#he's smoking the cigarette backwards tho

[shankschewtoy]

Smoker, Luffy and croco boy with a s/o who has the same devil fruit as them and uses it to annoy/prank them constantly.

Crack fic pls

Take care love<3

not me starting to laugh like doffy when I saw this💀💀 ew. anon thank you for allowing me to showcase my endless amount of crack in my mind 💜

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, crack

- the amount of times you’ve scared the shit out of this man is kind of sad. I’m assuming poor smoker gets spooked a lot because of your abilities, and sometimes you’re not even trying to scare him 💀

- you could be minding your own business, floating around and flying around the room during a break with a face mask on. Bro walks in and just dies bec the first thing he sees is a detached floating head with a white face

- “WHAT THE FU-?!”

- and when he gets scared he sets off a bunch of “traps” aka stubbing his toe on a chair that was clearly out of the way, and hitting his head on the doorway

- “IT’S ME!” -you

- I mean- what the fuck were you supposed to do? The man just kept falling backwards into things! He thought you were some kind of monster so he just kept running as he tripped over everything in his way 💀

- this is what he thought was happening:

- “SMOKER. IT’S LITERALLY ME STOP RUNNING!”

- “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

- Tashigi started chasing after him too because she was wondering something abt navy stuff so he kept getting more scared since he couldn’t see what was chasing him😭he just thought you were multiplying 💀

- I’d be scared too if some Smokey person is literally floating after me with a face mask 😂😂😂

- man smoked 56 cigarettes before finally calming down

- “I wish you didn’t have the same devilfruit as me y/n.”

- “OH COME ON I WASNT EVEN TRYING TO SCARE YOU!”

- “IT WORKED!” -him

- “Do you still love me tho?” -you

- “..yeah.”

- on your birthday he blew himself into a balloon and camouflaged into the numerous balloons you got from the crew before you woke up

- when you finally woke up (keep in mind, Luffy was so determined that he woke up early for this prank :0) you stared at the balloons with a smile, the crew was so nice!

- “Hey thanks guys!”

- you walked over to them and took the string of one of them in your hand. It’s amazing how you didn’t hear Luffy giggling like a maniac 😭

- he scooted behind you, making himself lose a bit of air so his blown up face was right behind your head, tapping your shoulder with his long arm

- “BOOO!”

- Nah you smacked the shit out of him, screaming as your fists were covered in haki, ready to punch the absolute soul out of him from fear

- “Luffy?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

- “Ow! Why did you punch me?!”

- “BECAUSE YOU SCARED ME!”

- Poor dude’s face was swollen for the whole day, and you apologized for hitting him after he said sorry for scaring you.

- can you imagine a Luffy balloon in your face? No I don’t mean just his stomach blowing up, I mean his fucking face blown up, and the rest of his body looking all skinny as the string 💀💀 pls I’d cry and shit my pants

- you really can’t beat him in pranks because he always seemed to get you better 😭 but you sure tried

- at night when he was snoring away, you attached yourself to the ceiling, your limbs stretching as your head stretched down to him. (You looked like my sleep demon) “Pssst, Luuuuuuffyyy!”

- “Hm???”

- ok when you’re half asleep you can’t really make out anything, so all the poor guy saw was a fucking demon

- the way he screamed and ran was hilarious, he did not sleep well for days, and clung onto you in bed or whenever he got a chance 🥲

- 100% done with your shit :)

- One time you pretended you were a sandcastle on the beach and waited for him to get closer before making your face pop out at him

- he smacked you with his hook. And… broke your nose 💀

- “…Sorry.”

- “…It’s fine. I’m sorry for trying to scare you.”

- you’re literally struggling to hold in your tears with blood pouring from your nose (BRO WHEN YOUR NOSE GETS SMACKED IT HURTS)

- he felt bad because you’re trying not to cry while sobbing. Poor guy didn’t mean to slap you with haki 💀 nor did he mean to break your nose in half

- he gave you a hug, and let you wear his coat as long as you want since it’s super cozy and fluffy. Also made sandcastles with you while you recovered

- after you felt better, and your nose was finally healed, you both went to the beach again to relax.

- He didn’t like going near the water so he just sat on a chair and watched you find seashells, little sea snails, and other stuff. You brought one back for him, and I swear you’re going to kill the poor guy because of how sweet you are 😭

- he found a mound of sand next to his chair and sighed, you’re trying to prank him again? Didn’t you ever learn?

- “y/n I know that’s you.”

- when there was no response, he grumbled and stood up, poking at the mound with a sigh.

- “Y/n. Please stop.”

- “Huh? Crocodile? Why are you poking that mound of sand?” -you

- his eyes widened as he turned around to see you standing there with a couple sea shells. Wait a damn minute, then what the fuck was this mound of sand doing here?!

- “CROCODILE THOSE ARE SAND SNAKES!”

- The snakes poked their heads out and poor Crocodile picked you up bridal style and started running as they chased you two

- “I THOUGHT IT WAS YOU!” -him

- “I’M NOT DUMB ENOUGH TO DO THAT AGAIN!”

- You gotta hand it to him, the first thing he did when he saw those snakes was pick you up and start running as fast as he could 😭 you were glad you had such a caring man :))) because doffy would’ve totally left you to die 💀

a/n - I feel bad for smoker

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #monkey d luffy #luffy headcanons #op luffy #smoker x y/n #white chase smoker #smoker x reader #smoker x you #one piece smoker #crocodile one piece #crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile op #one piece crocodile #smoker one piece #luffy fluff #one piece luffy #luffy #luffy op #crocodile #smoker #smoker op

[xalienqueer]

Lucemond modern college au

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance

Not incest here (yet? Maybe?)

2.

Luke does his best to control his breath and Aemond get a grip of himself because both of them are on another existencial plane.

If Lucerys would have been sober, hell be ten times more anxious. But, since he’s not he’s felling so confident.

He likes go out for drinking with some mates every often but prefers the pubs because he finds a comfort on the decoration of this. Yes he’s a home boy sometimes, just with little details.

He quickly decide to play cool this time. He knows he’s nervous but what’s the worst that could happen? The guy was the first one to Speak to him. he nods with his head and Aemonds step closer to him already getting the hand inside his blazer so he can reach and pass him one cigarette, but Luke says as fast as he can without thinking too much.

“Just a little bit” and lean his figure a little bit closer the white hair man suggesting something, Aemond repressed a smile at this gesture and took the cigarette out of his lips and approaches it to the boy,at this distance he can even see how his cheeks and nose are red already, maybe the alcohol or the temperature of the night.

Luke may be a champion in his mind just by saying that (what a improvised rizz, he thought); the alcohol always makes him braver to flirt that he’s used to -even tho he’s collapsing in his mind devised the lack of enough alcohol- one day he’ll get problems he know that.

Luke hates the smell of the tabaco. Or well, that was what he used to think until tonight.

But right know he just doesn’t know what he is doing anymore.

It’s the magic in the voice of this man? Yes maybe.

Luke inhale strongly.

Yeah, he’s a non smoker , Aemonds can tell just at the way Luke’s eyes star shining with tears and how he cups his lips and filled his cheeks.

But he gave the boy two points just because: One, when he inhale the curly boy fix his eyes on his and his heart almost skip a beat. Tch, he couldn’t repressed the smirk in his face when Luke just don’t take his eyes off of him. Such a Strong gaze, Huh. And Two, the boy didn’t choke with the smoke.

“Thank you” Luke says feeling his throat burn. Dumb.

Luke wish he had experience smoking so this little chat could last longer and the man won’t get steps backwards. And now he doesn’t know what to do next, he’s just there after exhaled the tabaco of his sistem and looks down at his body, felling the cold breeze and…

“So, are you from around?” Finds himself asking to the tall men.

He end up the cigarrete before answer.

Holds the smoke “Yeah, pretty much, and you? A sophomore I suppose.” And exhaled the smoke looking so freaking fine in the night.

The ring bells and it’s just some group of people that decide to get home, passing by them interrupting something they don’t wanna name yet.

Luke can’t stop smiling, he feels stupid but it’s not a big smile it just his good boy smile. Yes the one he uses when he wants something.

“It is obvious?” And the smile skips.

“Kinda, you have this fresh air around you.” Aemond gesticulated with his hand before getting another cigarette.

“So that means you are a senior? Please don’t say you are a teacher.” Luke has both of his hands behind his back, he just doesn’t know what to do with them.

“What’s wrong with the second option? Do I look scary or mean?” Oh he doesn’t wants to answer that questions. Luke got so red and the smile stars fade away at the idea of having to reply.

“I’m joking I’m a senior, you are alright.” And I know I’m scary, tough to himself.

“Mmmh maybe tough.” If Luke just don’t grip his tongue quickly he’s gonna end up looking like an asshoke to this Greek sculpture alive. “So that means I may see you anytime at the campus?” Yes, Luke has to stop taking really really fast.

Aemond didn’t expect this attitude coming from a boy who actually is saying this things while gets red down the neck but smiles like sayin ‘could we meet again in other time?’ And he wishes he just say it.

Aemond didn’t skip the way luke bites his lip at the realization of how that sounds and he’s not that cruel to point it out, not today. He took one sip of the cigarette and offered to Luke one more time.

“I don’t think so” he wants to see the younger reactions to this, Luke does the same movement of before and till his head moving closer together in the cold. The cigarette it’s at the middle but the breeze put it off, so Aemond has to light it again. Luke is grabbing the cigarette in his lips while he is getting one hand close so the flame doesn’t turn off again.

And when Aemond turns the flame the face of Lucerys lights up and show that his delicate lips are dry by the cold, the long eyelashes and the rose on the eyelids.

Lucerys does it again and Aemond stars doubting about the smoker subject. But Luke it’s actually getting dizzier every second.

He returns the cigarette faster this time and looks at Aemond rising up a little bit his eyebrows.

“Why is that?” Ask a little less polite that before but with genuine curiosity, and licks his lips. Aemond doesn’t move back this time, just stay that distance unwittingly of this.

“I just go some days and got some others off, the schedule is troublesome this semester.”

“Uhm, yeah got it. That’s a shame…”

Why? How is this a shame, Huh, pretty boy? He wants to ask, he wants to be darker in the street and later in the night. He wants for both of them stop being polite but he knows he’s being greedy thinking about this.

“Then, tell me what’s your degree about?”

He is the one following the conversation. Aemond smile through a deep puff before thinking about answering or asking for his name.

The bell rings again and this time it’s one of the curly boy friends. Times up.

Luke straight up his back from the wall he has been leaning over all this time. Part of him thanks his friend because he is already dying of early hypothermia. He hissed his breath and Aemond backs off this time.

“Luke, we are going already, u coming?” Aemond just watch to another side while he talks with the other guy. He’s with other two girls and they seems to be asking for a cap.

“Yes, I’ll be there”. Luke turns his head to Aemond and before he can say something cool he comes with something else.

“Luke? Like from Lucas?”

Luke couldn’t stop the little giggle, maybe he still having alcohol in his system even before that conversation that have crave his insides looking for all the courage he has and now it’s empty and just leaves the immaturity in charge now. He’s glad of leaving already at this point.

“From Lucerys” something is blooming in his insides as he pronounces his name smiling at that man.

The cap arrives early and now they are waiting for Lucerys to cross the street and get up to go home.

Luke stars walking backwards expecting something from Aemond.

“I’m Aemond.”

“Okay see you…sometime I guess, Aemond.”

And there’s something at the way Luke smirks (not smile, smirks with mischief) that Aemond feels like he won’t sleeps really well that night.

#lucemond #aemond one eye #lucerys velaryon #lucerys x aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #lucerys targaryen #luke velaryon #hotd #oneshot #fanfic #modern au

[gorochanfanclub]

Change of Plans

Majima x Original Female Character

Summary: Alternate Goromi origin story. Majima is trying to train his assistant to be a hostess for his latest Kiryu scheme, but gets more than what he bargained for...

Contains: Goromi, sexually suggestive content, a couple curse words, a very jealous Majima

A/N: Haven’t posted anything here in a hot minute but had this idea and wanted to share. Only reason I didn’t make this an x reader is because the way I wanted it to end, it wouldn’t have worked :/ The only really defining traits of the woman in the story are that she’s a very tall American, has big b00bie, and her name is Hiromi. Also... please don’t take this too seriously >.< it was just something silly I thought of lol. This isn’t usually the type of style I like to write in, but I thought it might be fun to make something not so serious or heavy for a change! I hope you all do enjoy it!!

Running her hands down her body, Hiromi looks at herself in the mirror, turning slowly to view herself from every angle possible. The pink leather shines and gleams in the dim light of the dressing room, flashes of snakeskin detail sparkling in the mirror. She barely felt her ass held into the garment, the highest parts of her thighs getting a cool breeze from the fishnet stockings on them. Her broad shoulders poked out the top, her breasts pushed nearly to her chin. 

The entire ensemble was loud, definitely something she couldn’t possibly imagine herself wearing usually. However, she hadn’t been the one to pick out this outfit in the first place, her boss did. Majima, in another one of his crazy antics, had dragged her to a cabaret club of all places, thrown the clothes in her arms, and shoved her into the back room, demanding she change instantly. 

Groaning, Hiromi wonders if Majima really intended for her to leave the room dressed like this. It showed so much skin. She barely remembers the last time she was out in public showing this much skin, even swimming, Hiromi always opted for more conservative attire. 

A loud knock at the door draws her from her thoughts, her employer’s voice shouting yet muffled by the wooden slab. “Hey, Hiromi-chan,” he barks, “Ya been in there for a while now. How long does it take for you to put a dress on?” 

Looking back at herself in the mirror she grimaces. “Majima-san?” she calls over her shoulder, “Do you really want me to wear this?” She pauses, “What is this even for?”

Even through the door, she can hear her boss groan. “I don’t pay ya to ask questions, Hiromi-chan.” 

“I know you don’t, sir,” she snaps back, “You pay me to drive you around. Not wear…” her eyes find her reflection once more, “less than modest clothing.” 

The doorknob starts to giggle at her remark. “I’m sure ya look great,” Majima mutters, saying something under his breath afterwards Hiromi can’t quite hear. “I’m comin’ in, ya decent?” 

Nodding with a hum, Hiromi watches the door fly open, her boss standing in the doorway, the cabaret club’s owner hot on his heels. Eyeing her up and down, Majima soaks her up. A wicked grin plasters itself on his face. “Hot damn, girly!” he exclaims, “Ya look great! The boys are gonna eat you up.” 

Blinking rapidly, Hiromi stares at him with eyes like saucers. “‘Eat me up?’” she repeats, “Don’t you think this is…” she can’t finish, only looking at the vast amount of skin showing from under her clothes. 

Majima tilts his head, “It’s what? Don’t like what I picked ya?” 

Hiromi shakes her head rapidly, “Uh, no it’s fine, it’s just a little… revealing… is all.” 

Making his way across the room, Majima claps a gloved hand on his assistant’s shoulder. “Of course it is!” he shouts, his booming voice echoing in the room, “When yer in this line of work, ya gotta show off the goods.” With a flirtatious wink that makes Hiromi’s cheeks feel on fire, he adds, “And trust me, girly... you got ‘em.” 

Majima then steps back, looking her up and down once more before stopping at her breasts. The dress was barely holding them in and it made Majima chuckle, “Not to mention, I think Kiryu’s got a thing for big knockers like yers.” 

“What?” Hiromi snaps, “This is a Kiryu thing? You’re dragging me into this now?”

The one eyed man only shrugs, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Yer on my payroll and I gotta use the tools I got on hand. Right now sweetheart, that’s you.” 

Slumping her shoulders, Hiromi knows it was best to simply accept her fate and take her orders. There was no arguing with Majima once his heart was set on something. The man was not only stubborn, he was determined. Sighing, she asks, “Alright, what would like me to do, sir?” 

Cackling maniacally, Majima claps, rubbing his leather gloves together in anticipation. “That’s more like it!” he shouts with glee. 

He then steps to Hiromi’s side, wrapping an arm around her bare shoulders, leading her past the club owner and out into the main section of the club. “Now,” he explains, “here’s the plan; yer gonna use,” he gestures to her body, making a particularly large gesture to her chest, “all this, to lure Kiryu-chan in, right?” 

Hiromi nods in acknowledgement as he continues, “Get him all buttered up ‘n’ shit. Then…” he snaps loudly in front of Hiromi’s face, making her jerk backwards for a second, “I’ll swoop in for the kill- start disrespectin’ ya and all. Kiryu’s a real gentleman, there’s no way he’ll pass up the chance to fight fer a girl’s honor.” He ogles her breasts once more, “‘Specially one as busty as you.” 

The woman stutters nervously and incoherently before clearing her throat, “Do you really think I’ll be able to win him over, Majima-san?” Looking down, she rubs the back of her neck, “Kiryu seems to be a rather tough nut to crack. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this.” 

Walking them to a table in the back Majima chuckles once more. “I know yer, not,” he states blankly, much to his assistant’s surprise. “That’s why I’m gonna train ya…” 

Before she can protest, Hiromi feels herself being shoved onto the plush velvet sofa behind her. With a huff, she flops down, looking up through her hair to see Majima situating himself next to her. 

Sitting up and brushing her hair out of her face, Hiromi meekly asks, “Wh-what kind of training do I need, sir?” Looking down, she notices how far up her risque dress has ridden up. With a faint blush dusting her cheeks, she tugs it as close to her knees as possible, the action completely foiled by the lack of fabric the dress had. 

Leaning back, Majima makes himself comfortable. Crossing one of his leather clad legs over his knee, he sighs, “Gotta make sure you can handle Kiryu-chan.” Noticing the look of absolute fear on her face, he grins, waving a hand in dismissal, “Just relax, girly girl, we’re just gonna do some talkin’.” 

Majima reaches inside the inner breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and nonchalantly lighting one. As he inhales, a nostalgic smile works its way across his lips, tugging gently at the corners, “Y’know, I used to do this fer a living. Kinda miss it too…” 

He turns slowly to the woman on the seat next to him, “So yer in good hands, Hiromi-chan, nothin’ to worry yer pretty little head about.” 

She nods, taking his words in. Hiromi takes the chance to admire Majima as he prepares for his training session with her. The way the smoke floated around his head, it made him look like an angel, resting above the clouds, looking down on the world that belonged only to him. 

Majima could feel her eyes on him, watching him intently. Suddenly he felt nervous about being here with her, especially with the way he had dressed her, she was practically naked. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all… 

“Nuff about that, tho,” he beams, snapping himself from his dull stupor, pulling Hiromi from hers as well. “Let’s get down to it,” he sighs, raising a inquisitive eyebrow, “Ya ever done anythin’ like this before?” 

Touching a finger to her cheek, Hiromi tilts her head in thought. Majima smirked, finding the action somewhat cute. “Well…” she starts, “I’m not quite sure how ‘this’ all works but… I used to flirt a lot with men at the bars back in my clubbing days,” she turns to her boss with an expectant look, “Does that count, Majima-san?” 

Nodding, he smiles brightly, “That’s exactly the way you gotta act. Talk ‘em up, get ‘em to buy you more drinks,” he points a finger at her, “and usually I wouldn’t say this but since these’re special circumstances… there’s no such thing as ‘too handsy.’ Kiryu-chan’s been in prison fer ten long years, I imagine a perv like him would go wild havin’ a nice little thing like you pawing all over him.” 

Hiromi grins, nodding as she takes in her instructions. She hums, “I think I’m beginning to understand what I need to do.” 

Majima leans back, fluffing up his jacket then smoothing it down as he situates again, “Alright then, we’re just gonna pretend that I’m Kiryu-chan and yer gonna do yer best to win me over.” 

The woman nods shortly leaning back herself. In an instant, she crosses her long legs at the knees, the heel of her left foot tapping the glass table in front of them with a heavy thud. 

The action shocked Majima. His eye looks down to the pink stiletto next to his own thigh, the toes so dangerously close to grazing his leg. Trailing his gaze up her toned legs, he notices the fishnets end right at the thickest part of her rather voluptuous thighs, the elastic squeezing them ever so slightly. 

Following her body further, Majima trains his eye on the way the dress hugged her body in all the right places. From the way it strained against her hips, bunched slightly at her waist, then nearly ripped at her chest, he realized maybe he went a little too far with the outfit. 

Finally, his gaze meets her face. A blush threatens to creep onto his cheeks with the way she is looking at him. It was almost like she had flipped a switch inside her. The usual stoic and no nonsense Hiromi he relied on during a day to day basis was gone. In her place was a tigress, dark eyes staring him down like a wounded prey, ready to be devoured. 

Majima swallows, trying his best to keep his composure. He grins again, hiding his discomfort, “Hello there, my name is Kiryu Kazuma, what’s you’re name?” he asks, doing his best impression of the deep voiced Kiryu. 

The woman tilts her head with a wicked grin, “Hiromi. It means ‘generous beauty.’”

And what a beauty she is, Majima thinks to himself before tilting his own head in confusion, “‘Hiromi?’ That’s a Japanese name, ma’am. Don’t you think you’re a little tall for a Japanese lady?” 

Majima feels something grace his leg and he looks down to see one of Hiromi’s pink shoes rubbing itself gently up and down his thigh. She chuckles, “Astute observation Kiryu-san. In fact, I’m from America. Have you ever been?” 

Shaking his head, Majima shrugs, “Can’t say I have, Hiromi-chan. In fact, I’ve never left Japan.” 

Suddenly, the soft sensation of a foot rubbing his thigh is lost. Majima nearly lets out a displeased groan, choking it back at the last second. When he looks up to meet her face again, he is greeted with her leaning forward, her left hand supporting her and her right resting on the sofa in the spot her foot had previously been. 

“You should make a point to go sometime, Kiryu-san,” Hiromi mutters, her voice barely above a sultry whisper. Her hand begins to trace up Majima’s leg, palming his thigh gently, “I’m sure you’d get lots of young American ladies on your arm, what with you being so big and handsome.” 

This time, Majima isn’t able to hold back the blush on his cheeks. Here he was, sitting in a cabaret club with his long legged, scantily clad, foreign, assistant, and she’s fondling him like they’re lovers. It didn’t help that she was so close he could smell the mint of her gum from earlier still on her breath. 

“Maybe I’d rather stay right here,” Majima counters, “Why go to America when I have a gorgeous American girlie on my arm right now?” 

With a laugh, Hiromi’s fingers dig into the muscle on Majima’s thigh. With them so close to his manhood, Majima couldn’t help himself from jumping in shock. She really took his instruction to heart when he told her to get handsy. Swallowing, Majima wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. 

“You flatter me too much,” Hiromi laughs. Batting her eyelashes she smiles that predatory smile once more, “But… I can’t think of any other place in this world I’d rather be, either.” 

Flattening her palm once more, she trails her touch up Majima’s leg, onto his toned stomach, feeling every contour of his chiseled torso. Taking her other hand, she hooks a finger underneath Majima’s chin, forcing him to look at her, also bringing him a bit closer. 

“I’ve got everything I could possibly want right in front of me…” she whispers. Instinctively, Majima grabs her hip, desperately needing someplace to put his hands. This earns a light chuckle from Hiromi, “Touching already, are we? At least buy me a drink first.” 

Looming over her shoulder, he waves to the club owner to bring something around. Turning his attention back to the woman in his arms, he nearly stutters, “So, Hiromi-chan, ya got any special guys in yer life? Can’t imagine a sexy little broad like you going to bed alone.” 

The hungry gleam in his eye starts to grow, almost matching her own hungry gaze. She smiles, grazing her fingertips across Majima’s collarbone, “There might be one, and if he plays his cards right tonight…” The grip on his jaw tightens as she pulls his ear to her lips, “I might just go home with him.” 

With fake shock, Majima opens his mouth wide, “That so? Well I hope I do, then. Wouldn’t want to pass up the opportunity to wake up next to ya.” His grip on her hip strengthens, his gloved fingers squeaking against the leather of her dress. 

Continuing her motions on his chest, trailing over the edges of his tattoos, Hiromi asks coyly, “Do you have any ‘special’ women waiting for you at home, sir?” 

Majima only chuckles, “Now, if I did, would I really be at a place like this, lettin’ you fawn all over me?” She only shrugs, “You might, I couldn’t possibly know.” 

Shaking his head, Majima smirks, “Nah, I only got one lady in my life, and that’s you, darlin’.” 

Hiromi chuckles, pulling away from Majima once more. The loss of her hands on his skin leaves him feeling lonely and cold. However, suddenly, he finds Hiromi spreading her legs, arcing one over Majima’s hips to straddle him. 

Hovering her bum just above him, she grabs his shoulders, one of her knuckles outlining his jaw. She mumbles against his cheek, her breath causing the hairs on the back of his neck to raise, “Then I think we should enjoy our evening together, Kiryu-san.” 

Kiryu-san. 

Up until she said that, Majima had completely forgotten he was supposed to be training her for a night with Kiryu. Suddenly, the idea of having to watch her touch Kiryu and whisper into his ear the way she was doing to Majima right now seemed extremely unappealing. 

Something inside him boiled at the thought of that. He wasn’t sure what it was but with the way her lips were grazing his jaw and the way her weight was pressing upon him, he wasn’t sure he could stomach watching her do all the same things to another man… a man that wasn’t him. 

Leaning back, he meets her eyes, still dark, still hungry. Majima’s good eye darts to her lips, plump and covered in a hideous, gaudy pink shade that didn’t suit her at all. He was half tempted right then and there to kiss it all off, just to return her to her natural glory. 

Still playing the game Majima had abandoned a long time ago, she smiles, “What do you say, Kiryu-san? Can’t we have some fun?” 

Hearing her say his name again was just enough to pull Majima from his daze. Tapping her hip, that he previously had been gripping for dear life, he mutters to her, “Alright, get up, this isn’t gonna work.” 

Hiromi instantly stops her motions, furrowing her brow at her boss, “Wait- what?” 

Majima, with a bit of difficulty, and reluctance, pushes his assistant off him, sending her stumbling onto the velvet where she previously sat. “I said this ain’t gonna work, girly.” Standing up he glances over her body once more, taking in all the curves, “Kiryu ain’t gonna fall for all that. The guy may be a pervert but he ain’t stupid.” 

Sitting up as fast as she can Hiromi shakes her head, “What do you mean? Was I doing something wrong? Maybe I could try again. Was it too much?” she sputters, desperate to please her boss. 

Was it too much? Majima scoffs internally. She nearly was grinding against him and she had the audacity to ask if it was too much. Fact of the matter was, she was way too good at this, Kiryu wouldn’t have stood a chance. Five more minutes and Majima himself would have lost control.

Waving his hand to quell her blabbing, Majima shakes his head, still trying to pull himself back to reality. “Nah, it’s useless. We’ll have to think of something else. Yer just not cut out fer this, dollface,” he lies. 

Hanging her head in defeat she sighs, “I’m sorry, Majima-san, I really was trying.” 

Sighing himself, Majima feels a pang of guilt, “Don’t worry about it.” His eye falls to the hem of her dress that had ridden up a little too high. Finding it hard to breathe looking at her, he turns away, “Why don’t ya go get changed? That old thing is ugly as fuck anyway.” 

Hiromi nods, standing up and smoothing her dress down, “Yes, sir,” she states. Before she turns to leave, she looks down at herself one more time. She chuckles once then glances to Majima, “It’s a shame no one will get to see it, though… In fact, it might actually look pretty good on you, Majima-san.” 

At that comment, a lightbulb shines in Majima’s head. He darts his attention back to his assistant, eyeing the pink leather dress. “Say that again, Hiromi-chan,” he commands. 

Her smile falls, face contorting in confusion again. She slowly repeats herself, “‘It might actually look pretty good on you?’”

Of course, Majima thought. If Hiromi couldn’t get Kiryu to fight him, Majima could. What in this world would piss Kiryu off more than embarrassing him in front of an entire cabaret club by having drinks with a yakuza in drag? And if that didn’t work, Majima knew he could think of something on the fly. 

“Hiromi-chan,” Majima starts, “Yer a genius, I could kiss you right now.”

Her eyes go wide as her face goes dark with a blush, “You could... kiss me?”

Realizing what he just said, Majima nervously rubs the back of his neck, “Jeez, it’s just a figure of speech. I just mean... oh nevermind... come here a sec. I wanna see somethin’.”

Doing as she’s told, Hiromi walks up to her boss meekly. Majima moves to stand beside her, comparing his height and build to hers. Seeing how similar they were, he asks, “Say, Hiromi-chan, looks like we’re about the same size.” 

She only nervously nods, “Why, yes, sir. I’m a rather large woman and, with no offense to you, you’re a rather slim man. It isn’t too far fetched to think we’d be a similar size.” 

Grabbing her shoulders, Majima shoves her towards the back of the club, to the dressing room. “Great, now go take that thing off… and hand it to me when yer done.” 

“Hand it to… you?” 

***

After a long hour of doing his hair and makeup, Majima came out of the dressing room looking like a new man or in this case… woman. 

While he may not have had the assets to fill the garment out, Hiromi couldn’t deny that it indeed fit him like a glove. Not to mention, the pink faux snakeskin looked so much better on him. 

Arms crossed as she watches him prance around, fully drowning himself in his new character, Hiromi shakes her head in disbelief, “I had no idea this is what you had in mind as a backup plan but… color me impressed, sir. This might just be your greatest scheme yet.” 

With a feminine chuckle Majima flutters his eyelashes, “Why, thank you Hiromi-chan.” Stopping for a moment, he looks into the mirror, a scowl on his face, “Just need a name to match this pretty face.” 

Perking back up, he whips around, “I got one. Goromi.” Gesturing between them, he nods, “It’s my name and your name put together. What could be more perfect?” 

Hiromi nods, chuckling, “Very clever, sir.” Turning her wrist over, she checks her watch, “Majima-san, it’s getting late, should I phone Kiryu-san and have him swing by?” 

A manic grin spreads across Majima’s lips, the anticipation of violence making him giddy. “Do it. I think it’s time for Goromi to make her debut…” 

#majima goro x reader #goro majima x reader #goromi #majima goro x ofc #goro majima x ofc #hope you all enjoy :)

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Not me saying I wasn’t going to post any of my writing and then immediately going back on my word, no sir!! I’m actually really REALLY proud of this tho, so... up it goes. His Dark Materials AU for my OCs!

[For those that don’t know, in the HDM world everybody has something called a dæmon, which is the physical manifestation of their soul in the form of an animal.]

Dusk bruised the sky, ugly purple-black with smoke and the oncoming night. No stars dared to tread above this city. Even the moon hid her face.

Below, the streets were populated only by shadows. It was easy to mistake them for one, hunched as they were on the stairs in a dark suit and with their face hidden behind an even darker sheet of hair. Only the ember at the tip of their cigarette separated them from the night.

Footsteps descended down the stairs behind them. Their owner had his hands tucked into his pockets, refusing to touch the brass rails mottled with grime. A staccato of claws clicked between each step.

“You’re late,” the living shadow said, the memory of a thousand other cigarettes burnt into their throat.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come at all.”

A ribbon of smoke curled from their lips. “Don’t give me that shit,” they said, disgusted. “You always do. You always will. We both know it.”

“You’re in good spirits tonight,” he responded mildly. His name was Dante, and he regretfully knew the shadow too well to be offended. He hated them less than they deserved. His dæmon stood by his side in the form of a large black dog, the feeble anbaric light of the streetposts settling on her fur and gleaming in her calm eyes.

The shadow had no dæmon to be found.

They merely grunted and rose to their feet. They flicked their cigarette away; it carved a red arch through the air before it winked out on the pavement. They started walking.

Dante exchanged a glance that spoke volumes with his dæmon. But they followed, because he did know. They both did.

The shadow’s name was June, and Dante was their only friend (though, that may be too strong a word.) The reasons for this were immediately obvious, not limited to the miasma of cigarette smoke that seemed woven into their clothes, nor their frankly ugly tongue. Their voice was complicated, interesting, but their face was ordinary; long, with stark bones beneath dark golden-brown skin, an interesting nose and eyes the colour of charcoal. They were also abysmally short, the crown of their head barely reaching Dante’s shoulder. He didn’t mention that.

They barely had to flash their card at the bouncer before he swung the door open for them, his lizard dæmon curled nervously along his forearm. June strode through without a backwards glance. Dante gave him a nod.

It was dim inside the den. The air ought to have been stained red for the stench of copper, sweat and alcohol that clung to every breath; Dante thought he could feel the effects of a pint just from inhaling. The walls were panelled with dark wood, packed to bursting with people. Barely people – raucous grins, jostling, laughing, screaming like fiends in human skins. Even their dæmons seemed inebriated, staggering between their legs with tongues lolling against chins. Nevertheless, all parted for June and their silent, bulky shadow.

June didn’t spare them a single glance. They had bred this intimidation, this mystery, fed it with the tender care of a mother and watched its first steps with pride.

“Just keep your mouth shut,” they had told Dante. “You’re unknowable now. Their fear and uncertainty will make you great.”

That suited him just fine. He never was a man of many words.

Darodrey stayed pinned to his side like a moth to a board. The angle of her ears still read as calm, but she had begun to pant in the crushing heat of the den. He rested a soothing hand on her head. He could feel her anticipation crackling beside his own. They never felt quite so alive than when they were in these ratholes.

He drew back the shabby curtain that sectioned off the preparation quarter, allowed June to step in first. He pulled it to behind him, hands immediately dropping to unbutton his short coat. It fell to the floor, revealing an expanse of scarred olive skin and the lines of thick muscles. He opened the tin set to the side on the bench.

“Nova,” June told him, low. “Dumb as a barrel of shit, but he hits like one too.”

“His dæmon?” It was Drey who asked, as Dante slid a guard over his teeth. The shock of his dæmon speaking to them had been worn away by familiarity long ago.

“A mountain lion.”

Drey noted, “Also stupid.”

Dante pulled a white roll from the tin and began to unwind it around his knuckles. “Only Nova?”

“Mitchellson could be taken as well, if you’re fit after the first.”

“I’ll take him.” Dante flexed his fingers experimentally. “A bear, right?”

“Black,” June confirmed.

Maybe I’ve finally found a challenge, Drey murmured to him and him alone.

Dante secured the final bandage. “What do we get for both?”

“Enough.” June tilted their head, their hair falling against the blade they called a jaw. “As long as you don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” He couldn’t.

They’re depending on us.

They, they, they. The two men currently warming his bed with their dreams, wound together in a lover’s knot. Maybe they did depend on him, but not in a way that led into an underground fighting den. That would break them to know.

A roar went up from behind the curtain, more ferocious than any bear. Darodrey’s fur rose along her spine, lips pulling back in fierce delight. Dante rolled his shoulders, knocked his knuckles together till they ached.

“Get out there,” June said, and then their hand closed claw-like over his wrist. “Do not disappoint me, Diệu.”

With the adrenaline biting in his pulse, he didn’t even deign to answer that. Instead, he merely gave them a measured look and pushed through the curtain. Darodrey’s tail whipped out on his heels.

June watched after him for a moment. Their expression was unreadable, their fingers hovering over the red kerchief folded in their breast pocket. Then their jaw set, and they followed him out.

Dumb as a barrel of shit seemed to be the perfect way to describe Nova. His angelic name didn’t look like it belonged to the brutish man with a vividly new scar wound across his bald head. His eyes were, by all means, bright blue, but even they looked dull in his face.

To his credit, he wasn’t prancing or hopping like he was on hot coals, like some of the other peacocks Dante had fought. He simply leaned against the metal links behind him, taking in his competition from under furrowed brows.

Dante ran his eyes up him, down him as if in a mere cursory glance. His fingers were still purple with fresh bruises, darker on his left hand than his right. The muscles in his arms were massively developed. He was also very actively trying to convince Dante he held his weight on his right side. He was concentrating on it harder than he was concentrating on breathing.

Meanwhile, Drey was summarizing her opponent. She found her wanting – the same dull eyes, patchy pelt and a tediously swaying tail.

“Don’t be arrogant,” he told her.

“Vrox is right. You confuse arrogance with confidance too much.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

“Utter modesty never got anyone anywhere, Dante.” She stretched out one hind leg and then the other, unbothered.  “We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think we were the best.”

Dante hesitated. Something troubled curled like lead in his stomach.

“Pay attention,” she warned.

Their opponent and his dæmon had leaned to their feet. The crowd was stirring around them, a great wave of excitement, raw in the way only betting could achieve. Dante knew three quarters of those bets were on him, and he knew that would chafe at his opponent’s pride. Sure enough, he saw something close to hate flicker in Nova’s deep-set eyes.

The referee pushed between the two men, a smile fake and white as a skull’s wide on his lips. He dove enthusiastically into his usual spiel, but Dante tuned him out. He could recite it in his sleep already. He watched the lion dæmon’s claws unfurl from their sheathes, ticking lightly against the floor. Her eyes were locked on Darodrey. On her throat.

Good luck with that, bitch, Drey growled.

The bell sounded early, ringing clear above the crowd’s uproar. A look of frightened consternation darted across the referee’s face, but he did the sensible thing and tossed aside his dignity to sprint out of the way of the two fighters. Not a second too late, either: Nova came at Dante like a boulder in an avalanche.

Nova jabbed with his right hand, but expectedly the blow was weak enough for Dante to smash it aside with his forearm and return one of his own. It snapped Nova’s head back, snapped something else as well. Blood splattered down his chin, his nose a pulpy mess. His dæmon hissed in pain.

There was definitely hate in those eyes now.

Dante flicked some of the blood of his hand as Nova came at him again. A grimace crossed his face as Drey fastened her teeth deep enough in his dæmon’s foreleg to scrape bone, but his next punch whistled toward Dante’s face. Dante had to duck to the side to avoid it. It clipped his ear instead of knocking out his teeth, and Dante didn’t bother straightening, just slammed his fist into his stomach.

The angle was wrong, but Nova folded anyway, and Dante jerked his knee up. It caught his chin was a satisfying clatter of teeth. Nova fell backward, and cried out – not for himself, though.

Darodrey had his dæmon’s neck between her jaws and was shaking her violently, back and forth, back and forth as if she were trying to rip clean through to her spine. The lion twisted under her, loose skin bunching, and ripped at her face with jagged claws. Darodrey fell back reluctantly with red dripping from her mouth, snarling like thunder.

Claws, teeth, fists, two fights tangled into one. The noise was atrocious. Curses smudged into growls, roars, the sound of flesh ripping, skin and bone colliding.

Nova kicked Dante’s knee, forced him to down or risk a break. An arm found its hold around his neck. The demented cheers of the crowd dulled as if Dante had submerged his head underwater. Blood pounded thickly in his ears.

No time for fear, no hesitation. He grabbed Nova’s wrist in an iron grip and began to inexorably pry it away from his throat. Nova grunted from the strain – from surprise – his weight wavering on Dante’s back. The moment he could draw in a breath, he gathered himself and threw. Nova slammed into the ground, every scrap of air rushing painfully out of his lungs. His dæmon yowled. Dante was only half surprised when he rolled to his feet and came at him again immediately.

A sloppy mistake. To stay on the ground would mean the end of him, but to swing so quickly, so desperately, with his weight falling now onto his left side–

Dante left an opening. Waited.

And there was the left hand, twice as fast as the right, angled to catch him on the chin and knock him senseless.

Dante caught the punch by the wrist. He saw the panic flash in Nova’s eyes and waited just one moment more to let it set in, let him feel it. Then he twisted his arm under his own and drove downward with brutal efficiency. The bone shattered, and Nova screamed.

It was a ragged noise, an animal noise, the same that his dæmon gave as she writhed on the floor. Drey took advantage of the distraction by sinking her teeth in her shoulder and flinging her against the metal barrier.

Dante let the momentum carry Nova forward. The other man crashed to the floor, clutching at his arm. Dante noted distantly that he could see a shard of bone poking through the ripped skin at his elbow. Distant, far-away, nothing. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t a man. He was the roaring in his ears, the blur behind his eyes, the molten heat coursing through his veins. He was the mechanical action of kneeling over him, caging him in his knees, and smashing a punch into Nova’s cheekbone, feeling it give. Then his jaw, the imprint of the teeth within against his knuckles. Blackening an eye, splitting a lip to ruin. One punch ran into many. Raining until Nova resembled something out of a nightmare.

“Enough, enough or you’ll forfeit, I swear you’ll forfeit–”

He paused. There was a frantic, quiet voice in his ear. The referee had been trying to hold his arm back, but he hadn’t felt any resistance as he destroyed Nova’s face. Nova, whose body was a wreck. Nova, who he held between his knees.

In his mind, Jesse smiled up at him. His hands smoothed down his stomach, his thighs. Curious and trusting.

Nova groaned, blood bubbling from his lips.

Abruptly, Dante was sure he was going to be sick.

He staggered to his feet and lurched through the open cage door, shoving through the crowd. He would leave smudges of dark, dark crimson on their clothes wherever he touched them, he knew, but they couldn’t seem to get enough of it: hands showered down on him, patting, smacking, gripping, pushing and tugging. He could hear Darodrey snarling, only white noise that buzzed in his ears.

He burst through the back door into the reeking alleyway beyond. He stumbled against the wall, nails drawing bloody streaks down the uneven bricks. He stood there, and he shuddered.

But he wasn’t sick. He was nothing at all.

Darodrey whined and pressed her nose into his palm, licked at his trembling fingers, trying to clean off the blood. He could still feel the gore caught between her teeth. The torn flesh of a soul – such a terrible thing.

Diệu, Diệu, Diệu, she whispered.

The nothing coalesced slowly, becoming simply the bricks rough against his forehead. Out here in the cool and the smoke, the clouds had made good on their promise: a thin veil of rain misted the streets, gathered and trickled down between Dante’s shoulder blades. It should have steamed where it touched his skin, but it didn’t, because nothing here was pure. It tasted like soot in the back of his throat.

The door crashed open behind him. The violence echoed in his ears.

“They need you back,” June said, sharp as broken glass.

Dante didn’t reply.

“I said get back in there, Dante.”

Darodrey said, “No.”

“What.” The accent of the city made their voice flat and vicious. They turned their gaze to the dæmon.

The one without a soul, she thought.

“He hates this,” Darodrey said. She looked back at Dante, her eyes fathoms deep, gleaming starlike. “We hate this.”

“Liar!” June snapped. Drey laid back her ears. “You can be sweet with your boys as much as you like, you can pretend to be a husband and a friend, but this is you. This is what you were made to do, and you enjoy it.” A snarl twisted their voice.

Dante stood still for a terribly long time. An eternity, hanging in the faint drizzle, printed in stinging flesh. Jesse would call it a postcard moment. He knew it would never leave him, even when it was nothing more than a memory.

June let their words sink in in silence, their nails biting red crescents into their own palms.

Then Dante pushed off from the wall and it was a horribly efficient, broken motion. He straightened, wiped the beading rain from his face with one bloodstained hand. He didn’t look at June, nor Darodrey, but as he turned back to the den she moved with him, closer than his shadow. The roar and the heat thundered through the door to welcome them both.

June was left standing in the alley alone.

“This will ruin them,” Thyne said. It shifted where it hid tucked behind their breast pocket, wings fluttering in the place of their heartbeat.

They said nothing.

#Drey is a Hmong docked tail dog #and Thyne is a shrike #my writing #Dante #June #my OCs #I'm so fucking proud of this asdfghjkl #......... sigh. #long post #look at me actually trying to edit something for once lmao

[givemequeen]

come with me ; john x reader

request: Rough, hot and heavy 70s john smut // Could you maybe make a full one shot of the John learning you how to mastubade one?? // Older john x younger reader 😳 a/n: fuck im starting to love John more. also i searched at he moved to NY in 1971. first to “to St. Regis Hotel before they transitioned to Greenwich Village and eventually, the Dakota,” but YOLO lets make them live in the Dakota because i feel like it L. that gif tho, got a bit carried away with this one 😳 (SCROLL DOWN FOR CREDITS!) pairing: 70s!john x reader summary: John’s leaving tonight and you’re not seeing him for another week. after a bit of teasing in the balcony that leads to sex you ask John how you will survive without him which leads to him finding out you have never masturbated. warnings: sex!! masturbating (fingering), hand job year: 1971 word count: 1939

You’d met John when you were just starting out as a music photographer in 1969 right before The Beatles broke up. He had gotten your number after you photographed them for a magazine and you two hit it off from there. The two of you had been dating for a little over a year by now and you loved him very much. At first, it had been hard, the pressure of the press was hard dating a Beatle but it was even harder dating a Beatle at your age, you were 19 now but John was 30. You didn’t mind, not at all, but the press called you nasty stuff.

Things like “gold digger” and they insulted you daily. You told John not to get into a fight with the press but he had had enough. When the two of you were invited to the Dick Cavett show John used the time to call out the press and make sure it was known that the two of you loved each other and you weren’t with him for the money. 

Today after midnight, John was to leave for a tour and you would have to join him later since you had a couple of things to take care of before that. You were naked, laying on your shared bed with the balcony door’s wide open. A soft breeze was coming in, lifting the white curtains as they danced around in the wind. The white sheets were covering your bum, you had your legs kicking up and down, hand supporting your head’s weight and eyes trained on John.

Your boyfriend/husband was naked too, a cigarette in his hand. He was leaning against the railing of the balcony. John stamped out the cig once he finished smoking it and turned around to looked at you. He caught you staring but you didn’t bother turning around. Instead, you momentarily raised your eyebrows and so did he. “That’s a nasty habit John,” you told him in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Just one more,” he said as he lit yet another cig. You sighed and shook your head. John turned back around, smoke emerging from both his cigarette and his mouth. You rolled out of bed and pulled the covers with you to protect your body from prying eyes and the unfriendly wind. Lazily you wrapped your arms around John, covering him as well with the cover. You laid your head against his back, naked bodies pressing together.

“You shouldn’t be naked out here Johnny, you don’t know who’s watching,” you warned hugging him tightly.

“Sorry love.” he apologized.

“Give me a puff,” you asked peering from the side of his arm. He laughed and held out his cigarette.

“Isn’t it a nasty habit?” John teased.

“Oh shush, we’ve had worse habits.” you took a long puff and blew out the smoke. A dirty idea popped into your mind, your hand was currently resting on the middle of his stomach, both of the looped together to keep your hands from falling down. Your hand slithered lower until they found his cock, he jumped at your touch.

“What are ya doing?” he asked laughing slightly.

“Hmh? Me? Nothing...” you said as you stroked his length. John chuckled and tried pulling away but a moan stopped him. 

“Fuck,” John grunted moving his hips forward to please himself. The cigarette in his hand was forgotten, his other hand was holding the covers around him to prevent anyone from catching on to what was happening between the two lovers. You continued with your soft, teasing pace. Your fingers going over the tip and spreading his pre-cum all over his cock. Your other hand went to play with his balls making his legs buckle.

“Come on, cum for me baby.” you urged as you sped up. John stiffened and twitched as you pulled away. 

“What the fuck?” he asked turning around and dropping the cover.

“Come inside love and cum inside me,” you said walking backwards, your hand on his chest. John chuckled and closed the space between you. He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck while his hands went to your bare bum to support your weight. You squealed as he dropped you on the bed and propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched him slip inside of you. A happy sigh left your lips and you fell back down.

John hovered above of you examining your face before he came to a conclusion. “You’re beautiful,” he announced. “And intelligent too.” he added before you could say “don’t compliment my face, compliment my brain”. You smiled and pulled him down for a kiss, he knew you so well.

“Fuck me, Lennon,” you said digging your heels into his lower back.

“All you had to do was ask.” he cockily said pulling out of you and slamming right back in. You moaned loudly, your fingers pulling on his hair. John kept at it, he set a brutally fast pace fucking you. The whole bed was shaking and you were honestly scared it would collapse. 

“Fuck John!” you screamed holding onto him for dear life.

“Ye like that? Huh, babe? Like it when I fuck ye hard? I’m going to fuck ye so hard ye won’t be able to walk for a week.” he grunted going even faster and harder. “Yer so tight love.” you were getting close to your end and his talking only made you cum faster. Your whole body shook as you cummed all over his cock. His movements got sloppier and he was ready to cum.

“Where do yer want me?” he asked.

“Inside, I’m on the pill John.” you chuckled kissing him softly. He smiled and kissed you back. His head fell to your shoulder as he filled you with his cum. Once he was done he slipped out and fell to your side pulling you closely.

“What will I do without you this week?” you asked him as you traced patterns on his chest.

“Masturbate?” John answered as though it was obvious. You blushed deeply and sat up reaching for your clothes. John reached for you, touching your lower back. “What’s wrong love?” he asked scared he had somehow fucked something up.

“I- I just... I’ve never masturbated before...” you admitted rubbing your arm and looking down. John sat immediately and turned to look at you but you were looking the other way. He reached for your cheek and gently redirected your view so you were looking at him.

“Never?” he asked in shock.

“Yeah...” you mumbled quietly.

“Do you want me to teach you?” his hand went from your cheek to your hip. His comment made you blush, forming a cheeky smirk on his face. You didn’t even have control of your body, your head just nodded. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Let’s do this.” he stood up and took your hand. “Sit down in front of the mirror.” you eyed him but followed his order.

He sat behind you, your bodies pressed tightly together. John opened your legs and placed his feet in front of yours to keep your legs open. You gulped and looked at John’s face, it was right next to your ear. He kissed your cheek, his mouth hanging open, and turned to you. “Look at yourself love.” you stared at him and did not change your line of sight. “If you want to do this you are going to have to follow my rules,” he warned. You nodded and turned to look at yourself. “Look at all of yourself,” he added. Your eyes fell to the area between your wide opened legs.

“Good girl, now touch yourself.” you placed your fingers there and silently gasped. “Here let me guide you.” his hand travelled from your knees, down your thigh and on top of yours. You shivered at his touch and tried to remain focused. John aligned his fingers with yours and started rubbing your clit. You moaned, your head falling back and John stopped as he tutted. “Look at yourself love, or I stop,” he warned. You gulped and nodded.

“Sorry sir,” you said knowing the effect it had on him and you sure felt it against your lower back. He kissed your neck before continuing with his lesson. 

“There’s time for that later, first I have to teach you, love.” John began rubbing your clit faster. “See, over here is the best spot to start off, just rubbing it.” you nodded and watched his fingers do the work. “You try.” he loosened his grip and let you try out. You rubbed circles the same way he did and moaned slightly. “Next, you have to slip a finger inside.” he lined his fingers once more and slipped a finger of your and his inside of you.

“Fuck John.” you moaned as he pumped the fingers in and out of you.

“You pump them, see? And then you add another.” he pushed two more fingers, one of his and one of yours, inside of you making you gasp loudly. You swore his name and felt yourself tensing. “Now, you explore with your fingers, curling them and moving them.” he demonstrated the technique inside of you. “And when you find the spot...” John had your fingers deep inside of you, he touched the one spot that made your whole body shake. “There it is.” he chuckled. “Now you keep going at it there and rubbing your clit until you cum.”

You nodded showing you understood and maintained your line of sight, your eyes nailed on your entrance. Even though it was blocked more view by two hands you did not want to risk John pulling away. His mouth went to your neck leaving sloppy kisses everywhere until you came with a loud cry of his name. He pulled his hands and yours away once you were done. “Lick,” he said sticking his fingers by your mouth. You looked at him through the mirror and licked your fingers and his clean.

“Fucking shit yn, come with me tonight. Fuck everything else, you’re dating me, no one can touch you,” he said spinning you around. You went on your knees, your arms going around his neck. With a chuckle you reached down to kiss him and moved to straddle him, his hands went to your lower back pulling you close.

“That’s the issue, I want to build a name for myself and be known as more than just John Lennon’s girlfriend/wife,” you said pushing his hair back, your hands falling behind his neck.

“I take it back then but please come with me? I dunno what I’m going to do without you for a whole week. Without your smile, your laugh, your everything.” he complained.

“I’ve got you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?” you teased. “Completely whipped for me,” you added opping the p’s. John blushed and looked down, burying his head between your breasts. 

You felt his boner pressing on your thigh and raised your body so he could slip in. “Fuck, thanks.” John raised his head and gave you his best puppy eyes. You circled your hips and thought about it as you stared out the window into space, you could, after all, push the meetings for when you came back. Plus photographing John Lennon’s first solo tour would be a huge opportunity. 

“If you’re still thinking about work, I’m doing something wrong.” chuckled John pulling your attention back to him.

“Sorry love,” you said as you kissed him. “Fuck it, I’ll go.” you agreed making him cheer. 

CREDITS FOR THE GIF:

i cannot find the original link but it was on @casafrass​ ‘s blog. i did post it on pinterest tho: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/723179652650180739/

tag list;

@thebeatleswritings​  @beatlevmania​  @i-love-queen-3000​  @brians-metaphor26​ @honimello​  @julessworldd​  @storiesfrommirkwood​  @beatles-babee​ @geostarr​ @thiccjelly17​  @crab-king-69​  @in-the-frap-of-the-gods​  @psychosupernatural​ @fiesta-freddie​  

#john lennon #john lennon x reader #john lennon smut #john lennon fluff #john lennon imagine #john lennon one shot #john lennon blurb #the beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles smut #the beatles fluff #the beatles imagine #the beatles one shot #the beatles blurb

[glowstickhaloboy]

y’all were really kind to take my personality quiz based on characters from my unpublished novel, so i thought maybe i’d drop the prologue? I realize that’s a whole different ask tho, and a bunch more time to sit down and read, so don’t feel obligated! but if you are interested and want to see what i’m working on, i’d appreciate it immensely <33

it’ll start beneath the cut

prologue—

July 7th, 2008

 Stars are large.

That is one of the first unlikely truths a child learns. They just look small, ardently burning themselves to death billions of miles out of reach.

And Peter looked small, too, as he jammed his skinny body through the middle of an old, juddering tire swing. The swing was the only thing in Uncle Miller’s backyard that the animated little blond boy could play with without needing the help of his imagination. Even at his own house, Peter was accustomed to stick-swords and tree stump obstacle races. A real toy was a novelty. He almost didn’t feel he was allowed.

Once inside, Peter waddled as far back as he could, then paused, possessed by an odd, un-childlike patience. The phrase be good was internalized in him. Wait a little longer, enjoy a fuller reward. Be good. Sit still. Be good. Whenever he visited his grandparents’ old house, however, his uncle purposely turned him loose. Peter became a downright flare of energy. His young, green muscles could not cling tight enough to the tire rubber.

All at once, with a deep breath and a spring of his knees, Peter let the world go. 

The sky pitched backward and forward, whooshing by as he clutched his tether. Every faraway star streaked by in perfectly straight, mesmerizing lines of white. Cold wind. Insect noises. Washed out yellow light spilling down the hill from the windows of the house. A young boy’s pumping heart big enough to fit the world inside and understand it, and understand itself, and all without a word, all with his breath held tight…

He dragged heel marks into dirt dry as cocoa powder, withdrawing from the tire as soon as he had the legs to, and flopped backward into bony summer grass. He ignored the impulse to rip fistfuls out, instead just holding the clumps absently in the sweaty gaps between his fingers, filing away its quiet hum of life. Memorizing. He realized he had missed it.

The rest of the long lawn sloped lazily off, like a map unraveling down a staircase. At the base of the hill stood all the trees of Parchdack. The same ones here lined countless other backyards. They bound the distance between parks and sports fields. They married crumbling fast food restaurants to an iron-gated cemetery. The heart of the town Peter had come to think of as home: everywhere and always right here.

He was so satisfied in his solitude, he’d failed to notice something was wrong, something obvious: one bright star swam adrift in the purpled dusk sky, a wandering flake of yellow ash. 

It was dropping down. Coming closer. It was not very large at all.

The starflake did not blink or dim. Its arhythmic, bug-like bobbing—the way it changed course if it floated too close to a tree or seemed to want to stay within sight of the yard—gave the impression it was aware of its surroundings.

Peter stared. Every thought approached slowly, shyly.

Maybe it was a shooting star? Those would have to land somewhere, after all. Or maybe it was a special small star, undiscovered up until now because small stars were clever and dodged out of the way of NASA’s telescopes. Maybe it was something that knew Peter by magic. Maybe it was going to let him make a wish, a reward for being a good kid.

The starflake drew nearer. Peter, not scared in the slightest, hopped up to look it in the eye. Since it still seemed like it was just light, looking at it should have hurt. But it didn’t. And, it was the strangest thing, but Peter thought he could sense what it was thinking. It certainly wasn’t his own sadness he felt. He felt excited, fascinated, greedy. A miracle of his very own!

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered encouragingly, trying to gain its trust.

The starflake hovered as if troubled. Then it... whispered. It whispered his same words back to him in an airy, miserable rasp: “Don’t be afraid.”

The previously summery wind blew distinctly cold on Peter’s bare arms, re-awakening his senses. He could feel the very straightness of his spine. His eyes stung with tears from not blinking, and a misplaced thought wandered to the forefront of his mind: did they reflect gold?

The thought of calling for his uncle did not occur. The regular world had fallen away.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Peter said, then paused to seriously consider. If this creature could talk, albeit stiltedly, what else might it be capable of? But it was too late now. The thing’s attention was fully on him—and this time, when it spoke, its words seemed to be its own. 

“Don’t… give up… on me…”

Peter’s heart winced with confusion and sympathy. He was reminded of his mother’s shoes clicking sharp on the floor after a bad day at work. Of nights when she gave one-word answers and passed the hours smoking cigarettes in her bedroom. If Peter was extra good, if he cracked a joke to cheer her up, if he sat quiet and unobtrusive—she didn’t lose the anger, exactly, but she might make the effort for one smile. Peter had gotten good at paying attention to even the smallest cues, always quick to find the right thing to say, to do, to be.  Even now, he was sure he just had to figure out what the starflake needed to be happy again.

The starflake’s light was fading little by little as it slipped closer to the ground, its descent sagging like a man overburdened. Peter’s hand jerked forward on instinct, but he held back. What if it wasn’t safe—for his sake, or for its? Like how you shouldn’t touch moths’ wings. 

It did not matter. Seeing Peter’s outstretched hand, the creature dove madly into his palm.

And it scalded! Peter flung the creature away on instinct, even if he felt shame as he did. The creature was hurt, panicking… But his hand burned with this heat unlike any pain he’d ever endured before. It had happened so fast. He gasped and managed to keep some air down, watching as an angry red welt bubbled up in the space where his thumb jutted out of his palm. The creature, growing darker by the second, sank smoking into the grass.

With just enough presence of mind to contain the damage to one hand, Peter hastily lunged for it, snatching the creature between two fingers. In the single second before his screaming nerves forced him to let go, he all but threw the dying starflake on top of the tire swing. There its light pulsed weakly, like a wounded chest weathering its last lungfuls of air. 

The rubber tried to burn, but only produced an acrid smell. Peter, meanwhile, stifled his sobs and rocked over the inflamed tips of his fingers, blowing on them to ease the pain. He’d earned three fierce burns: one from catching it, and two from pinching it.

The light went out unceremoniously while Peter was not looking.

It left no remains beyond an inch of mutilated rubber, which tomorrow would look like nothing more than a random blotch on a piece of junk. And Peter’s hand would be okay, too, because injuries healed with time. 

Again, the thought of telling Uncle Miller went ignored. Peter was a good kid who never started trouble or stressed anybody out. He was fine, and it was finished now anyway. It would just be a secret, that was all. Soon, Peter would be the only one able to read the signs that anything strange had ever happened there.

#writes #the adventures of angel kid boy #yes i know i have a thousand versions of the prologue and chapter 1 and what have you saved in this tag #but this is the real one seriously #THIS TIME I MEAN IT #AND if you DO read it #and you DO want to reblog it #the for the record i am okay with that #okay bye

[slytherinbangchan]

Badboy!Hyunjin!(Gang!Au)Pt1

This is only part 1 out of ?? of Hyunjin’s. And the first member of the au.

Gang!Au!Masterlist –> I explain it better there.

All 9 members will be part of this series. I’d recommend to read every member by the posting order not to lose any detail of it~

<<Blog’s masterlist>>

A reminder that I’m leaving for Monsta X’s concert. So I’ll see your texts when I’m back~ 💖

Pairing: HyunjinxFemReader

Word count: 1.4K

-There's this guy in your group of friends.

-It hasn't been a long time since you're going out with them.

-I guess you could say they're not the best influence to anyone.

-But besides that they're nice.

-I mean, if you take away the shoplifting etc...

-It's not like you're the best either.

-You've missed more school than you can count.

-That without taking into account they kicked you out for a while for setting fire to the chemistry lab.

-But it get's so boring there in school.

-You don't wanna be bored the best years of your life.

-But back to this guy, Hyunjin.

-He is in some of your classes but he was smoking on the back of your highschool when he saw you sneaking out after the fire.

-He thought it was hilarious you did that.

-So he introduced you to the guys and they took you in immediately.

-They were 9 before you arrived.

-Some of them have girlfriends for what you know. Some of them don't.

-It's not like you were looking for a boyfriend or anything?

-But as days passes you become more and more fond of them.

-Specially Hyunjin.

-You sneaking out at night to go steal some drinks.

-'What did you get?' He asks, smiling.

-You show him a little bottle of vodka and he pulls out some rum from his jacket.

-You smile back at him. 'Where are the others by the way?

-'I told them to go ahead first'. He laughs. 'Jisung and Chan grabbed ice cubes and some ice cream so...'

-You laugh too. 'I see'

-'I think they took too many bottles tho. We could have grabbed something else to eat instead'.

-'I bet neither of them took a vodka one. And I wasn't leaving without it'.

-He chuckles. 'I know, Everything else is too sweet for you'.

-'Nah, whisky is fine'.

-You shouldn't be drinking at all anyway.

-There's a place near the river where people don't go.

-And they don't cause you guys hang out there a lot.

-When you arrive there with Hyunjin the guys have already set everything into place.

-And they're just drinking and smoking.

-And chatting, and laughing.

-And having so much fun just by doing that.

-Just talking about the music they like.

-Or just about what store are they going tomorrow.

-Jisung and Changbin are talking about some girl.

-Little by little Seungmin is transforming into the clingy drunk he is with Jeongin.

-You're looking at Hyunjin as he pours your drinks.

-A gentle breeze shaking your hair.

-Bringing the smell of the grass and the water.

-And just at that moment you feel lucky for being there.

-As simple as it sounds.

-The only thing you want right now is to dive into those feelings and make sure you'll never forget how good just being there with the guys feels.

-'y/n' Hyunjin is trying to hand you a cup.

-'Oh, yeah thanks'. You say, taking a sip.

-The yellow glow from the streetlights at the top of the bridge.

-The burning red end on Hyunjin's cigarette.

-'Wanna go to the movies tomorrow?' He asks. 'Jisung wanted to watch some haunted psychiatric movie or something like that'.

-'A horror movie?' You raise a brow and take another sip of your drink.

-'Yeah, I can hold your hand if you're afraid'. He smirks.

-You almost choke. 'Yeah, no thanks. I'll be fine'. The guys laugh at Hyunjin after that.

-'So mean y/n. You made the guys laugh at me'. He pouts.

-You laugh too. 'I'm sorry'.

-You keep drinking and chatting for another while.

-Ending up so drunk.

-You fall asleep between Hyunjin and Changbin just there in the grass.

-Then run to your house at 6am.

-Hyunjin comes along.

-'You sure you can climb back to your room? Aren't you drunk?'

-'I'm ok idiot'. You kinda hug him but not really cause you're not ''there'' yet.

-'See you later. And you're the idiot'.

-You laugh. 'Just go before anyone sees you'.

-He shows you the finger while walking backwards as he leaves.

-Did he really have to stick out his tongue like that too?

-You sleep for what it feels like forever and then go take a shower.

-Your phone buzzing as you're choosing an outfit.

-Not like you have a lot of different clothes.

-It's all black, and red and tartan skirts and fake leather and creepers.

-The guys are talking on the group chat.

-You're meeting in an hour.

-It's actually kinda early for an horror movie.

-But they want to go drink after.

-At the movies you come across some other guys.

-You know some of them from school.

-They're a bit older than you.

-This is when you learn there's some kind of rivalry between your gang and theirs.

-So the guys carrying knifes around was something serious after all.

-You thought they just wanted to brag.

-You should have known better.

-They're cute and everything.

-But they're dangerous too.

-Luckily after some glares the other guys leave.

-You see Bangchan whispering something to Jisung and Changbin.

-They nod and go away.

-You won't see them again until you're seated and the movie has started.

-Jisung sits next to Bangchan to whisper something again.

-You have no idea what's going on.

-But you can't stop looking at them.

-'y/n'. Hyunjin whispers to you. 'You're missing the movie'. He says, grabbing some popcorn from you.

-'Sorry, Bangchan and...'

-'I know'. He says. 'Stay out of that'.

-You don't say anything back.

-You don't know what to say anyway.

-After a while you get so into the movie you forget about all that.

-You look at Hyunjin's hand by the corner of your eye.

-He left it in the armrest for you to hold it.

-Should you do it?

-Why not?

-He's your friend, right?

-He makes you feel things too but he doesn't have to know that.

-Also you're not sure what those feelings are.

-Cause his personality and yours are just a perfect match.

-But maybe it's just a friend thingy?

-If you grab his hand maybe you'll know.

-Omg, but how in the world are you gonna do that?

-He'll tease you about it for weeks.

-Idiot. He told you about holding his hand first.

-And he left it right there for you.

-You're internally pulling your hair in desperation.

-Guess what?

-The movie ended and you didn't hold his hand.

-You're kinda dissapointed on yourself.

-But anyway he doesn't seem any different.

-You go with the guys to the usual spot.

-This time you sit under the bridge against the wall.

-Hyunjin at your right pulling strings from his denim as you all wait for Woojin to bring out the drinks.

-Jeongin and the rest at your left.

-You can barely see his face cause the sun is right behind him.

-But he's laughin nonstop at the guys jokes.

-Woojin finally pours the drinks and they pass them along.

-As you drink your first cup the sunlight gets a darker yellow shade.

-And it's painting Hyunjin with it's colors so beautifully.

-It's not like you're drunk already.

-But you're not thinkin that clearly anymore.

-You're looking at Hyunjin's hand resting on the floor.

-And you can't help but feel an imperious need to just hold it.

-Your hand is moving on it's own will anyway.

-Your fingers making some room on his palm for the rest of your hand.

-He turns his head quickly to look at what you're doing then he looks at your eyes.

-You're looking at him too.

-He chuckles. 'What are you doing?' He asks.

-You let his hand go and blush.

-'What was that about?' He chuckles again.

-'Nothing'. You're so flustered right now.

-You can deny what just happened all you want but he sure knows by know how whipped you are for him.

-You were practically drooling at his touch.

-He smirks. 'C'mon y/n'.

-You kiss him suddenly.

-'Omg y/n you like Hyunjin?' Jisung asks from the other end of the group.

-'What? No, I kissed him to prove he likes me!'

-And you don't know why but that made sense somehow in your head.

-'That makes no sense at all y/n', Minho says.

-But Hyunjin is smiling.

-And for some reason you kiss him again.

-And again.

-And everytime you do so he's more and more into it.

-Until you just keep kissing nonstop for a while.

-His hands pulling you closer without breaking the kiss.

-'Welp. Guess she was right after all'. Bangchan says as he raises his cup and takes a sip.

-The rest of the guys nod and do the same as the leader.

Part2

#Hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids imagines #series #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin smut #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #headcanon #bullet scenario #bulleted scenario #gang au

[nastyboyluke]

ARE YOU OK? - calum hood

words: 1.2k

warnings: curse words & mentions of drugs

based off ARE YOU OK? by daniel caesar

“are you ok?”

he looked at her with this gaze. he didnt even really hear what she said but whatever it was, it made him giggle a little.

“calum? whats wrong with you?”

“nothin’” he answered. “im perfectly fine.”

she gave him a concerned look before staring at the bottles scattered across the house and even some drugs. she looked back at calum, shaking her head.

“you’re crying.”

“no im not, you are.” he smiled. however, there were tears streaming his cheeks. she was the girl that broke his heart and she thought she could come up into his house and simply ask: are you ok?

a sigh left the girls lips, running her fingers through her hair before picking up empty bottles. calum watched her carefully before picking up the bottle of beer he was currently working on and taking a sip from it.

“is this all you’ve done since i’ve been gone?” she called from the kitchen, throwing the bottles in a trash bag.

“maybe.” he answered quietly, pushing himself off the couch to follow her.

she dropped the trash bag, standing in front of him. her eyes were warm, comforting. and so was her touch. she brought her hand up to his cheek, her skin baby soft and still smelt of the perfume he bought her ages ago in paris.

“calum, this needs to stop. its not healthy, mentally and physically.”

he shrugged, chuckling a little. “i seem pretty okay.”

“well its not..” she replied, her eyes getting watery. she pulled and it made him sad seeing her sad. she turned away from him, continuing to pick up more bottles, sniffling a little every few seconds.

“i miss you y/n,” calum spoke up. “come back.”

she scoffed, dropping the bag again, leaning against the counter looking at him. “calum we can’t work if you’re like this. and correct me if i’m wrong, but you’re the one that fucked up; going around and messing with women behind my back.” she spat, biting down on her lip quickly after. calum frowned, walking over to her, arms wrapping around her.

“i told you i’m sorry..”

“yeah will sorry doesn’t always fix things.” she mumbled, pressing her cheek against his chest even tho she wanted to punch him at the same time.

“stay the night,” he whispered. “please, baby.”

her stomach did a little flip at the pet name, her arms squeezing his sides. sighing, she nodded stiffly before pulling away to go back to cleaning up the house a little. while she did so, calum wandered back to the couch, just gazing into space. it wasn’t until she finished cleaning, she sat next to him.

“when was the last time you showered?”

“i dunno, a few days ago?” he shrugged, grabbing his pack of cigarettes, pulling out a cancer stick and shoving it between his chap lips, lighting it.

however, he didn’t get to smoke it for long as she grabbed it from of his mouth and putting out in the ashtray full of old ashes and cigarette buds. “go shower.”

“but i dont wanna,” he groaned, still getting up anyways. she pointed toward the bathroom, calum sighing as he went.

while calum stood in the shower, the hot water trickling down his back as he stared at his feet, sighing. he knew his actions were wrong. he knew that the reason they fell apart was him. yet he still pretended to ignore it just so it didn’t hurt him even more than it already did.

once he was cleaned and washed, he stepped out, drying off and putting on fresh clothes before walking out to see her sitting on the couch still. when she heard his footsteps, she turned and looked up at him.

as much as she didn’t want to miss the maori boy, she still cared about him dearly. she missed waking up to seeing him smile, the smell off his cologne that stuck to every article of clothing he owned & driving around town at stupid hours in the night.

“don’t you feel better?” she gave him a small smile.

“nope.” he sadly smiled back at her.

“c’mon cal,” she sighed. “quit being like this.”

“being like what? depressed?” he shot her a look before looking at the coffee table. a cigarette or a blunt? he chose the one that made him feel the most numb.

just as earlier, he lit the blunt, letting the smoke fill his body before letting the thick smoke fall past his lips as he fell back on the couch. she watched him do this and she just felt anger bubble inside her.

“quit fucking being like this calum!” she finally snapped, making him jump. “you act like you havent done shit, when it was all you. to be honest, i wouldn’t even be here unless it was for ashton because you wanna know why?” she leaned forward, tears building up in her pretty eyes. “because i knew you were such a mess and it hurts me to see you like this. but i did it anyways because i care about you but how can i help you when you cant even care for yourself?”

calum saw a tear slip from her eyes as she got up and wandered somewhere in his house but didnt know where. a lump began to build up in his throat, now realizing he has once again messed up hurting his girl. he sat there for a minuet or two before getting up and looking for her, calling out her name.

there was no answer. but he heard her.

when he pushed open the door to his bedroom, he saw her, sitting on his sheets, crying and wiping her eyes. calums heart was racing and he felt so bad for hurting her. for hurting them.

slowly, he stepped forward, sitting in front of her, putting her chin up. she looked at him with her glossy eyes as she looked back at his bloodshot ones. while he continued to gaze at her, calum brought his hand up to her cheek, causing her to lean into it, his thumb running across her skin.

“are you ok?” he asked her this time. she shook her head, letting out a sob, shutting her eyes as tears fell into the palm of his hand.

calum knew it was a stretch but, his other hand held her face, kissing her lips. everything felt gentle. the way he held her pretty face in his hands, the way his lips molded with her own, even his breathing. he felt as if he was on a high. but one that was different than one he normally felt and he was pretty sure she felt it too because she melted at his touch.

she leaned backward, letting herself fall onto his pillow as he hovered over her, reconnecting with their lips, causing a soft moan to slip from his girl at the feeling. he pulled from her lips, kissing her jaw, her shoulders and down her arms to her hands before back to her mouth.

she was no longer crying but her heart was beating out of her chest. in that moment, she felt a little bit more than okay, being taken to back to old memories and stolen kisses when the two weren’t so toxic.

“calum,” she whispered, pulling and opening her eyes. he looked at her, eyes sparkling, looking for a glimmer of hope for the two of them. maybe they can learn to love each other again. maybe they’ll be okay. maybe they can he happy again.

“i cant do this.”

and just like that, he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces like the first time.

#5sos #calum hood #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos writing #calum 5sos #calum hood blurb #calum hood writing #calum hood imagine #calum x reader #calum hood smut

[red-pill-blue-pill]

Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat. John Wick. Part 2.

How would you feel if you discovered there’s an underworld filled with assassins? 

Warnings: light smut, lil angsty. 

Word count: 2050

Tags: @voidnarnia

Part 1

She sighed and sunk into the restaurant chair. Winston sipped his wine while his eyes scanned her face, trying to read her thoughts. He gave her a couple of minutes to process everything. A couple of minutes that she really needed. Her head was going a hundred miles an hour, rushing through her memories trying to connect the, until then invisible, dots. Her chest hurt at the thought of her beloved uncle paying some assassin to get rid of her. She couldn’t even understand why. It couldn’t be because of money, she lived in a small apartment with two roommates and she worked as a waitress to pay the rent and the art course she was taking at a small school. On top of that, her uncle owned a well known airline and it had been years since they last talked. It just didn’t make any sense. 

She ran a sweaty hand through her hair. “I- I gotta go.” she stood up, almost knocking the table down, the water from her glass splashing everywhere. Her head was dizzy but she walked towards the lobby anyway. White blotches came and went behind her eyes, her vision diminished as she stumbled on her way to the elevator. She needed to lay down, drink some water and clear her head. She slammed against someone, her bruised cheek hit a shoulder and she let out a pained groan. “Son of a-” she closed her eyes, her hand flying to her face to soothe the sore spot. Suddenly, she lost her balance and she felt herself falling backwards just as two arms grabbed her shoulders. “Hey, are you okay?”

“No, no, no. Not like this. Not him.” she felt her face grow red from embarrassment as she opened her eyes and stared into his brown ones. The white blotches blinded her completely as she felt her senses shutting off, her body heavy, then nothing.

__

She opened her eyes slowly, her head throbbing. “God damn it I forgot to take the pills.” Her throat let out a grunt as she sat up on the bed. How did she get there? It definitely was her room, her purse was hanging from the back of the chair and her shoes were scattered on the floor. She looked around and she yelped when she saw a black figure standing behind her, rapidly recognizing the long hair and suit. “It’s me.” his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Now she knew what he was, what he did.

“I know.” it came way too hostile than she'd intended and he was taken aback by her tone. She stood up, circling her way around the room to the bathroom, staying as far from him as possible. 

“How are you feeling?” he said as he sat on her bed while he watched her, noting her weird attitude.

“I’m fine.” she opened the bathroom cupboard where she kept her meds.

“You didn���t seem fine.”

Silence filled the room. John finally realized what was wrong.

“Did Winston tell you?”

She felt her heart speed up. “Yes.” It was the only thing that came out. Clear and concise. 

“You’re scared of me, right?” 

“I’m scared of every single person that’s in this hotel right now.” she raised her voice slightly, enough for John to understand how difficult this was for her. “I can’t believe this whole world exists. I can’t believe someone wanted to kill me. This is like the worst nightmare ever.” she huffed as she tried to suppress the tears that were about to fall. “I’m terrified.”

She was, she really was. She didn’t know why she was telling this to a complete stranger. A stranger that killed people. For starters, what was she doing there, in that hotel filled with assassins? She put her shoes on and picked her purse. Before he could say anything, the door opened and her figure dissappeared through it. 

She rushed down the stairs, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. John ran after her. She passed Charon in the lobby muttering a fast goodbye. Just as she was about to get to the street he grabbed her arm, yanking her backwards, his grip dug into her flesh. She screamed in surprise and he turned her around. “Listen to me, I know you’re stressed, I know this is new for you but if you step one foot outside that door you’re dead.” his tone was stern, she remained silent. “I mean it. Whoever did that to you yesterday is going to find you again and end what he started.” he loosened the grip around her arm when he felt her relax, her breathing getting slower. His features softened and so did his voice “can you, please, come back upstairs?” he asked, pleading her. She took a deep breath and slowly nodded, following him back to her room. 

__

A soft knock on her door caught her attention and she opened the door to find John waiting. She stepped to the side with a small smile, inviting him in and closing the door. She walked into the bathroom and stepped outside, this time with a comb in her hands. He had been gone for a couple hours after he 

“I never got to introduce myself properly.” Her hair was damp and she was combing it softly, her head slightly tilted to the side. “I’m y/n” she put her arm out, her hand stretched. “That’s a cute name. I’m John.” he shook her hand, the contact sent a jolt of electricity up their arms and they both smiled.

She tried to push everything to the back of her mind for the moment. She was exhausted from worrying, from overthinking. The shower had helped her relax, the steam still lingered on the bathroom mirror.

"So, are you still scared of me?" He asked with low chuckle trying to make the best of a terrible situation. "You can't kill me in this hotel so I'd say I'm not. It's still weird tho." She walked back into the bathroom and she spoke, this time raising her voice so he could hear her "I mean you look like a really nice guy but then I think about what you do and it's like woah, he kills people." He laughed at her comment, the sound bouncing around the room. “But I don’t kill innocent people. I only do that to the bad guys.” She switched the bathroom light off as she walked out and sat on the bed, a smile on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry, then you must be the nice guy I thought you were."

__

The night flew by while bourbon made its way though their systems. At first slowly, burning their throats as it made its way down, but by 2am the bottle was almost empty, their throats not burning anymore, both John and her laying on the bed laughing about stupid stuff. John had removed his jacket and his shoes and she was in her pajamas. The air around them was charged with electricity but they made their best to ignore it. Each time arms brushed and eyes met in a fit of laughter her stomach filled with butterflies. His scent was now a mix of alcohol and cologne with a subtle hint of cigarette smoke, and maybe it was the bourbon running through her veins but she just wanted to rip his clothes off and feel his skin against hers. 

Just then, as if he could read her thoughts, his hand ghosted over hers, a caress that was enough for her to reach out and intertwine her fingers with his. He squeezed it lightly and turned to look at her, a smile still on his face. He admired her profile, her eyes closed while humming at the sensation of their skin finally making contact, even if it was as small as that.

She opened her eyes and turned, she caught him looking at her. She tried to read his thoughts but there was some kind of emptyness behind them, something that made them unreadable. She scooted closer to him and propped herself up on her elbow, her head hovering over his. He could still smell the shampoo on the strands of hair that fell over his face and he smiled when they tickled his cheek, her hair soft like silk. She leaned down, their breaths mixed as he raised his left hand to run it through her hair.

He closed the distance between them. Their lips met softly, a small peck before they leaned down again. He bit hungrily at her lower lip, letting go of her hand and pulling at her body so that she could straddle him. Teeth clashed and tongues danced while their hands explored eachother's bodies, their sloppy kisses only interrupted when he pulled her shirt off and she did the same to him. John sat up, y/n still straddling him. Her hands were all over his hair, pulling and caressing it. They went down his neck to his shoulders, scratching the sensitive skin and making him moan against her mouth.

Their lips parted and they looked at eachother, eyes filled with lust and a hint of uncertainty. They both wanted to do this but this wasn't the right timing. He felt like he was taking advantage of her, being in the vulnerable state that she was, and she needed to get over this by herself. Her hands travelled back to his face, she ran her thumb over his lips and he closed his eyes as he kissed it softly. "I understand." He half slurred, alcohol still in his system. She kissed him softly again, lifting herself off his lap and sitting on the bed. He moved to grab his discarded sweater and his shoes. "I think it's better if I leave." he whispered, somehow scared that she would hear him and confirm it. As he sat on the edge of the bed she came up behind him. A finger ran throught his back tattoos sending a shiver down his body that was now covered in goosebumps. "I never knew you had tattoos." she said softly "what do they mean?" He tensed up a little at the question. "You could say they make me feel part of something. I'll tell you the story another day." he sighed remembering his times at the Ruska Roma. "and what does that phrase say?" she traced the letters slowly with her finger. "Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat" She read to herself. "The strong ones, Fortune helps." He said. She stayed silent, scanning his back and noticing some scars that decorated it along with the ink. A sense of protection washed over her as she hugged him from behind, her arms sneaked around his waist and her head rested on his shoulder. Her naked chest was flush with his back. Skin on skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

After a few seconds she finally spoke "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For leading you on. I just realized I need to do this on my own. It's going to be difficult and I still got to figure out what I'm going to do. Using you to keep my mind off of it isn't a good idea." She let go of him and he turned around to look at her. "I mean, I still want to... you know. I think you're cute and you are a great kisser and I can't imagine how good you must be in be-"

"I get it." He said laughing loudly at her unstoppable rambling. "Don't worry. I kind of felt like I was taking advantage of you so we're good."

She smiled at him, her smile quickly fading when she thought of something "Wait, does this mean we won't be kissing anymore?" He cuckled again, his hand reaching out to cup her face "If it were up to me we would be kissing all day long."

He finished getting dressed and walked towards the door. Before John opened the door he turned to her "You're a strong woman. Not everyone could take all of this. I'm glad I met you." Before she could process what he had said the door closed, leaving her alone with her thoughts, that were filled with John.

Maybe fortune did help the strong.

#john wick #john wick imagine #john wick oc #john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick au #keanu reeves oneshot #my writing #john wick headcanon

[cryptidofthekeys]

Its another tf2 oc and im not ashamed

Let me break it down to y’all how this happened, so basically- I wanted a mafia-esque spy character but then my brain decided ok mafia mans is coolio BUT WHAT IF... t e n t a s p y mafia boss man? And voila here this fucker is

Name: Alphonse Blanchard | Titles/Nicknames: The Spy, Boss which usually his "partners" call him that, or just call him Alphonse, only ONE person can call him AL, anyone else tries it and well it wont be a very pleasant experience | Gender: Male | Species/Race: Used to be a normal human, now he's a Tentaspy- a m o n s t e r. | Age: 49s/50s | Occupation: Even tho he's got the title of The Spy n such- he's p much teechnically a Mafia Boss- b i g boss man for sure- | Height: When he was human he was about 5'7", but now he's 8'9" (nearly 9ft) | Eye Color: His eye color when he was human was a Steel Gray color, his eyes are now a Charcoal color (mostly for their meanings n stuff), his pupils are also slit ones now. | Hair Color: (even though most of his face except for his eyes and mouth are covered by a balaclava and you'd most likely never see him without his mask on, his hair color is black with grey streaks in the sides of it, however for the record- his hair is VERY tidy and slicked back) | Appearance: Now, not much changes tbh- except... he cant wear pants bc of the tentacles on his lower half but I'll get to those in a minute, he wears v e r y fancy and HIGHLY expensive suits, only the f i n e s t of clothing for him, usually he wears dark gray or black suits but he does have other colors- their just ALL dark colors, he likes the appeal of black or gray colors- and he d e f i n i t e l y loves the meaning behind them, they fit him so well... He also wears fedoras, he has some rings (you know the ones- the ones that some mafia characters or just big shots in general tend to wear- yeaah, his biggest ring and the one he usually wears has a skull on it-), and he of course has a circle beard, oh and he has a lot of scars both on his upper human body and his tentacles even, just- gettin that outta the way right quick- now onto his more monstrous features... For starters, let's get the simple one out of the way, he DOES have claws now, long sharp black claws to be more specific- his tentacles are pitch black on top with Smoke Gray tiger-like stripes going down them his underbelly is also Smoke Gray color- and oh boy... here's the most complex thing- his teeth, while all his teeth are p much bear trap teeth, his lateral incisors both top and bottom are longer kinda like vampire teeth or something like that ya know, his actual canines both top and bottom ones along with his first AND second premolars (again both the top ones AND the bottom ones are actually curved (kinda like an anaconda's in a way- p much- just- hooked teeth, perfect for hooking onto prey and not letting go if need be) | Personality: Oh b o y well, where to even begin with this motherfucker? He's narcissistic as hell "I k n o w I'm handsome, yes~" and god forbid you compliment him or anything- bc with e v e r y compliment, every good thing said about him his ego inflates and grows tenfold, even if you say bad shit about him- he don't give a fuck- as long as it doesn't affect his reputation then you'll be fine! He'll just pay no mind to petty insults or anything, at first- insults calling him a monster n anything similar bothered him, it made him feel sick every time someone had used those insults but now? Now... While he would MUCH prefer to have legs again (its honestly just bc its easier to walk around with legs than tentacles), he e m b r a c e s the fact he's a monster, he knows there's no reversing this, if there was- he would... he wouldn't go OUT of his way for it BUT he would at the very least TRY  to get his hands on whatever could cure this, ahem anyways- he's come to terms with what he is even if some things about it aren't... ideal... I wouldn't say he's EVIL really, he's more so a neutral unless provoked/attacked- t h e n he'll "take care" of whatever or whoever's causing the problem with NO mercy whatsoever, but other than that he can be a reasonable man, just don't piss him off, steal from him, etc- basically don't make enemies with him and you should be just fine, he isn't one for small talk or anything like that, he wants to talk business, business and m o n e y even, even if he is a fucking HIGHLY rich bastard, he always wants more- he's got a BIT of a greed streak in him for sure (that doesn't mean however he won't let others borrow money, he just expects them to pay it back in the end or sometimes... he'll use his money for ahem, undercover classified reasons...) He'll flirt with a n y o n e if they happen to catch his eye, not just ladies either- men, ladies, no gender? What the fuck ever, if he wants- he's GONNA flirt with anyone, even if it might not end in love or whatever, he doesn't? really? He doesn't really care tbh, love is alright and if it happens it happens but honestly- he's just a fucking flirty b i t c h, who loves to see that flustered look and get a reaction from the other, you'll never truly know... feelings? Maybe but probably not... (tl;dr: Flirty bitch- I wouldnt hold hopes for feelings, greed streak but isn't afraid to let others borrow money so long as they pay it back in the end- some things he uses it for are classified- p much [REDACTED] info, neutral unless provoked/attacked, no mercy nor care towards enemies- can and WILL wipe out every single one of his enemies without a single t r a c e being left behind, even tho he's a monster now and has a LOT more strength than a normal human, he still tends to use guns or knives but isn't afraid to use his monstrous features if need be, narcissistic bastardery at its finest- compliment him and watch his ego inflate! "Don't you want r e a l friends Alphonse and not just henchmen or lackeys?" "....Non, not in the slightest, absolutely disgusting to even ASSUME I need friends, I, myself am my best company, better than any friend could e v e r do" w o w- b a s t a r d energy there huh) | Side Facts: ...Truth be told, he won't e v e r forget the day he turned into... this... this t h i n g... Even if he's accepted his fate, even if he's accepted to be this monster, the memory still lingers and haunts him and his very dreams, he has nightmares about it, and its mostly due to the agonizing pain he felt d u r i n g his little "transformation", it happened one day- he was in his own medic's lab (yes, the bitch has his o w n doctor), it was a normal routine health check up his medic liked to do- the man was always harping onto Alphonse for that pesky smoking habit of his, but then suddenly, one of the rival- well, t h e y call themselves family- Alphonse only considers the people he hired to be henchmen, lackeys, OR- just employees for basic terms, but one of his rivals broke in and decided to open fire and of course, it turned into an all out gun war, Alphonse DID get shot- which is what caused him to stumble backwards into a shelf full of god knows what, after he bumped it, a few jars of weird substances had fallen onto him, after that he could feel his body twisting and contorting, he remembers the a g o n i z i n g pain he felt that day, it was worse than that mere gunshot wound that he had... Aside from the horrifying memory of what fate had befell him... He also remembers what he d i d to his little rivals... He remembers the mortified and terror-stricken look on their faces, all of them had ran- except for... their boss... so much for "family sticks together" huh, he remembers slithering over towards the boss, who- well, he tried to fire from the looks of it, but he was so terrified that he had dropped his gun, Alphonse had never seen such terror on a grown man's face like that, but he loved e v e r y. s e c o n d. until the very end, he doesn't remember what came over him in the end, maybe it was blind fury, or maybe it was just instincts, but after he did what he did... He remembers seeing the boss's head ripped off completely along with other limbs ripped off and flung across the room. Unfortunately, his suit was v e r y messy after that- He actually still keeps the boss's head preserved- almost like a t r o p h y in fact... ....Oh, your probably wondering what happened to his doctor, right? ....Well, I'll say is he's still out there, he didn't get killed- neither by the rivals nor Alphonse's instincts/fury, but truth be told... He doesn't REALLY wanna come back, he wants to stay hidden- I will say, yes- he DID see Alphonse transform, but after that he fled- part of him figured deep down that Alphonse would be v e r y angry with him since h e was technically the one who had those jars just sitting around on the shelf and he did NOT wanna stick around if that man was c r o s s with him... now whether or not Alphonse will ever encounter/find him again? ... Who knows- h e h ASIDE from all the backstory of why he turned into a Tentaspy, let's move onto things Alphonse just- likes to do in his spare time when he's not talking business n all that jazz- He usually smokes some of his cigarettes or cigars, he loves the cigars more though- he'll also do some reading in his spare time as well, or he'll listen to some calming music- sometimes he'll do all three, smoke, read, and listen to some calming music- he's not... the most exciting man, he's just usually busy- so when he's not- he'll just do those things- He'll SOMETIMES go outside and get some fresh air, usually its at night- not necessarily just bc there's l e s s people to worry about- but usually because he enjoys looking up and seeing the moonlight when its out, such a beautiful sight...

#tf2 oc #team fortress 2 oc #tf2 spy oc #mafia boss oc #gore warning #blood warning #my oc #tentaspy oc

[thenorthking1814]

Prompt requested by: @unadulteratedsquidbouquet

The weather was getting hotter and hotter, he coukd feel his bang stick in his forhead due to the sweat, he tried to put on his best smile and cursed Wen Qing in his head again, even tho it was his fault losing that bet, who would have thought that she was better at getting girls number than he was? Anyway Jiang Cheng (who also lost the bet) just got out of his shifft and sat in the edge of the sidewalk, then he lighted a cigarette adn started smoking while he was still in his grape outfit.

Wei WuXian sighed and looked down at his yellow "clothes", he was shameless, yes, but even he got a little embarrased dressed in a banana suit in the middle of a very crowded street, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and kept giving pamphlets to random strangers that were nearby. Suddenly, when he was about to murder the next teenager that laughed at him he saw something from the corner of his eye and almost died on the spot.

Getting out of a white and expensive car were rhe famous Two Jades, both in loght colored clothes and as flawless as ever, Wei WuXian was about to scream at the top of his lungs to caught the attention of his crush to annoy him a little but then he remembered what he was wearing, the noise stuck in his throat but Lan WangJi still somehow noticed his precense, and judging Jiang Cheng's reaction Lan XiChen notoced him too.

Unfortunately both of them had the same reaction, they droped everything and ran to the door of the little minimarket that they were working for to tride to hide their embarrassment. But it seems that the world it's not big enough for the two of them, Wei WuXian hit the top of the door frame with his suit and Jiang Cheng did the same with the sides of it, both of them fell backwards.

The Lan brothers watched all the thing and the YunMeng boys wished for someone to kill them on the spot.

#writing prompt #mdzs #mxtx #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan xichen #jiang cheng #xicheng #wangxian

[presleepthoughts]

okay so, one based on twenty one pilot's song smithereens?

Man, this prompt has been in my inbox since last year (Haha) 😂 Sorry I love bad jokes, please don’t scroll away. 

For serious tho, thanks guys for sticking around. This is my first fanfic in 2019 and hopefully there is more to come. As long as you want me around. 

I have a bit of a new rule for the new year, though.

Guys, I have only one song-fic left in my inbox and I will write that one, but after that I will not accept anymore.

I used to like writing them but after a while it became annoying and boring. Usually the lyrics says it all and I would like to leave it at that.

So please, don’t send them to me anymore. And thank you. 

Now onto the fic 😉

The strange scent of mixed cigarette and artificial smoke from the smoke machine left a weird taste in her mouth. Or maybe it was the cheap vodka shot that she couldn’t get away from nor she wanted to. It succeed in its purpose to get her tipsy, not quite drunk yet but definitely putting her on the right path. 

Tapping her finger on the rim of her glass to the beat of the song, Beca glanced around the darkened room, her eyes squinting trying to see through the flashing lights. The all too familiar scenes of a typical bar in New York City left her smiling to herself. 

You’ve got your young couple on the dance floor grinding vigorously against each other or messily making out in the corner. The regular old guy drinking away his problems and whining to the bartender. The bachelorette party with too much pink and dick decoration to count. And of course, the girl who’s just there to dance. 

And tonight that girl was Chloe Beale.

The girl who barged into her shower literally the second time they met and demanded that she audition to a lame a capella team the Barden Bellas. The girl who pulled her closer and whispered at Initiation Night party that they were going to be fast friends. The girl who defended her - and believed in her - time and time again when nobody else did. 

She was her best friend. And if Beca would be honest with herself for once in her life, she would admit that Chloe was more. 

But for now, until Beca finally found the courage to change it, that remained Chloe’s label. 

Her eyes instantly found her, dancing on the dance floor with Aubrey, smiling from ear to ear, having the time of her life. Beca was unable to tear her gaze away, being captivated by the way her hips moved, by the way her fingers slipped into her hair, exposing a flash of skin that begged to be kissed…

Beca cleared her throat and took a sip of her vodka, the alcohol ironically giving her a moment of clarity. Turning back to the table, the rest of the Bellas were chatting happily with each other, each drunker than the last. Except for Cynthia Rose who was starting straight at her with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk on her lips.

Fuck. She was caught doing… whatever she was doing. Beca swallowed in reflex before putting on her famous poker face. “What?” 

Cynthia Rose’s smirk deepened seeing Beca’s reaction. “What are you looking at?” She paused. “Or better yet…who are you looking at?”

The brunette pursed her lips together and stubbornly turned away, refusing to answer the question which turned out to be a mistake because her eyes automatically locked on Chloe again. Cynthia Rose followed her gaze and Beca watched as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion before a slight surprise settled on her face. Beca’s heart beat out of her chest at the thought of being called out and she squeeze her drink between her hands, the denial already on her tongue. 

Cynthia Rose looked back at her and Beca waited with bated breath. But the girl’s eyes softened around the edges and she nodded at Beca like there was nothing out of ordinary. 

“Makes sense.” 

Beca pulled her head so far back, she thought she was going to break her spine. 

But she didn’t have enough time to actually process what happened because suddenly Aubrey appeared at the table, slightly panting with a few of her locks sticking to her forehead but smiling happily. 

“Somebody come dancing with me!” She screamed excitedly, grabbing at Stacie tugging on her arm. Beca furrowed her eyebrow.

“Where’s Chloe?” 

“She went to get more drinks.”

Beca whipped her head toward the bar on the right side of the room, eyes searching for the familiar color of red before finding her, bending over the bar and talking to the bartender. Beca didn’t know why but she sighed in relief and relaxed back in her chair…

Until somebody stepped up to Chloe and put his hand on her lower back. Beca watched as Chloe flinched and straightened up, looking up at the guy. Beca couldn’t see her expression because her back was turned to her, but the guy’s smirk made Beca clinch her fist tightly. 

She couldn’t describe the feeling that came over her but she stood up quickly and cut through the bar, ignoring the Bellas confused reaction. She pushed people out of her way, not taking her eyes off of Chloe for a second. As she reached the pair, the guy took a step closer. 

“ - on, let me buy you a drink.” He smiled cheekily. “I just want to talk.”

Chloe shook her head and smiled awkwardly. “No, thanks. My friends are waiting for me.” 

The guy pointed one finger in the air. “Just one drink. I can’t let a pretty girl like you pass me by.” 

Chloe opened her mouth but Beca’s confident voice stopped her. 

“I think she said no, man.” 

She spun around and couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes as Beca strolled up beside her. The brunette’s stare was cold and hard as she sized up the guy in front of her. He was easily twice her size, 6ft tall with broad shoulders but Beca couldn’t care less. 

He staggered back slightly at the unexpected interruption but regained his confidence before he smirked. 

“And who are you? 

Beca stepped in front of Chloe. “None of your business. Just leave her alone. She doesn’t want to talk to you.” 

The brunette felt Chloe’s fingers slip around her wrist, tugging on it gently. “Beca, no…” 

The guy laughed in disbelieve. “I think she can make her own decisions, man.” He said before focusing on Chloe. “Come on, baby…let’s ditch her and have some fun.” 

Now, normally Beca was cool and collected. She tried not to get worked up over little things like the state of the Bella house after a big party or a failed exam but when somebody messed with her family, especially Chloe…that was a different story. 

So when he made the mistake of stepping closer and reaching out with every intention of grabbing Chloe by the shoulder, Beca snapped. She started panting heavily and she wasn’t really thinking when she drew back her fist and threw it out with all of her power, hitting the guy right on the jaw.

Chloe yelped and froze as he stumbled back and grabbed his jaw in his hands, eyes widening in surprise at the attack. None of them noticing a big crowd forming around them.

Beca heard the crack her fingers made but she couldn’t feel it as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. She was gonna feel that tomorrow. 

“You stupid bitch.” He murmured as his eyes changed, flashing anger at Beca and moved towards her quickly with his fist raised. Now the redhead really tried to get her moving away as she shouted but Beca remained in place, ready to fight. 

But just before he made the contact, security appeared behind him and hooked their arms around his waist, holding him back. The guy started yelling, spitting everywhere angrily as they carried him out of the club. 

As soon as he disappeared through the crowd, Beca’s posture fell as her brain caught up with her actions. Her body started shaking as she calmed down and her hand throbbed. Suddenly worried, ocean blue eyes came into her view and Beca started to smile like an idiot. 

“Oh my God, are you okay?!” Chloe demanded worriedly and pushed her backwards until Beca’s legs collided with a bar stool and she sat down, still slightly out of it. 

Chloe grabbed her hand and pulled it closer to her face and winced at the sight. Her knuckles were all bruised up and bleeding and her middle and pointing finger turning blue quickly. 

“Can you, maybe, get me some ice, please?” She asked the bartender and he nodded, swiftly returning with an ice-pack and handing it to Chloe. 

The redhead placed it on her knuckles as gently as possible but Beca still hissed at the pain. 

Chloe puffed angrily. “That’s what you get for punching a guy twice your size.” 

Beca didn’t say anything, knowing Chloe was right but not willing to admit it. 

Chloe watched the ice-pack for a second before she slowly raised her eyes up to Beca’s and looked deep into them. 

“What were you thinking?”

Beca shook her head. “I wasn’t.”

Chloe bit her bottom lip and sighed. “I can see that. Beca…” her voice softened. “he could’ve hurt you really bad. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…if…” She shook her head and let the sentence hang between them. “I was scared.” 

Beca closed her eyes, feeling a different kind of pain. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. 

Chloe sighed tiredly and pulled the ice-pack of Beca’s fingers and surprised the brunette when she placed a feather like kiss on her skin. 

“Just…don’t do that ever again.” 

Beca’s eyes bore into hers, hoping that she saw everything that she was too scared to say out loud. Chloe’s breath caught in her throat. 

For you, I would. 

#bechloe #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Anna Kendrick #brittany snow #requests #twenty one pilots #smithereens #songfic

[dantetv]

It was a story...

It was a story...

Ed bent over to pick up the next box off the truck and laid it on the loading dock. Sun wasn't quite up yet, the wind still had a chill to it from the night. A few stars decorated the sky still. But the ache in his arms pretty much occupied his mind. He looked into the truck at the remaining thirty or so bigger boxes, then just sat down on the dock.

Needed a minute, Ed thought. Few more months, then he'd retire. Maybe Malibu. Or someplace warm. Eh, who was he kidding? Probably just ignore the world til Christmas. Maybe longer. He looked up as a couple walked by. Plainly but nicely dressed, they looked like they had Asian features. He caught the eye of one, who gave him a nod. Then a wink. They kept on walking up the street, probably for breakfast.

Ed shook his head. He imagined the wink, had to. It was almost like they knew him. He stood up, shaking his head again then hands to loosen them up. Get distracted too easy these days Ed, he thought. Gotta stay focused on your work. Wasnt like there was a going to be a 'flash of light' or something that would appear out of thin air. He took the little blue egg-sized stress ball from his pocket, giving it a few pumps in each hand. Need to get my focus, Ed thought. Bang out this last batch of boxes then head over to Gregg's Shop for a slice and a cup of coffee. Could've eaten breakfast first. But with all the idiots that come flying in to unload thinking they are entitled to their own special spot on the dock, just ain't worth the aggravation. Tho watching that one guy gets into an argument with a lady over her delivery yesterday was priceless. Beat the shit out of Jerry Springer. Best guess is the guy did a bid on the delivery, parcel unseen, in a fit of rage to beat out another shipper. However, he didn't realize what she had wasn't a movie prop. It was full-scale, military grade. He tried to weasel his way out of it, saying he didn't have licenses after she blew up when he tried to hit her up for money. No shit. He can still hear her words echoing all over the dock at the top of her lungs.

"But how am I going to get my field cannon home????"

Ed was just waiting to see after the guy finally left her in the lurch if she was going to load it up and blast his ass. Would've been funny as hell. Tho anyone asked, he didn't see shit. But when he came in this morning, it was gone. Wonder what kind of home she had that she needed a field cannon. Or for that matter, why the hell she needed one. Ed heard a noise in the corner, a rat looked like it had been in a fight with something and was flailing in a puddle of trash. Didn't look so good, tho no reason anything should need to suffer an end like that. Ed took out a broomstick and moved away from the trash, flipping a piece of string that had gotten tangled around the rat's neck. There ya go, little fellow, Ed thought. The rat did a few flips on its sides before righting itself. After a minute, it ran down a dark side of the wall out of Ed's sight.

Ed then heard the sound of a bicycle tire squeal and a young voice call to him. Shoot, he forgot. He waved at the voice and walked into the trailer, grabbing a large stack of papers. As he came out, he dropped the papers on the dock in front of a young boy, wearing a ball cap and jacket. The kid already had his swiss army knife out, cutting the string and starting to roll the papers into a bag he had.

Ed smiled. Nice to see a kid up early, trying to make some money for some sort of dooflicky thing. Wasn't sure if it was a video game, book, or someplace the kid wanted to go to. Maybe it was a movie he meant. Ed didn't know nor did he ask. The kid was on a schedule and he wasn't going to mess with his mojo. Ed went back into the truck for another box and came back out, noticing a tall man standing by the lamp post watching them. He looked like a mortician. Probably some guy that had a long night partying and wound up here to sober up. Didn't seem like a freak and the kid didn't seem fazed. It had been a very long time since Ed saw any form of law enforcement down here. Have to think on over coffee the last time it was later.

Ed turned his back, the young voice saying something as it trailed off. Ed turned back around, watching the kid disappear on his bike. The tall man in black was gone. Heck, for that matter, Ed seemed to be the only one around. The kid had left a paper for him, one of the extras they get in case one gets damaged when they're delivering them. He glanced over the headlines, reports of the death of Harry Stone, some great TV producer. His stars were planning a benefit in honor of him for some charity or another. Probably wanting to use it as a launching event for a new company while there was still some of Harry's warmth in people's minds. Or wherever they wanted it.

Ed flipped it to the back, some ads for alcohol and small news story on another death in Millville. Cub reporter, Ed thought. It was only a few lines. But it got this kid their first credit. Gotta start somewhere, Ed thought.

Ed went back into the trailer and grabbed what looked like a light box. Idiot kids liked to do it ass backward, lifting all the heavy stuff then the light. It all has to get unloaded. This way, he could have more room to shimmy the heavy stuff out. Ed had just placed one foot on the dock when the bottom of the box opened and its contents spilled out. Ed cursed, flipping the box over and tossing the contents back in before anyone saw anything. The top was still taped so he could just fake...

It was a hat that stopped him. A Totenkopf. He froze for a moment, then pulled himself together and threw it all in the box. It wasn't his business nor his shipment. He didn't even want to know why there was a pair of black stiletto boots in there. He got it all back in and folded the box together.

Shit, he thought. That took a lot out of him. Ed was feeling the need more and more for that coffee. Just to take the edge off, he thought. He started to go back into the trailer, then just shook his head. Naw, I gotta get the coffee. A few minutes later, Ed was still laughing after the service Gregg gave some tourist about their food. Gregg was in rare form, dousing the entire plate of pancakes in syrup. Then he set it on fire. There's your crepes, he said. Yea. Gregg....

Ed stopped in his tracks. The trailer he was unloading was gone. All the stuff he unloaded was also gone. But that was impossible. This town was too small for theft like this. Plus any truck that could haul this thing would have made a ton of noise going past the coffee shop. Ed checked his watch and the clocks in the loading dock office. They said the same thing, he was only gone for five minutes. Absolutely no way. Ed thought he might have been finally starting to lose it when he saw the newspaper the kid had left him was still in the office. Ads for frying pans and the new Pixie camera plus the article on the Millville Deep deaths.

He went back out, jumping off the loading dock and into the yard. It was all pavement, so no tracks. Ed then noticed a woman in all black holding up a lamp post across the road from the dock. He opened the gate and started walking towards her. She took a long draw on the cigarette she was smoking.

'Ed, we have a deal.' she said. 'I can do my thing until sunrise without hassle. We agreed to that.'

Ed nodded. 'Yea, yea. Don't care. I do care about what happened to the trailer I was unloading this morning. Did you see who took it?'

The woman took another draw on her cigarette, weighing her options as to whether or not it was worth asking for money. Before she spoke, Ed already had a $20 in his hand. Her eyes riveted to it, her top starting to open reflexively when she caught herself. Ed smiled. 'Just the info. I already had my breakfast.' She grabbed the $20, tho Ed didn't let it go. 'And what happened..', Ed asked?

The woman took a last hit on the cigarette, then dropped it to the ground and crushed it out.

TO BE CONTINUED...

MILLVILLE DEEP MYSTERY An Acme Detective Agency Campaign

#dantetv #millvilledeep #gaming

[happytreasure]

can you write an angst hc abt henry finding eds in heat pre pregnancy??? (& then richie beating his ass after some good angst food) PLEASE

yup! its not too angsty but my writing rn is a bit subpar

-okay so this is only a year or so after eddie’s presented

-the pack all goes back to derry to visit family

-eddie and richie plan to stay w went and maggie

-a few days into the trip eddie starts feeling a bit feverish and richie thinks maybe he caught something on the plane bc his last heat was less than a month ago

-jessica and will invited everyone over to the hanlon farm for this huge feast

-but eddie feels so sick he can’t go but convinced richie to go and have fun

-maggie is home to take care of him

-maggie feeds him some chicken noodle soup and tucked him in before going to bed herself

-fyi eddie loves maggie bc even tho she doesn’t really understand richie or even eddie sometimes she always tries her best to take care of them

-when eddie wakes back he’s deep into preheat and has the incredible urge to prepare

-he can’t fine richie so he decides he should go out and get supplies himself

-he’s not thinking very clearly but it feels like a good idea to him

-he just kinda slips outta the house and makes it to a little like gas station/store to get supplies

-he gets everything from a concerned cashier who tells him to make it home safe

-as he walks out of the store he gets a call from richie

-“alpha!”

-but he quickly feels bad when he hears how panicked richie is

-“baby, are you okay?! where are you? i could smell your preheat when i got home.”

-“i couldn’t find you so i had to prepare, i’m just at the corner store down the street.”

-“okay i’m coming to get you, please be careful baby,”

-and eddie promises and hangs up

-he knows derry like the back of his hand so ofc he takes a few short cuts

-at one point he’s quickly cutting through a dark alley way

-suddenly he hears a dark voice

-“i almost didn’t recognize you, freak, looks like someone finally presented.”

-eddie whips around incredibly surprised to see henry leaned up against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette

-“although a male omega? i didn’t think you could downgrade from unpresented,” he sneers

-eddie holds the bags he’s carrying tighter. occurrences of male omegas have been increasing since the 1900s mostly because they aren’t being actively bred out of family lines or abandoned upon presentation

-but leave it to derry to be as backwards as always

-“leave me alone henry, i don’t have time for this”

-“oh, i can tell, someone’s about to go into heat, huh?”

-eddie tenses up bc he hadn’t really noticed how prevalent his scent is

-“fuck off, that has nothing to do with you”

-henry hums. “ya know as gross as you male omegas are, i hear you’re the best at taking cock,”

-suddenly eddie’s blood runs cold because sure he could take a beating like he did when he was a kid, but he didn’t know what he’d do if bowers has other intentions

-“i’m mated you piece of shit,”

-“that’s never stopped me.”

-and suddenly eddie realizes just exactly how close he’s let henry get

-“don’t fucking touch me.”

-henry simply ignores him, advancing more

-before he can really process it he’s pinned against the wall

-and henry’s letting his scent out full force bc he knows it’ll weaken eddie’s resolve

-and eddie feels so ridiculously lightheaded bc there’s an alpha letting out a mating scent so his instincts want him to obey but it’s not his alpha

-he still struggles bc he knows he doesn’t want it

-he gags as he feels henry’s hot breath against his neck

-panic fully sets in and eddie knees bowers in the crotch

-he slips out of his grasp and grabs the lid to a metal trash can slams it over his head

-immediately he starts running down the alleyway

-bowers goes after him

-eddie’s fast but in his current state he feels sluggish

-right as he’s about to exit the alleyway he runs into a warm, hard body

-instantly his mind goes to one of bowers goons and he thinks he’s fucked

-however when he steps back he realizes it richie, baseball bat in hand and blank expression on his face

-without hesitating he swings at bowers and eddie cringes at the cracking of ribs

-he’s nearly dizzy with relief

-richie picks him up, steps over bowers and grabs his bags and brings eddie home

-almost the entirety of his heat eddie is anxious and more than clingy towards richie

-richie scents him a ridiculous amount

#abo #reddie #angst #ask #anon

[bonerpillz-blog]

Personal Jesus - REDDIE

songs listened to while writing this (i also suggest you listening to them too to get the vibe please!!!): personal jesus - depeche mode, daddy issues - the neighbourhood, fallingforyou - the 1975, antichrist - the 1975

hey guys! soon i may or may not have definitely cried while writing this (thanks to the music) so i really really hope you all enjoy it. but anyways yeahhhh ok bye

word count - 1.1k

warnings - literally the slightest mention of richie’s parents, uhhh a little bit of making out even tho i don’t really count this, mention of (dry) blood. (some of these you might think are stupid but i know i have some ‘weird’ triggers so i like to write down everything i think of)

DISCLAIMER!!! These boys are aged up to ab 17 in this okay? I know this whole “don’t sexualize these boys!!!!” thing is real B U T, if you’ve read the book and seen the movies, you can clearly see there are plenty of sexual innuendos. PLUS, these kids are smoking and drinking and shit so if you think that writing ab sexual things even AFTER aging them up is bad, just move on. Plus, we’re writing about their characters, not about the real boys. ANYWAYS, happy reading :-)

It was dark in Richie’s bedroom, the only light was from the full moon drifting in the night sky.

Smash.

Another bottle was thrown in the other room, probably by his mother at his father. He raised his eyebrows, feeling the tight skin caused by now dried blood crinkle.

He needed to leave.

Richie stood up, looking around his room before running to his closet and grabbing whatever he saw, shoving it into his backpack. He opened his window, remembering to grab his pack of cigarettes from his bedside table before swinging his right leg over the sill and jumping out at the sound of another glass item.

His backpack was swung over one of his shoulders as he lit one of the cigarettes, shoving the pack into his jean pocket and grabbing his bike. His parents wouldn’t notice he was gone, but to be safe he went with the bike. They were much less likely to realize that it was gone, though they wouldn’t give a shit either way. Why did Richie still care?

He biked through the streets until his legs ached, smoke leaving his lungs and tears staining his face. He smoked the cigarette until it burned his fingers and threw it in front of him, running it over with the tires of his bike. He cried but didn’t make a sound, focusing on the pain in his legs as he biked to the house of the person he first thought of.

Eddie Kaspbrak, his ‘best friend’ but they both knew they were more than that and right now, Eddie was all that Richie needed.

Richie wasted no time once he reached Eddie’s house. His bike was thrown onto the lawn as he hoisted himself up onto the tree branches in front of Eddie’s window. There was not a single window lit up but Richie didn’t care. He needed Eddie.

To his luck, he could see Eddie laying on his bed, his arm rested over his forehead that was lit up by a tv screen in the corner. Richie tapped on the window maybe louder than he should have because Eddie jumped, instantly getting up and rushing over when he saw Richie.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, just above a whisper while pulling Richie into his room.

“Just needed to get away,” Richie replied, tossing his bag to the ground.

Eddie turned on his bedside lamp, looking at Richie and feeling his heart ache. Not only was the dry blood on Richie’s forehead more prominent than Richie probably realized, the tears that were no longer falling had stained down to the corners of his lips.

“Your parents?”

Richie nodded and Eddie motioned for him to sit down, Richie listened and sat on the edge of the other boy’s bed.

Despite all of Richie’s protests, Eddie cleaned the small cut on his forehead and, for once, put a plain band-aid on top of it.

“You wanna talk about it?” Eddie asked quietly, putting the small first aid kit back into his dresser drawer and turning to face Richie, but Richie just grabbed him and pulled him closer.

“Not really, no.” He whispered, looking slightly up through his long eyelashes at Eddie. Eddie stared back. “I really wanna kiss you though,” Richie added, even quieter.

Eddie smiled a small, barely noticeable but full of emotion smile before leaning down slightly to press his lips to Richie’s.

Richie moved his lips along with Eddie’s, resting his hands on the boy’s sides, just above his hips and gripping a bit tighter than he usually would but Eddie definitely didn’t seem to mind. Eddie’s hands were rested on Richie’s face as he opened his own lips a bit more to let Richie’s tongue meet his.

Richie smirked faintly, already never wanting this moment to end. He stood up a bit to move backward a bit, pulling Eddie on top of him and not once breaking their lips apart. Eddie’s skin was warm against Richie’s roaming fingertips, now under the hem of Eddie’s shirt. Richie felt as though he was on fire when Eddie’s lips met the translucent looking skin on his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth hanging open the slightest bit as he drowned out the rest of the world. All he felt, all he heard, all he saw, was Eddie.

“I love you.” Richie murmured, too out of it to really think before spitting the words out though he meant it all the same.

Eddie paused, his lips lingering against Richie’s skin for a moment before pulling away and looking down at him. Richie opened his eyes, realizing what had been said and not being able to read the expression on Eddie’s face.

“I… I’m sorry,” Richie mumbled, pushing Eddie off of him and sitting up, his legs dangling off the bed and his hands set beside him, one moving to his forehead. Richie squeezed his eyes shut.

“Richie-“ Eddie was cut off by a soft sob escaping Richie’s lips. Eddie’s eyes widened as he reached out, grabbing Richie’s arm and scooting closer to him, eventually resting his face in the crook of Richie’s neck.

“Why are you crying, love?” Eddie whispered against Richie’s skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface.

Richie shook his head, another sob making its appearance. Eddie pulled back, tamely grabbing Richie’s head and turning it to face his own. “Why are you crying?” he asked again, looking right into Richie’s eyes.

Richie stared back, his body shaking softly as his mouth opened and closed a few times. He didn’t know what to say.

Eddie ghosted his thumb over Richie’s cheek, pushing his glasses up slightly in the process.

“My life is falling apart, Eds,” Richie choked out as he tried to hold back another sob, “I feel nothing anymore I-I don’t want to be sad anymore.”

Eddie’s heart broke as he continued to stare at the broken boy in front of him. “Richie.” He spoke, waiting for the boy to look at him and saying his name again when he didn’t. “Richie.”

Richie looked up, attempting to swallow the growing lump in his throat but all it did was shoot a dull pain through his neck.

Eddie just kept quiet, running his right hand across Richie’s jaw, leaning in and following it with his lips, causing Richie to let out a whimper, the sob building in his throat wanting to escape again. Eddie continued placing soft kisses against Richie’s skin all the way down to his collarbones before moving his head back up and placing his own lips against Richie’s.

It was not a big kiss. Just one soft pair of lips against another chapped one.

Eddie pulled away, resting his forehead against Richie’s and opened his eyes. “I love you, too.” He whispered.

Eddie Kaspbrak was all Richie Tozier needed.

i am really, really proud of this so let me know what you guys thought of it :-)

#it #it 2017 #it stephen king #stephen king #richie #tozier #richie tozier #eddie #kaspbrak #richie x eddie #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #it fanfic #it fanfiction #pennywise #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #georgie denbrough #stanley uris #mike hanlon #patrick hockstetter #henry bowers #belch #fanfic #fanfiction

[emeraldwaves]

Title: Cacophony Chapter 5 Mikorei Week Day 1: Fascination Read from the beginning Music/Band AU Pairing: Mikorei, side Izuseri, Rating: M Word Count:  4,640

AO3 Summary for Ch5: Suoh continues to helps Munakata experience new things. thanks to @its-love-u-asshole for reading this even tho she super busy! Sorry it took me forever to update this like a jerk

“You killed him.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Suoh grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I took the idiot to a concert. I didn’t murder the guy.”

“I knew you weren’t fond of him but to think you’d go this far,” Kusanagi sighed, dramatically.

“Shut it,” Suoh rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he sat in the chair, waiting for their rehearsal to begin. As much as he hated to admit it, it was odd Munakata was late. He hadn’t been late to any of their rehearsals, and he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who was late to anything. Ever.

“Well you obviously did something. Otherwise, he’d be here. The guy hasn’t been late to any of our rehearsals,” Kusanagi said, speaking Suoh’s thoughts out loud.

“Maybe he’s living life on the edge?” Suoh mused, placing a cigarette in his mouth.

Kusanagi pursed his lips, rubbing his forehead. “I swear, Mikoto…The competition is in a week and a half and we finally found a pianist. I get that he wasn’t up to your damn high standards, but if he quits because you felt the need to scare him off—” Kusanagi was abruptly cut off by the door sliding open as Munakata rushed into the practice space.

Suoh smirked, glancing towards Kusanagi with one eyebrow raised. Kusanagi rolled his eyes, waving his hand at Suoh.

“Ah, I apologize for being late,” Munakata said, bowing as he caught his breath. Suoh watched as Munakata, red-faced and huffing, slipped off his scarf and began to unbutton his pea-coat. Damn attractive prissy boy.

“I’m shocked. The perfect pianist actually did something wrong,” Suoh murmured, though a smirk was still present on his lips.

“Yes, yes, go ahead and chide me all you want,” Munakata sighed, draping the jacket over the back of the chair.

“Nah, I’m impressed,” Suoh chuckled, stepping onto the stage, and grabbing his guitar.

“Only you would be impressed by tardiness,” Munakata scoffed, brushing some of the snow out of his hair. “I simply underestimated how long it would take me to walk here in the snow. It was rather slippery.”

“I was convinced Mikoto had murdered you,” Kusanagi teased, following Suoh’s lead. He picked up his bass, placing the strap over his head.

Munakata pulled the folder of music from his bag, smiling as he walked towards the stage. “Actually Suoh and I had a lovely evening. Quite eye opening,” he said, stepping up onto the black stage.

Suoh watched as Munakata took his seat at the piano. Damn idiot really was far too pretty for his own good. “Mmm. I hope this means you’re gonna play like a human today, instead of a robot.” Munakata turned around, narrowing his eyes at Suoh. Even angry, he looked good, Suoh thought.

“Suoh,” Munakata began, hissing out his name. “I do hope you don’t expect some magical change overnight.”

“And here I thought you were a prodigy,” Suoh teased, before they began to start the song. Listening to Munakata play now, Suoh couldn’t help but glance back at him every so often. It still felt stilted, but slightly less so than it had before. Only slightly, Suoh wasn’t going to admit to any more than that. Shrugging, the guitarist turned his gaze back towards the front, focusing on his own part and singing. Munakata wasn’t anywhere close to Totsuka, but it was better than he had expected after only one day. Munakata was shockingly talented, technical, but talented. The more time he spent with him, the more impossible it became to deny that.

At the end of the set, Suoh turned towards Munakata, watching as he sighed and sat back, resting his hands on the keys. "Better," he grunted, hating the way a gentle blush rose to Munakata's cheeks. "Let's take a break," he said, immediately stepping down off of the stage. The less he had to say to the pianist the better. Suoh sucked at talking to him, and knowing how much Munakata enjoyed talking, the ass would probably start to ask him questions Suoh didn't have an answer to.

Suoh grabbed his jacket as he walked towards the door and yanked it open with both hands, the sliding echo loud in the now quiet practice space. He stepped outside and lit a cigarette, letting it burn down in his mouth.

“Admit it, you like him,” Kusanagi chuckled, now standing next to Suoh as he wrapped his coat around himself, lighting his own cigarette.

"Who?" Suoh grunted, letting a large cloud of smoke escape from his lips.

“Munakata," Kusanagi smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Mm. S'fine I guess," Suoh growled. He didn't have to admit anything. As far as he was concerned, Munakata did his job and served his purpose. Suoh didn't have to like him or befriend him anymore than he already had.

"You took him to a concert."

"He needed to loosen up," Suoh replied. "Wanted him to see how other people play. S'all," he shrugged.

"Alright. I won't push it."

"Besides," Suoh smirked at his best friend. "Even if I did like him, it wouldn't matter," he grinned. "The guy's probably a virgin, and saving himself until he finds 'the one'. Seems like that type," he said, chucking his cigarette butt to the ground to stomp out.

"Nothing wrong with that," Kusanagi shrugged, taking another long drag off of his cigarette

"Wasn't saying there was," Suoh grunted. "I don't want to taint his virgin ass." A gust of wind blew past their faces, the smoke from the cigarettes floating away. Kusanagi let out a snort, and Suoh didn't have to look at him to know the man was rolling his eyes.

"Maybe he wants you to corrupt him," Kusanagi replied, tossing the butt of his cigarette onto the ground. He placed his shoe against the slushy snow, twisting it around as the lit end slowly burnt out.

Suoh tapped the end of the cigarette, dumping the ash to ground. "Doubt it."

"Why don't you ask him," Kusanagi grinned.

"You want me to ask Munakata if he's had sex?" Suoh asked.

"Why not?" Kusanagi grinned.

~

Munakata's fingers swiped over the keys. Keyboards really were not his thing. He didn't like the lightness of the keys...the way the plastic clicked when he applied pressure. It didn't hold the same weight as the grand pianos he was used to.

The practice space was silent, quiet enough that Munakata could hear his breath echoing in the large hall. Suoh and Kusanagi had gone outside for a smoke, and Yata had run off somewhere. He'd been arguing on his cellphone to the boy he always seemed to be fighting with. Munakata still hadn't quite figured out what their relationship was.

He sighed, wondering if his playing had actually grown at all. Yes, he was experiencing 'new things' by playing with this band, but he wasn't certain it was actually helping him develop as an artist. He wanted to try again at Scepter University in just a few months for the Spring semester, and he wanted to be ready. Though he supposed he couldn't quite 'experience life' in such a short amount of time, but who exactly could put a number on that anyway.

He felt his playing had been rough today, his fingers pushing hard against the keys. Suoh had said to try new things, and even pushed him to to be similar to their style, for the purpose of their competition...and yet, today, it hadn't felt...right. Suoh had said it was better, though he hadn't elaborated beyond one word. Munakata really should've expected nothing less by now. Suoh wasn't the world's best teacher, in fact, he wasn't really a teacher at all. He was horrible at communicating, and Munakata still didn't quite know what he meant.

Slamming his fingers against the keys, he stood up, thinking he could take a walk and clear his head. But just as he did, Suoh slid the door open.

"Break over so soon?" Munakata hummed. There was a bit of a sing-song in his voice, teasing Suoh, though really it was odd he was coming back so fast. Normally a break meant 30-40 minutes of down time.

“So, what’s your deal?” Mikoto asked, ignoring Munakata's question as he walked back towards the stage.

“My…deal?” Munakata’s head tilted, his hair swaying slightly with the movement. His deep purple eyes met Suoh's gold.

“Yeah, you know…why you got such a large stick up your ass?” Suoh snorted.

Scoffing, Munakata folded his arms, turning his head away. “Excuse you.”

“Yeah, sorry," Suoh said, stamping his foot against the stage, hopping up onto it. "It’s more like a tree ya’ got stuck up there.”

"I thought you said I was doing better," Munakata frowned. "Did you lie?"

"Nah," Suoh shrugged, sitting down on Yata's drum stool. "It was better. Your shoulders still looked like they were going to punch your ears, but better."

"What is that supposed to mean, Suoh?" Munakata hissed. He wanted to better himself yes, but the way Suoh handled his strange lessons was so incredibly childish...

Suoh's shoulders raised to his ears. "Tension."

"I do not sit like that."

"It's subtle, but ya' do."

Grunting, Munakata unfolded his arms about to speak up, when Suoh picked up Yata's drumstick, rolling it against the top of the drum.

"You a virgin, Munakata? Ever been in love?"

"Excuse me?!" Munakata asked, taking a step backwards as he almost tripped over the bench of the piano. "Have you?"

Suoh's normally tired golden eyes widened ever so slightly, a flash of pain flickering behind his gaze. He was quiet, still rolling the drumstick, but even then the movement got slower. Seemed Munakata had touched a nerve. "Not important," he said finally. "Gonna assume that deflection means no."

Suoh was apparently smarter than he let on. "The same could be said about your response," he retorted, his face feeling hot. " don't see why you need to know this information about me," Munakata said finally.

"Don't. Just tryin' to get to know you. And you know, a lot artists use a broken heart to really dig inside themselves for emotion when they play," Suoh continued. Whenever he talked so much, Munakata always felt thrown off guard, like he was hearing Suoh's voice for the first time.

"I take it that's what you do," Munakata snapped, knowing it was a low blow. Suoh was obviously quite attached to Totsuka Tatara, the writer of their songs.

Suoh grunted, slapping the drumstick against the hard, white snare drum. "Not important," he repeated again after some silence.

"I don't see why my personal information is important and yours is not..." Munakata continued.

"Just tryin' to help ya'." Suoh shrugged.

"...Well, still, not that I believe it is any of your business, but no. I have not experienced either of those things. I never had time for it, I was too busy with music." It was true, Munakata hadn't experienced love...or any sort of sexual relations. He had spent his teenage years focusing on the piano and learning to perfect his technique; A technique which felt utterly useless on this stage.

"Knew it. Kusanagi owes me ten bucks," Suoh chuckled, spinning the drumstick around in his hand once more.

"Owes you?" Munakata frowned. "I thought you were trying to teach me some kind of lesson, not mock me." He yanked his coat off the back of his chair. "I'm leaving."

"Ah, c'mon, Munakata, lighten up! This is what I meant about that stick thing."

"Stick...thing?" Munakata asked, clenching his jacket hard.

Suoh stood up and pointed to his ass. "Up there."

"I am trying to learn and better myself, Suoh, this is no time for stupid jokes," he scoffed, turning his head away, his cheeks feeling hot.

"Embarrassed?" Suoh let out a deep, prideful chuckle, as though he were beyond thrilled he'd caught Munakata in the lie.

"I'm not," he said, keep his gaze fixated on Suoh, so not to give away his true emotions.

"Just...take the joke," Suoh groaned, covering his eyes. "Look, you really wanna better yourself, meet me here tomorrow night around 9 PM."

"9 PM? But it's a Friday, we don't practice on Fridays. I have a great deal of solo practicing I need to get done. Additionally, I really need to begin working on my new composition," Munakata explained. He couldn't go gallivanting around every night with Suoh, especially when the man was insufferable to be around. He had many things to work on, and his friendship with Suoh was not one of them.

"Yeah, we don't have practice, so you're free right?" Suoh talked, ignoring everything Munakata said.

"Did you not listen to a word I just said?" Munakata asked, his brow furrowing. "Do you plan on taking me to another concert?"

"Tomorrow. 9 PM. I'll teach ya' how to loosen up."

~~

Munakata sighed, once again waiting outside for Suoh. He should've learned from last time, should've known Suoh wouldn't have shown up at 9. He took off his scarf, and re-wrapped it around his neck, covering up his mouth and nose, the hot air from his breath blowing back into his face.

He yawned, and stretched his hands up. It was getting late, already 9:15, and Munakata wasn't quite sure what Suoh had planned for the evening, but he hoped it would wrap up soon. He'd never been one to stay out very late.

Munakata wasn't sure why he kept agreeing to these weird outings, but something about Suoh intrigued him. The red haired man was incredibly obnoxious and Munakata couldn't stand how he acted about some things, and yet he was drawn to him. Perhaps there was a part of him which truly believed Suoh had some magical answer to his problem. The guy's life seemed to be a mess, and actually Munakata had no idea what the man did besides play his guitar, but for some reason, he held the key to unlocking something more inside of Munakata. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe. Plus, he really hadn't had a bad time at the concert, it had been rather nice to experience something new and different.

"Oi, Munakata," Suoh called, cigarette in his mouth. "Ya' ready?" He breezed by him and the door to the practice space, waving his hand up and down.

"Ready for what?" Munakata asked, glancing between Suoh and the door. "Are we not going in there?"

"Nope," Suoh said, tucking his hands his pockets as he scuffed his feet along against the sidewalk.

"Then, where are we going?" he asked.

"You ask way too many questions," Suoh sighed, turning the corner as they made their way down the block. Their feet squished against the messy slush on the sidewalk, the snow had begun to melt earlier in the day with the sun out, but the night brought back the cold, meaning the wet slosh wouldn't be there for long.

After what seemed like many minutes, Suoh finally stopped in front of a door underneath an awning. A bright red light flashed above it, reading only one word: bar. The sign lit up one letter at a time and then flashed the whole word, in a increment of only about three seconds.

"A bar?" Munakata asked.

"Yeah," Suoh said, flashing his ID to the man in front of the door. "I'm buying you a drink."

"Oh no," Munakata said, shaking his head. "You are sorely mistaken. I don’t drink alcohol."

"You don't?" Suoh asked, turned to face him, the tall bouncer blocking a small space between the two.

"No," Munakata urged. Right about now was when he'd be having his late, before bedtime tea, nothing alcoholic.

"You tried it?"

"No," Munakata repeated.

"Well you wanna experience shit right?"

Pulling out his wallet, Munakata showed his ID to the man, following Suoh inside. "I refuse to get drunk."

"S'fine," Suoh shrugged, grabbing a high top table for them near the bar. "Wait here, I'll get you something you might be okay with."

Munakata watched Suoh disappear into the large crowd of people. The bass was loud here too, but in a different way than the concert. This one pounded in his head, reverberating against his eyes. The speakers amplifying the loud twisting sounds of the dance music.

It was hot, sweaty, and the club smelled like a mixture of smoke, alcohol and body sweat. Munakata thought he might choke on the heavy atmosphere, the body heat lingering all around him, even though he was nowhere near the bar or the music. This certainly was a...new experience.

Suoh returned, placing a blue looking drink in front of Munakata, and he placed a small glass of brown liquid down in front of his own chair. "Try that," he said, gesturing to the blue glass.

"What is it?"

"A...blue drink," Suoh said, taking a sip of his own. "Just trust me. It's kinda sweet, kinda sour. You'll like it."

"Hm," Munakata hummed, pulling the drink towards his mouth. He sniffed it, and it smelled almost exactly as Suoh had described. Wrapping his lips around the thin glass, he took a small sip. The alcohol, or what Munakata assumed was the alcohol, was very strong, though it did have a sour taste, making Munakata's lips recoil for a moment. "It's not...terrible," he said. "But...why did you want to take me drinking?" Munakata asked, calling over the music.

"You said you wanted to experience new things, right? I figured you'd never been to a place like this."

Suoh wasn't wrong. Munakata had never actually been out to a bar or a club before. Nor had he tried anything like this drink. It really wasn't horrible. He took another sip, a larger one this time, the liquid stinging his throat as it went down.

"A very strange sensation..." he hummed.

Suoh chuckled, shaking his head. He raised his own glass to his lips, sucking down the brown liquid with ease. Obviously, this was something Suoh had done many times before. His golden eyes stayed fixated on the drink in front of him, sadness washing over him. For a moment, Munakata couldn't help but notice how attractive Suoh was, especially when he wore that cocky smirk, as obnoxious as it was. And when he looked sad, his eyes held a loneliness Munakata found he wished to understand.

He couldn't really figure out why though, and his cheeks felt flushed just thinking about it. He took a deep breath, and took a large gulp of the liquid.

"Oi, pace yourself if you don't wanna get drunk," Suoh grumbled, shaking his head. "You've never had alcohol before and you probably ate hours ago, it might hit you fast."

Munakata didn't really know what Suoh meant, so instead, he changed the subject. "What made you want to play guitar?" Munakata called out over the crowd.

Suoh quickly glanced away, looking annoyed. "Not important," he snapped.

"Hm. I told you quite a few things about myself, don't you think it's only fair you tell me at least one thing about you." Another sip slipped down his throat, the burn stronger that time, perhaps this drink had far more alcohol than he realized. His skin felt tingly, and his face felt hot.

Suoh swirled the drink around in his hand, took a large gulp, finishing off the drink. "You want one more?" Suoh asked.

Munakata looked at the blue drink which was slowly depleting. "Why not!" he shrugged, letting out a chuckle. "Since I am 'experiencing' things."

Suoh stood up from the table, moving over towards the bar yet again. Munakata followed his movements, noting again his attractiveness. He was tall, and his hair was so wild, Munakata couldn't even fathom doing his own hair in such a way. It seemed difficult...but it fit Suoh's gruff persona.

Suoh placed the drinks down on the table, and pulled himself onto the chair. "Totsuka," he said flatly.

"Totsuka?" Munakata asked, finishing off the rest of his first drink as he moved onto the second. "The...pianist before me?"

"Yeah," Suoh grunted.

"What...about him?" Munakata asked, knowing it was a...touchy subject with the red head.

"He's the reason," Suoh said, taking a large gulp of his brown drink.

"That...you play?" Munakata asked, putting two and two together.

"Yeah. He taught me. He started writing these dumb songs. Damn they were so stupid, and he wanted to play 'em...so he gave me a guitar and started teaching me. Sooner or later, we became this."

This. Their band, HOMRA, and yet, Totsuka was gone. Suoh's reason. It all became clear; Suoh had been in love with Totsuka...or well...in love with his music, though perhaps maybe him as well...and when Totsuka was gone, there was no reason for Suoh to play anymore. No wonder he was so picky about the piano.

"Ah...I see," Munakata said, swirling the half drank blue drink in his hand. "I...hope I can do his songs justice then," Munakata said, his purple gaze focusing on the liquid.

"Mmm," Suoh grunted, the noise barely audible as he finished off his drink.

Munakata felt a little fuzzy, the pounding in his head growing stronger. He took the drink and gulped it down, slamming the glass on the table. "Alright," he called out. "I will buy the next ones!" he announced, standing up before Suoh could object. He made his way to the bar, suddenly realizing he had no idea what the drinks were called, but as he leaned against the bar, ready to turn back towards Suoh, a man stopped in front of him.

"You're pretty, for a dude," the tall man said, staring directly into Munakata's eyes.

"Ah, well, thank you!" Munakata said, confused by the strange compliment.

The man raised his fingers, running them over the blue strands of Munakata's hair next to his face. "I bet you'd be a great time for me tonight," he said, leaning closer. His breath smelled strong of alcohol, and his hair was messy, as though he'd been dancing in sweat all night.

"I am...unsure about that," Munakata chuckled, backing up against the bar. The man stepped closer, blocking him in, though Munakata's eyes darted behind the man. If he wanted to, he could duck under his arm, pushing past him and-

"Hey!" A familiar voice called over. "What the hell is going on here?" Suoh's golden eyes looked intense, angry. He stepped next to the sweaty man and glared, wrapping his arm around Munakata's waist.

Feeling dizzy, Munakata felt his arm get yanked forward, away from the strange man as he felt Suoh's face moving closer. Their lips connected, and Suoh's fingers pressed against the back of Munakata's head, keeping him in place.

Munakata blinked, the feeling of Suoh's drunk lips and smokey breath were enough to keep him intoxicated. It made his face feel even more flush, and his stomach flip flopped, turning over on itself. Pulling back, Munakata kept his eyes shut, waiting for the lips to return, but they did not.

"We're leaving," Suoh grunted instead, tugging Munakata's hand in the direction of the exit.

~~

Suoh wasn't sure why he did it. He'd seen the man from afar earlier in the night. The asshole had been drunk, pointed almost directly at them, and Suoh knew he was pointing at pretty boy Munakata. The idiot was a walking target. Beautiful, slightly intoxicated, the man of course had gone in for the kill when Munakata had approached the bar alone.

Munakata hadn't seemed to notice what the man was doing though, and Suoh took it into his own hands to...well, ‘save’ him. He'd wrapped his arm around Munakata's shockingly slender waist, pulled him close, and when the man had taken a step forward, Suoh had possessively kissed Munakata's lips.

And man, for some stuck up virgin, Munakata sure did take to kissing well. He'd opened his mouth, as though he was waiting for the kiss to progress. But instead, Suoh willed himself to pull away.

All night, Suoh had been practically unable to take his eyes off of the blue haired man. He'd looked so damn cute, sucking down the alcoholic beverage for the first time, and he'd seemed so proud when he was going over to the bar. Suoh had watched him leaning forward over the bar and his golden had followed his slender back all the way down to the curve of his perfectly taut ass. His blue hair framed his face perfectly too, the wisps of his bangs flicking out to the side in the most perfect wave. Was everything about this asshole perfect?

And after the kiss, Munakata's eyes had stayed closed, and Suoh was fascinated by the shape of Munakata's mouth and the way his eyes fluttered. His face was so damn flushed, probably from the alcohol and heat, though Suoh secretly wished it was from the kiss too. Maybe...

"We're leaving," he grunted, dragging Munakata outside away from the club.

"What was that?" Munakata said loudly, his ears adjusting to the outdoors.

"Stupid assholes like that were going to hit on your pretty boy face all night. I couldn't keep protecting you," Suoh growled.

"Oya? I didn't need protection," Munakata said, yanking his hand away. "I was actually about to duck under his arm and move around him. He wasn't a very intelligent man, it would've been easy to get away. And yet, you felt the need to kiss me?! Why?! What were you trying to prove!? You could've just pulled me away-"

"Ya' didn't see the way he was looking at ya'. I was-" Suoh stopped, turning around to look at Munakata's frowning face. What exactly was he trying to do? "Forget it...let's just go. I'll walk ya' back," Suoh grumbled, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked silently ahead.

"Ah yes, all is well now. You said 'forget it', so now we can move on!" Munakata called out. Obviously the alcohol had hit him by now, and he kept talking as the two of them made their way back to the pianist's apartment. "You kiss me, give me my first kiss, for practically no reason, but of course we drop it, because making Suoh talk is far too much effort for his lazy behind," Munakata rambled.

"Shut up," Suoh grumbled, his brow twitching angrily. "Or I'll kiss ya' again just to make ya'."

"Oya, oya!" Munakata chuckled, walking faster to walk next to Suoh. "I think you want to kiss me more!" he teased, which only made Suoh walk faster.

He did not wish to kiss Munakata again. He'd only done it to stop the other asshole from kissing him. The man was insufferable, and completely obnoxious, especially now he was slightly tipsy or borderline drunk.

"I don't," Suoh said finally. "I was tryin' to help," he scoffed, stopping outside of Munakata's apartment building. "Just...helpin' you experience crap."

Munakata chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you certainly succeeded this evening."

Suoh stared at Munakata's red cheeks. His face was flushed, and his breath was heated enough to make a cloud when he breathed out into the cool air. No, he definitely did...not want to kiss Munakata again. He clenched his fists in his pockets. "Yeah, welcome."

"I suppose I'll see you Monday then," Munakata said, his voice softer.

"Right, Monday."

"Until then," Munakata said, turning away from Suoh to head towards the lobby of his apartment complex.

Suoh let out a long sigh, pulling out a cigarette. He began to walk away, wondering what the inside of Munakata's apartment looked like.

#mikoreiweek2017 #mikorei #munakata reisi #suoh mikoto #K project #K project fanfiction #AU #chaptered #Cacophony #Day 1 Fascination #fanfiction