off!” a voice yelled from behind you.

your hand knocked into more bottles and you grappled for one, feeling the familiar shape of a glass beer bottle. someone groaned in front of you then a blinding light pierced across your eyes. you sucked in a breath, dropping the bottle and covering your eyes.

what, were you a vampire? you peeked past your fingers to a parted curtain letting in a sliver of sunlight. you saw a little more of where you’d been, the light trail full of bottles and some sprawled legs and arms.

the alarm cut off suddenly. soft snores and labored breaths filled the silence now, along with a pounding in your ears so intense, you would’ve thought you were still hearing the alarm. a slow, gradual ache formed in the center of your forehead.

you blinked as your eyes adjusted to the light. a sparkling stiletto caught your attention, but it wasn’t on a foot. you looked around the room and spotted its twin near the back of a couch. crawling over, you found liza laying on her back with her hair messily splayed around her.

she was yawning while her phone lit up her face in a soft glow. when your eyes met, she whispered, “hey.”

you faintly remembered her setting an alarm on her phone somewhere in between jell-o shots and body shots. or was it after the jäger bombs?

you let out an oomf as you collapsed beside her on your stomach. your head didn’t let up the pounding. you made a noise, your words muffled against the stale-smelling carpet.

“what?” liza said, not having heard any coherent words.

you turned your head, the carpet scratching your cheek. “i said, nurse me back to health, please.”

“i told you not to do those lines,” she said, shaking her head.

“what?” you said a little too loudly, earning a few shh!s in return.

“i’m kidding,” liza laughed.

you grimaced, mostly at her but also at the hair in your mouth. you reached up to remove it and sat up while liza looked at her phone.

“what time is it?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder around the room.

no one else had moved from liza’s wake-up alarm. your vision was clearer now and you took in the trashed room. bottles lay everywhere, a few staining the carpet in dark puddles. a lamp was on the floor, its shade across the room over someone’s head. it was warm considering the blackout curtains keeping the morning sun out and you couldn’t imagine sleeping in here any longer.

your head pounded again as liza said, “noon.”

“can we go? i might throw up from how hot it is in here.” you pulled at your dress, wanting nothing more than to get under some cold water.

liza sat up and looked around, dropping her phone into her lap. “i need my other shoe.”

“it’s over here,” you said and crawled to retrieve it for her.

she put it on, her dress riding up her thighs before she stood and pulled it back down. you took her offered hand so she could help you up. your heels sank into the carpet and you looked down, finding a soggy spot where beer had seeped in. you frowned and grabbed ahold of liza’s arm to find your way out.

your small crossbody clutch was resting on the couch cushion and you reached for it over a girl’s sleeping form, careful not to wake her. she made a small noise and you snatched it quickly, feeling the weight of your phone inside.

liza ordered an uber to bring you back to campus. it was fifteen minutes away and you panicked for a brief moment from not knowing where the hell you were. last night was a whole blur apart from arriving and getting into the swing of things. you remember dancing and drinking and having fun with liza and a few other friends. it wasn’t usual for you to sleep at random people’s houses after parties, but last night must have been a little more eventful than others.

you let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sank into the back of the uber driver’s car. luckily, you didn’t get someone hopped up on coffee or blasting music. it was quiet and calm, enough so that you closed your eyes.

speaking of coffee, you could really use one. and food. and a shower. had you really slept on that nasty carpet last night? you shuddered and opened your eyes.

fishing out your phone from your clutch, you saw a few notifications from last night and the past few hours. you ignored them for now and unlocked your phone with the goal of texting one of your friends who worked at the diner in town and begging him to have your usual ready when you got there. it was all you could think about as your stomach rumbled.

but when you unlocked your phone, your eyebrows drew together. your screen opened to an internet tab, a little plane logo at the top corner.

“why the fuck did i buy a ticket to the outer banks?” you blurted to no one in particular. well, maybe to your friend beside you, who lived in the outer banks.

liza lolled her head toward you on the back of the seat, not at all looking as concerned as you felt. “you’re visiting, remember? i talked you into buying it last night.”

“why?” your head seemed to throb even worse.

you couldn’t go to the outer banks. you didn’t have the money for it and the ticket on your internet browser said you’d even bought a round trip one. god, why had you done that? you were saving up for the summer. you were saving up to see so much more than the outer banks. as much as you loved liza, and you knew she’d love to have you there, you would be wasting a weekend. how were you going to tell your boss that you needed off at such short notice?

liza shrugged beside you. “because my dad will be gone for a whole weekend and i’m throwing the biggest party ever and you love me and you promised to dance to ‘back that ass up’ with me there.”

“oh my god,” you groaned and dropped your phone into your lap. you rubbed your pulsing temples. “i can’t go, liza. i really need the money.”

“hence why you have a job—said job will pay that back in a week. you’re fine,” she waved her hand and turned back to the window.

“i need to work that weekend,” you argued. just thinking about asking for it off had your skin crawling.

“you can take time off. you never do.” liza shrugged, looking at you again. her face softened when she noticed how distraught you were over it. “look, if you really don’t want to, then just cancel it. it’s okay if you don’t come.”

your fingers came away from your head as you saw that she was being genuine. she may have joked around with you a lot, but she meant it when she said that.

friday

getting time off wasn’t easy. your boss acted like the ultimate villain in a boss level from a video game, having you go through all of these obstacles just to get three days off. you understood it, you were short-staffed anyways and it was hard, but you couldn’t help feeling as though they were a little harsh on you. it was always a fight to get time off, even when you showed up every day, on time, and did your work without complaint.

right after you talked to your boss, feeling the ultimate amount of shame over requesting three days, you searched high and low for someone to cover your shift. turns out, it wasn’t all that difficult to begin with since one of your co-workers—who just had a baby and was still a full-time student—told you they’d appreciate the extra hours. you felt instantly better afterward until your boss asked you to fill out three separate sheets for the time off. no, you couldn’t just write the three days on one sheet. it had to be three. separate. sheets.

it was completely ridiculous and uncalled for. you fumed for a while, pressing way too hard on your pen as you filled them out. once you set them on their desk, all filled out properly, you reminded yourself you could quit soon. just a few more months of the semester and you’d be gone.

the next day when you came in, your boss had allegedly lost those request papers. and funnily enough, they allowed you to put the weekend dates on one paper this time. you’d stared at them for a whole three minutes, paper in your hand and tongue between your teeth with angry words just dying to get out. you can quit soon. you can quit soon.

the weeks dragged by before the day finally arrived and you left for your flight. it was only when you got off the plane that the hours started to fly by. it was colder this time around, which you didn’t mind, even on the breezy ferry ride. you were looking forward to campfires and cozy sweaters.

you hopped off the ferry around noon and right into liza’s waiting arms at the dock. she was overjoyed about you visiting and you knew all the trouble with work was worth it just to get away for a little. you were young, there was no shame in a little time off, and liza was right—you’d already earned the money back for the ticket.

liza’s dad was bustling around their house when you arrived, packing like a crazy person on a time crunch. he threw a hello at you as he shuffled past with an armful of socks and possibly underwear, which had you lifting an eyebrow at liza. she shoved your arm and took your bag into the guest bedroom.

“where’s your dad running off to? can i go?” you teased, dropping your backpack onto the light green comforter. the white walls seemed brighter this time, but you accounted it for the new sheer curtains over the windows facing the back of the house.

“he’s going on a business trip. and no, you can’t. his girlfriend is going with him.” liza left your bag near the dresser and hopped on the bed, the comforter sighing under her weight.

“girlfriend? aw, man.” you frowned dramatically and lay on your stomach beside her. “do we like this girlfriend?”

“she’s very...” her left eye squinted as she thought. “eccentric. like, i don’t know how to take it. he seems happy though.”

“like, weird eccentric or crazy eccentric?”

“i don’t know. i haven’t breached the abortion topic with her yet. that could be very telling, don’t you think?” a playful smile hinted at her lips.

“totally telling,” you agreed.

minutes later, you were waving liza’s dad off as he pulled out of the driveway, liza standing a few steps in front of you. once he was gone and out of sight down the drive, liza turned back to you with a flourish and a cheshire grin spread on her face. you laughed as she pushed you into the house and began jumping excitedly. music started playing somewhere in between the jumping, which promptly turned to dancing in the kitchen. having a whole house to yourselves was always a thrilling thing.

it wasn’t long after that that liza told you to get ready for a party at the boneyard, as she called it. you had no idea whether to take that literally or just go along with it and be surprised. you went with the latter as you changed out of your airport clothes.

as you were heading that way, you thought about that one fling you had the last time you were here. what was his name? something rich, with a t. tom? trenton? no, no, something obscure. topper. god, you nearly forgot about him, but now that you were visiting again, you wondered if he was around. in the middle of the semester seemed like your luck would be out.

liza was slowing the car as you thought to text topper, just to see if he was here. you hadn’t talked since that summer—what was it? seven months ago? you hadn’t felt the need to keep in touch. didn’t he say to shoot him a text when you were in town again? you supposed there was no harm in doing so. what could be the worst thing to happen? maybe he wouldn’t be in town, but you wouldn’t be all that bummed about not having a hookup. you weren’t as ravenous as you were in the summer.

“are you getting out?”

your head turned and you found liza standing with the door open, her keys dangling from her hand. you hadn’t noticed that the car had parked or that you’d arrived at wherever the boneyard was. the beach was right in front of you, just over a small crest in the sand. you could smell it slipping into the car from where liza held the door propped open.

you opened your own door and hopped out, the gravel crunching under your shoes. you were glad you opted for a sweater with the early spring wind from the water as it blew over your shoulders and tangled into your hair.

a handful of people were already on the beach, stripped driftwood scattered around. most used them as seats while there was a fire already going and drinks in their hands. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, a giddiness filling your chest. this was exactly what you needed and the perfect setting for it.

liza pulled you into a group with some familiar faces that you had met the last time around. small talk was immediately flowing and you couldn’t care less for it, but you welcomed it anyways. liza was quick to guide you to the next group and the next before you finally got comfortable with a drink in hand. you sipped it steadily and ditched your shoes with liza’s, sticking them under a piece of driftwood behind where you stood. one of liza’s friends was asking you about your degree, something along the lines of why you had chosen it. you couldn’t comprehend it fully as your eyes drifted around the sand where people stood in small groups and larger ones.

standing near an overturned lifeguard post that was sure to be rotting away was none other than topper. he was facing away from you, but you had no doubt in your mind that it was him. his hair was blonder than it was when you met, funnily enough in the colder months. he wore a sweatshirt (blue or dark green, you couldn’t tell) paired with shorts and (surprisingly) sneakers.

you turned back to liza’s friend, giving them a somewhat vague but good answer. you then excused yourself and split from the group to head in topper’s direction. you stopped just outside of his larger group and crossed your arms, holding on to your beer by the neck loosely. it took a minute or two for topper to notice you, obviously feeling a presence behind him and doing a double-take. you already had a smirk on your face.

“holy shit, hi.” he blinked rapidly, turning away from his friends.

“hi,” you laughed. both of you went in for a hug at the same time. topper pressed your waist firmly to his while you hugged him around his shoulders.

“it’s good to see you,” you said.

“yeah, you too.” there was surprise in his voice and features as if he never thought he would see you again. your hand slipped down his arm as you pulled away before you took a step back, your hands resting at your sides.

“how have—“

“hey! the touron’s back!” a voice over his shoulder shouted.

you looked in its direction, finding a menacing smirk on an all too familiar face. you couldn’t remember his name as he sipped arrogantly on a beer, perched on the rotting lifeguard’s post.

you found your own sweet smile and raised your free hand to flip him off, which only egged him on more as his laughter filtered out. you were instantly annoyed, although you didn’t show it as he had brought unwanted attention to you and topper. you were sure most of the people in this larger group had been on topper’s deck that day in the summer.

topper looked at a loss for words when you turned back to him, his eyes still on you. you were glad he wasn’t laughing at his friend’s comment.

“can i get you another drink?” he gestured to the bottle between your fingers and you glanced down, seeing that it was a sip away from empty.

you gave him a nod as you said, “sure.”

the sun was setting by the time you got a refill, the glass cold against your palm, and wandered off with topper toward the water. conversation flowed as you caught up, shrugging as you told him all you had been doing was working and studying. you were lucky if you got to go out and have fun once in a while. topper expressed the same, talking animatedly about college and visiting home for the weekend to see his friends.

you wondered what he was like at college, if he spent most of his quieter hours in the library reading articles or if he was the type of friend to take up guard in the kitchen at parties. it was easy to imagine him in those situations since you hardly knew him. his smirking friend certainly didn’t seem the type.

you flicked some wet sand into the water, imagining the waves bringing it back to settle at your feet. topper stood beside you, the wind tousling his locks. you had just mentioned how your mother had bought a new coffee machine and how your dad canceled it because there was no point in having two. your mother just figured it would be easier having two so no one had to wait on the single-cup brewing system. it made you laugh and roll your eyes when you heard about it over the phone. topper had been smiling the whole time as he listened, his head inclined like you were whispering.

a rush of heat had slithered down between your thighs when you caught his eyes a couple times. he was just watching you as you spoke and you couldn’t help but smile flirtatiously, wondering if he was thinking what you were thinking.

how you were imagining last summer and the feel of his hands on your skin. you wished you’d gotten to know more of him; if he had any scars or little beauty marks that you didn’t notice the first time. it was easy to imagine it, but you had the burning curiosity to see for yourself.

you needed to take a break, to get a gulp of air before you drowned in the thought and jumped his bones right here and now.

“i should go find liza,” you said abruptly even though no one had been speaking. “i’ll see you around?”

topper nodded without a word and you caught a glimpse of confusion on his face, but you walked away. you let out a deep breath as you felt the wet sand turn dry under your feet. the sky was an inky pink behind you, windshields on cars reflecting it back.

you wrapped an arm around liza when you found her and she smiled knowingly. you didn’t have to ask if she’d seen you with topper, it was quite obvious in such an open area.

topper took up his place with the group you took him away from, but this time he was facing your way. you closed your lips around your bottle, staring back at him as he did the same thing. a shiver went up your legs, goosebumps exposing to the crisp air around you. you had to look away before you walked over there and kissed the hell out of him. your heart was behaving rather poorly now.

but could you help it? every time he looked at you as the sky grew darker and the bonfire grew larger, every obscene image possible took shelter behind your eyes. your mouth dried out so many times that you eventually had to get another drink and another. topper wasn’t making it easy and you started digging holes with your feet just to stay put.

you wouldn’t go to him, you made that very clear to yourself. if topper wanted you, then he’d have to make the first move. stubborn as it was maybe, but you’d torture him if you had to like he was torturing you now with all of these looks under his lashes. christ.

“my god,” liza said into your ear as she stood on the driftwood behind you, arms around your neck. “you’d think topper was a starving man.”

“shut up,” you laughed and looked at a fallen log in the fire pit.

“i’m serious. you guys have been undressing each other for an hour and a half now. just go over there and make out with him.”

you smiled into your drink, keeping your eyes far away from topper, or else you might actually do just that.

“there’s hardly any pda going on as it is, we need entertainment,” liza sighed.

“there’s your entertainment,” you nodded your head toward a rowdy group of young high schoolers shouting at each other. three of them looked angry as all hell and there was a bit of shoving before one of the older college boys broke it apart.

“that was short-lived,” liza frowned as she hopped down from the driftwood.

“you want another drink?” you asked her as she finished off her last one.

“yes, please!” she beamed as you took her bottle and tossed them into a nearby trash bin. you headed for the stocked cooler and grabbed two beers. as you stood, topper was making his way over.

“you have any plans after this?” he asked without much preamble.

you smiled, pulling the tops off and taking a sip from your own, eyeing him as you did. that flicker of heat made its way back between your thighs, warming you all over. you couldn’t deny the suggestion in his question excited you and you were giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being patient.

“nope, i’m all yours.”

topper smiled slowly, his eyes flicking to your lips as you licked them. okay, maybe jumping his bones here and now wasn’t a terrible idea. but you needed to string this out, you wanted it to last—whatever it was.

“i don’t want to leave yet though. i’ll come find you?” it implied that you’d make him wait longer than you really would, but it was satisfying to see him practically drool at the thought of what was to come.

liza was giddy when you went back over, either for the beer or when you told her that you’d be going off with topper for a little. she smirked, knowing exactly what for, but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and not without you.

you didn’t make topper wait long. when you were ready, another beer in and a relieved bladder, you touched topper’s elbow as he talked with his friends closer to the cooler. the ice was partly melted, but there were still plenty of drinks left. the fire was feeding off sweltering heat, and with the cold wind, it was perfect.

“hey, you ready?” you asked when topper turned to you.

you weren’t sure exactly what topper had in mind when he had asked you if you were busy for the rest of the night, but not having a clue thrilled you a little.

“yeah,” he nodded and took the last sip from his beer. his slid his hand up, capturing yours before tugging you along toward the parked cars. hardly anyone was over there. you could faintly hear voices and sounds from inside a few cars, some windows cracked. your fingertips warmed as your heart beat, pushing blood to every corner.

topper’s jeep came in sight and you tried to remember the inside. was there enough room for both of you in the back seat? or maybe you’d share one of the front ones. it didn’t matter to you, as long as he put his lips to use.

your back met the side of the jeep as topper leaned his hands on the window, caging you in. you were quick to close the space between you, either the beer taking the reins or your lack of patience from the past few hours of being here and having a staring contest with him. your breaths mingled and your hands grabbed fistfuls of his sweatshirt to pull him closer. the familiar tingles spread between your thighs and you wasted no time in showing him how impatient you were.

“i don’t think either of us is fit enough to drive, topper,” you breathed when you had the chance.

there was no way you could drive with everything you drank. topper tasted like the beer too, but you weren’t sure if he was fit enough to drive either. you didn’t want to chance it, nor could you wait that long.

“what do you want to do?” he asked against the skin of your neck, his nose skimming up the side. he pressed a few kisses, getting closer to your jaw.

you tilted your head back against the door and sighed, closing your eyes momentarily then opening them to find a few stars winking at you. there were so many once you focused on them. topper interrupted your gaze, pulling you by the back of your head to his lips. he kissed you as if you were his last meal, his tongue licking into your mouth. you moaned, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. you remembered him being this much of a good kisser.

“let’s find a spot on the beach,” you suggested, only getting a kiss on the corner of his mouth before he pulled away.

his eyes were blown wide, his hair ruffled. if you looked hard enough, his cheeks were sure to be flushed, both from alcohol and excitement.

“seriously?” he asked, his hand stilling on the back of your head.

you laughed and nodded, brushing a lock of his hair. “yeah, why not?”

a cold wind blew, tossing your hair into your eyes. topper caught it and pushed it back to its spot behind your ear.

“i think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he joked.

you grinned and slid your hands down his chest. “do you have a towel?”

topper had to pick his jaw up off the gravel before he finally moved away from you and opened his jeep. he ruffled around in the back then finally pulled out a blanket.

“very resourceful,” you commented as he closed the door.

“never know when you might need it,” he said as he threw it around you, shielding your bare legs from the wind. he turned again to the jeep and bent over the driver’s seat to get something. you saw it was a condom when he turned back and closed the door.

“also resourceful.”

he laughed then took your hand back in his. you headed back toward the beach but in the opposite direction of where the bonfire was. it was quieter the further you got, nothing but the waves coming into the shore. it was darker too; all the more private.

topper took the blanket from you and settled it down. you took a seat as he fixed a corner, swiping sand that had gotten on to it. once he sat beside you, he pulled you back against his lips.

you knelt up and scooted closer, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you swung a leg over his waist. you sat in his lap and hummed as you felt him against your thigh. he squeezed you closer in response.

“i’ve never fucked someone on a beach before,” you admitted as you slipped your hands under his sweatshirt and the t-shirt beneath, pushing them up.

“i’ve never fucked anyone outside before.”

“what?” you pulled away to look down at him, your hands freezing on his chest. he was breathing deeply and you swore you felt the patter of his heart against your fingertips. “really?”

“yeah,” he shrugged and glanced over your shoulder toward the water. “just never had the chance to try.”

“what do you mean? you live on an island.” you let his clothes fall back down, stopping above his belly button. “i’ve been here twice and i’ve seen at least twenty ideal places that would be perfect for it.”

“i don’t know, i never asked anyone and no one asked me.” he shrugged again and you knew you were looking way too into this, but it seemed impossible that he hadn’t done this at least once before. you knew that if you lived here, you would’ve done it countless times.

your hands slid back up. “well, tonight’s your lucky night.”

you pulled topper back to your lips, tongues meeting. his hands rubbed along your back and you couldn’t help but arch into him as he slipped them beneath your sweater. his hands were so warm that it felt as if he set fire to your skin. you moaned and sunk your teeth into his lip briefly. a shiver wrecked your body just as topper’s hands came around to your front, sliding up to your breasts. you felt your nipples peek at the contact and topper made it even worse when his thumbs brushed over them.

“christ, it’s cold,” you mumbled as another shiver came and went.

“mhmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure that’s what it is.”

you laughed and wanted to swat at him. instead, you swallowed that little bit of nerves edging close to the surface and reached a hand to his lap. you watched as topper’s lips parted as your hand squeezed him over his shorts. the fabric was soft as topper grew harder. you relished in his expression, the way his eyebrows were drawn together, and how his jaw flinched when he closed his mouth.

topper’s hands fell away as you stood. he looked ready to pull you back down until he realized what you were doing and watched closely as you pulled your shorts and underwear down together. you kicked them aside and shivered as another wind blew.

sitting over topper again, you knelt up onto your knees to pull his shorts down. you couldn’t help swallowing at the sight of him. as dark as it was, you could still see him pretty well. your hand wrapped around him, solid and warm in your palm. topper groaned and leaned back on his hands.

“where’s the condom?” you asked as you stroked him, not at all in a rush with your hand around him.

topper registered your question and patted around the blanket for a moment before holding a square packet between his fingers. you took it from him and bit down on an edge, ripping it open with your free hand. you took the rubber between your fingers and spat the packaging somewhere. topper’s breathing became swallow all the while you stroked him. you stopped and rolled the condom onto him then leaned forward for a kiss.

topper reciprocated, his hands grabbing ahold of your hips until he pulled away to look up at you.

“what if you get sand in your vagina?” he asked, an innocent tone wrapping around his voice.

you couldn’t help the smile or the way your eyebrows furrowed all the while wanting to laugh. that’s what he’s thinking about?

“nothing that hasn’t happened before. it usually takes a couple of days to get rid of but i’ll be fine.”

the topic didn’t stop there. “does it hurt?”

“no, i’ll be fine,” a small laugh slipped out. “that’s why we have a blanket. and i’m on top. can we stop talking about sand getting in my vagina now? it’s kind of killing the mood.”

“sorry,” he shook his head, an embarrassed expression taking form.

you snorted, laughter bubbling up your throat. how did that question even come about in his head? you supposed it was nice of him to care about such a thing. you hoped your laughter didn’t make him feel more embarrassed.

his expression morphed into an amused one and he joined in, laughing at his odd question. you both shook with laughter for a few moments until you calmed down. topper squeezed his fingers on your hips, dragging his palms down your thighs. you brought your lips back to his and your hands to his chest. pushing him gently, you went with him as he lay down. you stayed against him for a couple more seconds before sitting up over him and finding him in your hand again.

topper groaned and gripped your thighs as you brought him into your heat. you couldn’t find your breath as you took him all the way in and sat over him, feeling completely and utterly filled. he was in your stomach, under your skin, everywhere.

“fuck, yes,” you panted, branding your palms on his stomach, pushing his sweatshirt and shirt up again. he was flushed from head to toe, something you were slowly building up to be.

you started off rocking back and forth slowly, feeling him pull and glide inside of you. when you dragged your clit against his skin, which was getting hotter and hotter with the friction, you couldn’t help the way your body tightened around him.

“y/n. oh, fuck—you gotta bounce for me,” topper choked out underneath you, moving his hands to your waist to grip tightly.

you nodded without words, not really finding any with your tongue tied. your hands pushed against his stomach as you lifted yourself up, letting almost all of him leave you empty. then you slammed down, moaning as loud as you could. you didn’t care. not one bit. you were still aware of the bonfire happening yards away, but you didn’t care if someone from the party was walking this way and heard you. let them hear how good topper felt inside you.

a quicker pace was set, sweat building in the creases of your knees and under your hands planted against topper. you loved this. all you could think about was how good it felt, how you fucked topper hard and fast—and how you were getting to fuck him again. it was so much better than the first time, even though you loved having him behind you then. this was just as good.

topper was sitting up again, your sweater rubbing against his and your body feeling way too hot. his hands gripped your ass tightly, helping you rock your hips over him. you were close, closer every time your clit brushed against him at this angle.

it became too much very quickly. you held on to him by his hair at the back of his head, gripping so tightly your knuckles were probably white, and reached your other hand down to touch yourself. your moans were growing higher and more frequent and topper was full-blown panting in your face. when you reached your end, a strangled sound came out of you. you stilled over topper, pulling more of his hair as you came over him.

not long after when you were moving again over him, your mouth on his neck and arms around his shoulders, his grip tightened on your ass as he came. you hummed and gave a few pecks just before he let go and fell onto his back. you followed, moving off of him and laying on your side.

“how long are you here?” topper asked minutes later, his breathing leveling out.

“i leave sunday morning,” you said, blinking tired eyes open as a wind blew over you.

“can i see you again?”

you smiled, your eyes shifting to topper beside you. “don’t you mean can you fuck me again?”

his lips spread wide and if his eyes were open, you had a feeling he’d be rolling them. laughing, you pushed yourself onto your elbow and touched his cheek.

“liza is having a party tomorrow. you should come,” you said quietly, leaning down to brush your lips over his.

“okay.”

“that was easy.”

“it doesn’t take much to convince me,” his voice was tired, piquing your interest.

“am i that good?”

all you got in return was a low laugh.

“i’m taking that as a ‘hell yes’ so thank you very much.”

topper let out a noise just before he moved, pushing you onto your back. his lips landed over yours, gentle and thorough.

saturday

it was a blur of drinks and games and dancing at liza’s house. every room was filled and it was hot for a few hours until you stationed yourself out on the deck with topper. you could lie and say that you didn’t sit out there just to make out with him, but that’s exactly what you did. it was perfect—even more perfect when his shitty friends didn’t show up with him. if you hadn’t been so distracted by his mouth, you would’ve thanked him then and there.

hours later, you had met topper at the front door. you informed liza of your new plans and she was more than happy to get you out of her hair, especially when her eyes latched on to someone and she started to drool into her drink. you grinned fiendishly at her and quickly went on your way.

topper was unlocking his front door and your legs were still a little tingly from the drinks you had over the past few hours. your hand absentmindedly ran along his forearm, needing to feel him so you could stay grounded and alert.

“if you don’t open this door, i’m going to fall asleep right on this porch.”

topper laughed, his keys jingling in his hand. it was a few more seconds of him trying without a light until he eventually found the keyhole and the door swung open. there was a rug that the bottom of the door brushed over and topper walked ahead of you, leading you in by the arm you refused to let go of. he was warm and solid. if you let go, you might evaporate.

your eyes adjusted with the lack of light in the entryway as topper closed the door behind you, sliding the lock into place. your skin felt like it was humming, the hairs on your arm standing up as you stayed close to topper. his shoes scuffed as he kicked them off, his keys dropping onto a table near the door while his other hand wrapped around your wrist. he lured you in by heat alone and you leaned in. your lips landed on his shirt, but you moved them until you found warm skin past the neckline.

reaching down, you found the strap of your sandals and worked to get them undone. why you wore sandals was completely lost on you as you struggled. topper grabbed ahold of you so you wouldn’t fall while your lips pressed a few more kisses into his neck. his hands were searing against your shirt and your skin pricked with the need to have them everywhere.

you kicked off your shoes, feeling your bare foot brush other pairs as topper grabbed ahold of your neck. you didn’t know where he was leading you until his lips landed against your cheek. he adjusted to where he meant to land and opened your lips with his own, coaxing your tongue with his. you moaned as if you were melting, your hands moving along his back as your body relaxed into his. another noise slipped from you, your hands moving down to his hips. one of them you let venture further until you felt him straining against his jeans.

topper gasped, his breath fanning over your mouth and down your neck. you grinned as you squeezed him just so you could see how he’d react.

it was cut short by light flooding the room and burning behind your eyelids. you flinched, parting from topper and squinting.

you were doing so well with no interruptions.

“topper? oh—i’m sorry,” a voice came from your left and you held your eyes open long enough to see a woman standing there, her hand falling from the light switch.

you suddenly remembered where you were holding topper and you dropped your hand, a hot blush crawling up onto your cheeks. you shuffled away from topper faster than he did at composing himself. was it wishful thinking to hope this woman didn’t see where your hand was placed a second ago?

“mom,” topper breathed, hiding his lack of breath well. your own heart was beating so loudly in your ears you figured the woman could hear it too in the entryway.

you averted your eyes, embarrassment dousing you from head to toe at the fact that you’d been caught by topper’s mother.

“we’ll be in my room,” topper said. his hand engulfed yours and you couldn’t remember how to use your feet or legs. “night.”

you kept your head down as topper tugged you past his mother, her robe flowing with the movement. he guided you through the unlit house until you came to his room.

“christ,” he sighed and dropped your hand to close the door. “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s inevitable when you live with parents,” you shrugged and laughed, looking over your shoulder as topper rubbed his hands down his face. when he dropped them, he shook his head with an amused smile.

you turned back to his room and glanced around, the light a little brighter from the open windows. the decorations were the same, but for the most part it didn’t look all that lived in. you moved to his bed and sat at the end of it, running your hands along the comforter and remembering the last time you were here.

your eyes found topper’s like a magnet. your skin pricked with that awareness of him. reaching, you pulled your shirt off and let it fall beside you. topper watched, his eyes following every movement you made, his gaze moving over you like liquid.

you held your hand out towards him, coaxing him over where you sat. he approached until he was in front of you and even then, you pulled him closer with your hands on his hips again. your eyes fluttered shut as he came between your legs and touched your face, bending down to plant kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and nose. your thighs tightened around him, your hand dropping back to its original spot before you were interrupted. topper kissed you on the mouth then, his tongue hot and invading.

you pushed your palm into him a few times and rubbed until his breath was heavy in your mouth. even though you were kissing him and delighting in the ways he could use his tongue, your mouth felt dry for him. a moment later, your fingers glided up to the button of his jeans, working determinedly to unfasten them.

when his shirt was off and his jeans were unbuttoned, you nudged him backward, slipping from the bed and onto your knees. you pressed your lips along his stomach, feeling it tighten under your mouth as his hands brushed your hair back.

“tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you said quietly, looking up at him as your fingers fisted the waistband of his jeans, slipping into his boxers too.

topper heaved a breath and nodded. you pressed another kiss just beside his belly button as you tugged on his bottoms, pulling them past his hips and leaving them to rest just above his knees.

you didn’t waste any more time. you took him into your mouth within the first few seconds of him smacking his stomach. he moaned with your lips around him and held your face as you licked him thoroughly. you couldn’t stop once you started and it took everything in you not to give him that release as his hand tightened on your face and his hips began to move.

he didn’t protest or get upset when you pulled away, licking your lips and standing. he just kissed you deeply and you wondered if he liked the taste of himself in your mouth. you certainly did.

all of your blood was gathered at your center. your skin was bubbling to a boil and topper helped you cool down, shedding the rest of the clothes between you. your hands wandered all over him as you sat back on the bed, pulling him with you.

you separated for only a second to kiss just under his ear, panting, “i want you inside me. now. i have an IUD.”

topper’s hands paused, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast. “no condom?” he asked, pulling away further to meet your eyes.

you nodded, biting your lip to keep from putting him inside you now. “as long as you’re okay with it?”

“are you sure?” his eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t tell if he was worried about you or if he really didn’t want to.

you nodded again as you were having trouble finding words without your breath. “have you been tested lately?”

“before i came home. i’m clean,” he said, his hands moving again and squeezing your thighs.

you grinned as your stomach rolled. you pulled him back to you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and smiling against his lips. “me too,” you managed to say and laughed as the excitement poured over.

topper’s skin suddenly felt too hot, but you couldn’t pull your hands away from him if you tried. more blood rushed in between your legs. topper kissed you a few times before pulling away and leaning forward, his hand moving to your lower back to hold you upright while his other landed on the comforter to hold himself up. you drew your legs up around him and tugged him closer, breathing heavily as you anticipated his next move.

he swallowed thickly and averted his eyes down, his hand leaving your skin to grab ahold of himself. you bit your lip as you watched, seeing him swollen and ready and practically dripping. your stomach rolled into a tight ball as his hips grew closer and you bit your lips shut as a noise of surprise left you, floating around the room, when topper dragged his head along your folds painstakingly slow.

as much as you wanted to close your eyes to completely let your senses take over, you lifted them to topper’s face. he closed his eyes as he poked his head at your entrance. when he started to slip inside slowly, his mouth opened and his hand went back to hold you. you held your breath as you felt him inch after inch, filling you and stretching you.

his head fell to your shoulder once he was completely inside, a muffled curse leaving his lips.

“oh my god,” you said at the same time as he said, “god, you feel amazing.”

his hips retracted slowly, just as slow as how he entered, and his lips guided back to yours.

“c-can you move back a little?” he asked. the angle was probably straining him unlike you.

you nodded and didn’t have to do all that much as his hand kept you close to him, keeping himself inside of you, as you moved further onto the bed. you laid on your back and moaned as topper started to move, pinning your hips below his.

“you need to be quiet,” he said.

“why?”

“because my mom is right down the hall.”

“so? she obviously knows what we’re doing.”

“still.”

“oh, topper,” you moaned a little louder, a smile curling the corners of your lips.

topper’s hand landed over your mouth. you laughed into his palm and opened up to bite on his finger.

“you should move that hand a little lower,” you suggested, rolling your hips into his.

topper laughed breathily and a moment later, moved his hand to your neck. his hips drew back then and he thrusted, harder than before.

“oh, fuck,” you panted, tightening your hold on him.

“you like that?” he asked, his fingers flexing on your throat.

“mhm,” you managed, your face screwing up. “just like that.”

you sucked in a gasp, your breath staying in your lungs as topper did it again. you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but feel everything he was doing to you from your throat to him between your thighs. your back arched, pushing your breasts into his chest. you cried out the next time he thrust, hitting you so deeply, your nipples peeked to hardened points. fuck.

“don’t stop,” you couldn’t stop gasping. “please, don’t stop. it feels so good.”

tears pricked your eyes as he did it again, picking up a rhythm and sticking to it. his hand let go of your throat and gathered your hands into his, pinning them above your head as he fucked into you. the harder he went, the more your nails dug into the backs of his hands. his fingers tightened over yours and you cried out with your hips smacking. he didn’t cover your mouth this time, suddenly not caring if his mom heard you. you didn’t care either, you wanted this to go on all night. hopefully it would.

tears spilled when he didn’t let up his grip or his pace. they fell more as he drove into you quicker. it hurt so good, you couldn’t breathe. you didn’t dare open your eyes to see if he was enjoying it too. you hoped he was, you hoped he was loving pinning your hands down, driving into you like an animal. you didn’t know topper had this in him.

his hand let go of one of yours but you left it where it was as his thumb flicked your clit. your breaths grew higher within seconds and you tightened around him, your free hand flying to his arm where your nails dug in deep. you couldn’t stop the cry bubbling in your chest even if you wanted to. it was going to come out whether you liked it or not and topper wasn’t doing anything to muffle it.

“fuck—i’m going to come,” he sighed, his voice strained. was he losing it too? “come for me, please, baby. come with me.”

“top—” your muscles spasmed and everything exploded. you cried out his name however many times as you came over him, feeling him do the same as he thrusted and emptied inside you. his spurts were heavy and warm as his face buried into your neck, his mouth slick one moment then his teeth latching on to you. you grabbed the back of his head and pulled at his hair as he bit you, not hard enough to break the skin, but it still hurt so good.

“oh my god,” you panted as topper lay limp on you. you could feel both of your orgasms dissipating as your juices mixed and dripped out of you.

having let go of your neck, topper licked over the pulsing spot and lifted his head up to look down at you.

“are you okay?” he asked, sweat collected along his hairline. his thumb brushed your drying tears away.

“that was—i—topper,” you shook your head, wishing you could find the words. “i feel very good right now.”

he laughed, shaking your body with his and making you moan as you felt him rub inside of you. “i’m glad,” he said, kissing the underside of your jaw. “i think we need water and snacks so i’m going to go get some.”

“mmm. that’s a good idea.” you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe his sweat away just to feel it on your fingertips. you were spent.

he smiled and pecked your numb lips before sliding out of you and getting up.

cleaned up and under the covers, topper laid out an array of snacks and water bottles. you sat propped up against his pillows while he lay on his side, his head propped against his hand.

“will you come back next summer?” he asked, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

you reached for the cereal bowl of chocolate and stopped the smile from stretching across your face. “maybe.”

“i was looking for an answer more along the lines of yes.”

“you’ll have to be more persuasive then,” you hummed and chewed.

“i can be persuasive.” he was grinning and you couldn’t help thinking that he never looked better. tired, hair messy, dressed in just boxers, completely sated.

“oh yeah?” you raised a brow at him.

“mhmm,” he nodded, putting the fruit down and moving onto his hands and knees to crawl towards you. he grabbed ahold of the comforter and pulled it back a little, revealing your chest to the cool air. his head lowered to press a single kiss to the swell of your breast. then he moved to the other. he pressed a final kiss to your shoulder.

“how’s that?”

you shrugged the shoulder he just kissed and kept the smile off your face. mostly.

topper grinned again and it reached his eyes. he looked over you, down your chest, then slid his hand under the blanket to your thigh. “am i getting closer?”

you gasped and grabbed onto the back of his neck as his fingers ran up the inside of your thigh. heat swirled between your legs. “definitely.”

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#topper thornton #outer banks #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x fem!reader #topper thornton obx #topper thornton smut #topper thornton imagine

[illfoandillfie]

Okay first a smutty one 😏 smth where ben is like super bored and it’s a rainy day and reader keeps suggesting different things they could do like board games or baking etc but he shoots everything down until finally she’s like ok you come up with smth geez and then he just tackles her and they Do It

thank you for giving me excuses to be a whore about ben sdkjsdllkdjskjsd I just really enjoy writing smut with these two cause they're such dorks and just like making each other laugh which is cute and fun.

Anyway, I did not proof read this or anything because I finished writing it at 12.40 am (ahhhh help i need to be up for work in 5 and a half hours) so apologies for any mistakes.

Words: 2,566

Warnings: Smut (obviously), a lil hint of oral (f receiving), some fingering, a single slap on the arse.

Ben jerked aside the curtain hanging over the bedroom window, humming in discontent as he confirmed that it was still raining. “Stop checking the window Ben,” you sighed, only half paying attention to him over your novel, “You heard the weather report, it won’t let up for another day at least.” “Well you know weather presenters are wrong half the time,” You chose to ignore him, much more interested in the book.  Unfortunately for you, Ben still had some complaining to get out of his system.  “I’m so sick of this weather. You know we were meant to be playing cricket today,” “Mmhmm,” “I like rain as much as the next person but this is fucking ridiculous.” “Just invite some of the others over then,” you said, pulling your eyes from the page in the hopes that displaying your interest now would give you ample time to read later, “play video games or something,” “It’s not the same,” You could have laughed at Ben’s expression as his gave another wistful glance at the window. He’d always vaguely reminded you of a puppy, especially when he got excited about something, but the comparison was even more obvious now. He’d checked the window about six times over the course of the morning, each time looking crestfallen when no blue sky had materialised. The constant downpour seemed to be driving him bonkers. You, on the other hand, were coping quite well if you said so yourself. Aside from having to work on the first two days of the rain, you’d used the dreary weather as an excuse to stay in bed, wearing your comfies, drinking steaming mugs of tea and coffee, as you read and played games on your laptop. At first you’d hoped that Ben would be similarly inclined, and you’d pictured scenes of the two of you cozied up on the couch or cooking a hot, comforting meal together. Proper rainy day stuff. Alas, Ben wasn’t interested in sitting still, preferring to wander around the house, looking through curtains and complaining about what he saw through them. Hardly surprising really since he’d been indoors indulging in warm comfort those first days while you were working. When he didn’t get much sympathy from you, Ben left the bedroom again, (heading off to try a different window you assumed) and let you get back to your book.

You lost track of time, thoroughly enjoying yourself as you snuggled into your nest, sitting up straight when you got to a particularly intense section. Once the action calmed down you rearranged the pillows to give your back a little more support and settled into the story once more. Ben did cross your mind once or twice in slower chapters, but only because the absence of his frustrated sighing was notable. Eventually he reappeared in the room though, almost sulky in the way he slumped towards you, collapsing face down across the width of the bed.  “What’s up Blondie?” You kept your eyes fixed to the page.  “’m bored,” “So find something to do,” “There’s nothing to do here.” “You could read with me,” you shifted your hands on the book, holding it open as you moved one hand to tap the spot on the bed beside you. “Nah, don’t feel like reading.” Sensing that the conversation wouldn’t be a quick one you focused your attention on Ben, “If you let me finish this chapter then we could play a board game.” Ben pushed himself up but gave a non-committal shrug.” “Or watch a movie?” “Nah, I don’t want to just sit around,” “Well Rach gave me that recipe book for Christmas right? We could bake something? Or...” Feeling a little more frustrated you scanned the room for inspiration. Where once you’d only seen Ben’s trinkets and collected items, you now saw a mix of things that belonged to both of you. Your books were next to his on the shelf, the lucky cat you’d bought him was accompanied by a figurine of your zodiac symbol that he’d picked up on a whim, the desk was a mess of printed out guitar chords and notebooks that contained scribbles in both of your handwriting as well as a few stray lipsticks and earrings. But none of it really sparked any ideas to occupy Ben.  “You could give this room a tidy,” it wasn’t a serious suggestion but you made it anyway, knowing it would be shot down. “See, there’s nothing to do here!” “Well I don’t then Ben. You don’t like any of my suggestions, so come up with something yourself. Just please stop moping around, it’s giving me the shits.”

You dropped your eyes back to your book, waiting to feel the bed shift as Ben stood and the sound of him crossing the room to the door. Instead there was silence for a moment. And the next thing you knew was being knocked back, just barely managing to hold onto your book, so you were lying across the bed with Ben on top of you. “I found something I want to do,” he said, resting his chin on your chest and giving you his best pleading puppy eyes. “Oh alright,” you said, trying not to laugh, “But let me mark my page so I don’t lose my place.” Ben lifted his head as he reached over and plucked the, slightly crushed, book from between you, replacing your bookmark before dropping it to the floor. “There’s a bedside table right th-” before you could finish your sentence, Ben leaned down again and kissed you. It was a deep kiss, Ben’s tongue pressing towards your throat as he gently grinded his hips against yours. You were nearly breathless when he pulled away and yet it felt like it had barely started.  “Someone’s in a hurry,” you said, watching as Ben hurriedly began to undress you, peeling your leggings off before going for your shirt. “Well,” he said, pausing appreciatively as he realised you hadn’t bothered with a bra, “Now that I’m thinking about your pussy....”  You laughed as he snapped the band of your underpants to emphasis his point and then quickly rolled them down your legs too.  “Well, here she is,” you bit your lip playfully as you spread your legs, offering Ben a view to rival his imagination. Ben grinned, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth before he leaned towards your cunt, holding your gaze. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself as he stuck his tongue further out and licked along your slit, noting the way you shivered in delight. You hummed as he repeated the action, settling back against the mattress as Ben settled into a rhythm. But, just as you were really starting to enjoy it, the first sign of your arousal pooling between your legs, Ben stopped.

With a slight groan of disappointment you pushed yourself up to see if there was a partiuclar reason he’d stopped touching you. The sight of Ben, rolled onto his back, legs in the air as his discarded his own pants and underwear, greeted you. Apparently he’d already managed to get his shirt off in the time it took you to sit up. You couldn’t help but giggle as his feet flicked through the air, trying to kick his pants off.  “And what is so funny?” “Nothing, Tiger. Just enjoying the show.” “Oh yeah? You like that, huh? Well what about,” Ben’s feet fell back to the bed and he raised his hips into the air as his fingers caught the waistband of his briefs.  You cheered him on as he tugged them down to this thighs and then raised his legs again to pull them off entirely. His arse was completely on display for you and you couldn’t quite resist the sudden urge to lean over and swat his cheek. “You’re a freak,” he laughed, flipping himself over and crawling towards you. Both of you were still laughing as he kissed you again, the comforting weight of his body pinning your down. You could feel the length of his dick resting against your thigh so slid your hand down to stroke it, feeling yourself getting wetter as he hardened against your palm.  “Why don’t you touch yourself for me Kitten,” Ben cooed, reaching down to wrap his fingers around your wrist, “Promise I don’t need any help getting ready for you.”  Your breath caught at the petname, a recent addition to your sexual dynamic but a fun one, and you did as Ben suggested, letting his guide your hand away from his cock. You were wet but not quite enough to take him comfortably. Ben kissed you again as your dragged your fingers through your folds, but it didn’t last long. He wanted to watch, sitting back on his knees to get a proper look at your fingers circling your clit.  “That’s right, keep going like that. I want to see you leaking over the sheets.” You were beginning to feel the familiar want growing in the pit of your stomach. That empty feeling that only Ben could properly fix. You groaned and let your fingers trail down towards your entrance. But before you could sink any of them into the wet heat of your cunt, you felt your walls softly stretch around one of Ben’s.  “Is that what you needed Kitten?” “Yeah, thanks,” you managed to get out between shaky breaths, resuming the previous attention on your clit. “Any time,” Ben chuckled, slowly pulling his finger out of you, circling your hole, and sliding it back in a little deeper. You keened as Ben began to finger you, getting the one finger as deep as he could before he added a second.  Your orgasm grew steadily closer as you adjusted to the width of his fingers and Ben’s touch became less delicate, your own speeding up with his. And then his touch disappeared.

For the second time you looked up, pushing yourself to rest on one elbow, wondering where he’d gone and why he was teasing you. You kept working your fingers over your clit but it wasn’t quite the same and you couldn’t help but whine as you felt the loss acutely.  Ben didn’t bother to reply. Words would just waste time. Instead he grasped one of your shins, adjusting your leg so it was closer to your body but spread further, as he shuffled forward on his knees. His dick was harder than when you’d felt it before and he wrapped his fist around the stiff length to guide it towards your waiting pussy.  You’d thought his fingers had felt good but it was nothing to the way he filled you then, pulling a moan from you faster than you’d have believed possible. Ben leaned forward on his knees as he sank into you, pulling out slowly after a moment and then pushing forward again, letting you get used to feeling.  “C’mon Benny, fuck me,” you whined, the fingers on your clit faltering as he gave you a sharp thrust, “Yeah, like that.”  Ben nodded, looking as if just swallowing was a challenge, let alone getting out words. He dropped his hands to your stomach, slowly sliding them up until he was cupping your breasts, his thumb and forefinger circling around the underside of them so he could feel them bounce with each jolt of his hips.  You tried to keep rubbing your clit but keeping yourself upright was a struggle so you shifted your hand away, better able to prop yourself up on two elbows than just the one.  Ben didn’t seem to mind, focusing his energy on fucking you hard and deep. It seemed that, now he was inside you, his eagerness had been tempered and he had no qualms with drawing the moment out.  “Jesus Y/N,” he grunted as you clenched without warning, his hips stuttering out of time as you kept him from drawing back as far as he had been.  You just whined in response.  “Fuck this is hot. Watching how you take me. How perfect your cunt looks stretched open on my cock. I’m going to fuck you until your cunt is red and sore from how well I’ve used it. And I’m going to watch the whole time.” You whined again, louder and more urgently, as his words went straight to your core, making you clench again.  “Does that mean you want to cum?” Ben teased, knowing full well how close you were getting.  It was harder to see the funny side of his comments when your whole body felt tense with an impending orgasm. The torturous stopping and starting he’d put you through had only heightened your need and the lack of clitoral stimulation made you desperate for more. Ben had managed to get you off with just penetration once or twice but it was never as good as the combination of his dick moving inside you and your clit being played with. And he knew that’s how you liked to get off best.

Ben gave your breast a quick squeeze before he shifted his hand, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it. You clenched at the sudden added stimulation and moaned, loudly, your orgasm rocketing towards you as you balled the sheets up in your fists. Your arms felt unstable as Ben speared into you harder, trying to push you over the edge, perfectly filling you.  “Oh, oh, oh!” you choked out, right on the precipice of release.  Ben grit his teeth as his hips slammed towards yours a few times, his balls slapping against you with the motion.  It was enough. A final push to get you over the edge, the cry of ecstasy catching in your throat along with your breath. Ben swore and groaned as your pussy tightened with your release, making an effort to keep fucking you, though it wasn’t easy to maintain an even pace.  You managed to choke out his name as your arms gave out and you collapsed on your back, panting.  Ben pulled out but you barely noticed, so overtaken by the warm pleasure of your orgasm. It wasn’t until he grunted and you felt the first drops of his cum hitting your stomach that you realised he’d wanked himself off over you. You lay still as spurt after spurt hit you, watching as well as you could as his fist continued to pump over his length, milking every last drop from his cock.  Finally he sat back, sounding a little breathless.  Slowly you pushed yourself to sit up, “Well?” “Well what?” “Did you get it out of your system? Can you just sit and read or whatever for a while now?” Ben shrugged, “It helped. Might get bored again pretty soon though,” You laughed, “Well don’t expect a repeat any time soon. I’m quite content to finish my book.” “Aww c’mon,” Ben was struggling not to smile too much, “Don’t pretend you weren’t extremely turned on by the idea of fucking you until you’re sore.” You ignored him, turning towards the beside draws so you could find something to clean up with. “You could keep reading if you wanted. Wouldn’t have to do anything except lie there, I promise. And I’d just fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until I wasn’t bored anymore.” You gave a thoughtful hum, “Just lie there you say?”

#my writing #my blurbs #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #platonically event #i have truely terrible time management skills kdakdjskddskds #but i thought i should give ya'll something smutty and fun considering the last couple have been Feelingsy lmao #anyway #Lauren is the most valid for coming up with this idea and also for requesting multiple things!!! #love you babe

[nyxocity]

Fic Writer Questions!

Thanks to @redmyeyes for the tag!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

82, although that's not even close to my actual total. There's a bunch on LJ that have never been transferred (all shorter works)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,780,805 (over 2mil on LJ)

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mostly three, plus a couple dips into a few other pools. X-Men Comic Book fandom, Buffy & Angel fandom (they kinda count as one since it's the same universe), and Supernatural & SPN RPF. Dips have included Dragon Age, Firefly, a tiny bit of TVD, a Sons of Anarchy crossover.

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is tough if I go by numbering. Homework Verse has the most kudos scattered across all parts, but Stranger Than Fiction has the most as a single story. Anyway...

Homework Verse (J2 RPF, 200k+ words) - My very first RPF fic, Supernatural or otherwise. Two of my online fandom friends basically TOLD me I was going to write Teacher/Student J2, and I kept protesting that I drew the line at RPF. They didn't care. 200k later, here we are. This story was a game changer for me; it made me fandom famous. I still love those boys with my whole heart, and they still talk to me sometimes.

Stranger Than Fiction (Sam/Dean, 50644 words) - This story idea took root immediately following the episode The Monster at the End of This Book. I quit the Big Bang I'd already begun writing for that year (which was Who Watches Over Me, which I finished and posted for BB the following year) to write this story. It just took hold hold of me and took over. I wrote it in 6 weeks and it was easily the most fun I ever had writing anything--I cackled like a madwoman most of the time.

Who Watches Over Me (J2 RPF, 96591 words) - This story was, at the time, the toughest thing I'd ever written. Little did I know that would become the norm and not the exception, as I began to write more complex stories. It was by far the longest story I had ever posted all at once in its entirety (rather than chapter by chapter) and I had no idea if people would like it. Fortunately a lot of people did.

Like Staring Into the Sun (Sam/Dean, 23243 words) - Ah, my very first hardcore Wincest fic. I remember writing the first chapter of the story (meant to be a one shot honestly), and just sitting there, at 5am, being terrified to post it. It was twisted, dark and intense and SO porny I was scared people might think I was weird. There wasn't anything like it out there at the time. As it turns out, people loved it so much I ended up writing eight more parts.

Like a Fish Out of Water (Sam/Dean, 59498 words) - I have a lot of love for this story. It didn't come to me easily, but it was fun to write. I remember smiling a lot and just having a nice, warm cozy feeling the whole time. I had no idea if anyone was interested in reading this many words of what amounted to a dramedy curtain fic

Of course there are other stories that I feel deserve love, but I can't argue with these.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do. And by that, I mean I try. I don't always succeed in answering them all, but I answer as many as I have time and energy for. Life is busy and there is writing to do as well. I read every comment I get (multiple times) and I feel guilty for all the ones I don't answer, because they mean SO MUCH TO ME. Like you took time to leave this beautiful, well thought out comment, or even a keysmash, or a heart, in response to something I wrote. That means the world.

I WISH there was a reaction function for comments on Ao3, so I could heart things, or laugh in response. Replying with emojis without words feels weird. So yeah, a reaction function would be amazing. But in the meantime, I do my best.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably A Touch of Evil. Interestingly, it's also a HAPPY ending, so there you go lol. It's a serial killer love story with a happy ending that comes at an exorbitant price.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I'm not sure why the OG post skips from 6 to 8 lol . So, yes, I have written a few minors crossovers. Mostly Faith in the SPN verse with the boys, nothing too crazy, because she fits right in. But for long stories, I have written all of ONE crossover. It's Dean Winchester/Jax Teller (SPN / Sons of Anarchy). My crossovers so far have tended to make sense to crossover, so I don't think any of them are crazy.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I got some hate on a Buffy/Xander fic back in the day. I got really excited and had fun with it. Like yeah, now I'm SOMEBODY! You're no one til someone hates you lol Most of that was people who were haters of the ship, or were like, gross, they're like brother and sister (they weren't, they were FRIENDS). I've gotten nasty comments here and there on some of my SPN fic. My favorite was the person who accused me of having a "Top Dean Agenda". I STILL laugh about that one. I don't respond to that crap.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Have you MET ME? LOL If I ever post a story without smut just put me out to pasture, because I'm done. And all kinds. Het, Gay, PWP, Plotty porn, mostly super kinky but some vanilla (but intense). I used to challenge myself regularly to see if I could up my kink game--like hmm, but could I write THIS? I haven't written really kinky sex in a long time, though. Might be time to do that.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Several times. Who Watches Over me was stolen by someone and converted to One Direction Lourry fic. Literally just did a name change. Someone else stole a bunch of my one shots and passed them off as their own. I know there were a couple other instances but I only vaguely remember. I never got too deep into it, most of the time the people who discovered the theft already told everyone else too, and the plagiarist had been hammered by them so hard that I didn't have to step in before they took it down.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. I used to get requests so often that I just posted my usual response in my profile for people to read instead of replying. Definitely into Russian and Chinese for most of the stories listed with most kudos above.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A few times on one shot fics. SO MUCH FUN. I love co-writing with people.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

Sam/Dean. Easily. Hands down. I just love their unique relationship, bond and love so much.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Well I finally finished A Touch of Evil after posting 3 chapters in 2009 and never touching it again until 2017. And I never thought I'd finish that. So never say never, I say. That said, there's the third and final part of my X-Men comic book epic that remains unfinished by about five (shorter) chapters, and it HAUNTS ME. But I don't think I'll ever finish it.

16) What are your writing strengths?

NOW we get to the hard questions. I'm really good at dialogue, bouncing banter back and forth between characters, and I have a sense for how long a scene should be. I just KNOW when it's going on too long, even if there's more that needs to be said, and I try to tighten it up in that case.

A friend of mine once told me "Porn is my gift". I don't write as much of it as I used to, but yeah, I shine in that area.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

So I always reach a point after writing so many words in an unpublished fic where I'm like, I have no idea if this is even any good/makes sense/hangs together etc. Beyond that, I've been writing for so long that I've had so much practice that I've strengthened a lot of my weaknesses. I'm sure I still have some, but I don't FEEL them like I used to anymore. That said, there are things I simply will not write. Like historical pieces. Because I would research the fuck out of every detail trying to get it perfect and then I would still doubt myself completely.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I mostly try to avoid it, because there's no way I would ever get the language correct. I usually write it in English and then explain that they're saying it in another language. Like, "What are you doing?" the man asks, speaking in Chinese. Then reiterate in the continuing dialogue in various ways that they're speaking in Chinese.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

X-Men Comic Book fandom. I was reading a lot of Remy/Rogue fic back in 1996-1997, and one day I was like, you know what? This person did a pretty good job on this story. It's not great, but it's pretty good, and if they can have the guts to put it out there, then I can do it, too.

20) What���s your favorite fic you’ve written?

This is a tough question. I don't love all my children equally, but I love them all a lot in different ways lol

Remembering favorite is different than which one I think is BEST... Homework Verse is probably my favorite. I was learning so much about writing then, I was really growing, and discovering, and pushing my limits. Those characters lived and breathed in me, I swear they spoke through me from some alternate universe. They feel so REAL to me. There's so much of what I've learned in life in that story, like really, big, life changing ideas and understandings that happened to me that I put into that story. There's so much of me in that story, and yet there's so much of THEM, too. It's their story, but it's also mine. It's raw and not entirely perfect and it feels like home to me.

--

So that's it, that's my piece. I feel like EVERYONE has been tagged since it took me 3 days to have time to do this, but I'm basically tagging any of you writers out there who haven't done this yet!

#my stories #about me #writing #on writing

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Like You, Say It Back.

Ao3,   MasterPost

Wow, Same ship twice in a row? Fuckin sue me, it’s underrated. Plus it’s short so it doesn’t count. 

Relationships: Dukexiety/Intruxiety

Warnings: Crying, perceived one-sided relationship (it isn’t!! he was Mistaken), Mentions of some Remus-y thoughts/ideas/habits, hurt/comfort, Remus angst, brief miscommunication, cursing. Short and Sweet, for the most part :3. One kissy ^x^

Word Count: 1,585

Remus stilled in shock, his hands tensed up against his partner’s back. 

“What did you just say?”

Virgil shifted back from their close embrace, eyes wide and nervous. Remus was too busy losing his mind to be concerned about his boyfriend’s mounting distress, unfortunately. What had Virgil said? He must've misheard, surely.

“That I love you? You- uh, you don't have to say it back, if it's, like, too soon, or whatever,” Virgil rambled, confirming that yep, nope, Remus hadn't misheard anything.

Too soon! Now, that was the furthest thing from the issue. They'd been dating for two months, after all. Though Remus didn't typically prescribe to social standards, that was probably more than enough time to use the L-word. In fact, there were plenty of times where the Creative facet himself had to actively prevent himself from blurting it out (be it by swallowing cement or suturing his mouth shut, and various other means). 

Remus’ brand of affection did not mesh well with someone as easily spooked as his partner. But God, he tried to get it under control, because Virgil was worth it. Virgil was worth patience and gentleness and holding his breath, waiting and waiting. He’d even waited until he was 100% sure his and Virgil's fractured friendship was fully mended to attempt to ask the trait out, despite having been in love with him since they were young. Very few things scared Remus- really scared him, to the point of breaking his pledge of constant bluntness and honesty- but losing the people he cared about easily made that short list. 

But Virgil had agreed to go out with him. 'Yeah, sure,' he'd muttered, face a little pinker and back a little straighter than normal, 'Sounds fun, I guess.' 

To anyone else, it would've sounded noncommittal, lackluster, but to Remus- fuck, it was the best thing in the world. Virgil was really going to give him a chance! 

Remus never expected it to last long. One date, maybe. When said date had actually gone really well (Vee had even let him kiss him!), he'd amended that they might have a week in them. Lo and behold, ten weeks later, and Virgil had yet to dump him.

The end, Remus had assumed, was going to come soon. He was okay with that- don't get him wrong! He adored his boyfriend, reveled in their time together, but he'd already gotten so much further than ever thought he would. It only made sense that Anxiety would eventually get frustrated and fed up with humoring him. Remus had made peace with that, long since appeased with whatever he’d already gotten out of this.

At least, he had thought he was at peace. Now there was this fucking curveball. 

“You love me? Like, actually?”

The nervousness dropped from Virgil’s face, replaced by bemusement. Remus got a close view of it from his seat on the other’s lap. His favorite place to be, typically, but at that moment the proximity bordered on overwhelming. Not like he was going to move, though.

“Ye- yeah? Is that a surprise to you?”

Remus barked out a laugh, throwing his head back to distract from the slight stinging he felt at the corners of his eyes. A surprise? That was one hell of an understatement! Virgil was so cavalier about it, too, like it wasn’t the strangest thing Remus had ever heard. Like it didn’t make his heart leap up into his throat, and not even in the cool, literal way. 

“You love me! Two months of-” he made a sharp gesture between them, “-this and you’ve come to the conclusion that you love me,” it wasn't quite believable in Remus’ mind. His face was splitting in a grin, but he shook as he grasped at Virgil’s shoulders, tears steadily clouding his vision. It felt like his insides were exploding, and not at all in a bad way. Like someone had pumped his chest full of Build-A-Bear stuffing and bright-colored candy, his skin splitting at the seams to try and hold it all. Which was unequivocally fun and amazing, of course.

Virgil, for one, seemed floored by that reaction.

“Okay, I'll be honest, I had no idea how you were gonna react- I never do, really, but- you're laughing?”

Remus leaned his head back down, more cackles escaping him. The look on Virgil’s face was a mask of shock, from what he could make out through his haze. Oh, he was crying in earnest now, for sure. Big, gloopy streams of salt-water pouring down from his ruby-red eyes.

“I never, ever thought that you would say it,” he made a noise between a snort and a sob, “And you did!”

Suddenly, Remus was jostled from his boyfriend’s lap. Virgil had his back pressed against the arm of the couch, one leg stuck out to maintain distance between them. Remus went silent instantly, the only noises left from him being soft hiccups from his ugly crying. 

“What the hell is this- us- then? Why are we together if you think this isn't- fuck, wait, you’re crying now? What is happening?!” 

Remus gawked, watching his boyfriend coil up with anger across from him. He scrambled for what to say, and for once found it to be a struggle. He scooted forward, fully aware that he was probably cornering Virgil but too frantic to be concerned about it. 

“No- no, I wasn't laughing at you, Vee, I didn’t mean it to look like I was!”

Virgil was wary. Remus didn't blame him; he knew his little Jack-O-Lantern wasn’t very good at reading people. 

“What’s funny, then?”

“It isn't,” he struggled, “I was- surprised? I just never thought you’d be saying- saying that,” Remus cringed internally at his wording, because wow this was not coming across right. Frustrated, he tangled a hand in his hair, wishing he could just pluck out his eyes to stop the crying. That probably would only freak Virgil out more, though. 

Or perhaps not, given that he didn’t seem like he could get much more distressed. There was an uncomfortably quiet moment where he seemed to be carefully analyzing what Remus meant- which made it all the more relieving when it did click for him. Remus was sure he couldn’t explain any better in the state he was in.

“You-” Virgil’s expression turned to dismay, “Oh, fuck, did you mean… you thought that I just… didn't?” 

Opening his mouth to speak, Remus found all he could manage was a small nod.

Without further warning, Virgil jolted across the small distance between them and crushed Remus in a hug. The Duke reeled, his hands just barely ghosting over the other's arms. He must have been off his game, letting so much sentimentality get to him. He was the most unshakeable being in the whole MindPalace!

“It- it just didn't make sense, ya know? When you agreed to go out with me. I was basically 100% sure you'd be grossed out, or just ignore me- I only really asked because I couldn't not. You know how I am with filters! And you were so- so you,” his ramble started softly, growing steadily louder and more pitchy.

Virgil didn't respond more than tightening his grip around Remus, resting his chin on Remus’ head. The side carried on anyway.

“I knew we were friends, I knew you cared about me- I'm not the sharpest scalpel in the patient, but I don't hate myself nearly enough to tell myself that you still hated me- so I figured you were just humoring me. Obviously, I'm like ‘hell yeah, let's see how long it takes for him to get sick of this’,” it wasn't funny, but Remus laughed again anyway, “Which I guess will take a little longer than I thought, huh?”

Virgil pulled his head back, fixing Remus with an intense gaze. The eye shadow beneath his eyes had sunken and darkened, creeping down his face in inky spiderlegs of ‘makeup’.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he hissed, “You’re the most annoying person I've ever met, and I’m never getting sick of you,” he slid one of his hands down to where Remus was barely resting his own on Virgil's waist, twining their fingers together. “And if you think for even a second otherwise, then you're also the dumbest person I've ever met.”

A fresh wave of tears ran down Remus’ cheeks, the saline taste creeping into his mouth. He squeezed Virgil's hand once, then twice, just to bring himself to some semblance of stability. Eventually, though, he caved into what his mind was really screaming to do, shifting forwards to kiss his boyfriend. It was messy, salty, and broken up by bouts of Remus' relieved giggling. Regardless, neither side let the other go for minutes on end, until both were breathless and light-headed.

“Hey, Scarecrow?” Remus’ breathing was shaky in the way it only gets after settling down from a good cry, not to mention shallow from the kissing. Virgil's two-tone eyes met his, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Mhmm?”

Virgil was wrapped around him with all his limbs, surprisingly clingy. The presence was warm, something he hadn’t expected when they first got close. Virgil was always cozy like a fire, one that you’d be happy to burn to death in. Remus nuzzled into the anxious trait’s shoulder, tired and excited all at the same time.��

“I almost forgot to say,” he traced his claws, gently, up Virgil’s arm, “That I love you, too.”

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu

#i have one trick and its this #character laughs cuz they r surprised and other character thinks they r laughing at them #its my one think i do #u could also call it #lackluster writing devices #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides #ts #tss #dukexiety #intruxiety #virgil #remus #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic

[bastardtetsu]

{day 13} falling slowly | semi x reader

pairing: semi eita x gn!musician!reader

genre: angst, mutual pining or unrequited love depending on how you look at it

wc: 1.8k

warnings: a little swearing, reader who plays piano/sings, mention of a previous relationship, unresolved feelings, just a lot of pain

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

falling slowly eyes that know me and i can’t go back

—falling slowly; once (music & lyrics by glen hansard & marketa irglova, book by enda walsh)

“that song you just played— did you write that?”

you stood there, wide-eyed, staring him down as he turned to walk away from the spot where he had just been busking on the sidewalk. semi wanted to ignore you, but your resolute gaze already had a vice grip on him.

“yeah,” he grunted reluctantly.

“it’s very good.”

“thanks.”

despite his gruffness, you were still staring at him like your life depended on it. it was kinda unnerving.

“why’d you leave your guitar?” you questioned him with a sense of urgency, gesturing to the guitar semi had left in its case on the sidewalk. his expression hardened.

“i don’t want it anymore,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

“you should take it. those things are expensive, you know.”

“fine,” he grumbled, shooting you a glare as he stooped to grab the case by the handle, “i’ll sell it if it makes you feel better.”

“i know a shop!” you blurted out, “a music shop. where you can sell your guitar. i was just on my way there, actually!”

“…seriously?”

“it must be fate!”

those words made him cringe back then.

as the two of you entered the store, a cozy place packed with various instruments, you wasted no time making a beeline for the back of the store, dragging a confused semi along with you.

“where are we going? i thought we were here to sell my guitar,” he questioned.

“just follow me,” you insist. the determination in your voice told him there was no point in resisting.

you continued leading him through the shop, all the way to an old upright piano that sat towards the back. “the owner lets me play this whenever i come in,” you explained, your merciless gaze now fixed on the instrument, “it’s a beautiful piano. if i ever win the lottery, this is the first thing i’m buying.”

semi just watched you quietly as you stood there, marveling at it. he was able to appreciate the intensity of your stare more now that he wasn’t the subject of it - the way your eyes glimmered was actually kind of entrancing.

“so what would you like to hear?” you questioned, suddenly turning your gaze back on him as you sat yourself on the bench, “bach? mozart? something of my own?”

“oh, uh— whatever you want,” he muttered. there was clearly no use stopping you at this point, so he might as well comply.

you positioned yourself and began playing. it was a somber melody, gentle but distinctly melancholic. your concentration remained unbroken as your fingers danced gracefully across the keys, until the final mournful note echoed through the empty store.

“did you write that?” semi asked, a bit awestruck by your talent.

“no. felix mendelssohn did.”

“ah.”

“now you play me one,” you demand, eyes aglow.

“wh—no,” semi faltered.

“please,” you begged.

“no,” he stated firmly, his expression hardening again, “i just came here to get rid of my guitar.”

“what do you mean?” you protested, “your music is good, why are you giving up on it?” semi cringed at the sting of your question.

“there’s no point anymore,” he snapped, “it’s gotten me nowhere.”

“what, so you’re quitting ‘cause you’re not famous?”

“i’m not—“ he scoffed defensively, “you wanna play your songs for people who want to listen.”

“well i’m people,” you stated, your gaze on him more unyielding than ever, “and i want to listen. now play me a song.”

the rigidity of your stare was almost enough to convince him.

“no.”

however, just as semi turned to leave, as if by some sort of drama-induced miracle, a sheet of folded paper fell from his coat pocket, which you wasted no time snatching up before he could even grab at it.

“hey—“ he protested, “give it back, come on.”

“music is dead to you, right?” you taunted, “so isn’t this trash?”

“you know what,” he huffed, his patience at its limit, “fuck it—yeah, keep it. it was nice meeting you.”

“hey!” you barked right as he was turning to leave. his head spun around to find your eyes staring him down with the most intensity and desperation he’d seen from you all day. “you won’t die if you play this song with me,” you spoke to him sincerely, “please.”

he didn’t answer, but remained frozen where he stood, unwilling to break from your acute gaze as you lowered yourself onto the bench and placed your fingers on the keys.

you perused the slightly crumpled page while semi waited with nervous anticipation, reminding himself to breathe as you began to play the notes he had scrawled onto the staff.

as your fingers began to recreate the familiar motif with impressive precision, he gingerly picked up his guitar from its case by the piano, looping the strap over his head as he started to sing,

“i don’t know you but i want you all the more for that”

he sang tentatively at first, the words and notes like scratches upon an unhealed scab, until your voiced chimed in with a harmony,

“and words fall through me and always fool me and i can’t react”

semi began to strum at his guitar, more self-assured as the gentle tune continued, your voices and instruments moulding together as the music swelled into chorus after chorus. his reluctant voice became more and more powerful with each changing chord, each strum of his guitar more intentional as the sounds intermingled with yours, creating new discoveries within a painfully familiar refrain.

as the tempo slowed to a quiet halt, your eyes met with his again until you played the final chord in unison. you both stood there in silence for a moment, as if you were waiting for the final sound waves to finish reverberating, dissolving into the air.

“so where is she?” your question broke the silence.

“where’s who?”

“the girl in the song,” you clarified, “is she dead??”

“what—no, jesus,” semi sputtered, caught off guard for what must be the 75th time today.

“so where is she?” your gaze is on him again, adamant as ever.

“she left,” he uttered, his dejection covered by his brusque tone, “about six months ago. there was nothing else for her here, so—”

“so you still love her?”

semi’s face twitched, feeling his chest tighten at the question.

“no. we’re finished,” he stated shortly.

“no one who writes a song like that is finished,” you enunciated firmly, causing his breath to catch. “if you sing this to her, i bet she’ll take you back.”

“huh?” the ash blond’s face twisted into a confused scowl.

“i’m serious.” the gleam in your eye only affirmed your statement.

“no way,” he replied, “i’m not running after some woman who’s doing fine without me just so i can sing her some stupid—“

“it’s not stupid!” you nearly yelled at him before softening a bit, maintaining your resolute stare. “your songs are good,” you stated emphatically. semi felt his breath catch again, this time accompanied by a rush of warmth to his face. “do you have more??”

-

your heart nearly stops when you see it, breath catching in your throat as the sting of tears begins to prick your eyes.

the old upright piano you had spotted one day in a music store now sits in your living room, a large, bright red ribbon adorning its shiny wooden surface. there is no note, but you need no indication to know who it’s from.

he must be long gone now. he got a call from his ex practically begging him to come back, so of course he went. it doesn’t matter how many longing glances you caught as you helped him rehearse, or how much electricity you felt surge through your body every time you so much as brushed his hand while reaching for some sheet music.

he has unfinished business. you’ve both always known that, it’s why you tried so hard to keep your distance, even as you helped him produce a studio album, relentlessly encouraging him not only to keep pursuing music, but to keep pursuing her. it’s what he deserves. it’s not your place.

it doesn’t matter how much your heart wanted to leap out of your chest when his stern grey eyes stared into yours, uncharacteristically earnest, as he squeezed your hands in his and thanked you for changing his life. he was talking about the music. you’ve only ever talked about the music.

it doesn’t matter that no matter how hard you tried to maintain your distance - god, you really tried - his songs always pulled you back in. those songs aren’t about you. he wrote those for someone else, someone who he is destined to go back to.

it doesn’t matter that every time he played one he felt a shift, like discovering a new harmony, each lyric twisting into a different meaning. that somewhere along the way, he started singing them about you — you can’t think about that. it can’t be about that.

it doesn’t even matter that he said you were a part of his new life, starry-eyed and nearly breathless, imploring you with to run away with him and start a band together, make an album, just the two of you and all your beautiful music. it was just a silly fantasy. one can only entertain such a delusion for so long before you have to move on with your real life again.

as you lower yourself onto the piano bench, you imagine yourself back in the shop on that day, the ash-blonde musician you had just met scowling dubiously as you began to play the opening of one of his songs. you can almost hear the delicate strains of his guitar as he plucked the accompaniment on the strings, his voice growing stronger as he sang.

“and games that never amount to more than they’re meant will play themselves out”

you recall sitting with him at the top of a hill just outside of town one night, looking down at the warm lights of the city twinkling in the distant. he told you about the first time he ever felt scared. you told him you only saw him as a friend. could he tell you were lying?

“take this sinking boat and point it home we’ve still got time“

tears begin to well in your eyes, blurring your vision as you play. but you don’t even need to see the keys, because you know this song too well. it’s engraved in your muscle memory. no matter how hard you try, your body will remember.

“raise your hopeful voice you have a choice you’ve made it now”

“call your girl tonight,” you reminded him as you left the recording studio for the last time. he asked you to come over to his place later, but you’re not going. you know better than that.

“falling slowly sing your melody i’ll sing it loud”

the tears are falling freely now, wetting your hands and the keys, but you continue playing as if semi were right there singing along with you, creating sweet harmonies and stirring chords together, losing yourselves in the music.

you allow the song to engulf you, the melody washing over you like a wave of pure feeling as you bid goodbye to the man you fell unwillingly, irreparably in love with.

a/n: i’m not normally an angst person, or a huge semi simp really, but i still ended up hurting my own feelings with this lmao. i’d probably let semi ruin my life as much as he wants too, let’s be real. the songs linked at the top are definitely required listening for this one (the first link is them together in the music shop, the second one is the reprise at the end) and if you really wanna experience pain, find a bootleg of the show & watch the whole thing bc i truly struggled trying not to shove the entire musical into this one fic (once again if u need help finding it i may or may not have a link if u dm me)

taglist: @izagraceee​ @musicgetsmeoutofbed​ @azo-musxas​ @tsumurai @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp @starshaped-raindrops

#haikyuu!! #semi eita #semi eita x reader #semi x reader #haikyuu x reader #25 days of ficmas #.txt #e writes

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Elliot x reader where the reader and Elliot work together and at one point are kinda forced to make small talk and at first it's really awkward and embarrassing and just ANXIETY but as they kinda keep the conversation going forcefully they sorta relate to each other (ok thanks I love your writing happy late St Patrick's day 💚☘️)

I LOVE THIS REQUEST. And I LOVE YOU, Anon 💚

“Alderson. Y/L/N. I want you to run penetration tests on Friday’s network patches. Shouldn’t take you more than a day or two, depending on what you find.”

The sterile-white meeting room suddenly felt about 10 degrees hotter than it had a moment ago, and when you moved your hands from the table to your lap, you noticed the remnants of a foggy imprint left behind on the cool surface. You swiped at it, hoping no one noticed, least of all your new partner.

No one wanted to get paired up or put on a team with Elliot Alderson.

He was quiet, sometimes twitchy, always unapproachable, and went out of his way to take up an indiscriminate amount of space in the office. Granted, you weren’t a social butterfly, but you did say your required good-mornings and good-nights, understanding that this was a social expectation and if you adhered to it, people accepted you. Acceptance was nice. It was normal.

So, you played the game, but only when you left the office behind did you really breathe. You knew that it generally took about 30 minutes, door to door, before you were home in your quiet, cozy apartment, wrapped up in what you called your “introvert’s paradise.”

You often wondered if Elliot was the same. Well, you knew he definitely was not the same considering the great lengths he went to avoid human interaction, which led you to believe there was a lot more going on behind those grey eyes than he’d care to let anyone know.

Ah! And there was the rub.

Elliot Alderson may have been strange, but he was attractive.

During these meetings, you always found yourself wishing for something that later made you feel guilty—you wanted him to talk. It was obvious he hated to speak in front of any gathering larger than, well, 0, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hoped your boss would need his input, which he often did. Another thing everyone knew was that Elliot Alderson was the smartest person in the room.

Yet another reason why your palms were now sweaty as you gathered up your laptop, notebook, and pen and chased after Elliot.

He was always the first one to leave a meeting.

By the time you crossed the office, Elliot was already settled at his computer, his fingers working to push in his earbuds. Before he could get the left-side in, you appeared in his line of vision.  

He stared at you, his lips parted, and had you known better, you would have thought he was a statue, perhaps a modern art piece, titled: “Startling Your Co-Worker in the Age of Digital Communication.”

You weren’t expecting him to be completely unaccepting of your presence, but maybe he wasn’t even listening during the meeting.

“Hi, Elliot.”

After several heartbeats passed and you were bordering into the territory of awkward, he lowered his left earbud and said, “Hi.”

Nothing. He wasn’t going to say anything else.

Alright, the conversation would have to be carried entirely by you.

“Uh, so … the penetration tests?”

Elliot looked at you like he had never seen you before—and maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he didn’t even know your name. You had never worked on a project together before, but you had talked during meetings. You passed each other in the elevator, around the office—an office of only about 25 people.

Again, nothing.

“Listen—do you, like, even know who I am?”

Elliot blinked, his large grey eyes disappearing for a moment, and in that moment, you felt a sense of relief. Making eye contact with Elliot was like being scanned by the TSA.

“Y/N,” Elliot answered, his voice low and flat. “You—”

And then he cut himself off, his mouth snapping shut as his eyes scanned your face before settling on the edge of his desk.

“Okaaay,” you said slowly. “First name basis, established. Were you paying attention during the meeting? I mean, I zone out sometimes, too, because Gary’s an asshole, but he assigned us to—”

“Run penetration tests on Friday’s patches,” Elliot said in a mumbled rush.

“Right. Yes. So, I guess you’re the master of penetration—oh my god,” you said as a blush of mortification crept up your neck.

As soon as the words, “master of penetration,” left your mouth, Elliot looked up and his eyes had doubled in size while his lips once again parted. He pulled his lower lip in, biting at it before he swallowed, watching you with what you could have sworn was amusement.

Amusement … or pity.

“I meant that everyone knows you are the best white hat here,” you said slowly so as not to put your gigantic foot back in your idiotic mouth. “It would be foolish for me to look for the vulnerabilities when you are the better hacker.”

“Okay,” came Elliot’s monotone answer.

Okay?!? your mind was screaming. Not a giggle, not a ha-ha-ha, Y/N, I understood what you meant, no big, break the ice, let’s be friends.

Nope.

Just … Okay.

It was clear that Elliot was going to do absolutely nothing to quell your anxiety, so fuck the attempts at small-talk.

With a determined raise of your chin, you sat down next to Elliot and opened your laptop. You could feel him shift a little away from you, and you tried not to take offense. There was already enough space to fit two people between you, but if he wanted more, okie-fucking-dokie.

“Go ahead and remotely access my laptop, I’ll split screen so I can watch you code while I document the data. Just tell me when you find a flaw so I’m sure not to miss anything.”

Before you had even finished speaking, your screen was mirroring Elliot’s. You quickly split the screen and got a doc ready to record the data.

You looked over at Elliot who had his fingers poised over the keyboard; he was peripherally watching you, so as soon as he saw you glance at him, he started working.

Time passed slowly, awkwardly as you sat side-by-side without saying a word. At first, there really was no need to talk, you figured, but normally, most people needed a break from their screen to at least stretch and blink.

Apparently, Elliot was more robot than man.

“Hey!” you said, making Elliot jump, his keystrokes faltering.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” you said, embarrassed again.

Elliot shrugged his shoulders and went back to typing, but you weren’t done.

“Well, wait a minute,” you said, his keystrokes faltering again.

“You found and fixed a flaw without telling me—that was the first one, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the point of me documenting is that we, ya know, talk about it.”

“Why?”

You turned your body toward him and blinked a few times.

“Because … we have to put this in layman’s terms for the analyst? Didn’t you ever wonder what the next step was after the penetration and documentation?”

“No,” Elliot said, finally turning a quick glance in your direction.

“Give me a second,” you said, quickly typing in your document.

Elliot stayed perfectly still, his fingers hovering over his keyboard.

“Alright—read over this and make sure it’s correct.”

Elliot glanced at you again before scooting in his chair about an inch closer in your direction. You suppressed a laugh and turned your laptop toward him so he could more easily see.

Then, Elliot chuckled. The most ridiculous excuse for a laugh huffing out of his mouth for a nanosecond before he snapped it shut again.

“What?”

“You misspelled ‘penetration.’”

You furrowed your brows and slid your laptop closer and a small laugh bubbled up from your throat.

“Good god,” you said through your giggle. “I blame you for that.”

Elliot shrugged his shoulders, but you caught the faintest hint of an upturn of his lips. It couldn’t be called a smile, much like his laugh couldn’t be called a laugh, but it was something human.

You resumed your work, but this time Elliot did pause when he found a flaw. Communication became easier and you found that the workday was starting to fly by.

“Hey! Did you see that?” you interrupted, but this time you didn’t startle him.

“See what?”

You reversed the direction of the code and watched as the screen recreated the last few lines Elliot had run.

“There!”

“Shit … I mean. Shoot,” Elliot said, flustered. “I missed it.”

You chuckled, “See? I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”

Elliot stopped and turned his chair toward you, his intense gaze locking your eyes onto his.

“I don’t think you’re dumb.”

You rolled your eyes and said through a shy smile, “Of course you do. You’re Elliot Alderson. God of hacking.”

Elliot tilted his head, almost like a dog when it was listening to its owner.

“God of hacking?”

You turned your chair to face him, your expression serious.

“You’re the most intimidating person in this office, Elliot.”

“That’s a nice way to say people don’t like me.”

“People just don’t know you. You’re . . . ” you trailed off, unsure if this was a conversation Elliot wanted to have, but he was still looking at you, eyes focused and head slightly tilted.

“You don’t say good-morning … or good-night. You don’t speak unless spoken to. It’s like,” you paused for a moment to think, “it’s like you run a different daily program than everyone else.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes falling and his hands smoothing over his thighs, rubbing back and forth in a repetitive, nervous motion.

You reached out to comfort him and just with the tip of your finger on the top of his hand, you pressed for no longer than a second.

Elliot looked up at you.

“Try it sometime. Say good-morning. I’ll even let you practice on me,” you said with a sweet smile.

And, to this day, you’ll never forget that Elliot smiled back. And when he smiled, you felt your heart flutter. He wasn’t just a good-looking guy—he was beautiful.

“Ready to run some more tests?” you asked, feeling shy all over again but for an entirely different reason.

“I am the god of penetration,” Elliot deadpanned, his lips quirking into a grin as you groaned, but suddenly turning to correct him.

“I said master of penetration.”

“I know,” said Elliot, his voice containing the smallest hint of coquettish laughter.

Your mouth popped open in surprise before you shut it, shaking your head and grinning to yourself.  

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #mr robot fanfiction #elliot alderson fanfiction

[sugar-petals]

Your First Time With Yoongi

warnings ⚠️ femdom!reader, bondage, slapping, masturbation, name-calling, cunnilingus, wow yoongi gets NASTY 

word count: 2.6k | hc

↳ ♡ NOTE › for anon who also inspired the ‘first kiss with yoongi’ post. look what you’ve done. writing this made me lose my cool. let’s dive right into it.

you’ll probably be fooling around watching miscellaneous videos from your feed 

and sorting through some clothes for the upcoming friday dinner

at the cozy italian restaurant next door

when you see yoongi come home looking, maybe not concerned, but more lost in thought

it takes a day or more until you ask him about it

brooding yoongi always means he’s weighing the big decisions

that you already know

but how it could possibly be something sexual you didn’t expect at first

because the only thing he says is that your second monthiversary is coming up this sunday

you reply yoongi that’s such a funny term

he says yeah it just made him think

it takes another day until you realize that he’s been unobtrusive letting you read between the lines how you see fit

and make that decision vice versa

it is about time to bring the relationship to a next level

yoongi sees the way you look at him

the last few weeks were proof enough he was worth giving it a go. you both knew what you were in for

as of now, you did make out a little at hoseok’s last halloween party (yoongi was in such a cute ghost costume). and kissed a whole lot during your vacation in london all lovey-dovey. but you didn’t have a chat 

so you nudge him at breakfast. what about friday?

after going out, you’ll have a whole evening to talk things over at home. no stress no pressure

agreed says your boyfriend

friday comes, you get a nice spot at giorgio’s rooftop terrace restaurant

literally it’s perfect to set the tone, the night sky is clear

after splitting the bill on antipasti for you and chili pepper pizza for yoongi the mood is right for some intimate talk and there’s no wine needed

but not in front of giorgio’s other guests alright

you return home flirting

to sit in your tiny courtyard garden with the fairy lights on

as long as no mosquitoes show up you have a long and frank conversation with a lot of surprising turns...

monthiversary sex on sunday it is

three cheers on that!

yoongi is giddy all saturday long and takes ten minutes more in the bathroom than usual, and five more in the shower

as if he isn’t dapper and groomed already

sunday afternoon, you do feel your hands getting a little sweaty yourself

the time has come

this will be exciting

you both prepare the living room for the evening, equip the center table with everything needed, eat some light snacks and drink plenty of water beforehand

the sun sets boom a leonardo dicaprio dvd goes right into the player

you’re both comfy on the sofa, intertwined, it’s fucking cute

you feed yoongi some more pretzel sticks

he makes you laugh

and nuzzles into the nape of your neck cuz cat behavior

the atmosphere slowly changes when the movie does

with leo getting all frisky and sweaty on screen, yoongi’s hands also begin to fumble at your hips, your skirt

and eventually

with you just murmuring just enough hot ideas in his ears

slip down to spend their time caressing between your legs

yep yep

the party is getting started

his hands are only shaky until they find the right spot. 

a pianist is merely on edge until he hits his favorite key indeed. and yoongi is that pianist. 

you can tell by his movements how he considers you music. now let that sink in

you’re his favorite tune 

RIP panties. those huge bony fingers know how to soak them 

phew

they have endurance, too

you already know that this will be a passionate night

leo goes through twenty character arcs on screen while yoongi is still flicking those tips

really. getting. into it. stimulating you with one, two, three fingers at once, curling, rubbing, stroking, dipping

miss clit says thank you

no finger cramps in sight with mister ‘miraculous’ min yoongi

meanwhile, poor leo falls victim to the pause button

you repeat the safeword to each other

‘two’

(because second monthiversary ok)

and here we go

flustered yoongi sits up, you pulling that FG shirt off, him then leaning against the backrest of the couch with legs splayed laxly

you climbing on top face to face

hot hot hot

yoongi wants restraints, he said. restraints he gets. a dozen feet of loose hemp rope are waiting on the table already.

you bind his hands before the chest, mainly knotting the rope around the wrists with an extra simple tie that keeps it foolproof. 

you do have safety shears on the table also

it took some time to remember the knot but it was some interesting stuff to learn

and... we’re talking yoongi’s sexy hands

what won’t you do just to see them tied fuck yes 

a kiss follows

long, deep, and increasingly lewd

only interrupted by you taking off your top and panties. the skirt stays on although it’s getting a little shoved up

yoongi remains seated as he is, starstruck as hell cuz your body has him fucked up

in the meantime you turn around to press your ass right against yoongi’s crotch

with a some more audacity right there

not taking any chances beyond this point

the poor guy

steady ruts and gyrating are sure to fry his brain with you taking all the time in the world to rub your core all over his growing boner

the skirt only provides more friction to the whole game

“you’re so cruel, please, oh my god”

someone’s worried he blows his load way too early

well oops

“take it. lil’ sucker”

you gaze back over your shoulder. sweet, suffering yoongi has his eyes closed and bites right down on his lip. 

he looks more concentrated than when he produces something in the studio i’m telling you

with your every push and rub, the tent in his blue shorts gets more upright, the fabric even more tense

and his voice whinier

and your pussy much wetter 

that’ll be quite a bit of laundry tomorrow

with every new grind you realize

better have mercy and slip a condom on before he does cum in his pants 

regardless you decide that your new favorite hobby is to tease the living hell out of him

by just how stiff he really is you can tell there are in fact two people enjoying that

holy shit when you get his pants off there’s a sight to behold

honey boy loves the cruel girls

it’s no secret yoongi is a fan of all things technology but damn he really is a master with the electric razor those are some pube gardening skills on fire

and he smells so good

and that juicy dick

is just one of a kind

UGH

the lube that’s been waiting on the couch table... will have to keep waiting forever 

hallelujah you’re dripping

“that’s... not going to be a long ride, yoongi”

“i, i know”

(just how much of a han solo is he!)

“should we wait for a minute?”

“probably better”

the boy gets the best of you it seems 

oh, sweet horniness.

a two minute TLC break gets the racing pulse down and the suspense up

admittedly just cuddly stuff with yoongi doesn’t make it any better

he. really. smells. so. good.

sandalwood, jasmine, something herbal, whatever it is, that mix makes your mind implode

“yoongi. i want you.” 

so bad.

just seeing him with his big dark teddy eyes and bound hands is kind of a fucking lot to take in okay

not to mention his voice just getting that extra deep edge when he tells you he wants you too

FUCK

the two minutes are so hard to bear, you just want to get going and ride him and hear all those slutty moans

and corrupt his every inch

as per friday evening you know yoongi doesn’t plan to fall short on the vocal department whatsoever and who can blame him. his raspy baritone is a surefire way to make your thighs tremble

and by virtue of profession, rappers aren’t known for staying silent when it comes to issues they’re passionate about aren’t they

rolling down the rubber you grabbed from the table is challenging enough because good heavens you’re touching him this way for the first time it’s just hard to believe and hard to the touch

his breath accelerates big time

you’re careful but also firm enough to ground him 

“ok, shall we?”

yoongi’s desperate hum in reply comes with two quick nods

slow, slow, slow, take it slow you say to yourself

but your wetness doesn’t lie. 

yoongi’s piano hands were like an open sesame to your walls

they went pop 

let’s get down to business bring that cock

you crave that filling BAD

when you align and slip him in with one not so steady hand cuz jesus christ you’re completely high-strung

those teddy eyes are on you like big brother 

because yoongi monitors hard for any discomfort you might have

he probably realizes that he’s not a desert-dry 9:50 PM tampon on the fifth period day when the backsides of your thighs cushion down on his loins

WHEW, THAT SLIP

better than any conditioner out there 

he’s in

it stuffs you so well, you can’t help but moan out

yoongi’s hypervigilance still hasn’t entirely faded though

“is that okay, does it hurt? is it—”

“shush, bun. watch.” testing, you give yoongi a good first bounce, far up and down, that baywatch slow motion... mother of god, your labia have a sweet time stretching around him. “it’s very okay.”

“a-alright,” he says

oh god yeah

another bounce on that. it’s already an addictive feeling

that’s what yoongi meant by ‘seesaw’

you rest your hands on his shoulders — and they’re made for that, i mean they’re just that broad — and really feel into how he glides in so nicely

with a slick and noisy plunge

gotta make sure to really savor all of those facial expressions from him ‘cause they’re pretty damn intense you have to give him that. never did you even fathom how his eyebrows could just escalate like this

yoonaerys targaryen!

that cock’s too good

so sleek. and comfortable 

advantages of having a perky lil dick 

he fills out your walls so perfectly

this is getting so heated, watching his body become so twitchy, his tied hands

with all those red blotches at his neck. 

it doesn’t take many more movements, no matter how playful the edge

that you have to pull off and enter phase 2 of TLC breaks with yoongi’s dick resting against his stomach all sensitive

this time you french kiss 

that’s how you know yoongi is not just a sucker. he’s a sucker

obsessed with nibbling at your lips and guzzling your saliva like wtf that’s not a break yoongi that’s making your girlfriend cum like new year’s eve fireworks

are all daegu boys freaky like that what is in the groundwater there?

you have to stop his hungry mouth and take a long damn breath

why is yoongi such a sex bomb

though what’s not to love about it

seriously you can’t take it much longer and he sees that 

“you wanna use your fingers, babe?”

“if you allow me,” he licks his lips, which means adding fuel to the fire, he can’t help it.

“say please.”

“please.”

you start to fiddle with the rope knots

yoonaerys targaryen soon has free hands

rope marks suit him so well, that shit just turns you on even more

time to switch it up then the final is around the corner

changing spots on the sofa, you recline, legs apart

yoongi slowly rubs you off with his flat palm to keep the pressure light

and not to overstrain his wrists too soon

then comes the infamous naughty tongue lowering down to your pelvis... nipping, swift and staccato. you have rightfully dreaded this moment because geez he hooks you on it 

next comes

the tip of his cock. i know right, good grief. guided by keen hands, rubbed against your clit, patting it, poking it, glazing it until it’s all coated all wet and pulsing like mad, what the fuck yoongi 

he makes you completely swollen

and repeat

it’s a triple t(h)reat technique adapted straight from the realms of fiery hell

palm, tongue, cock rubbing against you. palm, tongue, cock. palm, tongue, cock.

YOONGI HAS YOU SCREAMING AND WINDING

that demonic trick is guaranteed not to go on for very long 

point of no return says hiya, i’m here to mess you up girl

next turn his curling tongue comes to visit and dips between your labia

you can’t hold back anymore

and blow up in his face

whatever control there has been in your legs has now shut down entirely

yoongi has to deal with the full dose of slowly oozing jizz cuz boy he just buries his face even deeper once he sees the contractions starting

at this point he has solidified his sucker reputation

mister miraculous min just keeps eating and slurping while you cum your soul out. the pleasure is like a current taking over

making you curse

until you’re running of breath

with ‘point of no return’ handing the baton to ‘dizzy overstimulation’ you pull yoongi’s head out from between your thighs by the hair

yoongi kneels before you ruined

man... his face is dripping 

he even got cum in his lashes

“shit, yoongi!”

“please. punish, i want, i, please”

seldom that yoongi’s rapper mind says sorry i’m out like that

looking back it makes sense. who orders a flaming chili pepper pizza for date night but a grade a masochist 

cue friday evening protocol

you fumble off the very slippery condom and grip his cock by the base. hard.

with your other hand just in reach of his face

in comes a ringing slap to his right cheek

“a—ah, ah! more!”

slut yoongi is back in town and his cock really has to stay strong

because holy hell you jerk him off fast

getting greedy and erratic

yoongi cries out his orgasm with a whole white milky mess landing on his stomach, his thighs, your hand, your skirt, who knows he might have shot a constellation into the sky if it wasn’t for the ceiling

with the last drops gushing out, a giant fatigue pulls the plug on him

oh man

his hair goes in all directions. his face is slapped red, his wrists are marked, he came all over himself.

100% sex wreck 

you can barely keep yourself steady either

but you can at least reach for the soon-to-be-dirty-laundry towel on the table 

and clean up your salivating puffy teddy 

only to pull him close to you

two fucks covered in sweat all slack on the sofa, worn out

but happy

yoongi keeps on babbling and breathing hard 

seeking out closeness to your belly

you let him lie down his head on there

time to pull a blanket over the two of you right there once everything cools down

yoongi gazes up at you a bit cheeky even if he’s super tired

“kinda know what you’re thinking”

“that’s what a monthiversary has to be like”

“nothing to add”

“except: repeat tomorrow”

wrapping up the weekend all sloppy is a good luck charm for monday

“my bad. of course”

“you’re just amazing, you know that.”

“i was gonna say that to you”

safe to say that guy has your heart

“so... same time, same place, different movie?”

“sure babe i’m in”

while you both doze off, intertwined just as before  

you can’t help but think

man that was life-changing

#bts smut #bts headcanons #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts #yoongi headcanons #yoongi first time #long post

[xlady-saya]

there’s always more to learn [fic]

Pairings: andrew/neil, aaron/katelyn

Tags: wholesome twinyards, fluff, more aaron suffering, references to canon violence/abuse

read on ao3! 

Aaron's leg bounces impatiently as the clock in Bee's office ticks agonizingly slow. There's only five minutes left in today's session, and Aaron is more than ready to bolt out of there.

Katelyn is waiting. The weekend is waiting.

He's glad they rescheduled this week's session to Friday, but it doesn't make the waiting easier. If anything, time is seeping like molasses.

To his left, Andrew is stirring his fifth mug of cocoa with a spoon, even though there's no reason to mix it. Every few seconds, out of time with the ticking clock, the spoon hits the side of the cup and clangs into the quiet of the room.

Aaron is almost positive Andrew does this on purpose just to annoy him. Every. Time.

Aaron slides a glare towards his twin, with less heat than usual, while Andrew stares innocently ahead.

Aaron rolls his eyes; Andrew can act as unaffected as he wants, he's probably just as impatient. Aaron sees it in the subtle fidgeting, the way Andrew just can't quite seem to get comfortable in the cozy armchair.

What an ass, Aaron thinks, but there's an edge of fondness to it. Today's session had actually been...pleasant. He feels smooth, cleansed, instead of just raw.

This was becoming a more common occurrence, much to Aaron's shock. Sure, they would still discuss Tilda, or the trial, or the years spent apart, unaware of each other’s existence. Those conversations never got easy, but they got better. When they first started going to these joint therapy sessions, Aaron would storm out more often than not. The days he stayed meant tense, murderous silence, or cutting words which tore open new issues neither one of them even knew about.

The silence which settles over them this time is different. It's satisfied, not full of tension waiting to explode because of one of Aaron's careless remarks or Andrew's bluntness.

It's been like this for a while now. Aaron talks, Andrew responds, Bee mediates. They take small steps forward, with the occasional leap, but more often than not they get mutual understanding out of each other.

It's still a battle some days, but the fact Andrew is actually putting in an effort is enough to make Aaron put in his own.

Ever since he'd grown to accept Andrew's feelings for Neil as equivalent to his own for Katelyn, things had been moving even faster in the right direction.

It's why today is even possible, when months ago it would've been a terrible idea.

Aaron's stomach flips at the reminder of Katelyn, waiting for him outside, and he probably looks like he has to take a giant shit with how he has to force down his giddy smile.

Andrew shifts in his seat again, staring at the clock.

Of course, Bee misses none of it. She's usually more than happy to engage in small talk to wind down the last five minutes of their sessions, but today she'd let them sit in the comfortable silence, simply at peace with one another. Now though, with three minutes on the clock, she chooses to comment.

Goddamn shrinks...

"Well, you two seem excited," she says, voice warm without being prying. They don't have to respond, there's no pressure there, and Aaron decides eh, why not?

Andrew grunts something which Aaron takes as his attempt at denial, because after all, Andrew doesn't feel excitement. Or, that's what he used to say. It's becoming a less frequent statement, one Bee no doubt finds joy in. There's hardly any real fight in Andrew's unimpressed stare, and he doesn't seem to have any desire to elaborate. Bee must sense it too, Andrew's implied agreement to her statement, and she beams at his progress.

Aaron shares a look with his twin, who just shrugs, like he can't be bothered with explaining.

'You do it,' the looks says. Aaron still isn't used to how normal this feels, making plans with his brother, talking about them, spending time together that isn't part of some deal or debt.

"Katelyn and I have a mini golf date after this," he tells Bee, letting his face relax into a small smile. He can't help it when Katelyn is involved, and he wonders if the affection will ever wear off. He hopes not. "She invited Neil and Andrew."

'O-M-G, a double date!' Nicky had proclaimed obnoxiously, tears welling in his eyes. 'I'm so proud of you guys!'

Idiot.

But, he wasn't wrong. Aaron hadn't expected Andrew to say yes, but before he knew it they bought the tickets and made plans to drive to the mini-golf course after their session. It's new territory, with a lot of room for error, but Aaron lets himself be hopeful for once.

Either way, he gets to spend the night with Katelyn and hold her close while she tries to line up the ball.

Aaron sighs dreamily; it's a date night, so Katelyn will probably wear a skirt. He can't wait.

Beside him, Andrew scoffs.

"That's lovely!" Bee says, her face lighting up and she pulls her hands together. "I think it's great you two are spending more time together."

'More time.' More than the study sessions and video game nights. Voluntary time, and it's actually...not awful.

Aaron looks over to his twin and decides to say fuck it once again. This is what therapy is for right? Trying to be honest?

"Me too," he mutters, reluctant but no less truthful. Andrew's eyes slide over to him and they share a long look. Andrew's blank mask gives nothing away, but there's something swimming in the void beneath, an intensity, an acquiescence. Andrew tilts his head forward, a ghost of a nod, and Aaron's chest tightens up.

A beat passes and Andrew finally takes a sip of cocoa before he speaks, tone giving nothing away. "I just want to prove Neil isn't good at every sport."

Aaron snorts, he'd like to see that too. So far, the Foxes had been unable to find a physical activity Neil didn't pick up fast.

It's infuriating.

Satisfied with sharing like this for the remaining few minutes, Aaron sighs again. "Katelyn is cute when she focuses too hard on the game," he tells Bee, already picturing Katelyn's flushed face when her ball barely misses the hole-in-one.

Bee's smile turns a little smug. "It seems they're both competitive then?"

"I guess," Aaron says with a shrug, not really thinking about it. Katelyn is a hard worker, she hates to lose. It's sexy and adorable, and whoever wins usually gets a reward when they get home...

Aaron fully intends to cash in.

Andrew scoffs, like it doesn't even begin to cover Neil. It really doesn't. The little asshole is probably already taking the fucking game too seriously, and it's mini-golf. Aaron doesn't get how he and Katelyn get along so well, Neil's intensity is on another level.

It pisses Aaron off.

Bee's laugh is delicate, a chirp. "I must say, when you told me the two of them were becoming fast friends all those months ago, I wasn't surprised," she says. "Though I suppose you two must've already had a laugh about it."

The assumption that Andrew has ever 'had a laugh' while sober isn't worth pointing out, he's sure Bee knows anyways.

Andrew squints at her at the same time Aaron does, and something close to confusion settles on his usually neutral features. They share a look, and it suddenly feels like they're treading on thin ice.

Aaron hopes he's just paranoid, like he doesn't hear a bomb countdown in his head.

"What do you mean?" Aaron asks, cautiously. When Neil and Katelyn began to hang out, neither he nor Andrew really tried to stop it. It wasn't their call, but back then they'd been less than happy about it. Aaron had been shocked; after all, Andrew had threatened Katelyn while Neil just watched. Somehow, the event was less scary in Katelyn’s mind now, and it bloomed into some begrudging respect for Neil which had no issue spiraling into a weird friendship. Now, it's just a fact of life.

Aaron has no doubt Neil would throw Katelyn to the dogs for Andrew or the Foxes, but he treats Katelyn well and never lies to her, something she seems to value immensely from him.

Aaron doesn't get it, but Katelyn likes Neil and Neil doesn’t seem opposed to her either. Whatever.

He and Andrew don't mention it, never had a sit down about it. They certainly never had a laugh about it. Why would they?

"Well, the two of them are so alike," Bee goes on, oblivious to the tension leaking into the space. Her smile is pleasant, teasing. "It just goes to show how you and Andrew have similar tastes despite being so different."

The world freezes on its axis.

Andrew inhales a little too loudly the same time Aaron chokes on his spit. "W-What?"

The question levitates in the air, a second away from freefall.

Deceptively calm, Andrew puts his mug down with a harsh thud on the coffee table. Their time is up, but neither of them move.

Aaron would feel pride at seeing Bee so dumbstruck, if his brain wasn't liquifying in his head.

"Oh," Bee breathes, looking between the two of them slowly. She purses her lips. "You didn't know."

It's the match which lights the fire in Aaron's blood. He shoots forward, hands clenched in the couch cushions.

"That bastard is nothing like Katelyn!" Aaron spits, and Bee's smile is gone. How could she even think that?

In an instant, Aaron pictures a side by side of Katelyn and Neil. His cute, put together girlfriend who always smiles and gets along with everyone.

Then there's fucking Neil, and his all hoodie wardrobe with resting bitch face and a short fuse.

And okay, perhaps he should've phrased that better. He has no issues with his twin's relationship anymore, but he isn't exactly ready to entertain the idea that...oh god no, it's impossible.

Dobson's really off her rocker with this one.

Their feelings are the same, not their significant others.

"Aaron, that language is insulting," she reprimands, gesturing to his brother. "Neil is very important to Andrew--"

"I'll allow it," Andrew interrupts with a hand raised, shocking them all. Aaron realizes too late what the concession means though. It's classic Andrew philosophy: equal exchange. He wheels on Aaron quickly, the motion smooth and deliberate. "Sorority girl isn't exactly defying any stereotypes. Even if I was inclined to women, I doubt she'd do it for me."

Translation: 'My bastard is nothing like Katelyn, thank fuck for that.'

"Fuck you Andrew," Aaron bites back. It's a weird feeling, arguing without being enraged. There's no threat of violence here, and Aaron laughs at the ridiculousness of it. "Josten could offer to put me through med school and I still wouldn't screw him."

Andrew leans back, eyes scanning Aaron up and down. "Why would Neil want anything to do with a face like yours?"

"I look just like you."

"Mm," Andrew hums, unconvinced.

Bee looks at her watch, as if considering how far she wants to let this go given the time. "Perhaps it's best we unpack this another time. Aaron, I do want you to think about why it is you feel so insulted. I thought you liked having good things in common with Andrew?"

"I do, but not this!" Aaron says, fake retching. Andrew just stews in his chair.

He and Andrew having similar tastes in who they like is not something he can handle. It's way too close for comfort, and although he's accepted Neil's importance in his brother's life, that doesn't mean he's suddenly Aaron's favorite person.

Neil...Katelyn...alike...

Aaron's brain scrambles to piece it together.

Something akin to amusement crosses Bee's face before it disappears, and Aaron glares at her as murderously as he can manage.

"Look Bee, we're agreeing," Andrew says after a bit, tipping his mug of cocoa back as if it were a shot. "Are you proud?"

Well, at least they're on the same page about Bee's latest opinion: it's completely unfounded.

"Katelyn is sweet, and kind, and considerate," Aaron lists. "Your boy toy is abrasive, impulsive, and doesn't know how to keep his damn mouth shut!"

Andrew shrugs, unimpressed. "You say all that like they're bad things."

"To most people they are."

"Boring."

Before Aaron can launch into another tirade, Bee decides she's had enough. She laughs amicably, putting up her hands in surrender. The sound is lighthearted, and it's amazing how she can sense when the twins are having a legitimate fight versus just being asshole siblings; normal.

Aaron crosses his arms at the same time Andrew does.

"I only meant that they are alike in their feelings for you, and how they express them," Bee points out, as she has many times before. Aaron forces himself to listen to her try to backpedal. "They're both pillars of strength in your lives who you communicate well with. Right?"

Aaron and Andrew share another look; it's hard for them to admit still, but they passed that milestone weeks ago. They mumble their agreement under their breath.

Bee grins.

"But well, you're right I suppose," she sighs, patting down the ruffles of her skirt as she stands. "They have very different personalities. You two would know best."

Yeah, we would.

"Anyways, I've kept you too long as is. Go have fun on your date," Bee says, serene smile back in place. Something in the air shifts, and Aaron can't place the feeling.

Maybe it's impending doom.

Andrew still regards his therapist with suspicion as he stands, as if waiting for something else, something more.

But Bee only waves at them as they cross the room to the door. "See you both next week!"

--

When they walk out of Reddin, Neil is leaning against the hood of the Maserati with Katelyn. They're talking about something, probably that show Katelyn had gotten Neil into the past month (very hard to accomplish, Matt is still asking her how she did it). It's a normal sight, seeing them calmly discussing and laughing every now and again.

But now, instead of brushing it off, Aaron analyzes everything.

Ah, that's what he felt earlier. A seed being planted.

This is a fucking nightmare.

Aaron almost thinks he's the only one affected, until Andrew falters in step beside him. The blond pauses, hesitation clear in his movements. It's so unlike Andrew, it sends chills down Aaron's spine.

Aaron watches the light bounce through Katelyn's reddish brown hair, as if lighting it on fire with streaks of gold. She's gorgeous, with sun-kissed skin and blue eyes which never fail to make Aaron melt.

Usually, the sight makes all his problems disappear; Katelyn has a way of clearing his head, making him feel sane.

But then his eyes slide over to Neil, and oh god, he sees it. He can't unsee it. Neil's messy bangs catch the sunlight in almost the same way, bringing out more of its reddish color. Icy blue eyes stand out against tan skin, the result of hours spent on a track. Even with the scars, the resemblance is there.

They're basically the same height too, which is just another fuck you from the universe.

"It just goes to show how you and Andrew have similar tastes despite being so different."

"Andrew," he whispers to his brother, fearful, urgent.

Andrew's response is so quick it burns Aaron. "No," he states, end of conversation. Aaron gets the message loud and clear. If we don't talk about it we can pretend it's not true.

Aaron is 100% on board.

They walk towards the car, making their presence known, and Neil and Katelyn spot them at the same time. Their faces light up in almost the same way, though Neil's expression is more guarded, toned down for Andrew's sake. Is this always how it happens?

Aaron groans internally.

Yup, pretending is going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Andrew stills a little, and Neil's smile falters, raising an eyebrow in question. Andrew shakes his head, and it's enough. Neil relaxes in an instant.

The way they do that will never not be creepy.

It settles Aaron for the moment; Neil and Andrew are so different from him and Katelyn in everything they do. Still, he has a feeling this isn't the end of this.

For now though, he pushes the thought away as he reaches Katelyn, letting her kiss his cheek and wash his worries away. He really is excited to spend time with her, he'd be with her all the time if he could. He'll never understand why she looks at him like that, he doesn't deserve it. There's an adoration in her eyes every time he walks into a room, like she's the lucky one.

How wrong she is.

"Ready to lose?" She teases, hooking her pinky around his as they pile into the backseat. Aaron smirks at the challenge.

Oh, she's going to get it. "We'll see."

Aaron glances up to see what the hold up is, only to find Andrew whispering with Neil as his hand slowly trails down Neil's arm. The touch is gentle, and strangely intimate. Andrew's hand stops at Neil's wrist, pressing down. Neil laughs breathily, and Aaron catches the end of some Russian words.

He doesn't understand them, but he knows no one else is meant to hear.

He tears his gaze away to settle in the back with Katelyn, giving her all his attention, and doesn't bat an eye when Neil and Andrew slip into the front seats.

--

Neil is going to win, because of course he is.

It becomes painfully obvious five holes in, with Neil's natural movements and controlled tilts of the club.

Andrew's face gives away nothing the entire time, but the subtle shift of his eyes between his club and Neil's triumphant face says a lot.

The striker has already managed three holes in one, with Andrew close behind with two, but at this point his twin has to know it's a lost cause. Aaron doesn't miss the twitch of Andrew's jaw, and it's enough to soothe the blow of Neil being good at something.

Sorta.

Cutely, Katelyn blows her bangs out of her face, determined to catch up. She's been frozen with the ball lined up for a good two minutes now, and Aaron is in no mood to rush her. Her skirt flutters in the wind, her face flushed from the breeze. Aaron's jacket is short on her, matching well with her crop top. Sometimes Aaron wonders if she dresses off season just for the excuse to wear his clothes.

He hopes she never stops, and his eyes scan the smooth skin of her abdomen.

Aaron gives up around hole six. It's not just his dead last ranking, he's never been good at golf. It's mostly because winning isn't the real goal for the night.

Katelyn flicks her eyes to him as she smiles, full of apology for taking too long. Like Aaron minds.

He doubts Andrew and Neil notice either; he watches Andrew follow Neil to the next hole with disinterest, like he regrets the whole evening. Aaron can't see his face from where he stands, but he sees Neil's soften at something in his twin's expression.

Yeah, the rest of the world might as well be chopped liver. Aaron can relate.

He turns back to Katelyn, and recalls analyzing her for a different reason. When they first started playing, he'd tracked her and Neil's movements, watching them both tilt their heads left and right, appraising the perfect angles. Neil's hand would come up to brush his bangs at the same time Katelyn's did, and they'd bite down on their bottom lips in anticipation.

It was almost synchronized.

He and Andrew exchanged a glance, but said nothing.

Stupid. Coincidence. Don't think about it.

And since then, Aaron hasn’t. His mood has been too good.

With Andrew and Neil out of sight, Aaron allows himself a smile, and slides up behind Katelyn. His hands rest easily on her hips, and she doesn't even flinch at the contact, so used to Aaron's hands. So trusting.

Aaron swallows down the lump in his throat. Ever since the trial, he thought she'd be done with him. Katelyn, her future so promising and heart so pure...

What could she want with someone like him, hands stained with blood?

But she'd never hesitated to pull him back.

"Mm, hi," Katelyn giggles, leaning back into him as her hips sway. "Gonna help me line up?"

Aaron rolls his eyes fondly, placing his hands over the grip, swinging the club forward slightly. "I don't know how much more I can do. You're taking this a little too far for someone nearly in last."

She scoffs, affronted. "Says the one actually in last. Thank goodness Neil is as competitive as me."

Aaron tries not to stiffen. "Ugh, he's so annoying."

Katelyn laughs, reading Aaron's groan as his normal Neil-based contempt. He grips her waist tighter, forcing Bee's words away.

"I knew I'd never win," Aaron shrugs, ignoring his girlfriend's smirk as best he can. "We can be losers together."

"I don't feel like a loser with you," she whispers, turning her head to graze her lips along his ear. Aaron doesn't bother to repress his shiver.

"Sap."

"You like it."

And in that moment, Aaron can no longer resist. He steals Katelyn's lips in a passionate kiss, thankful there's no one else around thanks to the chilly weather. Katelyn whimpers in his mouth, her muscles turning to jelly, and she swings the club lightly before abandoning it completely.

The ball flies way off course, bouncing from the green and onto the sidewalk, but he doesn't care. Neither of them do, and he sighs when Katelyn leans all the way into him.

When Katelyn's legs are less jelly-like, she runs off to collect her ball while Aaron trudges ahead. He doesn't expect to see the shadows of Neil and Andrew still at the next hole; he and Katelyn were preoccupied for a while, but when he catches a glimpse of the scene, he understands.

It's over and done the moment Andrew hears his footsteps, moving away from Neil in one swift movement.

It's like nothing ever happened, Andrew's hands stuffed in his pockets; the only evidence is Neil hastily picking up his club.

But Aaron saw.

He didn't miss the closeness, Neil's back pressed to Andrew's chest as he leaned back for a kiss. He heard the end of Neil's sigh, his body melting to relax against Andrew.

Ah yes, he understands the sense of impending doom in Bee's office now. This is definitely going to be another one of those lessons isn't it?

He sighs; there's no avoiding it, only postponing. He walks up the Andrew calmly, not meeting his eye, even when Katelyn and Neil stand side by side again. It's so clear, like this.

Aaron glares into the void.

He wants to groan, to hate this.

But he can't.

--

The universe is an even bigger bitch than Neil.

Once the seed had been planted, it was like there was evidence everywhere. It's as if they'd been walking through a crime scene for months but just now noticed all the bloodshed.

They're sitting in the stadium lounge because of a rainstorm, waiting for the rain to subside just enough to get to their cars. Nicky complains loudly in the corner about missing his phone date with Erik, and Aaron blocks out the more inappropriate details.

He's in a good mood again; Katelyn came to see him practice, since cheer practice had been cancelled. She sits at the low coffee table in the lounge, scribbling away in her journal and shooting Aaron flirty glances.

It's great, and not even the Foxes' bickering can change that.

The lightning cuts through the walls again.

Okay, maybe they should leave.

Normally after a grueling practice, the Foxes would've braved the elements no matter how bad. They all just wanted to go home. Today is especially bad, lightning crackling in the sky.

Allison had been adamant they wait, but it seemed to only be getting worse.

"If even a single raindrop gets on me, it's your ass Day," she states, almost out of nowhere.

Kevin looks up from his dumb homework, wrinkles looking as old as his soul. Aaron is waiting for the day he snaps. It's one of the only bets he participates in. "Why me?"

Allison shrugs, like it's obvious. "I dunno, just feel like it."

"You do make it easy Kevin," Nicky interrupts, nodding sagely. Aaron actually laughs.

"Stop bullying Kevin, it's giving me a headache," Wymack yells from where he's polishing their trophy, probably just as unhappy at their presence. There's only so much he can tolerate in one day. He loves them, but they're all assholes.

"You're his father, you're biased," Nicky shoots back, flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder.

"You think I want to hear him whine?"

Kevin's hands go up in offense. The edges of a tribal tattoo peek out from where his sleeve falls, a work in progress that’s still healing and that they’re all pretty sure makes Wymack cry.  "I literally did nothing to deserve this."

Katelyn's laugh is sweet and good natured, cutting through their usual banter. "You guys are such sweet friends!"

Dan and Matt beam from where they're flopped over each other on the couch, more content to watch the rest of them argue. They're being oddly clingy, and Aaron doubts he's going to be seeing his room anytime soon.

"Aw, and you're an angel!" Nicky slides onto the floor next to Katelyn, hugging her tight. She's one of the only ones who can take the crushing weight of Nicky's hugs. "How did Aaron get so lucky?"

And well, he really must be in a good mood, because his reply comes smoothly and without hesitation. He doesn't care who's around. "I don't know," he breathes out with a smile, and Katelyn's eyes widen, icy blue shining in adoration.

The moment doesn't last long. A chorus of 'awws' fill the room, and Aaron's smile shifts into a frown almost comically. "Oh shut the fuck up."

Cigarette smoke fills his nostrils, and he looks to where his brother is dutifully smoking a cigarette indoors. He guesses Wymack is too tired to scold him, but for once Andrew's bored stare is welcome. At least he never has to worry about Andrew joining in on the Foxes' teasing.

Not in the traditional way anyways.

Andrew's eyes flick to the locker room entrance every now and again, waiting for Neil to emerge. He catalogs it for later, as ammo, before his attention flies back to Katelyn.

Katelyn bites her lip to keep down her grin, but then her eyes widen in gleeful realization. She pops up to join him against the wall, pulling out a few colorful bags from her backpack.

Instantly, Aaron knows what they are, can almost taste the salt. He's never been good with cravings, obviously.

He smiles at his own morbid joke, but it's overshadowed by actual appreciation. If Andrew has a thing for ice cream, then Aaron has a thing for chips. Specifically, this brand, with its alternating flavors.

"I almost forgot! I was at the store earlier and I saw these," Katelyn says as Aaron is already tearing open a bag. "It's the flavor you like, so I bought a big stash. It's under my bed at the dorm."

God, Aaron could marry her right then. He bites down on a chip, biting back a sigh. He's lucky he plays a sport, or he'd have some serious health issues because of these things.

"You're so thoughtful," he says, and he means it, pulling her in by the back of the neck to kiss her forehead. "I love you."

"They're chips not a kidney," Andrew deadpans from the window, still not looking at any of them. Matt snorts, but Aaron for a blissful moment that his brother isn't there.

"I think it's adorable," Renee throws into the silence, and Aaron is thankful.

He shoots her a nod as he loops his arm around Katelyn's waist, pulling her close. His next words are directed at one person and one person only. "I like that Katelyn knows me so well," he jabs, and feels Andrew pause mid-drag.

But that's the most he gets; he counts it as a win. As far as reactions go, this is a gold mine from Andrew. His twin fixes him with a bored stare. "Ah to be known..."

Aaron huffs, a self-satisfied grin stuck in place.

"I'm getting the hell out of here, I can't take it anymore," Matt urges as he jumps to his feet. Dan is quick to follow, the two hand and hand.

Aaron can't help but roll his eyes. "You just want the dorm to yourself for an extra fifteen minutes."

Matt waggles his eyebrows. "You got me there. Ready to run for it?"

Renee and Allison follow them dutifully, knowing he won't wait more than a few seconds for them to actually agree. With a scowl to freeze hell, Allison drapes her team jacket over her perfectly styled hair.

Honestly, why even make the effort.

The thunder booms again as they rush out the door, their silhouettes disappearing in the heavy rain. He's glad Andrew lets Katelyn in his car now, or else they'd be walking back to the dorms.

This is better too, because Katelyn has to sit in his lap. He's really glad she came.

Neil, as usual, walks in last, always holding them up despite his speedy reputation. His hair sticks to his forehead as he strolls out into the lounge, damp from a shower and muscles relaxed. "Where is everyone?"

Andrew takes too long to respond, if he was going to attempt it at all. His eyes scan Neil up and down before the interest is seemingly gone.

"Getting wet probably," Aaron remarks, trying not to be grossed out about what that look might mean for the two of them later. He's staying at Katelyn's.

"And not in the fun way," Katelyn jokes before her cheeks light up red, too relaxed in Aaron's presence. Adorable. "Oopsie."

Neil turns to her, blue eyes marred with confusion. "I don't get it."

Of course you don't.

It's not even the fact it's a sex joke, because Neil can pick up on their innuendos more often than not. The result of years on the run simply means a lot of slang goes over Neil's head.

Aaron scoffs.

Nicky sighs, unsurprised but just as disappointed. "Hey Neil, are you sure you and Andrew have sex?"

"Nicky." Andrew's voice is toneless, but cutting, and Katelyn backs herself and Aaron away in preparation for a potential strike. Her survival instincts have improved after time around the Foxes.

Nicky throws his hands up in surrender. At one point he might've been scared, nervous at Andrew's warning. Aaron knows things have been getting better between the two of them too though, and Nicky seems exasperated at most. "Alright, alright! Just saying."

Andrew's glare is gone in a blink, and he regards Neil's lost expression as he stubs out his cigarette. "I'll explain later."

Good enough for Neil, apparently. The striker walks over to Andrew as casually as possible while the rest of them collect their bags, but the energy in his step is there. Aaron might even call it giddiness.

Andrew raises a brow as Neil stops in front of him, amusement swimming beneath the surface. It's gone as soon as Neil shrugs off his jacket and pushes it into Andrew's arms. Andrew doesn't move to take it, letting it fall to the floor. Neil snorts, no doubt expecting it. "C'mon, I know you're cold."

His smirk is teasing as he stares at Andrew's exposed shoulders a little too long. Katelyn leans in to whisper in Aaron's ear. "Guess your brother has as little cold tolerance as you do."

"Whatever," he mutters, much to her amusement.

It's freezing okay? At least he's not wearing a muscle t-shirt like Andrew. Idiot.

Andrew and Neil have a stare down for another five seconds before Andrew scoops up the jacket in the most petulant display Aaron has ever seen.

"You know nothing," Andrew says, shoving his arms through the sleeves as he ignores Neil's bright grin. Before he can turn away towards the door, Neil's voice stops him again, yanking him back.

"Oh by the way," Neil says with the wave of a hand. He fishes into his bag to pull out a king size Milky Way, only slightly crushed from whatever crap he keeps in there.

He hands it to Andrew as if it's a roll of money, as payment for a deal. Maybe he knows candy is just that important to Andrew.

Andrew stares at it, no doubt having the same crisis Aaron is currently having.

It doesn't matter, doesn't mean anything. Lots of boyfriends and girlfriends buy each other things...it's normal.

He glances quickly between Neil and Katelyn.

They're not alike. They're not.

"I got it for you, you ate your last one right?" Neil asks, shrugging with the ghost of a smile. "I know you like the dark chocolate better but they were out."

"I didn't ask," Andrew states, still staring at the candy bar in his hand.

Neil smirks, walking past him and out into the rain without a care. He is mindful not to brush their shoulders though. "You didn't need to."

Andrew's grunt is left up to interpretation, and Aaron doesn't care to figure out what it means.

Katelyn happily runs after Neil, eager to get to the car. Andrew's shoulders relax as he pulls out his keys, stuffing the candy in the jacket pocket for later.

As much as Bee's words ring in Aaron's head, annoying and worrisome, Aaron can't help but take advantage.

Andrew deserves it.

He stops right as he's about to pass Andrew, watching Neil and Katelyn jump in a puddle on accident. As if sensing Aaron's shit-eating grin, Andrew turns, and the words breeze out of Aaron's mouth. "Ah, to be known--"

"Fuck you."

--

Aaron makes a list in his head, because he can't resist it. It only grows as he notices more things, which doesn't help his stress.

Neil and Katelyn. Katelyn and Neil.

They're both dense when it comes to flirting.

They're both thoughtful when it concerns the twins (but Neil is still an asshole in every other arena of life okay, that's not up for debate.)

They're both competitive.

Lightweights.

Focused.

Straightforward.

That doesn't begin to cover the physical things Aaron had noticed earlier, but he forces himself to stop there. He doesn't know how much more he can take. Is it really possible? Could his beautiful, thoughtful girlfriend be anything like that arrogant exy addict?

Aaron scratches his head furiously as he trudges up the stairs to his dorm; he doesn't have time to be worrying about this. He skipped his last class for extra review time, so he better take advantage of the team's absence. Even sharing a room with Matt doesn't guarantee him peace and quiet. The Foxes all end up congregating one way or another, but Aaron knows they've all got full schedules at this time.

It's perfect, but his hope dies when he rounds the hall and hears voices coming from an open door. It's Andrew's dorm.

That's odd, he thinks. It's not like Andrew or Neil to be home at this time, and Kevin and Nicky wouldn't be far behind them.

Aaron slows as he passes, and a flash of blond is all he sees for a moment. Aaron's feet stick to the floor as he jolts back.

Andrew sits on the couch in the dorm, staring at nothing. It wouldn't be so uncommon any other day, but something in his eyes makes Aaron's blood run cold.

Or maybe it's the absence of something, the absence of anything.

If he didn't know better, he'd think Andrew a corpse. But the tense set to his jaw and shoulders say otherwise. He's never seen someone seem wound so tight but so defeated all at once.

He's definitely not used to seeing it from his brother.

There's a pale, haunted quality to his face, like he's not really there, like he's somewhere else far, far away from all of this. Knowing where Andrew has been, what he's seen...

Aaron doesn't want to think about what Andrew's going through in that moment, but he has a few ideas. The echoes of a drugged cackle poison Aaron's thoughts and he bites the inside of his cheek hard.

Andrew's bad days...he hardly lets anyone see them, and Aaron's next thought is so selfish it twists him up inside.

For a second, he's glad Andrew hides this...these days of his where nothing's okay. Aaron wouldn't know the first thing about dealing with them, and offering any real help would be nothing more than an unattainable hope.

It chokes him; he hates himself for standing there, for seeing, for staring like Andrew is some caged animal waiting to strike. He knows he has to leave, he knows, but he doesn't know how to move.

He's not the one who makes the decision for him; like a ghost, Neil crosses the front of the doorway, obscuring Aaron's view of the whole scene. His scarred hand flies to the door, as if meaning to slam it shut, to keep Andrew protected, when Neil recognizes him.

However, there's a split second where he does not, and Aaron is treated to another rare sight. For a moment, that stupid session with Bee pops back into his mind. The part of his brain which isn't frozen by Neil's stare laughs at him; ah, finally, a difference.

Because see, there's no doubt about it. Katelyn and Neil are fiercely protective, and Aaron knows Katelyn would be there for him in his lowest moments. She's proved it; she was there after Drake's attack, after the first few brutal therapy sessions. Always listening, caring.

But here is where Aaron sees a critical gap between her and Neil, and he's reminded none too kindly that Neil was born in a world of blood and flesh.

Katelyn's humble suburbia was always out of his reach.

The look which crosses the striker's face is downright murderous, pure contempt dripping off his threatening grin. The guard dog is out in full force, but it's so much more than that. This smile...it's so sharp edged and without remorse, it can only come from years of training to be a force of pain and suffering.

The Butcher's Boy, one article had called him.

It's the kind of smile which makes a promise. It says no matter how cutting it may look, it's nothing compared to what the wearer's hands can do.

Had Aaron been anyone else, a stranger, a genuine threat...

He wonders what Neil would've done.

But then the look is gone, falling from Neil's expression as he realizes it's Aaron. The cool, assessing stare is back, and some of the tension fades. He still keeps the door partly closed, his body blocking Andrew from Aaron's vision.

Aaron just stares.

He and Neil get along better now, for sure, but there's always going to be suspicion between them both. Part of Aaron will always have the fear of Neil hurting Andrew, and Neil will always have the fear of Aaron doing the same.

After all, Aaron has misunderstood his brother before, hasn't he?

Vile words screamed in therapy replay in his head, and he swallows down the guilt.

He guesses for once, he can't blame Neil.

"Problem?" Neil eventually whispers, fixing Aaron with a look which dares him to say anything about Andrew.

The reflexive glare and biting retort fade before they can even manifest. Aaron looks down at his shoes, trying to find words to show Neil he gets it, that he understands.

He's not at that point yet though, and he knows it.

But one day, he hopes to be.

"No," he settles on instead."I don't think there is."

He wonders what it means when Neil's body relaxes, and Aaron's chest fills with warmth.

--

The next incident doesn't happen for a few days, lulling them both into a fall sense of security. Andrew is back to normal, if not walking a little faster in Neil's direction.

Aaron is too relieved to comment on it.

He sometimes wonders why the universe is out to get him specifically, but he reminds himself that he's somehow managed his way out of every bad situation one way or another.

He figures it's best not to question it, but the anguish is still real.

He's walking with Andrew to the track where cheer practice is held, since Neil and Katelyn told them to meet up there before meeting Nicky for dinner.

It's mandatory on Thursdays now, no matter how many times they try to skip. Nicky finds them.

Bringing Katelyn into things had been a dirty trick, and Aaron mostly blames Neil for proving to everyone it works. Now, Nicky isn't above using his girlfriend against him. On the flipside, Neil has no reason to refuse Nicky's invitation. And like that, Andrew's presence is ensured, at least for an hour.

Aaron wishes he was clever enough to sneak away undetected like his twin.

As he's about to voice his complaints, they reach the top of the hill overlooking the field, and Andrew halts right in front of him.

It's so abrupt, Aaron barely dodges walking right into his brother. It's a good thing too; Andrew (much to Aaron's jealousy) is built like a brick wall. Even without the threat of a bruised nose, touching Andrew from behind is never a good idea for anyone's health.

Aaron yelps, glaring at his twin as he stumbles to the side. "Andrew, what the fuck?"

Andrew doesn't respond, his stare fixed straight ahead and twitching more and more by the second.

Aaron turns his head, trying to see the source of the problem when the wind is knocked out of him. He spins back towards his brother not even a second later, eyes frantic.

"No," he pleads, he's not sure to who. His whisper is the definition of panic. "Andrew no--"

"Shut up," Andrew bites out, setting his jaw. "It doesn't mean anything."

How can you say that? "Seriously?!"

He points a finger towards the field, as if that explains everything. He knows it does.

Down on the green he watches Katelyn and Neil take turns with various cheerleading moves. The cartwheels and tumbling come easy to both of them, their bodies lithe and flexible, and fucking Josten just has to be a fast learner. The striker watches Katelyn intently as she demonstrates a handstand before falling back to a standing position. Neil manages to copy it perfectly, and Katelyn claps in elation next to him.

There's no way Aaron is awake. The worst thing is, Neil looks pretty comfortable, like they've done this before. How had he and Andrew missed all this?

Aaron almost falls to his knees in defeat, and momentarily thinks of paying up to Bee even though there's no actual bet in place. "Hey, if Josten becomes a cheerleader I'm going to break all of Dobson's figurines and then blind myself with the shards."

It gets Andrew's attention at the very least. He looks back over at Aaron, unimpressed. "Don't be so dramatic."

Yeah, I'm not the one who stopped in my tracks...

A beat of silence passes between them as they watch Neil and Katelyn bounce around, carefree and energetic. Something soft lodges itself inside Aaron's chest despite his annoyance, and he notices Andrew's shoulders release some of the pent up tension.

Aaron tries to guess what Andrew is thinking, nothing unusual there. It's an interesting speculation though. Even as just Neil's teammate, Aaron wonders what it means to Andrew to see someone with Neil's history look so content.

It's probably not something their kind is usually afforded; freedom, leisure, contentedness.

With the shared vulnerability sitting in the air between them, Aaron finds room for a step forward. Sighing, he stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. If Andrew is ready to talk about it, so is he. "Do you think...maybe Dobson had a poin--"

"No."

Aaron rolls his eyes. Ok, fine. He guesses it's not time yet after all.

They stand there until Neil and Katelyn finish, taking a water break and checking their phones. The moment passes by heavily, the beginnings of understanding stirring between them whether Andrew likes it or not.

Of course, Andrew can ruin any moment.

Neil starts his cool down stretches, and Andrew's eyes flit up his strong legs, lingering a bit too long.

Aaron sputters, face flushing in realization. "Are...are you seriously checking him out right now? With me right here?!"

Andrew rolls his eyes, finally stalking off towards the field. "Don't worry, I won't pop a boner like you did freshman year."

Something in Aaron dies, remembering all too vividly the first time he saw Katelyn practice. He shoves down the embarrassment, but the agony stays. "That was one time!"

--

They somehow end up at the same lunch table in the courtyard one afternoon. Aaron knows he keeps labeling these instances as rare and unplanned, but they're starting to become too frequent for him to ignore.

And it's surreal, not being so uptight around his brother, waiting for a fight to break out between them. It's more than he'd ever thought they'd have.

It's nice.

Or it would be, if vermin didn't exist.

Katelyn and Neil are exchanging exercise tips across the table, Katelyn flipping through her phone to show Neil some good stretches for certain cheer moves. Aaron isn't quite sure how they'll be useful in an exy game, but he's not going to stop Neil from burning off any of his annoyingly high energy. Beside Aaron, Andrew reads his newest novel, eyes appraising Neil every now and again.

It's then two guys from the football team walk by, regarding them both with a clear intent. Aaron's hackles are immediately raised; he's never seen these two before, but it's obvious Neil and Katelyn have from how quickly their smiles leave their faces.

Ah, classmates then.

"Trying to be a cheerleader now Josten?" The one whose jacket reads McGuire taunts. "Knew you had no shame."

Katelyn bristles immediately, never one for random hostility. How she gets along with the Foxes at all is a miracle. "Hey--"

Neil stops her protests with a hand to her wrist, and his unimpressed stare is only one indication of his connection to Andrew.

Of course, Neil's back-talking abilities are all his own.

"Is that really the best you can do?" He sighs, inconvenienced by this whole thing. The shift is amazing, his lazy grin and determined stare gone in favor of tiredness. This is obviously not the first time he's dealt with these douchebags, and Aaron is astounded Neil didn't put them in their place already.

Perhaps Wymack's anger management lectures are sticking a little.

"I'm sure you've seen the news articles," Neil continues when the two aren't quick enough to respond, the edges of his blade-like smile slipping now and again. "You think that's what's going to get to me, some jabs about cheerleading? I'm shaking."

Aaron will give it to him, he sure knows how to make someone feel lower than dirt. Neil doesn't bother to make eye contact at all, almost talking through the two lumbering jocks. They would beat Neil into the dirt easily based on size and upper body muscle alone, but no one ever gets away unscathed when Neil is involved.

Douche #2 bristles, face flushing red. "Listen you--"

"Are we done here?" Neil bites out, and Katelyn is smirking at his side. "More of my brain cells die the longer you're in my way.

Katelyn winces, performative. "Is that why I have a headache? It's contagious."

Hearing Katelyn say something not nice is enough to have Aaron's brain stalling, rendering him useless.

McGuire's anger is all for Neil as he growls. "You're going to regret that mouth of yours."

Ha-ha.

In the corner of his eye, Aaron sees Andrew's hand curl around his armbands, right where a knife should be. Threats to Neil aren't things he takes well, but they have an agreement.

Neil can fight his own battles, until he can't.

"All things I've heard before," the striker waves them off dismissively, but there's a new wave of heat in his eyes. "I don't give a fuck what you say about me, it's nothing I haven't heard, and just like you, it'll be forgotten in the blink of an eye."

It's the biggest of insults to people so full of themselves, and McGuire means to lunge when his friend clamps down on his shoulders.

Aaron thinks it's a rare demonstration of defeat, but he should know better.

"C'mon don't punish them too much man," Douche #2 says, fake pity swelling his words. At this point, Katelyn and Neil are back staring at their phones, Neil's awareness only given away by the hand poised to block a hit at a moment's notice. They're the picture of 'I don't care what you say about us,' until they're no longer the targets. "Their lives are hard enough, they're already dating the Minyards."

Neil's posture does a 180 in an instant, the same time Katelyn's untroubled expression wrinkles up in anger. Neil's full attention is on the two now, and they shrink back an inch. Neil's voice is a snarl. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Katelyn isn't far behind, fists clenched on the table. "Yeah, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Now, Aaron knows at this point he should step in. It's not Katelyn's or Neil's fight anymore. It's his name, Andrew's name, being thrown around in the dirt. He can handle himself, can give as much as he gets and then some. But the fury on Katelyn's face has him sitting like a stone in his seat, throat dried up like the brush Neil's glare could set fire to.

Beside him, his twin assesses the scene in his own way, with an expression Aaron cannot read. Goddammit Andrew.

McGuire laughs, like the answer is obvious. He must not have any real experience with Andrew or the rumors about him, because most people wouldn't dare provoke the sleeping lion in Andrew's chest. That, or they're both actually that stupid. "How can you stand these midgets? Do they make you feel good about yourselves because of their shitshow lives? Must've been hard to find someone more messed up than you, Josten."

"Dunno why you'd waste your time with a criminal Katelyn," Douche #2 throws in. "You guys have a thing for that?"

Something in Katelyn snaps, and she shoots up from her seat quickly enough to make Aaron flinch. Andrew regards her for once.

"Aaron is twice the man you'll ever be," she huffs, laughing in disbelief. "You're just jealous he's top of the class and on the Exy team, and Andrew is already being scouted by the pros! Neil--"

And of course, Neil doesn't like to hear anyone sing his praises. He cuts Katelyn's temper off with his own, hand still around her wrist. In the back of his mind, Aaron thinks to ask Katelyn how much she keeps up with Andrew's life, how she sees it as important despite how cruel he was to her, how uncompromising.

The feeling in Aaron's lungs is suffocating.

"They actually have futures, so keep their names out of your idiot mouths," Neil warns, the promise of pain hard to ignore. Andrew's eyes never leave Neil's face. "If Andrew doesn't kill you, I will. He's got nothing to prove, neither does Aaron. You're both pathetic compared to them, so shut up with your cheap blows."

"Totally! Leave our boyfriends alone!" Katelyn crosses her arms, her high ponytail swishing from the abruptness of it. She's huffing, not nearly as composed as Neil, but just as upset. Protective.

Neil laughs beside her, dry and over this conversation. He drags Katelyn back down easily, but never touching her more than he has to. "Don't be too mean to them Katelyn, they're obviously trying to overcompensate for something."

Both jocks flinch, but any kind of response dies on their lips.

"How sad," Katelyn throws in airily, bringing out the full extent of her sorority girl cattiness.

McGuire, red in the face from humiliation, tries to salvage what he can. "Why you--"

"Bye," Neil and Katelyn say at the same time, waving them off in clear dismissal. Their eyes are back to staring at their phones, point made. It's...impressive, but Aaron will never admit it.

He's glad he never got on Katelyn's bad side.

Kicked to the curb, the two idiots slink off with tails between their legs. It's as if someone presses play again on the scene, because the sounds of the courtyard and the muffled conversations of nearby tables fill Aaron's ears again.

He notices Andrew, tense, sit back on the bench. Aaron hadn't seen him move to get up, but he guesses Andrew is torn between chasing after those guys to threaten them on his own and simply staring at Neil like he's some kind of alien. Maybe he is. Andrew's expression is comical, like he's not sure whether to be angry with Neil about trying to protect him when he doesn't need it, or pull him into a kiss.

Aaron would rather not think about the last one, or the innocent spin he's putting on it. If his brother feels anything like he does, there's a lot more than kissing on his mind right now.

Neil looks over at Andrew, a secret passing between them as Neil smiles in another way, softer than Aaron is comfortable with.

He tears his gaze away.

"Anyways, I was thinking we could all go see that new movie this weekend," Katelyn's cheery voice returns, as if nothing happened. She's shoving her phone too close to Neil's face, almost making him cross-eyed.

Neil's confusion, for whatever reason, makes Aaron want to slap him. Maybe because a minute ago he looked ready to gut someone. "I can't, I never saw the first one. Allison told me it's a sequel."

Katelyn gasps, her hand slapping the table. "Oh my god Neil! You have to watch it," she insists, turning on Aaron so fast he yelps. "Aaron, tell him he has to watch it."

Aaron blinks, once at his girlfriend, then once at Neil. "Uh, you have to watch it?"

Neil squints at him, tilting his head at Katelyn even as the words are completely directed at him. "Why do I care what Aaron thinks?"

"Fuck off Josten."

Katelyn only giggles. She's never believed Aaron and Neil disliked each other, and over time, he's starting to think she's right.

Neil is still the worst though. He forces himself to believe it, but he can't ever forget the way Neil just defended him without question. Rude.

"I'll send you the link so you can watch it online, you'll love it I promise. Andrew can watch with you!"

Katelyn knows Neil too well for only knowing him a short time. Neil's face lights up at the suggestion, a silent question directed at Andrew in the next second.

Andrew just sighs, nodding once.

It must fucking make Josten's day, that's how relaxed he looks.

Damn you.

Katelyn giggles, checking her screen for the time. Her smile is replaced by panic. Instinctually, her hand flies out to grab Neil, her manicured hands digging into his jacket. "Oh shoot, we're gonna be late for class!"

She bumps her knee as she stands, shoving her books hastily (along with a half eaten donut) into her backpack. Neil is less in a hurry, but he doesn't seem to mind being dragged by the arm towards the math building. Nerd.

"Bye sweetie," Katelyn throws over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss. There's a blush on her face, no doubt because of the incident from before, and Aaron's answering grin says they're not done talking about it.

He plans to show his appreciation, thoroughly.

"Yeah uh...bye...I love you! A lot." Yes, very cool. He clears his throat, but if anything, his lack of smoothness makes Katelyn beam brighter.

"I love you too!"

"I'll be home soon," Neil says, more subdued but no less of a promise. For a blink, it's like only he and Andrew exist in the world.

"I don't care," Andrew states, but he never breaks eye contact, and even Aaron doesn't believe him. For so long, his brother cared about next to nothing. The difference is impossible not to notice.

Neil must feel the same way.

"Sure you don't," he grins, smug and hinting at things which make Aaron want to puke. Amusement crosses Andrew's face before it's gone, and Aaron rolls his eyes. "See you later."

And like that, they're gone.

The quiet between them is charged, but not volatile like they're used to. There's defeat laced in it, an elephant sitting in the room. It never left probably, not since that session with Dobson.

In his head, Aaron adds another thing to the list: quick tempers.

"Andrew..." He tries again, knowing he doesn't have to explain any more than that as they stare at the spots Katelyn and Neil sat.

The refusal doesn't come as quick this time, he notes with a chill. Ah, they're getting close then.

"No," Andrew sighs finally, but it sounds so much more like resignation this time around.

--

Andrew and Neil are sitting at the top row of the empty stadium when Neil can't hold back his curiosity anymore.

Andrew senses it immediately, and dammit, he thought he had at least a few more days of peace.

Neil turns to Andrew lazily, but his gaze is anything but. Andrew knows the look, would know it in death. It spells trouble and a million other things he can't stand but which make his insides flip anyways. "Are you ever going to tell me what has you and Aaron acting all weird lately?"

Andrew releases a breath, craving a cigarette. He regards Neil lazily, but he's not looking for anything specific on his junkie's face. Andrew knew Neil had noticed something was on his mind the day after that fateful session with Bee, but he's been giving Andrew time.

Always considerate, always waiting for Andrew to be comfortable enough to broach the subject.

Andrew hates him, hates how much he doesn't.

Neil waits patiently for Andrew to collect his thoughts, not even fidgeting from where their shoulders are pressed together. It's cold out, Andrew wishes they were in bed. Kevin owes him for letting Thea visit.

But, seeing Neil in Andrew's jacket isn't the worst thing he's ever seen.

Andrew taps his fingers against Neil's open palm, but there's no need to find an excuse. He doesn't lie to Neil. "Bee said you and Katelyn were alike during our last session."

He strips the issue down to the bare bones, knowing Neil can read between the lines. Andrew will never admit to being upset by something so dumb, so he lets Neil bring it up for him. It's the same way Andrew won't let Neil get away with acting okay when he's definitely not.

Neil tilts his head, mulling over the words.

"Hm," he hums eventually, and much to Andrew's annoyance, Neil looks contemplative rather than shocked. "That bothers you."

And there it is.

Andrew runs a hand through his hair, his only tell that he's frustrated.

Bothers him?

Nothing is supposed to bother him, but he remembers feeling Bee's words like a bucket of ice water just like Aaron had.

He hates it, because he can't stop thinking about it.

Neil's hand closes around his, a grounding force. Andrew pulls away; he needs to see Neil's face, but he keeps their hands together so Neil knows he didn't overstep. Neil looks so pleased Andrew wants to shove him off his seat.

"It's untrue," he settles on instead, bypassing any kind of confession. Again, it's the simplest, non bullshit answer.

Amusement fills Neil's entire being, but he's not so dumb at least, because he keeps his laugh down.

Neil bites down on his bottom lip, the one Andrew nipped raw this morning in between kisses. "Is it? I think Katelyn and I accomplish the same thing, maybe that's what Bee meant."

Bee said the same thing. For someone who hates therapists so much, Neil sure can sound like them sometimes.

Andrew raises a brow, urging Neil to elaborate. It's payback, in a way. Neil's huff is a small salve for Andrew's annoyance.

Neil has never been gifted with words outside of lies and insults; these moments, where he tries to explain his innermost thoughts and feelings are as entertaining as they are brutal. Andrew often cannot handle them, but like a fool, he never wants to stop listening. The fact Neil's eloquence disappears at times like this is the only thing which helps Andrew keep it together.

Neil squirms in his seat, staring at their hands. "Well, Aaron likes Katelyn because she makes him feel normal, you know?"

Andrew makes no such indication that he knows.

Neil powers on admirably. "And...you like me because..."

Neil pauses, waiting for Andrew to the deny the statement, to counter it with the usual 'I hate you' so Neil can move on.

But Andrew doesn't have the energy for that, hasn't for a while. Neil's eyes widen when he realizes Andrew isn't going to refute anything, and seeing him so slack-jawed puts Andrew's mind in a whirl.

Oh, what is he going to do about this? Is there anything he can do, at this point? Over a year with Neil, and part of him knew he was done for weeks before Baltimore. Perhaps even months.

"I like you because?" Andrew sighs, the words foreign and sickly. This feeling...is uncomfortable, but not in the way a stranger's hands on him would be. It's the kind of squeamishness that comes from experiencing pleasure, experiencing warmth, when before he'd had no exposure to it.

It's new, but he knows Bee would want him to embrace it when he can. Today is not a bad day, so he does. And like everything, the more he says it, the less upsetting it'll be. The less undeserving he'll feel.

Smiling, and not bothering to try and hide it, Neil continues. "You and Aaron have been through a lot. Aaron doesn't like to think about it, he likes to know he's okay and that he can still enjoy a life other people would. Girls, parties, school."

Oh yes, he knows. He used to resent his brother for all of it, each step away from him in direct violation of their deal. Now, he knows Neil is right.

"Katelyn is his reassurance, his reminder of all that."

Aaron's perfect, sheltered cheerleader. Yet, she'd somehow managed to understand his twin despite all the ugliness. Her face stopped being offensive a while ago.

Neil, as if sensing Andrew's train of thought, smirks briefly. Shut it.

But Andrew doesn't mean it.

"But what you...prefer is understanding," Neil says, noticeably preventing himself from saying 'want' instead. Andrew says he does not want, though Neil has never believed him. "You and I don't shy away from the ugly parts of life because we can't..."

'It's all over us.' It goes unsaid. Neil's gaze settles on Andrew's armbands, seeing the scars underneath from memory alone. In the same vein, Andrew reaches up to dig his thumb into Neil's shoulder, exactly where he remembers an old bullet wound to be. Neil's breath catches, a pleased shiver rocking through him.

Andrew really hates Kevin now.

"Reassurance versus understanding. Those are the things you and Aaron value, so...I dunno. It makes sense to me," Neil whispers, shrugging. He does that, when he's not sure of himself, if he's not sure Andrew will accept the answer.

Neil is a fool, and he'll surely be the death of Andrew. He should've thrown him out onto the streets day one, but given the chance now he knows he won't.

He digs his finger harder into the bullet hole, kneading the flesh there as his eyes trace the rest of Neil's body, seeing the slashes littered all over it.

Anger rises in his throat unwarranted, and his grip on Neil's shoulder tightens without forgiveness. Neil doesn't flinch away, like he knows Andrew would never hurt him, and it makes Andrew hate this even more.

Because people have hurt Neil.

Yet he can still look at Andrew like that, he can still do stupid cartwheels and annoy Kevin and shop with Allison on the weekends.

He overcame everything to become Neil Josten, and who else could possibly know a thing about that?

"It does not mean you're the same," he growls out, hand untangling from Neil's to hold his face in his hands. Andrew's thumb slides over the ruined skin under Neil's eyes, where his nerves no longer work. "She does not have these, she'll never..."

She'll never know. She's not like you, no one is like you.

No one else could do this to Andrew, and it's so dangerous, such a weakness.

Andrew trembles from the force it takes to not push Neil away from him.

Neil knows better than to touch back, not when Andrew is giving so much, and Andrew glares at him for that. He's always giving Neil too much, and he doesn't know how to stop, doesn't even think about stopping.

Slowly, Neil reaches forward to grab the sleeve of Andrew's coat, tugging once. "I know that, Andrew I know."

Andrew's trembles subside from Neil's voice alone, and cautiously, Neil skims his fingers along the fabric of Andrew's forearms. His scars. Andrew's grip relaxes.

It's a touch he's familiar with now, it's Neil proving the understanding is real.

Andrew sags into his seat when Neil speaks again, boring into pools of icy blue. Neil never backs down from the intensity of Andrew's stare. "But we both care about you two in the same ways," Neil says, not letting Andrew interrupt despite the flinch of his shoulder. "We know what you like and what you hate and are good at knowing when you're not...okay. If anyone badmouthes you, we're quick to go for the throat. I'm fine, ugh, more than fine having those things in common with Katelyn. You know how I'm different, that's all I need."

'No one else should be able to see me like that.'

It's shockingly vulnerable coming from Neil, not something he affords to anyone outside his family of Foxes.

It voids Andrew's argument. He's still not necessarily on board with the assumption, the comparison of Neil and Katelyn, but he trusts Neil.

He thinks of Aaron then, and wonders if he's reached the same conclusion. Andrew sighs, knowing Bee will have an absolute fucking field day with this. The anger simmers and dies right then, and he resigns himself to the consequences. There's no room for regret.

Maybe it's not the worst thing for him and Aaron to share, having two hot-headed cart-wheelers caring about them.

Andrew grimaces, but pulls Neil flush against him anyways. It might as well be a white flag.

The air is cold, but Andrew can't feel the chill. Neil hums, pleased with the show of affection, and Andrew doesn't have the energy to warn him for it.

Instead, he lets Neil press against him, the weight natural and not threatening. Idly, Neil traces the lines on Andrew's palms, delighted when the touch tickles enough for Andrew to twitch.

It's peaceful in a way Andrew has never known, but is becoming increasingly commonplace now that he acknowledges their 'this.'

Maybe it has something to do with Aaron too, but that's neither here nor there.

Neil raises his head, the question barely out of his mouth before Andrew slots their lips together.

There's no urgency or harshness like there used to be, but Andrew stopped being concerned about that too. He doesn't like to think about how fast he got used to this.

Of course, Neil can never leave well enough alone, that or he just likes to annoy Andrew. It's probably both. When they break apart, Neil's grin is smug. "Although, as far as physical similarities go, you're shit out of luck there."

"Neil."

"What?" Neil asks innocently, ignoring the warning in Andrew's tone. "Is it really so bad to think you and Aaron might have a thing for redheads?"

"I'll push you down these stairs."

"You like me too much," Neil points out, and Andrew can't refute it when he admitted it only minutes before.

Fucking junkie.

"Stop assuming."

"It's the truth," Neil taunts, grin still in place. "Isn't it?"

And oh, fuck Neil Josten to hell and back.

Andrew really, really hates Kevin.

"Yes," he grits out, resisting the urge to punch that look off Neil's face. Instead, he goes for a different approach. His eyes trail up Neil's body from head to toe. The baggy jacket isn't doing Neil many favors, but his legs are still clad in those yoga pants Andrew can't stand, clinging to his muscular legs and narrow hips. Andrew pauses over Neil's collarbones, then the lines of his neck. There's a few bruises there still, courtesy of Andrew.

As if sensing the shift in the air, Neil swallows, and Andrew watches the bob of his throat with interest. "What?"

Andrew shrugs as lazily as he can. "I'm not so sure. She does not have these," he begins to list, grabbing the piercings lining Neil's left ear. Sensitive skin; Andrew hadn't protested when Neil had come home with the new jewelry, Matt's idea. Neil's breathing stutters. "Or this..."

Andrew's hand grazes over his adam's apple, pressing down teasingly.

It's so easy to get Neil worked up, Andrew thinks, a product of the striker's unlimited supply of energy. Andrew never has a problem helping Neil burn it off. Neil is so transfixed, eyes glazing over and breath coming out in harsh pants. He doesn't even notice Andrew's hand ghosting farther down, hovering right over his groin.

Andrew gets so close to touching, his fingers tickling the fabric of Neil's pants. But he doesn't, because he didn't ask. It doesn't dull the effect of his raspy voice on Neil. "Or this--"

Neil's face flushes as expected, red tinting his cheeks as he laughs and grabs Andrew's hand. "Andrew!"

Neil looks around, as if expecting someone to pop out of nowhere to witness their shamelessness, but the stadium is as empty as it was before.

The corners of Andrew's mouth twitch upwards, imperceptible to anyone who isn't Neil. His breath is coming out a little labored now too, especially with Neil stealing glances at him and putting no effort into being subtle. There's only one thing to say. "I hate Kevin."

Neil snorts, agreeing. "How many times have you thought that in the last hour?"

"Shut up."

"Why don't you make me?"

And Andrew does, because there's no way he can refuse.

--

When he and Aaron go to their next session with Bee, they exchange a knowing glance. They're not dumb, they already know the subject is going to come up.

Aaron shifts in his seat uncomfortably when Bee sits in front of them, not quite sure how this'll play out. Of course, he's come to terms with Bee's statement from last time. Neil and Katelyn have a lot in common, and maybe it says something about the twins.

Sort of.

Whatever, he already drank plenty over it, and spent hours pushing the thoughts away while pinning Katelyn to her mattress.

It's fine, he's all good. He's accepted it.

That doesn't mean Andrew has, and Aaron eyes his twin nervously. Again, his brother takes a spoon to swirl his cocoa, letting it hit the rim each time. Bastard.

Bee is either oblivious to the tension in the room, or prepared for it. Aaron supposes she'd have to be.

She smiles at them, sweet as ever, and clicks her pen as the hour begins. "Well now, I guess I won't beat around the bush. Have either of you given a thought as to what we discussed last time?"

It's a ticking time bomb in Aaron's mind. The question is for them both, but he feels the spotlight settle on Andrew; the ball is in his court. He can either admit or deny, can condemn the whole session to hell with just a few words.

Andrew stops stirring his drink long enough to look between Aaron and Bee with disinterest. Aaron holds his breath while Andrew takes a sip of his mug, and then his twin just shrugs. "We might have a thing for redheads."

Aaron's jaw drops, and Bee's smile is overjoyed. Andrew looks like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world, but preferably with Neil.

Aaron is still staring at him stupidly when Bee clears her throat, her smile creasing her skin. "I'm very glad to hear you say that Andrew, thank you. Now, how about we discuss..."

Her words don't reach Aaron's ears quite yet. Andrew turns to him, a silent question, but Aaron only shakes his head, smiling in disbelief.

It's as much as they're going to get from him, they know, but it doesn't make it any less of a confession. It's Andrew acknowledging Bee's theory, accepting parts of it. Accepting Aaron again, as having more in common with him than a lifetime of strife.

Aaron settles back into the couch, limbs loose and chest light, and tries not to smile as much as he wants to.

Later, Katelyn tells Aaron to invite Andrew and Neil over to her dorm to watch that movie she mentioned.

He does, and it no longer feels like a shock when Andrew says yes.

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #aaron minyard

[themockingcrows]

Home Run Movie Night

Davepetasprite/John This is NOT SFW! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475938 cw: nooks and bulges, nook eating, nook fingering, anal sex, interspecies sex, First Time, bodily fluids, sloppy makeouts

After a delightful first date (Second Base Desserts), the plan had been made for a movie night. Though now that the movie is playing and the scene is set, it's not nearly as important as the attractive sprite that's already got a plan of their own in mind!

     Popcorn? Check.

     Soda? Check.

     Movies? Double check, he had them in spades thanks to his previous years of collecting only the finest in cinematic entertainment.

     Comfy spot? He’d made a blanket fort earlier, encasing the television area in sheets and blankets and pillows aplenty so it was soft and cozy to cuddle up in. And probably to make out in, if he was being honest and hopeful.

     Everything else…? A bit of a tossup. While John didn’t want to be presumptuous, his time in the scouts as a young child and being his father’s son had entangled within him a strong sense of preparedness. After the intensity of his date with Davepeta before, the grinding, the making out, he had no idea when the time would be right to go further beyond that. Supposedly when the time was right he’d know, but what about being prepared? He had some lube, and some condoms but there was a problem.

     What kind of genitals did Davepeta even have…? Did they need something special for them? What anatomy was going to be worked with? Did they both need condoms? Were sprites able to get pregnant or anything? To add to the mystery, there was bird DNA and troll DNA at work as well, so who the fuck even knew what all there was in play. Maybe, just like the rest of the sprite, it’d be something one of a kind and special only to them. Which was all well and dandy but it really fed into his lingering anxiety about what to anticipate. It was like a really sexy Christmas present lurking under his tree, waiting for the eventual day that he might get to peek inside of it and see what had been teasing him for so long.

     Would it be like his daydreams of the last few weeks since their date? Though even that data was limited. He registered warm and soft and wet but as soon as he tried to see what he was dealing with down there his mind blanked out and focused on remembering their face instead. Which was nice, considering it had been what had driven him crazy to begin with, but not the nicest when he was trying to think of different things while getting himself off. Fap fodder was plenty with his imagination normally when he needed it, but the specifics of the sprite eluded him as much as a fae on a summer’s night.

     John paced his living room double checking everything for the fourth time before the doorbell rang, making him jump out of his skin and scramble around the corner at breakneck speed. He froze in front of the door, collected himself, smoothed his hair back, checked his breath and finally opened up with a grin.

     Perfect.

     They were absolutely perfect, even dressed down casual, and John couldn’t wrap his fucking head around how it was even possible. Davepeta was wearing some basketball shorts that hung loose around their muscular thighs, flip flops, and a baggy tie dye t-shirt that complemented their opalescent skin. They also, John realized after the initial hug of greeting, weren’t wearing a bra this time. Absolute comfort was in mind here obviously, yet John couldn’t forget the feeling of their breast from their date or the way their lips tasted.

     Today they tasted like iced mocha and caramel sauce when they kissed him, taking their time in the greeting before pulling back with a curled grin.

     “Thanks for having me ofur today, John. I’m sure we’ll have an ameowzing time!” they said excitedly, wings ruffling in excitement before folding against their back.

     “If I’ve got anything to say about it, it’ll be ama- uh. Ameowzing,” John said, gesturing grandly for his datemate to enter. Datemate? Were they dating now? He’d never officially asked, and Davepeta never mentioned it, but this was two dates in now so… probably? Maybe?

     Fuck, why did he overthing so many things at the worst possible time.

     “Ohhhh shit look at this, you really purrpared didn’t you!” Davepeta said, kicking off their sandals before racing to the pillow fort, leaning down to peer inside. “Wow, there’s even light inside…”

     “Yeah, I don’t want to toot my own horn here but I’m a pretty much a pillow fort master,” John said, thumbs hooking into the front of his own t-shirt as if he were holding suspenders. He caught side of Davepeta’s tail disappearing into the canopied space before dropping the act with a laugh and following them inside. Davepeta had already secured a comfortable spot near the snacks, curling up on their side in view of the television while leaving plenty of space for John to nestle good and close. Presumably, based on the fact one hand was patting the pillowy ground invitingly, he was indeed meant to be that close.

     The first movie was selected by John, Davepeta too busy giggling at all the choices and saying they sounded terrible to be of much assistance, but they didn’t wind up watching much of it. Ten minutes in and there was a hand on John’s thigh, kneading at the flesh rhythmically and distracting him. Fifteen in and Davepeta had crawled onto part of his lap, resting their head on his thigh. Twenty, and Davepeta was settled on their back on John’s lap like a cat who’d successfully snuck onto a comfy spot, and at some point after that they’d started to kiss and he lost all track of time. Who needed time when someone this attractive wanted to lock lips with you? They could always watch the movie over again, but for now it made for a nice background noise in the cozy nest he’d made.

     “Did you miss me?” they breathed against his mouth.

     “Of course I did, it’s just not the same without you around,” John admitted, stroking at their bright hair, the strands aglow with neon hues. 

     “Did you think about what we did before?” they teased, that predatory grin sliding so easily across their face that John had to flush and bite his lip. Of course he’d thought about it. He’d thought about it daily. Nightly. It was impossible to not hyper-focus on, being a first of its kind for him.

     “Yeah. A lot,” John said, trailing a finger from their hair to their delicately pointed ear, stroking along the point and the length of it till he was stroking the side of their face instead.

     “You know I’m not wearing a bra,” they said matter of factly, almost out of the blue were it not for the distinct link to their previous encounter. “But do you want to know a secret?”

     “Sure,” John said, throat feeling a bit tight. Okay, they were being pretty bold already, maybe more touching was in his future.

     Davepeta perched on their elbows and curled their long body upwards towards John’s ear, whispering a warm breath into it.

     “The panties match.”

     John’s throat ran dry. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he had enough saliva to do it properly, and then pulled back to look down at Davepeta on his lap. They were grinning and waggling their eyebrows playfully before breaking out into a laugh like bells, pushing up from their comfy spot on his lap to rise up onto their knees. Their palms soon rested on John’s knees, keeping him from adjusting his position as they leaned up to kiss him gently once more.

     “Do you want to see…?”

     “I.”

     “You?”

     “I uh. Y-. ...Yeah,” he finally got out, kicking himself mentally over and over for stammering. Stupid! Stupiiiiiiiid! You’re supposed to be suave and in control of the situation, or at least participating better! Where did all the preparedness go?

     “Let’s have some snacks and watch some of the movie, and we can play it like a game,” they suggested. “Every so often, I’ll ditch a piece of clothing, and you have to do the same. Eventually the whole kittenkaboodle’ll be gone.”

     “Wait, what?”

     Davepeta grinned that same calculating grin again, fangs glinting. “John, my end goal is to both be naked and the only reason I’m not taking it all off in one go is to see mew squirm a bit.”

     “Th-! That seems like cheating!” John said, mind racing. They weren’t wearing much to begin with. Naked. Both naked. Oh, God, was this really happening?

     “Seems pretty fair to the person only wearing two pieces of clothes. Here, I’ll start,” Davepeta said before reaching back behind themselves to tug at their shirt. John could hear the gradual give of velcro before the shirt was loosening and coming off. They held the loose fabric in front of their chest for a moment, eyeing John closely before letting it drop.

     Though John had only felt them previously, seeing was an entirely different prospect, and his hands dropped immediately to his lap to quell the response it invoked. Davepeta’s breasts were lovely, really, better than pictures of normal humans John had sneaked peeks of online. Part of it was because of the pearly sheen their skin had, highlights brighter and shadows softer, nipples perky in the cool air of the living room. Or were they like that because of what they were doing together...? The thought that, somehow, John was responsible for that perkiness was appealing.

     “Well?” Davepeta said, setting their shirt aside.

     “Well what,” John asked. Fuck, was he supposed to do something? His hands lifted and hovered as if he were going to grasp both breasts at once, but went no further. Something wasn’t connecting properly in his brain and he knew it, think think think Egbert come on!

     “Your shirt…?” Davepeta said. “Mew need to ditch yours too meow. Follow the leader, remember?”

     John’s face flared red before he scrambled to tuck his head down into his shirt like a turtle, hands rushing to the bottom to rip it up over his face and toss the bundled fabric aside. There wasn’t nearly as much of interest on John as Davepeta, thin chest flat, edges of his ribs visible. John had always hoped that someday he’d be as strong as his father, as wide, yet so far he hadn’t filled out like that. Muscle mass just wasn’t in the cards yet.

     Davepeta seemed comfortable being shirtless, which made sense considering half of their makeup was someone who’d been able to be shirtless any time he wanted in his life. ...Was Nepeta able to do the same? John didn’t understand a lot of things about trolls, maybe troll girls were able to go shirtless all the time too on Alternia. Was that a weird thing to ask? It was probably a weird thing to ask. And probably weirder that he couldn’t help but keep gawking over now and then at what rested above the popcorn. It was boobs John, grow up. It’s not like he’d never seen boobs before, he’d even felt them before!

     …

     Boobs.

     “Can we start the movie over?” Davepeta asked, reclining leisurely onto the blankets and cushions beside John after grabbing the popcorn bowl. They took a handful and fed a kernel at a time into their mouth, crunching idly. “I wasn’t paying attention before. Whoops.”

     “Uhm. Yeah,” John said, taking a few seconds too long to go and fetch the remote control, clicking back through the scenes to the beginning. What movie even was this? He had no interest in the film anymore, not so long as the sprite lay beside him half naked and tempting.

     What would happen if he just moved the popcorn bucket and rolled over on top of them for a kiss? Would they be happy? Annoyed? Would he ruin the mood, or make it even better? Augh, Davepeta was being a tease and this was so confusing to decipher! It didn’t help that every time he peeked over seemed to be the time Davepeta was casually eating popcorn and looking right back at him with a grin. They knew the power they held, and they were using every inch of it for evil it seemed.

     John reached for some popcorn, though he wasn’t in the mood for snacks anymore. All he wanted to do was kiss Davepeta again, and lose himself like he’d started to earlier. Or did he? After all, the sprite was only wearing shorts now. There was apparently nothing on underneath them. When those came off, Davepeta would be naked, and he’d be stuck in his underwear a bit longer unless he could man up enough to yank them down too. Or had Davepeta planned that as well?

     With thoughts running through his head, John barely even noticed at first when Davepeta’s hand crept back to his thigh and began to knead as the movie played. They spread their fingers out, feeling along the fabric of his pants now and then before curling up to squeeze repeatedly, working from his outer thigh to his inner thigh and-

     That was a hand on his dick. Oh, God, that was a hand on his dick and one glance down at Davepeta proved that it was entirely intentional and holy shit it felt nice. John bit his lip to keep quiet, not wanting to groan immediately, and closed his eyes instead. Don’t pop a boner. Don’t get a boner immediately. Come on, John, don’t get a boner immediately. Don’t. Do not. Resist. RESIST.

     He failed, and Davepeta’s grip grew gentler, a fond stroking through the fabric of his pants instead of the heavy kneading of before.

     Mercy?

     No. Not from the look on their face, it wasn’t. Davepeta was glancing at him from beneath hooded eyes, calculating, gauging his reactions to different pressure up till he started to softly pant. Only then did they remove their hand and set aside the popcorn bowl.

     Dry mouthed, John watched as Davepeta hooked their thumbs into the hem of their shorts and tugged downwards, exposing the flat, muscular plane of their stomach and abdomen, the crest of their hips, and…

     What was that.

     John squinted a bit, confused. At first glance, he thought he was dealing with a normal human vulva, albeit tinted shades of green and orange. Yet… the longer he looked at it, the more it appeared that something down there was moving.

     “Like what you see?” Davepeta asked, striking a pose as they dangled their shorts off one foot showily, the angle of their leg and thigh drawing John’s line of sight before it reverted back to the focus point of his interest. Yes, something was definitely moving down there, gently peeking out of their body as if it had a mind of its own before withdrawing once more.

     “I uhm. Well. Yes, just. ...Uh,” John stammered, not sure what to say. Davepeta was naked, of course he liked what he saw. He just. Didn’t know exactly what he was liking in that moment.

     Grinning broader, Davepeta suddenly rolled and settled half atop John’s torso, hands fussing at the front of his pants. “Your turn!”

     Wait, he was still hard. Oh, God, wait, he was still hard!

     A tussle, half wrestling half resisting later, and John was left in his underwear with his pants around his knees. Davepeta was settled astride his thighs proudly, tail whipping left and right over his shins, the top of their head propping up one of the droopier blankets of the fort. This wasn’t ideal. Or maybe it was, considering John had breasts in his face and a clearer view of what he’d been gawking at before.

     A tentabulge, he thought it was called. It sounded familiar at least. A slim tendril was shyly peeking out and feeling around Davepeta’s skin before sliding back into its bodily sheathe the longer John looked. A part of him had expected a humanoid dick considering Dave was involved, and he’d steeled himself for that, but this was definitely new. Prehensile and new. Intriguing. Shyly he reached a finger forward and watched as the reaching tendril wrapped around it for a moment before retracting again. He felt Davepeta shiver on his lap and bit his lip anxiously.

     Holy shit, this was really happening wasn’t it. His first time and it was going to be with some fairly alien equipment. A glance up towards Davepeta’s face made any apprehension disappear though. They were smiling at him lovingly, apparently glad that he approved of what he saw. Maybe even relieved. Had anyone else done anything with the sprite…? Was this a bit of a first for both of them?

     Without thinking, John reached up and hooked his arms around Davepeta’s narrow hips, resting his hands square on their ass for stability and for the chance to give a knead of his own. They hummed throatily and shuffled their wings before leaning forward, resting their arms around his neck.

     “Do mew have any idea how long I’ve wanted you to see me like this…?” they asked. “The only reason I didn’t jump you in the forest was because it felt better to wait. And look now! We’ve got a fort all our own!”

     John’s cuddle cave was apparently going to be used for much lewder purposes tonight, and all he could think in the moment was to praise himself for the lights and the television placement that kept the pale, pearly flesh in front of him in perfect lighting to savor and enjoy. They were warm beneath his hands and against his chest, and when they kissed him again it was sweet and tender.

     Shit, they’d really wanted this hadn’t they. Well. At least the feeling was mutual. Davepeta sank down so they were sitting on John’s thigh and he blinked in confusion when he felt something wet against his skin. Apparently the bulge wasn’t the only thing Davepeta was in possession of, though it took John an embarrassingly long time to try to remember the name he’d heard before for it. If this was a part of troll anatomy and not something entirely different, it was a nook, right? Was that the same as a vagina? Or entirely different? It was at an angle that John couldn’t exactly see it, only feel it against his thigh, which wasn’t enough.

     Davepeta seemed to read his mind, and kissed against his nape for a moment.

     “Would mew like to see what you’re dealing with…?”

     John swallowed briefly before giving an excited nod. Yes, he wanted to get a clear look. And maybe a touch. And maybe more. He’d seen porn before, yeah, and he had some ideas of what he wanted to do already on his own, but it all would depend on what there physically was on the field. What would feel good and what wouldn’t to them?

     If he could make Davepeta feel good, he’d call it a successful night.

     Scooting backwards and freeing John’s legs, Davepeta glanced to a free space on the pillow fort’s floor and took it, reclining carefully to avoid damaging their wings. They propped up on their elbows to watch John’s face before parting their legs and giving him a full view of their genitals, the bulge unfurling further than before in excitement. It coiled against itself, a shimmering green with orange highlights here and there along its length, and spread some kind of a liquid that John could only assume was similar to lubrication or pre-come. It had to be something after all, right? The nook rested below it, a much more benign and inactive opening that seemed to have traces of the same fluid from the bulge that restlessly coiled and reached above it. For a brief moment it looked as if the bulge was going to probe that nook on its own, and it was enough to snap John out of his stupor.

     This was real.

     Davepeta was naked in front of him, showing their most intimate parts, and he’d not even commented. Jesus, where were his manners. Fascination aside, he was grateful to be gifted like this in the first place. John cleared his throat and shucked his pants the rest of the way  before crawling closer to Davepeta’s legs, tracing a hand over their shin and calf a few times.

     “You’re gorgeous.”

     That seemed to be the right thing to say, judging from the neon glow of a blush that dusted their pearly cheeks.

     “Can I uhm,” he started, then took a breath and let it out. “...Can I touch you?”

     “I thought you’d never ask.”

     With permission obtained and Davepeta already parting their legs a bit further to accommodate him, John sank down to his elbows and scooted closer. He pressed a kiss to their thigh a few times, spangling their skin with it, before approaching the focus of his interest. The bulge was even larger than before, more of its girth emerging even as John drew closer, till it finally stopped and stood proudly on display.

     Davepeta was bigger than him, and while part of John was a little embarrassed about it, the realization was also… kind of hot? What would that feel like inside of him? Oh, fuck, was he honestly thinking about tackling that monster tonight? He reached a hand forward to gently grasp the bulge, taking in the slick texture of it, the tense coil that was all muscle grasping at him, feeling his fingers and palm. The sprite shivered again and curled their toes. ...Hmm, apparently he didn’t really need to do all that much to make it feel good.

     Yet, not satisfied with that alone, John leaned forwards bravely to give the bulge a lick. Oral was standard as foreplay, right? Touching and tasting was what he’d seen in porn, the fact it felt like something was trying to taste him back was just a bonus apparently. Whatever fluid coated it had a neutral flavor, the scent being entirely Davepeta in origin. It was kind of addictive really. John held still as the tentabulge stretched and reached for his face, feeling around wetly before he tipped his head and opened his mouth in offer.

     “A-ah!” Davepeta twitched harshly as John closed his lips, giving an experimental suck on the appendage. Eager, he tried to figure out how to allow more into his mouth, before having to yank back with a cough as the bulge headed straight for his throat.

     “Fuck,” he hissed.

     “Sorry,” the sprite mumbled, biting their lip. Shit. They looked almost shy like that, so different from their normal in-your-face attitude and existence. Loud and proud.

     “No, no, it’s okay. Let me just…” he murmured, wrangling the excited bulge with one hand and giving an experimental squeeze before dipping his head down lower to explore the nook with his tongue. A lick to the outside, a few flat lathes of his tongue, and he was pressing harder to breach the opening.

     Sweet. Sweet and moist and pliant, and oh God he could feel Davepeta’s thighs against his ears as their legs swung closer, squeezing at him encouragingly. He felt hands in his hair, combing gently, petting at him. He didn’t need to be told twice. Closing his eyes, John busied himself with Davepeta’s nook with his mouth and fingers of one hand while his other fist dealt with the muscular bulge, alternating between squeezing and just letting it explore and rub against his fingers.

     “John,” they crooned, voice sweet and higher than usual, breathy. “John, John, John, John…!”

     Apparently just feeling the situation out was the right thing to do. And honestly? He could get used to this. Every time he licked or probed with a finger, the sprite twittered and convulsed against him, squeezing his head with their thighs. Every time his fist moved they were trying to spread their knees apart, winding up in this rhythmic writhing motion that felt so natural John couldn’t imagine anything better.

     Eventually though, he pulled back to look up at Davepeta, up past their flat stomach and beautiful breasts to their upturned, breathless face. He just sat there a moment, taking it all in. Savoring it. Stamping it on a part of his brain that would never forget how that pearly skin looked with multicolored lights from a long forgotten movie flashing over it, how his name had sounded coming from their passionately parted lips.

     Beautiful. Handsome. Striking.

     Perfect.

     ...Mostly perfect. The situation did have one down side John realized, shifting till he was on his knees. His underwear was in the way, and by now was uncomfortable. A damp spot at the front of the tent showed the amount of restraint he’d had till now, finally wiggling them down and off. The relief he felt was immediate, making him wonder why he hadn’t ditched them sooner to join the sprite in the nudist party.

     Wait.

     Shit.

     Preparedness.

     This was the moment, wasn’t it? This was that moment where things went even further that he’d been warned he’d recognize, and now that he recognized it John didn’t know what to do. He looked from Davepeta to the makeshift doorway of the fort to the table drawer where a few things lay inside in waiting. Did he need any of the things in there? That bulge wouldn’t fit a condom, and it seemed to be making its own lubrication, but-

     “John,” Davepeta suddenly cooed, drawing his attention back. “You look like a deer in headlights.”

     “Sorry, I’m just… I don’t know what I need next,” he admitted. “I mean. Condoms and stuff. I don’t know.”

     “I can’t get pregnant,” Davepeta said. “At least I’m pretty sure I can’t. There’s too much blended up inside of me to manage that, especially when you add the game code in there. And trolls don’t work that way either. So I think we’re good on that front,” they promised, shifting their legs. John hadn’t noticed it till now, but the fluid the bulge was leaving behind had a faint green tint to it, as if a tiny drop of food dye had been placed in a bucket of liquid. “As for me needing something… all I need is mew.”

     Davepeta was up and moving again then, coming closer to John and placing a hand on his cock, hand giving a few strokes till he shuddered and twitched, more than willing to lay back when pressed. Their bulge snaked forward and wrapped around his length once they removed their hand and shuffled even closer, squeezing it like a python before beginning to wiggle excitedly, tip probing here and there to try finding a waiting nook instead of testes and a taint.

     “How uh-,” John started, only to be cut off when Davepeta kissed him, pressing their bodies against each other warmly and tangling their legs. There already seemed to be a plan in motion, he just needed to catch up with it and try to think of anything other than the bulge that was continuing to squeeze and writhe against his dick.

     Oh.

     Oh, okay, that was something he could think about.

     Being braver, John deepened the kiss and rolled Davepeta to their back once more, pressing them down. He felt their knees against his hips tighten and hold on, bulge squeezing harder along his dick. This might work. The bulge was long enough that it could probably reach his ass while he was exploring their nook. They could both enjoy themselves at the same time, right? Or would it have been easier to have them be reverse cowgirl..?

     No.

     This felt good, this felt right. The squeeze of legs at his hips, the encouraging scratch of nails against his upper back and between his shoulder blades, the warm press of their tongue against his own and the way they were already trying to grind together without words felt natural. John’s hips hitched briefly when the bulge unfurled from his length and went lower, squeezing at his testicles before slipping between his legs and probing at his entrance.

     “Take a breath,” Davepeta murmured softly when they felt John tense up, kissing him again till he relaxed.

     It wasn’t as bad as he’d worried it might be, not by far. Thanks to the gradual increase in size, the slickness, and the gentleness of the appendage, what started as a few slick passes over his hole soon gave way to what felt like a small finger, expanding upwards into something more arousing as he adjusted bit by bit to the intrusion.

     Davepeta moaned softly against his lips again, and John decided to make his move, hips rocking gently as he blindly probed a few times, missing the nook by a mile. The sprite reached down to grab hold of him and adjusted their bodies together, aligning him smoothly. The situation sank in again. A forgotten movie played in the background, some heroic line or another being said to an audience that had much better things on their mind. Popcorn rested in its bowl on a cushion nearby, clothes lay abandoned in piles, and two naked bodies rested in the center of a blanket fort that had been made with care.

     John held his breath and sank forward… and groaned with bliss as warmth enveloped his cock, the bulge pressing deeper at the same time and stiffening reflexively. They were plenty wet, allowing him to slide in bit by shaking bit as they continued to lazily kiss, the entire affair leisurely and sweet. When they were flush together, John went still to let the bulge probe deeper, giving a jerk when he felt the firm brush against his prostate. Radio static ran down his spine in a harsh tingle.

     “Keep doing that,” John gasped urgently against Davepeta’s lips as he shakily pulled his hips back and pressed forward again. A few steady times of this and John felt confident enough to start thrusting in a pattern, pace staggered occasionally as the bulge began to imitate him, withdrawing and thrusting deeper before squirming in place wetly.

     For all the times that John had imagined his first time, it had been nothing like this. He’d always imagined he’d wind up with some girl or another, that his first time would be in a bed, that he might even be married first in some cases. The living room floor was never going to be the same for him again. 

     Davepeta had begun to make needy, throaty sounds whenever the kisses broke, gasps and moans, soft cries. Begging. Their voice split occasionally, sometimes a bit lower like Dave’s and sometimes higher like Nepeta’s must have sounded like, sometimes two at once before blending back together properly to Davepeta’s usual range.

     John braced his legs and did the best he could do, hammering forwards and pulling back, trying to keep his movements smooth despite the assault against his prostate, fucking hard enough that Davepeta’s breasts bounced against his own chest hypnotically. They kissed messily, wetly. They bit. They scratched.

     Salty. Sweet. Bitter.

     “Horns,” they begged, rolling their head till John reached up and caught hold of them, bracing his weight on his elbows to accommodate the grab and hold maneuver, rubbing his thumbs along the ridges.

     The sprite tensed and babbled a warning against John’s mouth, too many words and not enough breath, but John couldn’t stop even if he wanted to right then. He bowed his head and thrust harder and faster, giving a guess as to what was coming.

     He wasn’t prepared.

     No sooner had John come with a strangled cry, Davepeta did the same. ...And they came. ...And came. ...And came.

     John felt fluid down his thighs and against his dick, felt Davepeta biting his lower lip and their knees squeezing his hips to trap him in place. No worries there, he was too sensitive to move anywhere fast, and even though the bulge had stilled it was still a firm presence in the back of his mind until it slowly withdrew. More wetness on his legs had John shakily propping up on his hands to glance down, taking in the green tinted mess on the pillows and sheets before he lay back down atop his datemate and sighed.

     “Is that normal? Like. Does that happen every time?”

     “It’s normal,” they promised, breathless, hands reaching up to toy with John’s messy hair, the tufts winding up even more wild thanks to their ministrations.

     He felt… the same. Somehow, John had assumed that losing his virginity would make him feel different. Instead, he just felt sticky and tired and warm and so full of love for the person beneath him that it felt like his heart was going to explode. John rolled to his side and pulled Davepeta with him, pulling one of their long legs up over his hips to stroke at while they lazily kissed at his face and lips, basking in afterglow together.

     The movie had reached its own climax apparently, but it was just noise. The popcorn lay abandoned, forgotten, the soda untouched. They had the entire night to themselves, with nobody to interrupt them.

     “...Wanna do it again?” Davepeta purred, smirking wickedly despite the tiredness.

     “Already?”

     “Yeah. I’ve gotten a taste of mew and I’m purroud to say I want more,” said the sprite, licking their lips. “Though this time… I want to be on top.”

     Dazed and still more than a little out of it, John could only nod. 

     Yeah. Sure.

     Why not.

     Sex was nice, he’d like more when his dick cooperated with him again.

     “You’re not letting me get any sleep tonight, are you,” John said, realization sinking in.

     “Nope.”

     “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow, huh.”

     “Purrobably,” they said, shifting their weight to get John onto his back, hands sliding along his chest and arms till they reached his wrists, pinning them down easily.

     “...Will it be worth it?” he asked, lips parting as the sprite leaned down for a kiss, licking his bottom lip playfully.

“Absolutely.”

#davepetasprite #davepetasprite^2 #Davepeta #John Egbert #Homestuck #davepeta/john #not sfw #my fic

[wrathandgreed]

Obey Me! MC-Tiber, Day 2 :)

(If you want the basics of Rae, click here)

Day 2: Okay, I know, it’s the 10th and I’m WAY behind - my schedule is killing me.

Prompt: MC With Belphie

Headcanons about Rae and Belphie (be aware I’ve only gone through lesson 21)

It takes her a LONG time to trust Belphie.

In her experience, people who get away with hurting you WILL hurt you again.

She takes the pact with him as a form of self-protection. Both to be able to make him stop if he tries to hurt her again, but also so he doesn’t suspect how terrified she is of him.

She hasn’t been in the Devildom long enough to truly understand that these are demons, not humans.

Once she does, she starts to trust him. She sees his 180-degree turn as an astonishing change.

For a being thousands of years old to change his mind like that, it must have been a profound moment for him.

Takes a little longer for her to trust him. His habit of napping on her actually helped that.

I imagine it goes something like this.....

Warnings: Cursing, nightmares related to assault, violence

The scent invaded her dreams.

It should have been a warm, comforting scent. Rae would ponder it while awake. Warm vanilla and leather, just a hint of sandalwood. A cozy, homey kind of scent. Something you would find in a winter candle.

In her dreams, it was terrifying. She couldn’t breathe, there were hands around her throat, but somehow she kept smelling that smell. It filled her nostrils, wrapped around her head, reached down her throat and spread through her lungs and belly. Her vision filled with deep violet and pink, the intense satisfaction in his eyes as he strangled the life out of her. The pressure of thumbs on her throat choked her.

She fought for breath. It seemed to go on forever - how long could she not breathe and still live? How could she still smell vanilla and leather but not any air that would bring her relief? How long could he stare at her without blinking? How long could he hold that grip? Why couldn’t she just die already?

Rae could hear the harsh rasping of his breath as she struggled to find her own. Her chest spasmed and her throat felt like cement.

Rae’s eyes snapped open. For a second she still couldn’t breathe and her vision started to black out again. Realizing what was happening, she forced herself to take a small breath. Once that one hit, she drew in another, bigger breath. And another. One gasp after another until she was sure she would continue to breathe if she stopped thinking about it.

She lifted a trembling hand to her face. Her whole body shook in a desperate attempt to stave off tears. Or fear. Or both.

God, she missed her therapist.

(Lucifer had offered to try and arrange phone sessions, but she declined. How could she explain her life here to a therapist without sounding batshit insane? She had one last session about her going “abroad” on a scholarship program so he didn’t alert the authorities that she was missing.)

She blinked uncertainly up at the ceiling. It wasn’t the ceiling of her room. It wasn’t Mammon’s room. She must have fallen asleep in the common room again. With the nightmares, she wasn’t sleeping much at night, so her body conked out wherever she wound up relaxing.

They’d go away. They always did. It wasn’t the first time something had happened to her that caused nightmares. The usual things helped; sleeping with some kind of light (she’d strung up fairy lights around the tree in her bedroom) and some white noise. While the nightmares lasted, she tried to make sure she slept in her own, familiar room instead of Mammon’s weird cement garage. He complained a little but she got the feeling he liked her room better anyway. She’d see about getting some kind of scented candle for her room - something fresh and citrusy, something light, something the opposite of warm, heavy vanilla and leather.

Rae tried to shift, then realized the weight and pressure on the bottom of her legs wasn’t a blanket, but Belphegor and his pillow.

Of course. Of fucking course. He saw someone napping, and decided to join in. That’s why the smell invaded her dream. Because he was actually right here with her. The smell was Belphegor’s own signature scent; each brother seemed to have one.

She resisted the urge to push him off the couch to the floor. It was petty and wouldn’t make anything better. He didn’t understand, and she wasn’t sure he could understand. The fact that she’d been all smiles and helpfulness to him since he fucking murdered her made him think she was friendly and forgiving. Which made him approach her more. Which meant more smiles and helpfulness.

She’d been honest with him - she didn’t forgive him.

But….maybe she should.

This wasn’t the first time he’d found her catnapping and joined her. If he was going to hurt her, he’d had a dozen more opportunities to do so. She’d been smiles and helpfulness - but so had he. He’d given her a pact as an apology, and she’d taken it to protect herself. He’d tried to spend time with her, to get to know her as his brothers had, and she’d dodged him and done her damndest to avoid being alone with him. So maybe joining her naps was his way of bonding with her. Talking about stories was how she bonded with Satan, and video game chatter was how she bonded with Levi. She was refusing to bond with Belphegor, so maybe he was trying to bond with her.

For nearly all-powerful demons, they really were love-, affection-, attention-, and touch-starved.

She leaned up on her elbows and studied him. His black and white hair lay over his black and white pillow. Both were resting on her legs. One of his hands cupped her calf like a stuffed animal.

Belphegor shifted slightly in his sleep, stretched, and she felt her heart jump. Calm down, she whispered in her head. She took a steadying breath and smiled as he blinked his eyes open and noticed she was already awake.

“Hey,” he murmured, lifting his fingers to brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Hey,” she returned. She took another breath. If she was going to move forward, she had to make a move. Making a move wouldn’t stop the dreams, but forming a relationship with him might. What would she do with literally any of the other brothers? She’d probably smack them with one of the couch pillows, but that kind of playfulness was definitely not on the table yet. “Uh…..I think we missed lunch. Do you want to hit up Hell’s Kitchen for a bite?”

He blinked, and she didn’t miss the surprise in his eyes. “Do you want to grab Beel or someone to come along?”

Rae shook her head. Time to make a move forward. “They’re all busy I think. Mammon’s getting reamed by Lucifer for something. That may or may not be metaphorical.”

Belphegor chuckled and sat up.

With the weight off her legs, Rae swung them down to the ground and stood up. “Levi’s in some kind of sixteen-hour raid, Satan’s so deep in a book he won’t surface til dinner, and Beel’s at practice. If you want company for lunch, you’re stuck with me.”

“I mean, if you’re ok with it.” He stood slowly and Rae realized she’d misjudged him. He knew exactly how uncomfortable she felt with him.

She put on a smile. After a few moments, it solidified into a real smile and warmed her face. “Sure,” she said. She was surprised at how steady her voice sounded. With only the briefest hesitation, she offered her hand. “Let’s go get some grub.”

Another moment of hesitation, then Belphie linked his hand with hers and they walked together out the door.

#obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me mctober #mctober #obey me mc #obey me fic #obey me rae

[madelinecoffee]

On Her Own Ch. 4

Summary: 10 years into being a vampire on her own Bella meets Esme at the bookstore where she works, and Esme brings her home hoping Bella will choose to join their family. 

A/N: Here you go another chapter! If you read it at all please tell me what you think. I don’t do tagging because it spikes my anxiety, but I do tag this on her own * if you want to track it Words: 2730 Previous Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Bella briefly awoke to Esme kissing her head and tucking the covers tighter around her. “Sorry Bella, me and Carlisle have to run an errand in the city I forgot about. It’s still early you go back to sleep.”

Bella rolled over mumbling a quick okay, wanting to call the woman Mom but there was a layer of embarrassment to the idea she couldn’t figure out.

When she woke up it was to Rosalie next to her reading a book, which she promptly put down when she noticed Bella rousing.

“You know for a vampire you sleep a lot” Rosalie commented, “Maybe it’s because you’re not getting good sleep. Esme said you mumble and move around a lot.”

Bella spoke, “I never met another vampire who really slept, and my interactions were always short. What’s all your sleep like?”

Rosalie mused for a second before responding, “If Alice is having trouble with her visions she’ll sleep like a day really hard and Jasper usually will sleep if she is. If we’ve been around large crowds or just a lot of intense emotion he’ll sleep for a day too. The same with Edward, but he usually doesn’t sleep like at all. Emmett sleeps like a rock when he does and he usually does once a week. Esme and Carslie are the same. Me too, unless it’s been a hard day and then I can sleep for a while.”

Bella spoke quietly, feeling shy in front of the beautiful vampire “What do you mean bad days?”

Rosalie gave her a sad smile, “That’s actually why I’m in here, the boys went out hunting and Alice wants to get a few things together. But I wanted to tell you my story.” Bella nodded and pulled her knees up towards her. So Rosalie told her of her life before, and how it ended and Bella felt her eyes filling with tears at the cruelty Rose faced. Rosalie went on to tell her about her anger at being changed without a choice and anger over the whole thing how desperately she wanted kids. But how with Emmett she felt better, and understood Carlisle changing her. Letting Emmett die would have felt like such a waste of a life.

As Rosalie finished Bella thanked her but spoke up, “I understand that you were angry and still are about not getting a choice. And it’s not fair Rosalie it’s really not of it is. But at least someone changed you out of love and compassion, and they stayed with you.” Bella felt her eyes pricking with tears, it always hurt to remember. She was so alone and it hurt. Why did she have to remember it? Why couldn’t she just listen to Rose’s story without freaking out?

“I was changed by complete accident, because I was supposed to be a meal but I wasn’t. And then I was alone, and a complete freak.” Rose tried to reach toward her but Bella was shaking and crying and Rosalie didn’t know what to do she could tell this was no longer about her. She wished anyone else in her family were here, where the hell was Edward. She needed her mate.

“I was an accident Rosalie! I’m the reason my parents got married, and then it all went to shit. And then I got turned into a vampire by accident. My life is an accident, and no one wants me. My own mother doesn’t even want me.” Bella sobbed harder, “No one wants me.”

Rose spoke, “Oh Bella we want you, I want you to stay.”

But Bella was to far gone, Rosalie could practically see the pain radiating form her. Then the boys burst through the door, Edward immediately going to Bella taking the details from Rose’s mind. While Emmett came over to hold Rosalie against him.

He started rocking her humming the lullaby he wrote for her, trying to soothe her crying. His heart broke as she kept mumbling that no one wanted her.

Alice had come to the door, taking Jasper’s hand and brining her over to where Edward was holding Bella. Jasper was just overcome with her pain and feelings of abandonment.

“Bella” Alice spoke softly and firmly causing the young vampire to look at her, “We want you. Edward wants to be your mate, and we want to be your siblings.”

Bella shook her head, her past experiences telling her different; everyone left her.

Emmett spoke up, “Bella we do want you. Who’s going to help me beat Jasper in video games?”

Jasper smirked, “And you don’t even know how moody and broody Edward was before you came along.”

Bella sniffled a little he tears slowing as she snuggled more into Edward.

Rosalie spoke next, “With you the girls are finally even. We need you for our baseball team. It’ll be fun Bella.”

Alice spoke again in the same firm but kind voice, “It sucks that your mom doesn’t want you, but she’s a fucking idiot.” All her siblings nodded, “We love you and want you to stay. Okay? Just think about it.”

Bella tried to nod but she was already slumping against Edward, exhausted from her episode he kissed her hair still humming her lullaby as he took her back to her bed.

Jasper spoke, “I know she’s not blood thirsty like a new born, but her emotions. They’re so intense and they just overcame her. I think a lot of them just came over from when she was a human. She just feels so alone, and confused.”

Emmett spoke, “Do you think we can help Jazz?” He looked sadly at the little vampire in Edward’s arms.

Jasper nodded, “Edward’s already helping her, she feels more settled and I think she might actually get a restful sleep if he stays with her. But I think if we just continue to tell and show her around she’ll understand.”

Edward spoke, “I know she’s already starting to see Esme as her mom. She called her mom yesterday before we came back. I think she needs time, honestly we all did for the most part”

Jasper spoke up next, “Becoming a vampire is traumatic and that’s not even on top of all her human trauma which she remembers. I think she just got trigged hearing about someone else’s change, it could have been any of us telling her.”  

Rosalie nodded then spoke, “I think we should let her rest, she obviously needs it.” The siblings nodded and headed out of Bella’s room while Edward stayed humming to her.

--

Bella woke up groggy and confused; she hadn’t slept this well since she was a kid. She looked up to see Edward smiling down at her as the memory of before washed over here.

She hid her head in Edward’s chest as he pet her hair, “Love, what’s wrong?”

Bella looked up embarrassed, “I had a full breakdown in front of everyone.”

Edward shrugged, “We’ve all been there. I know Rosalie told you how angry she was. Once she threw my piano at me while we were fighting. So you screaming and crying is no big deal.”

“Okay” Bella spoke

Edward smiled down at her, “Do you want to get dressed?”

Bella nodded, “Can you help me?”

Edward immediately lost breathe; “Um-“

“Oh! No. I’m not ready for more than kissing, I just meant picking out an outfit.” Bella spoke

“You want me to pick out your clothes?”

Bella shrugged, “There’s too much in there. It makes me anxious. Usually Alice just picks it out for me.”

Edward nodded, “Okay well what do you want to be today?”

Bella thought for a moment, “Comfortable and cozy”

In a flash Edward had pulled out a blue boy friend style sweater and some leggings. “Can you wait here well I get changed?” Edward smiled and nodded before she was back in flash gripping her hand in his.

“Okay I’m ready”

--

Carlisle and Esme had returned while Bella was asleep and their hearts broke as their children told them about Bella’s breakdown.

She came down holding Edward’s hand, the sweater was big on her making her look like a small child. And Esme immediately wanted to take her in her arms, but Carlisle beat her to it giving the girl a hug.

“We’re so glad you’re here Bella.” Bella nodded softly and hugged him back whispering a thank you.

Bella stayed glued to Edward as they sat around the living room doing various activities. Jasper and Emmett were playing some complicated version of chess, Alice was doing some shopping for some things she thought would suit Bella’s room, Carlisle was reading a journal, and Edward was reading next to her. Rosalie was working on an electronic version of Bella’s trucks engine, she had explained to Bella that she loved working on cars and she had assured Bella that she wanted to fix it up for her. Esme was working on something in her lap with a needle and Bella found herself looking over with curiosity.

Esme noticed and smiled at her, coming over to sit on her other side. “It’s embroidery, would you like me to teach you?”

Bella nodded and smiled as Esme gently showed her the steps, she found herself really enjoying it but she was also flashed with a thought that her mother had never offered to show how to do one of her hobbies.

“That looks lovely Bella!” Esme praised her practice flower as Bella beamed and showed Edward who beamed at her and gave her head a kiss.

“Would you like to try it on a handkerchief?” Bella nodded eagerly as Esme mussed, “At one point I taught both Alice and Rose, but you seem to actually enjoy it. Though they both made Carlisle their fare share of handkerchiefs.”

Carlisle chucked, “They did. I still have all of them, they’re all wonderful.”

Alice and Rose rolled their eyes at him, and Bella found herself smiling and laughing as the sunset and she got to work on the piece of cloth Esme had handed her. Already planning in her head a design for a tablecloth her and Esme could work on together.

#on her own * #my writing #twilight fic #twilight

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

(Mis)Adventures of a Very Gay Explorer

My reward for the wonderful person who submitted a prompt for @aftgvotes.  Their prompt was:  anything with andriel post cannon and I mean like within the next couple weeks or like nicky and/or Matt's view on andriel post cannon.  I hope they -- and you -- enjoy this little bit of silly fluff!  Read on AO3 if you prefer.

Looking back, Nicky wondered how he had missed it.

Not just the fact that Andrew and Neil were together; all of it.  Jesus, he hadn’t even realized his own cousin was gay, which, talk about a complete and utter gaydar failure.  He definitely needed an upgrade on that, as he had told Erik, tangled in his arms during their precious few weeks together.  Erik had laughed and kissed his temple, and asked if it was available on the app store.  And damn, if that wasn’t an idea worth marketing…

But now that he was with them again, he could see it.  The little excuses Andrew made to touch Neil, that he had always made, even back when Neil was new and dark-eyed and dark-haired.  The way Neil always seemed aware of Andrew’s movements, even if he wasn’t obviously watching him.  They orbited around each other like twin stars, each with their own gravity, neither overwhelming the other.  

It was beautiful, even if Nicky didn’t totally understand.

He had never understood love without softness.  Quiet love, he got, no matter what everyone else thought.  His mother’s love had been quiet, though it had also been as fragile as spun sugar.  And with Erik, the moments of deepest connection were ones of murmurs, or no words at all.  That was how he had known, in the end, that it was real.  

But Neil and Andrew weren’t just quiet.  They would mock each other on the court and off it; they were hard pushes and heavy looks.  That sharp edge in Neil’s eyes never smoothed, the rigidity in Andrew’s shoulders never slackened.  The flickers of emotion that would race across Andrew’s face when Neil did something particularly amusing were notable for their intensity but impossible to decipher.

Nicky had a theory, though.  Well, more of a hypothesis.  He firmly believed that they were capable of softness; he needed to believe this, or he would be forever worried that they weren’t healthy for each other.  He just needed some evidence, evidence he was willing to risk life and limb to try to get.

He needed to catch them in their habitat, unawares.

Matt tried to dissuade him with the true-but-irrelevant logic that if they wanted anybody to know what they were up to, they’d be more public about it.  Aaron just shook his head and muttered, “Your funeral,” before turning back to his biology textbook.  Which, it was fucking summer but whatever.

Nicky felt like a researcher, looking to discover the secret mating rituals of the Wild Gays.  (He himself being most definitely a domesticated Gay, and more than contented to be such.)  He started small, watching them more closely when they walked their laps and noting when they were slow to finish up in the locker room.  Sadly, his opportunities to observe were largely restricted by the presence of the Newest Influx of Assholes, a.k.a. The Freshmen.  Neil was on-edge whenever they were around, and for that matter so was Nicky.  

So he changed tactics.  Now that he didn’t room with them his chances to observe them in the dorm were few and far between.  Kevin was a useful, if unwitting, accomplice some days, allowing Nicky to follow him in with only token protest.  Of course, this carried the painful price of Nicky having to watch exy games in their off-season, but whatever.

Unfortunately, it didn’t really help his cause.  Neil and Andrew were frequently absent, and if they were there they were generally silent and were rarely even near each other.  Neil would watch the games with Kevin, and Nicky would be left to observe Andrew impassively smoke or read.  A couple of times Andrew looked up and caught him staring, and Nicky swore to himself he would stop before he got stabbed.

One night Andrew declared, sparking his lighter, that the watching of a single more exy game would result in the suite being set on fire.  Kevin grumbled but didn’t push his luck, and they settled in to watch a movie instead.  Nicky waited for Andrew and Neil to get cozy under the cover of darkness, but though they sat next to each other there were no wandering hands or secret kisses.

It was time for a different approach.  Neil and Andrew had to be going somewhere when they both disappeared after practice, after all.  He checked the parking lot; the Maserati was still sitting there in its shiny glory, which meant they had to be somewhere in or around Fox Tower.  He tiptoed down to the basement; no sign of them.  The stairwells and halls were likewise empty.  It seemed unlikely that they would have walked to the library, and most of the other buildings were closed for the summer.  Which left…

He jogged up the stairs, thinking Wymack would be proud of him when he reached the top and wasn’t even out of breath.  Yes; the door was closed but the lock was obviously compromised.  He almost pushed through, but the Voice of Wisdom that lurked deep within his brain and sounded like Renee suggested he not push his luck that far.  He headed back down to the third floor.

Dan was in her room, with the door open and Allison and Matt lounging across the couches.  “Do I remember that you have binoculars?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dan said cautiously.

“Can I borrow them?”

She opened her mouth as if to ask why, then shook her head.  “I don’t want to know,” she said as she handed them over.  “Just don’t get murdered.”

“Dude,” Matt said, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Nicky grinned, taking the binoculars and heading back down the stairs.

There was a little collection of trees conveniently located near one of the footpaths behind the Tower.  Nicky strolled along the path as nonchalantly as he could manage, unsure if someone—two suspicious someones, in fact—was watching him.  When he got to the copse, he slipped into it and found a nice hiding spot from which to train the binoculars on the roof.

They were up there.  He felt the jolt of adrenaline that must be familiar to safari goers and researchers.  Eureka!  He did a tiny dance of celebration then refocused through the binoculars.  

The assholes were just...sitting there.  Close, but not touching.  Both with cigarettes in hand, though only Andrew seemed to be actually smoking.  He couldn’t tell if they were even talking.  After about fifteen minutes, he was hot and sticky and needed a lemonade, so he headed down to the little campus cafe with the super-cute barista.  Andrew and Neil were nowhere to be found when he made his way back a while later.

He checked back the next day, and the next.  It was always the same. Sometimes Andrew stole Neil’s cigarette, and he always lit one for each of them, which was sweet, Nicky supposed, in a cancer-inducing way.  But that could have just been efficiency.  

After three weeks, the only thing Nicky had learned were some of the tendencies of strikers they’d be facing in the fall.  Which seriously seemed like a waste of valuable mental resources when there were still weeks to go before the season started.  He could definitively state that Andrew and Neil seemed content, at the least, with how things were between them, but he had already known that.  

Content wasn’t enough.  Late at night he would lie in bed and think about it.  About what he knew now about the horrors of Andrew’s childhood, and Neil’s too.  And he wondered if maybe...maybe they thought this was all they deserved.  All they were capable of.  Attraction and strong emotion, never tempered by any actual affection.  

“Leave it alone,” Aaron snapped at him, when Nicky brought it up again.  

“But—”

“No.  Just stop.”  He punctuated his words by leaving the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.  Nicky stared after him; he didn’t think he would ever understand his cousins.  How someone could care so painfully much and yet be so averse to any demonstration.

Which...maybe that was true with Andrew and Neil, too.  Maybe it wasn’t up to him to decide if their relationship worked.  Or how, since at least for now it clearly did.  Maybe this was just a step they both needed to take, to learn how to be physical with someone just as broken as they were and then they would move on.  And maybe that was okay.

A few days after he had given up on his research project, he got back to Fox Tower and realized he had forgotten his phone at the stadium.  Matt offered to drive him back to get it, but for once it wasn’t too humid to breathe and he decided to enjoy the brief reprieve of fresh air.  Erik would be proud of him, he decided.  Besides, the walk took him past the cafe and that barista was probably working…

The lights in the stadium were on, which was weird.  Wymack’s office was empty; he must have forgot to shut them off on his way out.  Dropping his empty cup in the trash, he slipped in through the cracked door of the lounge; his phone was probably at his locker, but he might have left it at his chair.  

The faintest murmur hit his ear and he froze.  In the dim light, he caught a flash of blond hair.  For a second he thought he had caught Aaron and Katelyn, but she was gone for the summer.  The quiet laugh that followed was decidedly too deep to belong to a woman.  Holding his breath, he rose up on his toes to try to see over the back of the couch.

Andrew was sitting with Neil’s head in his lap, carding his fingers through his hair.  Neil’s eyes were closed, and he was smiling with a gentleness Nicky had never seen on his face.  Nicky couldn’t see Andrew’s face, but there was something different about his posture.  He wasn’t soft, exactly; just...peaceful.  A sharp edge smoothed in a way Nicky had never thought was possible.

His phone could wait.  This was a moment too private even for an intrepid researcher to intrude upon.  But his hypothesis now had evidence to support it, and he would sleep the sleep of the righteous that night.

By some miracle he managed to escape without either of them noticing.  He made his way back to Fox Tower with that image firmly in his mind, and he was pretty sure he was grinning like a fool by the time he closed his dorm room door behind him.

Aaron was there, staring at his phone with a lovesick expression of his own.  He glanced up at Nicky, then looked at him again.  “What’s with you?”

“Nothing,” Nicky said, and laughed.  “It’s just...it’s all good.”

Aaron stared at him for a minute.  “I told you you didn’t need to worry about them.”

Nicky rolled his eyes as he flopped onto the couch next to him.  “You told me to leave it alone.”

“Whatever.  Neil might be an asshole, but Andrew’s Andrew.”

Aaron didn’t elaborate, but Nicky thought he knew what he meant.  He picked through the contents of the fridge looking for something to eat and thought again about what he knew.  Andrew and Neil might never have known kindness, true; they had never known anything that Nicky would define as love.  But maybe that didn’t matter.  Maybe love, maybe it didn’t get passed down through generations, like some heirloom bowl or blue eyes.  Maybe it was something that could be discovered, deep in the inner recesses of a soul, even after it had been buried under a lifetime of anger and fear and hatred, if only you had a reason to go looking for it.

And maybe that was the most beautiful thing Nicky could imagine.

#aftg #all for the game #aftgvotes #nicky hemmick #andrew minyard #neil josten #discovering love #understanding family #tfc #the foxhole court #aaron minyard #matt boyd #erik klose #dan wilds #humor #fluff #my writing

[srrrokka]

WIP game - the word is “run”

[Give me a word and I’ll Quote it from my Fic WIPs!]

Please note that my WIPs are mostly a mess of notes, half written scenes, dialogue snippets, and so on, therefore this might look a wee bit weird.

 Marked by Many

He’s out of breath after the desperate run, he looks at the man in shock and tears his own mask off. “You’re Void touched,” he only manages.

________________________

 Amnesia AU

1) 

A man basically runs into Daud in a door of a building, he has a mask on and is panting. He curses under his breath, grabs Daud by the front of his coat, spins him around away from the door, and slams him against the wall. Daud is about to fight back when an explosion that has them both flinching throws an angry ball of fire through the entry to the building. The building Daud was meant to be inside of…

2)

Corvo: Aha, sure. Do you show this interest to every person you meet on the street? Listen, if you want something from me, say it and stop running circles. But, as far as I see it, I saved your skin and then you saved mine so we are done here. [The look he sends Daud is not quite a glare but definitely a warning]

________________________

 Offering of the Knife

D: Attano, you need a break.

C: I don’t remember asking for your opinion.

D: Call it a justified intervention.

C: [increasingly angry] I don’t need an intervention, I need to have this done.

D: [also increasingly angry] And you’re going to help no one by running yourself into the dirt.

C: [Inhales sharply to continue arguing but stops himself because he realises what he’s doing] You’re pissing me off because you’re right and I don’t want you to be.

D: [that reply throws him off incredibly]

C: Listen, I am expected to have it all resolved by yesterday. And unfortunately not only by my own volition. The entire court is stepping on my heels because I fucked up a second time in a very short time plus I am basically running this country right now, which doesn’t make them happy. They never liked me but recently they are having more and more reasons not to.

________________________

 Save Game

“Em…” Corvo’s voice is gentle but full of sadness. There it goes. The cat is out of the bag now. All of them. Emily runs up to him and hugs him as she cries into his shirt. He wishes he could hug her back but his arms are bound behind his back. “Shhhhh, Em… It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”

________________________

 Apocalypse AU

1)

Daud could feel the hot breath of the creature run down his neck and then something else joining it… Something uncomfortably warm and slick made a broad, wet stripe on his skin.

2)

[18/04, 21:21] VeeChaos: Daud calls out to Corvo, thinking he might be returning to his senses but Thomas is like “No, he’s not there, Daud.” And then after a cinematic pause… “Run!” And Corvo attacks them :3c

3)

Corvo’s body got a little confused because, due to how Void affected it, it’s basically running on empty. He doesn’t experience the hunger because of the music but also still can’t eat normal food.

________________________

 Soulmate AU

1)

His body jerked back up and into running faster than he could think of commanding it to. He just wanted to be home. Was it so much to ask? He wanted to hide and disappear. He wanted his mum to tell him it’s going to be alright. He wanted to hug her. He wanted this day to end…

2)

“I’ve spent 6 months in this chair. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy and, let’s face it, you’re not really anywhere close. So. Either you take my offer, and we can both leave this miserable hole, or you’re going to have a nice, long stay in your own cozy cell until I come up with something more agreeable.” Corvo’s eyes skip to the left, just above his shoulder, and for a beat blackness overtakes them again, just to return to his face with new intensity. “Time’s running out, Knife.”

________________________

 Scratch Session (work tile for Homestuckers)

1)

Corvo kills Jessamine and then remembers. Instead of running he stays, paralysed by shock and grief. Daud watches Jessamine die in his arms and then grabs Corvo by the front of his coat and just punches him in the face. Corvo doesn’t defend himself at all, Daud takes out a knife from his belt ready to stab the bastard through the heart where he stands. Daud pauses when he notices that the assassin is… crying.

And then Daud remembers.

They stand there for a moment taking in what just happened in the context of who they actually are until there are footsteps running up the stairs leading to the gazebo and Daud has half a mind to transverse them away from there before they both get arrested.

2)

Something Daud did not expect was an actual fight. The Whaler holding Oz runs out of Pull and so the Lord Protector joins the fight but is stormed by Whalers so Corvo is still on his own against Daud without any weapons. He is half blind because of the blood pouring into his eye and he pleads with Daud to stop.

________________________

 Soulmate AU: the fluffy edition

Jess finds out how good Paloma is with kids and she has this passing thought of ah so it runs in the family.

________________________

 TRC/DH1

Either way the Empress died because Pull still works on Corvo, but instead of being hurt after falling Corvo just gets up and continues fighting until Daud runs a sword through him and… nothing happens. Corvo looks Daud dead in the eye and the assassin takes a step back. his sword doesn’t have even a trace of blood on it.

________________________

 Blind AU

1)

Corvo woke up with a start in his small cot in the Flooded District. Cold sweat running down his back, his entire frame shaking like a leaf. He clasped a hand over his mouth as an anguished scream formed at the back of his throat. He curled up on himself, the other arm wrapping tightly around his chest where the shard pierced him. His head was swimming. He felt sick.

2)

Corvo: It’s not perfect but it has to do. That’s all I have left. The thing with the Dark Vision is that it gives me shapes, it doesn’t give me details. I don’t know how yours works but… [he picks up one of the papers from the table] I see a page, the outline of it really, but not what’s on it. [he turns to the Whaler] I can see the outline of your face, your mouth, your eyes, but Thomas, I don’t actually know what you look like. I can’t tell the colour of your hair or eyes, I can’t see if you have scars, I can’t tell if you’re tired… I- [the dark vision runs out] as I said, it’s not bad, but it’s far, far from great…

#dominatenebrae #replies #ask meme #yo stuff

[storytaeme]

slip ‘n’ slide – taegi

The last thing Yoongi expected to find in a secluded mountain was an adorable ice skating instructor with the most gorgeous ass. 

taegi week 2017 – taehyung x yoongi ft. jihope

❅ Prompt: Ice Skating

❅ Elements: Fluff, Smut  |  Ski Lodge AU    ↪ smut includes fingering, spanking, slight size kink

❅ Word Count: 7,580 words

❅ A/N: A poor excuse of a pwp!!! I just wanted to write smut for Taehyung and Yoongi heheh also did not proofread yet so I apologize for mistakes!

Min Yoongi was a talented, versatile man. He was skilled in a lot of things—rapping, music production, ensuring that Kim Namjoon stayed alive despite his clumsy two left feet and wildly long limbs, and sleeping for a good ten hours straight on satisfying nights. However, what he was far from qualified in was ice skating. And that was the last thing he wanted to do just a few sprinkle of days away from Christmas.

After pulling him out of the hellhole that was his finals, Namjoon had hauled Yoongi into his car and made their way up to the mountains where he planned an “all boys weekend” which basically implied a lot of booze, a lot of Namjoon flailing around, Hoseok picking up every walking thing with two legs in sight, and Yoongi struggling to keep his sanity intact. That, and a lot of karaoke sessions that Hoseok would drunkenly start in their cozy little lodge suite. They had splurged a little extra in honor of Yoongi’s early finish of his thesis and that meant a snazzy space with three bedrooms for all of them—which was probably for the best because, the first night, Hoseok was already thumping against Namjoon’s walls.

“This always happens,” Yoongi spoke over his coffee, humming as he inhaled the aroma of the bitter brew. His fingers were numb but they were quickly getting their senses back with the warmth radiating from his mug.

Namjoon groaned, fingers tangling frustratedly in his mussed up hair. They hadn’t even reached the weekend and Yoongi could already see the telltale signs of shadows under his eyes. He wanted to spew out an I told you so but it didn’t seem like the right time—not when Namjoon looked about ready to throttle Hoseok who was having his second round with whoever he had plucked from the club last night. “I know, I know,” he moaned, “it’s just so miserable. I wanted it to make a good weekend out for all three of us but he’s not being a team player. And neither are you, you bailed on the club last night.”

“I had to email my professor,” Yoongi smirked.

“Liar,” Namjoon snarled right back, jabbing an accusing finger his friend’s way, “I know Professor Han is already out for break and, when that’s the case, he never replies to his emails. Plus, you submitted your damn thesis a week ago, you’re basically free. A free bird. Caw caw, motherfucker.”

The elder snorted, swallowing the burn of the coffee with a wince. “It was to make sure that he received it. And you know that cramped places like those are not my forte. I was going to end up babysitting the two of you.”

“That’s the point,” he pouted sulkily.

“Nice try,” he scoffed, “I’m not playing into this game again. This was why I refused to come in the first place.”

“You signed a contract by blood.”

Yoongi squinted at him, “You literally scribbled an agreement, pricked my finger and forced me to stamp my thumb on that piece of toilet paper. We were both drunk, I’m surprised you didn’t cut my finger off.”

“By blood,” Namjoon pressed, palms flattened on the pretty marble countertop. They really did invest a good amount to get them a nice accommodation for the weekend. “But there’s this huge party that the lodge is holding tonight, cheap booze,” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows excitedly, “you should definitely come.”

“I’ll think about it,” he grunted. He honestly had no intentions on sticking around for long even if he did show up. His thesis had drained the last of drop of energy he had in him, and he was surprised that Namjoon and Hoseok stuck around considering the amount of social contact he had to cut off to finish his work by the deadline.

“We are going ice skating today though, so that’ll be fun.”

Yoongi’s face showed otherwise. His expression had twisted bitterly as he gaped at his friend in utter incredulity. “You want me to go ice skating?”

“Yes, it’ll be good bonding time.”

“None of us know how to do it,” Yoongi reasoned.

Namjoon gave a shrug. “They have instructors around to help. Plus, if we go down, we go down together.”

“Fuck you.”

Hoseok came stumbling into the kitchen minutes later, hair sticking up in all sorts of angles and a blinding grin on his face. His neck was littered with purpling bruises that bloomed almost grotesquely. “Good morning, sunshines.”

Yoongi wanted to ask why this guy had light sprouting out of his butt at ass o’clock after he had his brains screwed out of his head. Then again it was Hoseok. The only times Yoongi had seen him in any other mood, he had steered clear. He wasn’t the nicest person when he was a little moody. Second later, another figure appeared in the doorway, looking as disheveled as Hoseok but twice the intensity of being mauled over. “Uh, hey everyone,” the man coughed awkwardly with all the eyes on him and his half-naked figure. “I sort of lost my shirt.”

They all could see that. The guy was good looking, had toned abs and all, tiny—probably Yoongi’s height—and cute as fuck, Hoseok’s and everyone’s type. There was a sweetness to his face that had all of them quietly admiring him. Hoseok had definitely gotten lucky.

“You can walk around without it, babe,” Hoseok beamed. The guy blushed, but fidgeted. “Grab one of my jackets, I’ll probably see you later anyway.”

“Coming to the rink?” the guy perked up, looking surprised. So were the rest of them. Their friend never really did ever come back for seconds, so if he had plans to even hang out with the guy, that said a lot.

Hoseok nodded, still grinning his post-sex afterglow. “Yeah, we’re all going there. So see you then?”

The guy pinked again but nodded shyly, “Okay, I’ll see you all later.” He disappeared back down the hall, then out the door, all of them waiting to hear that soft click.

Namjoon hopped on it first, “Damn. He was cute as fuck.”

“Tell me about it.” Hoseok’s eyebrows jumped enthusiastically. “You should hear his moans too, even cuter.”

“And you’re going back for him?” Yoongi questioned curiously, “That’s a first.”

Hoseok sparkled, his entire face lit up brilliantly like fireworks had burst before him. “He’s really good too, nice ass. Fuck, such a nice ass.” He looked up to the ceiling as if thanking the heavens for gracing him for that Grade A booty. “God, I can’t wait to slide my dick—”

“Anyway,” Yoongi interrupted, shoving a piece of toast into Hoseok’s mouth before he could further detail the process of coitus that Yoongi was familiar with and certainly did not need to hear coming from his friend’s mouth.

“I’m going to get ready, get myself all dolled up,” Namjoon fluttered his eyelashes teasingly, smiling. “I heard the instructors are gorgeous. I wouldn’t mind snatching one of them up for tonight.”

“Like your no-game ass is ever going to nail one of them,” Yoongi snorted. Hoseok high-fived him with a laugh. The two of them knew what always happened whenever Namjoon tried to pull off the smooth and suave. No matter how many times they’ve told him that his charms lied in his intelligence and awkwardness, Namjoon tried to work the “cool” look and always ended up embarrassing himself with double the humiliation.

The youngest of them narrowed his eyes, “Don’t test me. I’m going to be so riled up to get good ass if you put it that way.”

“Alright, honey,” Yoongi smiled sweetly, patting Namjoon’s cheek patronizingly, “go get dressed up so we can get you that ass you need, yeah?”

“Fuck you.”

—

The thing about being up in the mountains, far away from civilization and trapped in the only building that existed with only snow and hills surrounding it, was that there was no escape whatsoever. Yoongi had learned his lesson that having no exit door was never a good sign, but he supposed that—just this time—he could make it work.

Namjoon had bounced all the way down to the outdoor area where all the kids were playing. It seemed a little strange, Yoongi supposed, to see three grown men fumbling around with their laces as they attempted to balance themselves on the blade of their shoes. While Yoongi and Hoseok managed to keep their composure, Namjoon was hanging onto every possible surface for dear life with shaky knees. They had laughed about it for a little while, the two of them tittering about how ridiculous their friend looked. However, they really did speak too soon when they actually arrived on the ice.

The ground was slippery, had Yoongi clinging onto the barriers with his gloved hands to avoid falling flat on his face and gluing his skin to the freezing cold ice. Hoseok was slowly making his way around the rink, going ahead of Yoongi and laughing, only to stop when he lost his balance, then proceeded to cackle at him again. However, the dark horse of this entire story was probably Namjoon. The man was a fucking whiz on the ice.

Yoongi should’ve known better that karma always played fairly and that the two of them would get what was coming for them when they had snickered over Namjoon’s misery. Now, the youngest of them was gliding, slip and sliding all over the ice easily. Gone was the baby fawn and came in the massive buck who conquered the task. Well, that’s something to expect from a genius who managed to nail everything that needed skills and practice—except life, Namjoon was still working on life.

“Hey, hyung,” Namjoon called out and Yoongi could already feel the irritation bubbling in his veins as he turned slowly to face the other man. Namjoon was wiggling his ass stupidly while his feet maneuvered smoothly upon the cold surface. His glide was almost impeccable and Yoongi could’ve sworn he saw the guy do a figure eight at some point.

“Shut the fuck up, Namjoon,” Yoongi growled, fingers gripping the walls of the rink for dear life. Namjoon howled in laughter before skating away, hands behind his back. Smooth motherfucker. If only he had that kind of gracefulness in every other occasion too, maybe Yoongi would stop having a billion heart attacks whenever he handled pans in the kitchen.

Hoseok popped up behind him, purposely giving him a hard pat on the back then laughing when Yoongi jolted forward with a yelp. “The more you stick to the sides, the scarier it gets you know. You just have to embrace the feel.”

The only thing Yoongi would be embracing if he let go was the searing pain of his body doing an entire dive onto the ice, and the embarrassment of tumbling in front of dozens of other kids who had no problem working their own skates. It really was humiliating to be upstaged by ten-year-olds who kept pointing their fingers at him and muffling their laughter.

“Hey, Hoseok, here’s an idea. Fuck off,” Yoongi scowled bitterly. Hoseok only snorted again, poking at his friend. The incessant action had him wiggling around to avoid it, had him sticking his hand hard into Hoseok’s side to get him away.

“Hyung!” This time, it was another voice. It was the kid from earlier, the one who had gotten his ass wrecked by Hoseok.

“Jiminie!” Hoseok squealed, pouncing on the boy almost immediately. The guy looks brighter now, cleaner. It was sort of weird seeing the two of them side by side. It was as if there were two suns competing to shine brighter than the other. The Jimin guy giggled.

He wasn’t stripped half-naked this time (unfortunately) and was decked out in a navy and maroon puffy jacket zipped up with a logo of the lodge. “Are you an instructor here?” Yoongi queried with a curious raise of his brow.

“Yeah!” Jimin beamed, nearly blinding Yoongi with all the brightness he was radiating. “I’m a student studying sports therapy but I’ve been skating my entire life, been working here every break since I started.” That explained the entire chocolate abs thing he had going on.

“Mhm,” Hoseok cooed, pinching his cheek, “but Jiminie’s mine for today.” Jimin flushed at that, scarlet creeping up his neck and reaching the tips of his ears.

“Do you need some help, hyung?” Jimin asked warily, concern dripping in his voice. Wow, cute and sweet. Why didn’t Yoongi have this kind of luck?

Hoseok crinkled his nose and tightened his hold around Jimin’s arm. “Don’t worry about him. He said he was perfectly fine.”

Jimin’s gaze fell to Yoongi’s wobbling legs. He looked like a newborn foal trying to get a steady grip on life. “Are you sure—”

“He’s fine,” Hoseok insisted.

“I can get my friend, give me a second.” God bless this boy. God fucking bless this angel of a human being. Hoseok could go suck his dick and choke on it. Jimin’s that was. Yoongi wasn’t letting his friend anywhere near his dick. “Tae! Hey, over here!” He was waving down one of the guys wandering around the rink in the same uniform.

Yoongi squinted at the faraway figure. He looked tall but he did seem to have the skills to move around the ice, as he should as an instructor. When he arrived, he should’ve known that a beautiful person like Jimin would have beautiful friends too. Yoongi just didn’t expect his smile to have double the butterfly effect in his stomach. He’s never felt his guts flip this way, it was almost unnerving.

“This is my friend, Taehyung,” Jimin introduced with a huge smile, “he’s one of our best here so he can take care of you, uh…”

“Yoongi,” he cleared his throat, sticking out his hand and realized too late that it was a mistake because he lost his balance and almost slipped to land on his ass. However, his white knight had swooped in and caught him right before he—

“Whoa there, be careful.”

Yoongi was going to nut.

The man’s voice was rich and velvety. There was a baritone ring to it that would’ve sounded wonderful if he crooned something as cozy as jazz. It certainly didn’t match up to his expectations. His voice had something strange brewing inside his stomach.

“Yoongi, you good, man?” Hoseok peered at him curiously as if asking him where in the world he just went to.

It was then he realized he was still clutching onto Taehyung for dear life. The realization had him jerking away in embarrassment, hands flying to grab hold onto the railings instead.

His friend grinned stupidly at him. “Well, now I know that you’re in good hands—” something told Yoongi that Hoseok knew that he was very much affected by the stranger next to him “—I’ll leave you both to it. Come on, Jiminie, show me the ropes.” The pair skated away, Jimin’s smaller stature guiding Hoseok.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was still wobbling around on the side. Taehyung breezed closer to him, proximity unnerving. “Need a hand?” he grinned, lips squaring up to reveal a perfect set of teeth. He was cute. Too cute. Yoongi didn’t handle cute well. Or any other form of attractive in fact.

“I’m—” Okay should’ve been the next word, but it turned out that he was most definitely not okay. “Yeah, sort of.”

Taehyung chuckled and even that sound reverberated something warm through him, a tingling left on his skin that had his hairs rising. It was sort of terrifying how this man’s voice alone did wonders to Yoongi when he had barely spoken two words. The tall boy held out his hand, gleaming smile still glittering on his face. Yoongi took it cautiously, more for the sake of his safety rather than the beating of his heart.

Slowly, he eased Yoongi away from the sidelines and towards the actual ice where the action was packed. It was frightening to say the least. However, Taehyung was patient and guided him gently and instructing him how to move his feet. This was good, this was actually okay. Yoongi could get the hang of this. Minutes ago, he was this close to throwing Namjoon off a hill, but this wasn’t so bad once he got used to it.

“You’re a natural,” Taehyung brightened.

“I bet you get paid to say that to all the guests,” Yoongi chuckled nervously.

Taehyung shook his head and flashed another grin, “Only the cute ones, cross my heart.”

Yoongi didn’t handle flirts well either. And Taehyung was a cute flirt. “Well, I’m touched,” he chose to say instead.

“Boys weekend?”

He nodded in confirmation, “Got sort of dragged out here by those two. The cold isn’t really my thing, I’m barely alive with how freezing Seoul is most of the time.”

“I feel you,” Taehyung huffed a laugh, puffs of white forming before his lips, “It doesn’t snow much in Daegu so coming up here every break was like a miserable slap in the face from Jack Frost.”

“You’re from Daegu?” Yoongi’s eyebrows jumped.

“Yeah! Are you too?” Taehyung was practically brimming with excitement and Yoongi was thankful he had the right answer, otherwise he would’ve disappointed the poor boy.

Yoongi grinned, “Yeah, born and raised. Only moved to Seoul for college.”

The two ended up chatting amicably about shared memories and places from back in their hometown. Despite loving Seoul to its fullest, they couldn’t help but have a mutual understanding of homesickness after having been away in the city for so long. Taehyung told him about his grandfather’s strawberry farm, how he used to spend nearly the entirety of his childhood there, and Yoongi with his parents and brothers who hadn’t been the most supportive of his initial endeavor for his future.

“But I’m glad they approve of it now,” Taehyung hummed, “it’s good to have some backbone. Anyway, even if you didn’t, you’d still be doing something you’re passionate about and, despite what people say, I think that’s enough to keep you going in life.”

“That’s a good mindset to have,” Yoongi murmured thoughtfully.

They hadn’t realized how much time had passed until Jimin was approaching them, Hoseok in tow. Their hairs looked mussed up and Yoongi wasn’t sure whether it was due to the whipping wind or if they had snuck away to make out somewhere. “Tae, it’s time for a shift change,” Jimin grinned, looping his arm through his friend’s. “How was your session?”

“Was good, we talked a lot,” Taehyung giggled, “hyung here is from Daegu too. It was really nice to meet you. I’ll see you at the party tonight?”

Well, Yoongi hadn’t planned on going. It looked like a trainwreck waiting to happen. Hoseok’s elbow dug into the elder’s side, eliciting a yelp out of him. “We’ll be there,” he grinned for the two of them.

“Great,” Taehyung beamed, though his gaze focused solely on Yoongi. If Yoongi didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn the boy’s smile was a little shy, tinged with a hint of hopefulness. “See you both then.”

It wasn’t until the pair skated away and Hoseok was pounding on the questions that he realized that Taehyung had kept a hand a hand around his waist the entire time.

Yoongi was going to nut.

—

The party turned out to be a bore after all. The only people participating in the actual games were senior citizens who looked like they could barely make their way to the slopes. Hoseok and Namjoon, safe to say, were disappointed. They deflated faster than a popped balloon when they saw the thrilling crowd to entertain. “Fuck it,” Hoseok growled, “if I can’t get my party on then I’m at least going to get trashed.”

However, his plans were foiled when Jimin curled behind him, arms wrapping around his lean waist. Yoongi had never seen the boy melt so fast. It looked as if his entire body just molded back against the younger boy. “Rushing off so soon?” Jimin asked, blinking his eyes adorably at Hoseok.

The man was fucking whipped, they all could practically hear the figurative whip landing across his ass. Hoseok basically bloomed as he turned around and wrapped himself around Jimin, lips seeking the other’s. Well, that was it. One man down, two more to go. Namjoon muttered a “the fuck” under his breath before waving it off and striding away in search of his own vice—namely, alcohol.

Yoongi eyed Taehyung whose eyes were darting between him and the shameless couple whose hands had begun to roam. “Uh, wanna get a drink or something?” Yoongi suggested, clearing his throat.

Taehyung grinned, “On the job, can’t. But I can watch over you drink, make sure you get back okay.”

As the two made their way to the bar, walking past a few elderly couples who greeted Taehyung fondly, Yoongi wondered if this man was just a people whisperer. He seemed to be very good at the whole wooing everyone to liking him business. “You’re still on the job? I thought you were just the skating instructor.”

“I am, but I volunteered to help out with the party a little, make sure it doesn’t get too crazy you know.”

Yoongi glanced briefly to the mellow crowd, smirking, “Yeah, I bet it’s going to get wild tonight.” Taehyung elbowed him with a low chuckle.

They ended up sitting by the bar where Namjoon joined them. Taehyung was friendly still, bringing up conversation topics with Namjoon to keep the elder talking and the awkward silence nonexistent. When prompted, Yoongi knew his friend could keep going on and on all night about whatever topics he came up with. Namjoon and Taehyung found mutual ground on alien, extraterrestrial theories. Yoongi found mutual ground with his gin and tonic (laugh at him all you want but at least he’s got a sweet drink and a good time).

“Well, it has been lovely talking to you, Taehyung,” Namjoon genuinely said and added a theatrical bow. “Alas, I must now find a young maiden or lad to warm my sheets. Farewell, friends.”

“Don’t mind him,” Yoongi rolled his eyes as a response to Taehyung’s quizzical look. “He starts pushing Shakespeare when he’s a little tipsy. Let him be.”

Taehyung laughed, nodding in understanding, before propping his arms up on the countertop. He leaned closer towards Yoongi who had his fingers circling his glass. “What about you?” Taehyung started, “What are you like when you’re tipsy?”

His eyes were dancing with mirth that had flashbacks coursing through his mind. Tipsy Yoongi wasn’t the best Yoongi. Most of the time, it involved a lot of bad rapping and rhymes (that would grate on Namjoon’s nerves most), and other times he tended to spill everything in his mind, a word vomit of sorts. “I’m chill,” he instead said.

The other boy clearly wasn’t buying it, giggling as he inched closer, going as far as tapping Yoongi’s nose. ���I don’t believe that. I feel like you’ll start saying things you don’t intend to get out of your head. All your dirty secrets.”

Well, that hit the nail right on the head. “Maybe,” Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly.

Taehyung snickered again, bringing his hand up and sliding it across Yoongi’s broad shoulder. He crinkled his nose cutely and grinned, “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind then, big boy?”

Big boy. Yoongi choked on his drink, the burn creeping up his throat. “I–uh—not sure what you mean.”

“Mhmm,” Taehyung hummed, “come on. You can tell me. I’ve been wondering what your sincere thoughts of me are.”

“We just met,” Yoongi swallowed. Yes, they literally just met hours ago. That was it. But Taehyung still made him jittery, made him feel like he was fifteen again with a crush on the kid who smiled as brilliantly as Taehyung did and offered the sweetest words to console Yoongi and his dreams at the time. It made him feel like the sun was shining a little warmer, the night a little nicer, and the atmosphere a little more magical.

The gin was really messing with his head. He was starting to make himself believe in love at first sight and all that fictitious whatnot.

“Yeah, but what do you think of me? What’s the verdict, boss?” Taehyung smiled, something in his eyes indicating a sign of something dancing in his mind. The elder wasn’t sure what to make of it. “How about I go first?”

“Alright,” Yoongi replied, shifting on his stool.

“I think you’re hot,” Taehyung confessed simply. The brevity of his words had Yoongi pausing to think. That was… good right? An attractive man found him attractive. “I really want you to fuck me.”

Holy shit. His drink dribbled from his lips when he unconsciously parted his lips in surprise. He quickly reached for a napkin to wipe it all up, cheeks flushing a deep red and it wasn’t from the alcohol. Taehyung didn’t look fazed in the least—he probably had people spilling drinks out of their mouths all the time.

“That’s, uh, rather bold,” Yoongi said stupidly. What he meant to sungay was that was a fucking swell idea and his room’s door was open 24/7 for him.

Taehyung rolled his shoulders. “You’re here for the weekend, we don’t exactly have excess time to spend, hyung. I’d rather cut it straight to the chase instead of beating around the bush with neither of us ending up satisfied. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I, um, I guess so,” Yoongi said. He was feeling less and less intellectual by the second in that moment.

“So,” Taehyung licked his lips, dark gaze lifting to meet Yoongi’s stunned ones, “how about it? I end in like an hour. Feel up to it?”

Yoongi could only gulp and nod, “Y-yeah, sounds great. I can work with that.”

“Perfect.” Taehyung’s hand appeared on his knee. Why was his hand on his knee? It was going to make his boner even more evident before the boy who had propositioned him. Very smoothly, might he add. “I have to do my rounds for the night, but I’ll meet you after?”

“Yeah, after works.”

At this point, all Yoongi could do was agree to everything Taehyung was saying.

Taehyung hummed with a devilish twinklier his eye, “Great. Your room then?” Nod. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” Nod. “Uh—” Nod. “Hyung, you’re kind of scaring me.”

Yoongi was about to nod again but pulled himself out of the stupor. “No, yeah, I mean we’re good. My room’s good. Perfect. You’re perfect. Your face is just really distracting, your lips too. Just… so pretty.”

A laugh bubbled up the younger boy’s throat as he nodded, tilting his body forward to place a soft kiss on Yoongi’s cheek. “You can get more acquainted with my lips later, hyungie.”

God, yes.

—

Preparing to get acquainted with Taehyung’s body meant spending nearly half an hour pacing the length of his room. He had probably traced the circumference of every inch of his room five times over with his feet in the last few minutes. Yoongi had escaped the humdrum party soon after Taehyung left to hop onto his duties, but gave Taehyung his room number to visit later.

Taehyung had drifted away with a promise to come by.

Yoongi hadn’t stopped sweating since.

When the doorbell rang, he had bounded over to the entrance hall, briefly glancing at the hallway mirror to fix up his hair, before reaching for the knob. He had never been this nervous before a hookup, ever. Maybe it was due to the fact that Taehyung was possibly the most beautiful human being he had ever seen.

Conjuring up the image of the man in his mind, Yoongi could see the smooth slope of his nose and the single mole printed on his skin. Then there was the way his eyes crinkled whenever he smiled, lips stretching to reveal a set of teeth that sparkled in the daylight. His jawline wasn’t sharp, but was defined enough to leave Yoongi with the urge to run his lips along it.

“Hey,” he coughed when he swung open the door to find Taehyung standing with one hand on the frame, his body leaning in.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Fuck. Him.

“Not gonna invite me in?” Taehyung questioned teasingly when the two of them had been in a strange standstill.

“Right, come in.”

One thing led to another—read: the second Taehyung stepped into the room, Yoongi clicking the door shut behind him, Taehyung had him pinned up against the wall. His lips moved almost on instinct to cover Yoongi’s. The elder had been taken aback at first, lips parting in surprise and Taehyung took that opportunity to slip his tongue in. Yoongi had never been big on kisses, never liked people sticking their tongues down his throat.

However, the way Taehyung was twisting his tongue against Yoongi’s, the way he was stroking the insides of his cheeks and how his large hands smoothed down Yoongi’s shoulders had him shaking against the boy. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, hyung,” Taehyung whined quietly as he nosed the elder’s cheek before moving down to paste wet kisses on his neck. His teeth grazed the skin  and brought blood rushing to the surface in a littering of marks.

“W-wait, let’s take this to my room, I don’t need my friends barging in on us,” Yoongi stuttered, fingers clutching Taehyung’s jacket. This was more for support than anything. If he had felt vulnerable on the ice, he was downright helpless in that moment. Taehyung nodded and began walking.

He only looked back when he realized that Yoongi wasn’t following him. “Hyung, you good?”

“Uh, yeah, just trying to feel my legs again,” Yoongi chuckled weakly. He was but a weak man.

Taehyung laughed and returned to his side, grabbing hold of his skinny arms and practically dragging him into the room. The elder landed on the bed with a soft thump and, before he could even take a breath, Taehyung was already on top of him, stealing it from out of his lungs. Their lips latched together, molding into one as Taehyung’s hands wasted no time in working on the buttons of his shirt. “Christ, you’ve got the prettiest skin,” he muttered under his breath, stopping his movements to stare at the paleness of Yoongi’s skin.

It was milky and clean, free of blemishes, but that was a fact soon to be changed when Taehyung dived in for the kill. His teeth were merciless as they nipped on the sensitive parts of him, planting bruises and marks to mark him as his. Yoongi could feel his veins buzzing with life, every inch of him lighting up in flames with Taehyung’s scorching touch upon his skin.

“How do you want me, hyungie?” Taehyung panted as he pulled away, shrugging off his coat and shirt over his head. Yoongi allowed his glance to travel from the expanse of smooth, golden skin. The boy was beautifully breathtaking, like a god descended from the fair heavens. He swallowed as he looked at the delicious contrast between his wild, seductive eyes and the softness of his pudgy stomach.

Yoongi licked his lips as Taehyung pulled his pants off, his hand circling his cock. God, he was long. Cock so pretty and dripping all wet for him. “Want you on your knees, want to see you opening yourself up for me. Can you do that?” The question came as an additional stammer. He didn’t want to sound too demanding.

However, judging by how Taehyung’s eyes had flashed and the slow curl of his lips, the younger didn’t mind it all that much. Instead he grabbed a bottle from his jacket pocket and flipped the cap open, drizzling a good amount onto his fingers and rubbing it in between his digits. “Yeah? You wanna see me fuck myself open?”

“Mm, yeah,” Yoongi nodded, breathing in sharply just as the boy leaned down, pressing his face to the sheets. His long, wet fingers danced along his hips and reached around his back to barely brush over his hole. The puckered ring seemed to tighten at the warning.

It wasn’t long before Taehyung’s subtle moans bounced off the walls of the room. His deep voice bubbled up his throat, squeaky, choked whines escaping as he pushed a finger in then another. His digits tugged on his rim, attempting to stretch it out in preparation for Yoongi.

Meanwhile, the elder watched him in awe. There was something so beautiful about the way Taehyung had his pretty back arched, his ass up in the air in full view. Yoongi couldn’t help his hand from wandering down to his pants, his hand grabbing hold of his crotch as he palmed the growing erection behind the fabric. It really wasn’t enough—not when his imagination was going haywire with Taehyung right there in front of him. It felt like a dream come true seeing how tight Taehyung was.

“I always pegged you to have a loose hole,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, his free hand reaching out to stroke the boy’s supple skin.

Taehyung quivered at the assumption and the other boy’s touch. He tossed a sly look over his shoulder, but the smolder in his gaze wavered as Yoongi danced his pale fingers along his soft, caramel skin. The contrast was enticing, a sweet blend of colors. “I usually do, but being up here means I haven’t been fucked in a while.” His voice cracked in a broken moan as he curled his own fingers inside of him. The elder observed where his fingers joined his hole, watched as he pulled at his opening. God, he was so pretty.

“You tight, Tae?”

“So tight,” Taehyung confirmed in a whine, “bet your fat cock will fill me up real good, huh?”

Fuck yes. A hiss slipped past his gritted teeth as Taehyung sat back on the balls of his feet. His hand was still trapped behind him, sinking deep into his ass as he began to bounce against his palm. Yoongi didn’t think he had ever seen a prettier sight than that. Taehyung’s cock, long and thick, was standing upright. He could see the tip beaded with a drop of white, precome that clung onto his skin before rolling down the length every time he moved. His member thumped against his stomach every time the boy sank down on his fingers, his gaze wild with clouded lust and mouth open, tongue practically dripping with desire.

“My cock’s not too big, but you’re tight enough,” Yoongi grunted.

Taehyung grinned at that, a teasing, mischievous curve of his lips. “Yeah? You got a small cock, hyung?”

When he put it that way, Yoongi was blushing. Sure, he wasn’t the biggest in his friend group, but he wasn’t tiny. Maybe.

“Take it out, hyungie,” Taehyung cooed as if he was coaxing a pet. He shifted closer to the edge of the bed, to where Yoongi stood touching himself through his pants. “I wanna see your cock.”

Licking his lips, the elder quickly worked away at his button and zipper with trembling his fingers. There was this nip of fear that—what if Taehyung didn’t like his size? What if Taehyung was into monstrous-sized co—

“Fuck,” Taehyung clenched his jaw, “fuck, you’re so pretty. Cock like that, shit. Looks small, baby.”

A flush spread across his skin at record speed, coloring his cheeks and the back of his neck to the tips of his ears. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, his lips parting and his throat moving as he swallowed. Taehyung had nudged forward again, his free hand reaching out to wrap around Yoongi’s dick. The first contact was like a relief to his throbbing member, one that had been left without pleasure for too long.

“Do you like that? Do you like being called small?” Taehyung giggled. Yoongi blushed again in response. He’s heard it before from others he’s fucked, knew that he liked his size the way it was, but at the same time, had a Thing for being reminded of it, reminded of how much smaller he was than others. “So cute, hyung,” Taehyung laughed again.

It really should’ve hurt his pride and his bloated ego, but the only pain he could feel was from the sudden rush of blood down between his legs. His knees wobbled a little with Taehyung’s words and he offered no response whatsoever to confirm nor deny that he really did in fact fucking love it when Taehyung called him small.

“Mmm, bet I can take the whole thing in my mouth in one go,” the younger simpered with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Leaning forward and with one hand still behind him to finger himself open, Taehyung parted his lips to mouth at Yoongi’s cock.

The heat that swallowed up his sensitive length was excruciatingly mind-blowing. Taehyung’s tongue pressed down against the sensitive skin and dragged up along the length of it. True to his word, he managed to stick the entire thing down his throat without gagging even once. His nose brushed against the base of his cock where a few curls of hair tickled his face. Yoongi released a low moan and buried his fingers in Taehyung’s soft hair. The gesture had Taehyung groaning as well, the vibrations coursing through his already shaking figure. It pulsed a rhythm through his veins, a quick skip in his heartbeat.

Taehyung pulled off with a loud, purposeful pop before sucking hard on the head again. His tongue darted out to collect the dot of come from Yoongi’s slit before he smiled up at him again. “You’ve got the nicest cock, hyung. I don’t think I’ve ever had cock this pretty and cute before.”

Cute. He called his cock cute. Yoongi should’ve been offended, that would be the normal reaction, wouldn’t it? But he wasn’t. Instead he jerked his hips forward for Taehyung to take him again. Taehyung stroked it in his hand, the length comparable to the size of his palm. It was almost humiliating if it didn’t feel so good.

“So small, hyung, fuck,” Taehyung cursed, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty. I want you stick this in me, stretch me out. You’re small but I promise you I’m tight enough that you can feel my ass squeezing you.”

“Then do it,” Yoongi grumbled, tilting the other boy’s head back so he was looking up at the elder. “Why don’t you turn around and give me your ass so I can fuck you properly.”

Taehyung was practically buzzing in anticipation as he scrambled around, shaking his ass at Yoongi who was about ready to faint with how good Taehyung’s ass looked. “Do your worst.”

Yoongi snatched up a condom from his wallet and quickly rolled it down his length. He picked up the bottle of lube and drenched his cock in it, spreading it along his member.

“You don’t need that much, hyung, it’s not going to hurt that bad with your size.”

The elder stiffened and directed a threatening glare at the younger, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s gonna be tight, but not that tight.”

Yoongi’s hand came down on Taehyung’s ass in an echoing crack. For a second, he thought he had fucked up, thought he had hurt him, but Taehyung’s following whimper proved otherwise. Instead, the younger stuck his ass back at him more, nudging it in his direction. “I thought you were this cute, sweet kid. What happened to him?”

“I turn into an asshole in bed,” Taehyung smirked, “get it, asshole? Ha ha.”

Christ. Yoongi wanted to toss him across his lap and spank the living daylights out of him. But maybe that was for another day (or tomorrow morning). “You always talk this much? Guys never shut you up before.”

“They shut me up once they prove to me they can use their cock properly.”

Growling, Yoongi yanked his ass back, nearly causing the younger to slip his grasp on the sheets. He positioned himself before Taehyung before thrusting his hips to fill him up in one go. The boy jolted forward with the movement, a shocked gasp drawn from his pretty lips. Taehyung had been right. Even with Yoongi’s size, Taehyung was still so, so fucking tight. His ass was snug and warm, wrapped around Yoongi’s dick perfectly.

He swung his body easily, jutting his hips forward to bury his cock over and over again inside of Taehyung. The boy was writhing before him, his slim figure trembling with every one of Yoongi’s thrusts. Yoongi didn’t go easy, he was too impatient, it’s been too long. All he could feel was the absolute ecstasy of the tightness that surrounded his cock, the walls that clenched around his sensitive length to bring him closer to his peak. Taehyung’s cries and little ‘uh-uh-uhs’ only fueled his growing desire, the bubbling warmth brewing inside his belly. His moans were so fucking pretty, Yoongi drank it all up like a drug he could never be clean of.

“Such a cute little ass,” Yoongi grunted, his cock sliding into the tunnel again. It was such a good fit and every time he jerked forward, he could feel Taehyung loosening up to him. “Can’t fuckin’ believe you’re not getting your little hole opened up every night, fucked open like this.”

“Hnnnng, fuck,” Taehyung sobbed, “f-feels so good. O-only want your cock, hyung. You’re so good, fuck me. Fuck me open. Make me your little slut.”

Goddamn. “You want that? Want me to make you my little cockslut?” Yoongi bit back, giving a particularly hard thrust that reached deeper inside of Taehyung. “I should fuck you in the lobby where everyone can see you, see what a pretty little slut you are. Do you want that?” Taehyung was still too immersed in the sensations that engulfed him, bearing Yoongi no response. The elder’s jaw ticked. “Answer me.”

“A-aah, yeah, I want that, want you to make me your slut. Want everyone to see my ass always open for the taking for you,” Taehyung whined, “fuck me harder, h-hyung.”

Yoongi obliged and moved faster and harder, his thighs were aching and his knees were beginning to give, but he pushed through to give Taehyung what he wanted. The boy was already so close, his body giving tremors to how deliriously incredible it felt to be filled up full.

“J-just like that, I-I’m so close,” he choked, breaths hiccuping in his throat.

“Come for me, baby. Come on, show me how much tighter this ass can be. Clench around my cock, slut,” Yoongi snarled, hand coming down on Taehyung’s ass. The action came as a surprise and Taehyung enjoyed it way too much with the way his cock twitched and leaked, dripping precome all over the sheets.

Taehyung gasped, “Again. Hit me again.”

“Like getting punished, huh?” Yoongi chuckled, humoring him with another smack on his other cheek. It was almost mesmerizing to see the soft skin jiggle and Yoongi wished he could capture this moment on camera. “Tell me what you are, baby.”

“I-I’m a slut,” Taehyung hitched, swallowing the thickness in his throat.

“Whose slut?”

“Yours!” he cried as Yoongi thrust forward, hard and fast, again. “Yours! Your slut.”

Yoongi grinned, smoothing his hand down the reddening skin to alleviate the soreness. “Good boy, now, do you want to come for me?” Taehyung nodded eagerly, practically mewling in desperation as he plead for Yoongi to let him come. “Alright, baby, come on. Come for me, I want to see your milk all over my bed.”

His words had Taehyung tipping over the edge, his lips parting soundlessly, eyes blown wide, as white semen spurt out of his cock and spilled all over the bleached sheets. His body was still quaking as Yoongi pounded into him deeper, chasing after his own orgasm and filling the elastic with the result of his climax.

The two were out of breath, stuck in the same position with Yoongi still settled snugly inside of Taehyung. Even worse, Taehyung kept nudging his ass back and squeezing his walls as if to drain Yoongi of every last drop of come.

After Yoongi pulled out of him and cleaned him up, he maneuvered the trembling boy underneath the sheets (after stripping off the gross, come-stained ones despite Taehyung’s filthy protests). “You’re letting me sleep here?” Taehyung smiled softly up at him.

It was almost strange to see the one-eighty he did after sex. This post-orgasm afterglow made him even prettier, gentler, almost angelic. “Of course, it’s late. Get some sleep.”

Taehyung giggled and snuggled into Yoongi’s chest when he slid himself underneath the covers. “A good fuck and a gentleman, I might just keep you.”

Yoongi laughed at that, tucking the younger into his side. “We’ll see how long we can survive each other,” he grinned.

“You’re cute, I’ll tolerate you longer.”

“But who says I’ll tolerate you?”

Taehyung pouted adorably, swatting Yoongi’s chest. “Meanie.”

“Go to sleep, baby.”

The fondness in Yoongi’s voice had Taehyung melting into his grasp as he nodded obediently. “Goodnight.”

#bts #taehyung #yoongi #taegi #taegi17 #bts scenarios #bts ships #bts fanfic #bts smut #taegi scenarios #taegi smut #taegi fanfic