#have i been to drake’s house? yeah

[enha-stars]

“dear adonis” is such a fucking terrifying line

#okay i know i’m canadian #but i’m on kendrick’s side bro #ion like drake 😭😭😭 #have i been to drake’s house? yeah #but is not my homie pls #BRO IS GETTING EATEN ALIVE ITS INSANE #HOW DO U XOME BACK FROM THIS? #the a minor chord is also so fucking scary #kendrick is terrifying pls #j cole is so smart for tapping our early #AND METRO LMAOO SO UNSERIOUS PLS #drake #kendrick lamar #metro boomin #j cole #enha!me

[emry-stars-art]

I hate drake so much i hope he dies a painful death in your royal AU 😡

Fairly certain this is gonna be a common agreement yes

Honestly in one version of events I just imagine Drake making a stupid mistake in a battle or border dispute and getting himself killed like a coward or an idiot because he is both of those things

In ANOTHER version I was talking about with @jtl-fics and @paradoxolotl we can make it as dramatic as we want ✨

And honestly I’ve been meaning to write it! I even started writing it, but as I went I realized it has the potential to get wayyy out of hand by way of scenes (in that it would become several scenes bc there’s so much to cover) so instead of waiting to be fully finished, I am going to give us all an early sparknotes or summary of events

What I DID write all the way was what might happen when Abram and the prince run into Spear at a ball/event: here.

(⬆️POV you are a very stupid baron and you’ve just made your very last mistake)

Find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕

After all that (the snippet) goes down, Spear is probably very angry. How dare the prince act so ungrateful to his family, how dare he be threatened by the Evermore mutt, and how dare he be publicly embarrassed like that. He’s too proud to even go fume about it on his own. He’s always had people and things to take his anger out on. So he reverts back to what he knows.

No one in the castle stops him on his search of the halls. They all recognize the Spear family - of course the Spears visited often, at least before, and often enough to send their prince to live with them. The twins and anyone else in the know about the prince’s time there are extremely private about it. The staff that see Spear have no reason to think anything of his presence at all.

But Abram is still standing watch at Andrew’s door, and he doesn’t seem about to leave. Spear likely thinks it doesn’t matter much - the brat is small and unassuming except for those nasty scars. Abram even gets distracted by a small crash coming from the direction of the stairs, wandering a little way down to see.

It should have been obvious not to underestimate an official royal bodyguard. Spear hasn’t even touched the door before Abram is there, pinning an arm behind his back as something sharp again presses to Spear’s jacket. The surprise knocks Spear against the prince’s door before Abram pulls him up and back a few steps.

Andrew does answer. Likely he thought it was Abram knocking, but as soon as he sees Spear he freezes. Spear doesn’t even have time to revel in the fear he caused - Abram uses all his weight to swing Spear around and shove him hard against the far wall. What Spear vainly thought was an empty threat before feels suddenly much more real, the way Abram doesn’t try to be at all gentle or careful. The blade is biting into Spear’s clothes.

And Spear is angry. The Evermore filth on him, the gall to treat Spear like this when Spear should be allowed to trample this brat under his horse. The brat thinking he had any say over the Palmetto prince.

He snarls, “Andrew, control your dog!”

And he doesn’t see it, but that snaps a little of Andrew’s panic. The only thing more potent than Andrew’s memories is his white hot anger at Abram’s, and even though Abram doesn’t react, Andrew absolutely refuses to let that slide.

Spear hears, “Dont let him touch you,” and then he’s released. Finally, he can get a little justice for this treatment. He turns and raises a hand to strike Abram.

Abram takes off his hand as he swings.

Andrew gets full oversight on Spear’s punishment. They have him convicted of untoward behavior, trespassing, and then Andrew allows ‘attempted destruction or harm of royal property’ only when he’s told it adds heavy consequence.

Really, it doesn’t matter all that much. Everyone in that room for the proceedings knows why he’s really there, and maybe those three charges wouldn’t always add up to a death sentence, but Aaron has been waiting for this chance. He adds ‘intention of treason’ to the trespassing charge and tells Andrew to do what he will.

Andrew doesn’t let Abram near it when they carry out the sentence. He does go through with some of his plans for Drake - he won’t ever make Drake pay 1:1 for what he’s done, but the magnitude would have been similar, had they gotten that far. They don’t, though. Andrew is doing just fine watching the proceedings, letting it pass through his eyes and ears and only be remembered when he really wanted. He had been sure he wanted this, he’d been sure it would be satisfying and cathartic. But he wasn’t feeling those things as much as he should have been.

Part of the punishment for treason is flogging. Andrew sees the strikes fall and it looks vaguely familiar. He’s seen those wounds and scars before. And suddenly it comes to him all at once; he doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to watch this. He just wants Drake dead. He wants Abram.

So he moves for the first time in several minutes.

“Enough. I’m finished.”

Aaron gives him a look but gestures to the soldiers or whoever else. Andrew stands and goes to leave and there’s a scuffle behind him, yells and pounding feet. Something unsheathed and then a heavy, sickening thud. Maybe even a cut off scream.

Even then he doesn’t turn around. He can’t make himself. Spear had charged him, he understands distantly. He doesn’t know who was just struck, but the only person that should have been so close to him was his brother.

He whispers, “…Aaron?”

“Go, Andrew,” Aaron says quietly, and Andrew finally breathes again. “Abram is waiting.”

So Andrew does go, and he spends a long time holding Abram, assuring himself that Abram is there in one piece and isn’t being harmed, Drake is no longer there and can’t harm anyone else. Maybe this is far enough in that Andrew can even let himself be held, too. So he does find the catharsis and satisfaction, but not in watching Drake suffer. Just in the fact that Abram allows him close enough to hold, to play with his hair, to fall asleep there curled up in the middle of his bed. Unused mattress to every side and no space between them.

#this man.... angers me #and yeah I still don’t have a read on the Spear house’s title #like I had them as Duke/Duchess #but I think Baron is a little lower on that totem pole #and there’s just something about Drake and Abram being the same rank that… I do not appreciate #ANYWAY that’s why this is very much a wip #we don’t gotta worry about it now #all that matters is that Drake is ✨gone✨ #also rest assured if Abram wasn’t between them and Andrew had a weapon #Abram would not have been the one taking off Spear’s hand for the dog comment #and also also #ash the ‘curled up in the middle of Andrew’s big ass royal bed’ just for u #bc it’s SO sweet #but I must be done here #fan art #my art #my writing #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #royal au #dan wilds #aaron minyard #drake spear #asks #anon

[deadsetobsessions]

“Did this place pick up a ghost when I was dead or something?”

Tim whipped his head towards Jason, who looked mildly perturbed.

“You too?!” Tim demanded.

“What?”

“The ghost! I kept thinking it was a hallucination, you know? But even when I laid off of the caffeine, there’d be a fucking shadow at the edge of my vision! At night! You saw it too, right?” Tim rambled, increasingly agitated. “It even moves the fucking coffee mugs! I know where I left my favorite mug, and it sure as hell wasn’t in the sink!”

Jason blinked at him, face morphing into concern.

“Replacement, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

Tim inhaled. “Jason, I swear to god I will replace all of the shampoo in your twenty six safe houses with glitter glue if you don’t tell me whether you saw it or not.”

Jason nodded immediately. In his defense, Tim grew up to be a scary motherfucker. Diabolical little shit would have been a fucking terrifying villain.

“I knew it.”

——

Danny hummed. Tim was going to freak when he found his cowl three inches to the left.

He merrily avoided all of the set up cameras by simply going invisible and intangible, save for his arms that he uses to sweep the cowl to the side.

He could hear the static on the cameras. Danny grinned. Operation Gaslight, Ghostkeep, Girlboss is on.

——

“Tim-” Dick started, only to be cut short by Tim whirling around and jabbing a painful finger into his chest.

“You owe me this, for that Arkham comment when B went missing.”

Dick raised his hands in surrender, guilt flaring.

“Drake, what kind of pointless scheme are you getting us in, now?”

“Not now, demon brat.” Jason elbows the kid. “Just go along with it.”

“Look.”

“Well. I guess we were right, yeah, Tim?” Duke muttered, eyeing the moved cowl. “My ghost-sight isn’t seeing anything. Not even wind movement.”

“What’s going on, boys?”

“B, there’s a ghost in the manor.”

“He’s freaking out because it moved his coffee mug like three times.” Steph chimed in.

——

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen anything weird, lately?”

Danny tilted his head. “No…?”

“Not even in the house?” Jason asked.

“Shadows? Anything?” Dick asked, eye bags prominent on the normally exuberant man. Danny snickered inwardly. They’ve been up for three days trying to “catch” the ghost.

“Uh. I mean the floorboards creak sometimes? But in terms of shadows… I think I saw them outside? Kind of looked like Batman, actually. But my eyesight gets bad at night. Why?”

Danny could see in the dark just fine.

“Nothing! Let me know if you see anything, okay?”

“Uh. Sure? Maybe you guys should… get some sleep?”

“Uh-huh.”

The bats file out of his room.

——

Danny locked glowing green eyes with Tim and Dick. He did some quick thinking and contorted his ectoplasm into something more grotesque.

“Kkkhggggghkkkkeeee!!!” He screeched.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” The two of them screamed, both bolting and throwing things at him. It was impressive how fast they backpedaled.

“That was close,” Danny muttered. He quickly scribbled on Damian’s whiteboard with conspiracy theories and dipped before the rest of the bats came thundering.

He fell into a light sleep just as Stephanie checked up on him, work done.

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #red hood #nightwing #danny is a little shit #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #danny haunting the manor #taking ‘haunt’ to a literal degree #damian wayne #Robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #cass is back in Hong Kong so she’s not here to witness this stupidity

[jaylver]

PINKY RING — S.JY

synopsis: setting up a deal with a frat boy you've just met at a party turned out to be a stupidly cute idea. who knew his drake reference and the deal involving his pinky ring would soon score him a date with you.

pairings: frat boy!jake x afab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, frat boy + football player jake, college au, romance, fluff

warning(s): profanities, party, alcohol

wc: 2.9k

a/n: a very late contribution to jakeday! this was much longer than planned so i hope you all enjoy it! apologies in advance if the writing sucks since i've been tired all week T-T please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Wandering into a frat party alone was quite literally the least sane thing you've done in a while.

Your best friend, Yunjin, had called you up to meet her at a frat party at the most random hour of the night. The temptation got to you for the worst as you caved in and placed aside your studies in order to get some free booze, even if they're low budget ones.

That only explained why you were there then. Looking between your phone and the sight before you as you walked, trying to get a hold of your friend. She was probably somewhere wasted and you wouldn't be surprised if it was true. 

Once you sent her a text announcing your arrival and hoping for a text back, you slipped your phone away and wandered into the kitchen area, further from the crowded area filled with people dancing quite scandalously.

Whatever dodgy concoction they had prepared there, you took some and sniffed it before taking a sip, shrugging in half approval. You'd take what you have. Soon, you settled yourself in by leaning against the counter, pulling out your phone as it had started buzzing.

You were distracted by the chiming of your phone, realising Yunjin texted back and you immediately replied back. She was, in fact, somewhere in the house, except she was with a guy. Wait, a frat boy, Jay Park? Oh, you've heard of him. 

You didn't want to say much and just texted her back to call you when it's time to leave, or if she's even leaving at all. Meanwhile, you were unaware of the additional presence who had wandered into the kitchen as you typed out your last text.

“Oh—hey,” 

You glanced up from your phone the moment you pressed 'send', staring back at a guy that you swore you've seen somewhere before, he was too familiar. He wasn't just a guy though, he was a hot one. Backwards cap on, dressed in a casual black hoodie and ripped jeans, dyed blond hair peeking out from his cap. 

That was a sight to see. 

“Hey,” you could tell he wasn't expecting your presence in the kitchen just the same as you were.

The corner of his lips twitched, head tilted to one side. “New around here? I think this is the first time I've seen you at our party,”

Our? Was he a part of the frat?

“I don't usually wander into frat parties,” you shrugged, and he nodded, smiling. 

“I'm Jake, by the way. Jake Sim. I'm a part of the frat, we usually have these types of parties on the weekend,” he extended his hand out for a handshake, to which you accepted, staring a little too longingly at his pretty hands and fingers. Don’t be a creep. 

“Am I missing out? I'm Y/N L/N,”

“Well, Y/N, maybe you are,” an apparent accent flowed from his voice, and the way he said your name shouldn't have made you scream inside. “You should come by more often, I'd love to see more of you here,”

“We'll see. I wasn't even meant to be here, but my friend called and I thought ‘why not’ so here I am,”

“It's fated, then. We're meant to meet,” he clapped, lips stretched into a cheery smile that had you swooning.

“I suppose it is,” you let him join your side in leaning against the counter, feeling the fabric of his hoodie brushing against your bare skin. “You know, you look very familiar to me, I think I've seen you before,”

“Yeah?” His tongue swept across his bottom lip, eyebrow quirking with interest.

“Football team. It's you, isn't it? The striker,”

“How did you know?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and you were in disbelief as well. He was much different compared to what you remembered.

“My friend's on the team too, Kim Sunoo,”

“Him!"

“Yes, him! I went to one of the matches and you scored in it, it was a great match," you could still recall the faint memory of Jake scoring, his name blasting from the speakers, back when his hair was coloured black.

“Wow,” Jake stared in amazement, his smile never wavered, only widening. “We're much connected than I thought,”

“We are,” you couldn't help smiling as well, finding his energy contagious and severely intoxicating. You had to turn around and take a sip of your drink as a way to not become flustered around him, but only to notice the rings resting on his fingers.

“Nice rings,” you complimented, and it seemed to be his turn to become flustered. Immediately bringing his hands up for you to look closer and showcasing his rings.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding pleased.

“You have a pinky ring too?” You pointed at his pinky, noticing the silver ring gleaming under the light.

“Pinky ring till I get a wedding ring,”

It didn't hit you until a beat later. He was quoting Drake. 

“Drake? Seriously?” A teasing grin travelled to your lips, nudging him slightly ever so naturally. He didn't complain, just reciprocated your smile, seemingly glad that you caught onto his reference.

“Hey, I'm a big fan. Sue me,”

“No judgement, I like Drake too,” you spoke your half truth, shrugging lightly.

Jake turned to look at you, a light sparkling in his eyes, telling you he had something in mind. “Hey, why don't I give you my pinky ring, and the next time we meet, you give it back to me?”

“What?”

“Let fate decide our next meeting. If we bump into each other again, you hand me back my ring, and I'll get your number. Deal?”

“Sounds good,” why were you doing this?

Even as your consciousness was telling you what stupid idea this was, you couldn’t help but feel confident. There was definitely a next time. You were sure of it. Even after Jake slipped his ring onto your pinky, feeling his skin graze against yours, you were confident that fate would bring you to him, or even him to you.

You bid him a small goodbye, watching his bright energy disappear through the door and be left with yourself, wanting him to come back. Did Yunjin and you somehow suddenly share the same taste in men? Frat boys?

Soon, you abandoned your drink and walked out of the kitchen into the party scene. To your relief, you spotted Yunjin waving at you, a tall boy with silver hair standing right beside her. That was probably Jay.

“Oh my God, I thought I lost you,” she engulfed you into one of her warm hugs while you didn't miss the lovesick smile she always had whenever she was around a crush.

“I would say the same for you,” you nudged her slightly, eyeing her romeo of the night.

“Oh—Jay, this is my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jay,” Yunjin introduced, and Jay gave you a friendly hug as a greeting. Off the bat, you could tell he was a decent guy despite being in a frat.

“You're not joining your friends for beer pong?” Yunjin pointed out to Jay and you took notice of said beer pong going on across the room. 

There he was. Jake. Standing out amongst the bunch of guys that were most likely his friends, catching your attention in an instant. His baseball cap was no longer worn backwards, sleeves rolled up and showcasing the protruding veins decorating the expanse of his arm. He was holding onto a ping pong ball, aiming at one of the red shot cups and eventually shot it in successfully, letting out a loud laugh while throwing his arms up into a flexing pose and hitting his chest.

What a frat boy. But you think he's a cute frat boy. He was an exception.

“Should we leave soon?” Yunjin had to poke your shoulder to gain your attention back to her. At that realisation, you visibly flushed a tinge of pink, coughing and nodding rather stiffly. You could tell your best friend was suspicious of you, but didn’t press on and told you Jay was dropping you two off.

What you didn’t catch onto as you left the room was Jake’s lingering gaze on you. 

He was going to get his ring back. He was confident about it.

“You’re telling me you’re missing Jay’s friend?”

“I am doing exactly that,”

He wasn’t just Jay’s friend, he was also his frat brother. Yet, Jay was oblivious you two knew each other, or at least that’s what you think in your perspective. 

Telling Yunjin about your happenings from that party was both a good and bad decision. The good part was that she was happy for you. The bad part was realising how predictable you were. In her words, she knew you would fall for Jake especially since you had a weak spot for men with cute smiles. Dammit.

It has been a week since that night at the frat house. To be honest, you could be crazy and just go back to find Jake, but were you going to chase a man like that? No, wake up! But, you were also shamelessly missing him and mulling over the fact that the ring was still on your pinky. 

“This is so stupid, why is he waiting on fate to act?”

“I think it’s cute,”

“You’re hopeless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes, but you just laughed, because you, too, knew it was dumb. A stupid game that tortured you but you enjoyed the anticipation as well. “Anyway, Jay’s going to a football match later in the evening, apparently the team is playing. Before you say no, consider this, he’s paying for dinner after,”

“I like him,” you gave her your seal of approval, and from the looks of her giddy smile, she was satisfied. 

Yunjin was more than happy when she led you through the stands, locating where Jay was sitting. You threw a knowing glance at her, to which she noticed and only rolled her eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile, saving an even brighter smile for your best friend. It was sickening, but in an affectionate way. 

Realising how you were third wheeling, you took the queue and left, wandering down the stands to get a closer look at the field. You figured that'd be a better idea now that you realised the team was warming up there.

“Y/N!” you were barely halfway down the stairs when you heard your name being called, a familiar face running towards you. 

“Jake!” You jogged a little, reaching the barrier that separated the stands and the field, essentially separating you and Jake as well.

“You're here! At a football game,” he breathed out in a daze, as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him.

“Jay brought me and Yunjin here,” you slyly pointed at the duo that sat further up the stands, meeting Jake's playful smirk. You two had the same thought in mind. “Oh right—pinky ring,”

You raised up your right hand, his ring still wrapped around your pinky. At that, Jake's eyes only lit up, flickering between your face and the ring, his smile growing wider.

“You wear it everywhere?”

A rush of heat spread across your cheeks, you found yourself shying away from his gaze. “I didn't know where I'd find you,”

“Guess you finally found me, and I found you too,”

“I'm glad,” you fidgeted the ring mindlessly, looking between it and Jake before you realised the deal. "Should I hand it back to you first?”

“No—wait—maybe after the game?” His indecisiveness was killing him, and having you standing in front of him, it made him extra jittery, he was grateful the barriers were there. “I have a feeling you wearing it will somehow pass on good luck to me,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a smile pulling at your lips. “Don't know how that works, but I'll do whatever you say,”

“It's true! It's called intuition. I'll win the game and score a goal,” he said ever so confidently, a grin that was challenging your doubts. 

“I believe you,” you said in between giggles, unaware of Jake's smile growing wider as he watched you laugh. “Go and win this one like you always do,”

“I will! Meet me after the game! Get your number and the ring ready,” he casted a wink at you, waving a small momentary goodbye before joining his team back in warming up. 

You eventually joined the two lovebirds and waited for the game to start, a certain feeling of giddiness bubbling in your abdomen. When it was finally time, you watched intently as the referee blew the whistle and the home team began the game. The number five on his back was easy to detect, your eyes followed it the whole time as he ran past defenders and scored a goal.

You and your friends jumped out of your seats in excitement. Yelling and cheering the moment you heard his name being blasted from the speakers. He did prove you right, he scored a goal. The next thing you knew before you could even process it was him pointing up at you. It was clearly directly at you, no mistake at all. As cliche it could get, he sent you a flying kiss, and you only matched his energy, catching it and laughing like some school girl.

He was soon tackled by his teammates and whisked away to resume the game. You were left in the stands smiling like a fool, unable to hide your happiness and blushing cheeks even though people around you had witnessed it whole, including your own friends. But who cares, right?

The game ended with the home team winning and obviously, everyone was in great spirits after. You told Yunjin that you’re finding Jake first, and as she left with Jay, you swore you heard him asking ‘since when did they know each other?’ 

Heading down the stands, you spotted Jake immediately. The team was still lingering around the field, but the second Jake’s eyes landed on you, he excused himself and ran towards you. The widest smile was present on his face, he was shining brightly under the dark skies. 

“Hey!” he pulled you in a hug, reaching over the barrier for you. He was sweaty, but you didn’t mind it. It was his presence and tight hold that you focused on.

“Congrats on the win! You did great,” you said as you pulled away, reciprocating his smile. 

“Thank you. It’s nothing,”

“Okay, you scoring a goal is not ‘nothing’,”  

“But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes at him, hating that he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Whatever,” you said dismissively, earning a light laugh from him. You took the chance to slip the ring off your pinky, taking his hand in yours, instantly surprising him since it was a totally unexpected move. “Your pinky ring, as promised,”

“Oh, almost forgot,” he let you slip the ring back to the original spot, feeling your touch on his skin and reeling from your close proximity. 

“As for my number … I’ll give it to you once you’re done, I don’t have anything to write on,” you waved your phone in hand, casting him an apologetic smile.

“It’s totally fine. Will you be willing to wait?”

“I’m alright with it. I thought you’re joining us for dinner?”

“Right, Jay told me,” he snapped his fingers, recalling his friend’s text message. How could he have forgotten? He almost asked you out for dinner later as a date. 

“He’s paying,”

“Sweet,” he basically hollered, punching the air stiffly and you laughed at his demeanour. He’s so weird, but in a cute way.

Jake was biting on his lips once a short silence settled between you two. You could tell he was pondering and thinking about his next words. That sweet smile returned back to his lips. “Can I take you out for dinner soon?”

How could you say no?

“I’m down. Definitely yes,”

Jake almost looked relieved, but there was also a sparkle that you saw in his eyes that shined brightly once you’ve given him your answer. You could feel your own heart swelling at the sight of him. His gaze held everything he needed to say. He stared at you with a kind of longing and pining that you couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Great, fantastic,” Jake whispered under his breath, seemingly in disbelief and his dazed look only made you giggle. “I’ll catch up with you after I shower, give me some time and wait for me!”

“I will! The three of us will wait for you so go wash up,”

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in surrender, hesitant to walk away as he wished to talk to you more, but he stank and was covered with sweat, so he didn’t have much choice. 

“Wait for me!” he said, slowly inching away with the silliest grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. 

You responded by gesturing your thumbs up, watching as he turned his back on you, but not even a second later he turned his head back, a small smile still remained. He then started jogging towards the benches, and you definitely didn’t miss his excited jump. 

How were you supposed to survive that dinner date with an endearing, sweet and cute guy like him? 

The truth was, you weren’t.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake x reader #jake sim #jake sim imagines #jake sim drabbles #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen headcanons #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake oneshot #jake sim fluff #enhypen blurbs

[bedsyandco]

TRIP TO TORONTO

yn.matthews

liked by austonmatthews, mitchmarner, and others.

yn.matthews: I’m here for a good time, not a long time. guess who Toronto🫣👀

view comments

mitchmarner: did you just quote drake at us?

yn.matthews: and if I did?🤨

mitchmarner: how long have you been in town?

yn.matthews: I got here a few hours ago…

mitchmarner: and you haven’t come to see me yet? 🤨

yn.matthews: don’t use my emojis. ur too old for them🙃

mitchmarner: emojis don’t have an age. and don’t age shame.

yn.matthews: sounds like something an old person would say 💀

mitchmarner: I see you brought your Arizona manners with you 🧍‍♂️

austonmatthews: HEY!

matthewknies: yeah HEY!

morganrielly: remember when we talked about how you guys have each others numbers and some discussions could be had with texts? this is one of those

yn. matthews: yes mr. tessa virtue 🫡

papi34: she’s fkn gorgeous bro😩

bruins33: don’t know how she’s related to auston 💀

leafs3416: mini matts is back in town? no way. we’re about to go on a heater

yn.matthews

liked by matthewknies, colecaufield, and others.

yn.matthews: missed seeing him play. #34’s biggest fan💙

view comments

austonmatthews: 💙😁

papi34: ur gonna have to move to toronto if they play like that every time you go to a game

torontomapleleafs: always good to have you in the house💙

leafsfan: all of leafs nation has the biggest crush on you rn

user32: not just leafs nation it looks like 👀

user21: yeah no. cole thinking he’s slick with the like💀

matthewknies: blue is your colour 😍

user16: oh? okayyyy kniesy

leafsforever: easy now. auston might have you traded

torontomapleleafs

torontomapleleafs: the boys are looking sharp tonight 💙

view comments

yn.matthews: hopefully my future checks are as big as his forehead

maxdomi: 💀💀💀

austonmatthews: think it’s time to ship you back to AZ

yn.matthews

liked by matthewknies, mitchmarner, and others.

yn.matthews: toronto is stealing my heart. might need to stay a while 🙃🥰

view comments

matthewknies: I mean Toronto is pretty great. lots to do. lots to see😌

mitchmarner: sure. toronto is stealing your heart.

yn.matthews: 👀

user23: I mean we all know that’s Kniesy right ??

user21: looks like him

austonmatthews: would be so nice to have you close. if that’s the one positive thing this relationship brings, I guess I can deal with it

yn.matthews: the ONE positive thing?? what about my happiness

austonmatthews: that too I guess 🧍‍♂️

#matthew knies x reader #matthew knies fic #matthew knies fluff #matthew knies fanfic

[cryptictongues]

To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece. 

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same. 

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock. 

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

-

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time. 

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield. 

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.” 

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.” 

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures. 

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end. 

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.  

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick. 

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look. 

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.” 

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath. 

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.” 

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.” 

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.” 

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own. 

“May I try something?” 

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him. 

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.” 

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

-

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it. 

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood. 

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him. 

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.” 

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him. 

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-” 

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you. 

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?” 

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him. 

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic. 

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt. 

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you. 

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.” 

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses. 

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds. 

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers. 

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself. 

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way. 

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman. 

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone. 

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment. 

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?” 

“Anything for you, my dearest.” 

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

#joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield fluff #joshua rosfield smut #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi #joshua rosfield #joshua x reader #my fics #final fantasy xvi

[darkeralmond]

Do you write smut for conrad fisher? If you do can you do a jealous conrad x reader? thank you!!

i do now! thank you so much for requesting ILY anon ❤️❤️

WANNA BE YOURS

Conrad Fisher x fem! Reader

summary: You and Conrad were at a party for Belly’s birthday hosted by Nicole. You were stranded by Conrad and notice a guy alone on the couch. You decide to be friendly and talk to him before dancing with him. Conrad and you get into an argument over this until you say the thing he’s been waiting to hear.

warnings: 18+, smut, angry Connie, car sex, penetration, she/her pronouns, arguing, vulgar language, Conrad calling you “good girl”, dirty talk

word count: 1.9k

a/n: connie is a popular guy in my request board 😭, not complaining tho i love him!! thank you again for the request!! P.S. I LOVE ARTIC MONKEYS AND PAXTON H-Y!!!

masterlist | request info

The music was loud in your ears as you entered the crowded living room. Conrad had left you alone to go find out where Steven was, but all the people in one space triggered your claustrophobia.

You looked over and saw a guy sitting by himself on the couch with a look of defeat on his face. There were people dancing all around him while he chugged whatever substance he had in his red solo cup. Usually, you don’t feel sympathy for strangers, but something about this guy made your heart wrench.

You approached him. “You alright?” Sure, it’s weird when a stranger asks others how they’re feeling, but some people need to vent to someone they don’t know.

He looked up at you with red eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was high or if he had been crying. He sniffled, “Yeah, uh, I caught my girl cheating on me with my homeboy upstairs.”

Shit. “Oh,” you replied.

You sat down next to him while he explained, “It’s chill. She was a bitch anyway.” He brought his cart up to his lips and took a hit. He was high. “You wanna hit?” He offered it to you.

You shook your head, “I’m straight edge.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “The fuck is straight edge?”

You laughed at his reaction. It was the same one every person had when you told them the same answer. “That means I chose to stay sober.” Your thought process was by staying sober, it helped you avoid all the drama that starts when you’re black out drunk. Drunk confessions, drunk fighting, the list goes on. “It just helps me stay out of trouble.”

He exhaled smoke from his lips and nose. “Ohhhh,” he laughed. “Respect.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You then looked out at everyone dancing and having a good time. “Why don’t we dance?”

He smiled, “Sure.” The two of you got up from the couch and went to the middle of the living room. The Motto by Drake and Lil Wayne played over the speaker, the bass shaking the whole house. Due to all the people crammed in one room, you and the mystery guy danced fairly close to each other. “Hey, what’s your name?” he yelled over the music.

“Y/N!” you shouted back. “What’s yours?”

“Noah!” Noah yelled. You nodded your head while smiling. The two of you danced while screaming the lyrics to the song. “You’re really cool, Y/N! I think we’d make great friends!”

“What do you mean? You’re stuck with me now!” You and him laughed. That’s when you spotted someone familiar pushing through the crowd. It was your boyfriend finally coming back from his search. “Conrad, hey!” You waved. “Did you find Steven?”

He completely ignored your question, his eyes set on the guy who you were dancing with. “Get away from my girl.” He stepped in front of you.

“Woah, man. We weren’t doing anything.” Noah held up his hands defensively.

“Conrad, stop!” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s fine! We’re just chilling.”

He scoffed in response, “I recommend staying away from Y/N. We’re going home.”

“Conrad-”

“We’re going home.” He cut in.

He sounded pissed, it made your guy twist as you looked back at Noah. “Sorry about him,” you said with a frown on your face.

“Don’t stress about it, maybe I’ll see you around.” He waved bye as you got dragged out of the house by Conrad.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you yelled as the two of you left the house. “Am I not allowed to make friends now? Why don’t you ever trust me?”

He rolled his eyes, “I trust you! I just don’t trust that guy!”

You yelled, “You don’t even know him!”

“Neither do you! You don’t know what his intentions were, Y/N!” His eyes were wide with anger as he looked into yours, the veins in his neck strained. “Get in the car.” The car beeped as he unlocked the doors.

You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone, so you just did as he said and got in the passenger’s seat. You folded your arms over your chest and stared out the window. He got in the driver’s seat next to you and started the car before putting it into drive mode. “Just so you know, his girlfriend cheated on him and he was by himself,” you mumbled while pouting.

“Y/N,” he said. This gave you a glimpse of hope that he’d finally listen to you, but he then followed it up by, “I don’t fucking care.”

You rolled your eyes and frowned, shaking your head. “You’re a fucking child.” He didn’t say anything, he just kept driving.

The radio quietly played music, the air was tense as you refused to look at him. He stopped the car at a red light. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up. “I get really insecure, babe, and I just want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

You looked over at him, your expression softened as you said, “Connie, I’m yours.” You placed your hand over his that draped over the shift stick.

He glanced over at you and saw your innocent expression. You knew something instantly changed in him as you noticed his demeanor swiftly change. “Say that again,” he breathed.

Now it clicked. It turned him on to know that you and your body was for him and him only. You batted your lashes and smiled deviously. “I’m all yours, Connie,” you teased.

He stared at you longer, his breath slightly hitched. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. When the light turned green, he took a turn that was the opposite way of both your guys’ homes.

“Conrad?” you said, concern present in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pulling the car over so we can fuck.” Butterflies swarmed in your stomach due to the assertiveness in his voice. He pulled the car over close to the beach where there were no lights except for the car’s headlights. “You fine with that?”

You nodded your head, “Y-Yeah.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and look up at him. Conrad’s hand reached up to the side of your neck and connected his lips with yours.

He was hungry for your kiss touch. He was desperate for his hands to be all over your delicate body. He pushed into you, his tongue slowly licking the seam of your mouth, which led to a more forceful kiss. He gripped the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer.

You broke away and smirked. The anger from the argument earlier melted into lust. He slightly leaned the seat back as you climbed over the center console. You rested on his lap, your legs straddling him. He moaned as you kissed along his jaw line, then his chin before leaning down to his neck and sucking on it.

His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you closer, making sure you could feel his hardening erection against your lower body. “My… job is to make you… mhm… feel good,” he said between moans.

You pulled away, “What? I’m not allowed to be in control?” This won a chuckle out of him. “I’m kidding, go ahead. I already said I’m yours.”

He ran his fingers through your hair while biting his bottom lip. “That’s my good girl,” he husked before locking his lips to your neck.

Your back arched off his lap as he sucked harshly on your pulse point, your breathing became heavy and erratic.

Your hands found their way onto his hair as he continued working his way down your neck. You couldn’t tell who was taking control anymore; the two of you were too busy focusing completely on each other. Your body began reacting.

One of his hands came up to your hip, gripping tightly as another hand traveled to your breast. Both of his hands were touching the fabric of your shirt and caressing the skin underneath. A gasp escaped your lips as your hand found its way to his crotch. Your fingers brushed against his sensitive member, eliciting a moan out of him.

‘You like that, huh?’ you thought to yourself.

He suddenly let go of your breasts and grabbed your face gently with his hands, pulling your lips forcefully to his own. He kissed fiercely, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. He bit your lip causing you to moan, his hands moving from your face down to your ass. He started grinding against you roughly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

A loud moan fell from your lips as you bit your bottom lip. “Connie, just fuck me already,” you pleaded. “Stop edging!”

He chuckled, “You’re still on the pill, right?” You nodded your head eagerly. “Good.” He reached down to his pants which caused you to back up slightly. He unzipped the zipper and pulled down his boxers slightly to reveal his erection. You got up on your knees so you could pull your panties, that were soaked, off. He helped lift your skirt up and slip your panties down your thighs. Once they were off, he threw them to the car floor on the passenger’s side.

Slowly, he inserted himself in you. A gasp escaped out from you while Conrad groaned from the feeling of your warm walls. His thrusting was slow at a steady pace, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. He placed one hand on your thigh as his free hand gripped your ass. Your breathing grew shallow as the pressure building in your body increased.

“Oh god,” you whimpered.  “Please! Connie, I need you so bad!”

He continued to work his way into you until he slammed his pelvis against yours causing him to let out a loud grunt. He rasped, “You take me so well.”

As you continued to grind against him, he let out an animalistic growl. “God, Y/N, please,” he panted. You continued to grind against him, he was close, you knew it. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sounds that were begging to fall from your throat.

His grip on your leg tightened, causing you to cry out as a wave of pleasure that rocked through your whole body. “Connie,” you whined. “Cum for me, baby, cum inside me!”

He pounded faster and harder. You felt your walls tighten around him, squeezing his erection. As he came, you let out the loudest scream anyone has ever heard from you. You clamped your eyes shut and squeezed your thighs around his waist even harder to keep him in you.

After a few seconds you managed to open your eyes. You looked down at him and could see his face twisted in ecstasy, sweat drenched over his forehead. You felt something hot pool in the pit of your stomach. You leaned down to kiss him again before getting off him. You reached for your panties and slid them back on. “You feel better now?”

He nodded his head as he caught his breath. Both your faces were flushed red from the heat of the orgasm. After recovering from his orgasm, he smiled softly. He grabbed your hand and brought you closer to him once more, placing his lips on yours. “We should head back. It’s almost midnight. And I wanna have some fun with you somewhere more comfortable”

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

#conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher smut #tsitp conrad #tsitp x reader #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty

[thealtoduck]

Being the Riddler’s criminal sidekick…

Tim Drake x Male Reader

Warnings: superhero violence, implied child abuse, horrible parents, mentions of sex…

Summary: Tim meets the Riddler’s sidekick for the first time and finds himself quite charmed by him…

——

How did you end up as the Riddler’s right hand man?

Well, the answer was simple: ”Why not?”

You grew up in a rough household, your father was an deadbeat alchoholic and your mother had left him for the divorce lawyer and his house in the suburbs.

She left you, she left you alone with the man that she was escaping from, imagine the impact that has on a childs psyche.

So from then on you followed one rule: Trust no one.

When you entered your teenage years you escaped from your father as soon as possible on to the streets of Gotham. Which is no place for a child.

Soon you found your way into crime which also led you to the Riddler.

You were at a bar looking for a new job when you saw the Riddler trying to convince a couple of men to join him as his henchmen. They however were not convinced to join him though as they didn’t like the idea that he quite literally gives clues for the cops and Batman to find him.

You however saw it as an oppurtunity, Riddler was already infamous and if he was this desperate for help it might lead to you getting a bigger cut of whatever scheme he had come up with.

So when the other men left you walked over to the Riddler and sat down across from him. ”Looks like your having some trouble, what if i could be of some assistance” you said. ”Yeah, because a teenager is exactly the muscle my operation needs” he said sarcastically.

”Oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t see the line of people wating to work for you” you said sarcastically.

The Riddler then smirked and said ”You’re in”.

He took you to his lair and introduced to his henchwomen ”Query and Echo” who were dressed as what could only be described as S&M biker chicks.

You went on to become the Riddler’s own sidekick, he gave you the nickname ”Clue”. You had become his close follower as well as one of the only three people who could sass the Riddler without getting shot.

He even let you nickname him ”Eddie”

Though getting this job wasn’t only sunshine and rainbows, it put a bigger target on your back by the authorities. After a botched mission you were arrested and became the youngest person ever sent to Arkham Asylum.

Not that you really deserved to be there you weren’t a mass murdering maniac but your close association to the Riddler probably made people assume you were… that or the judge was feeling extra pissy that day in court.

While in Arkham you met both Penguin and Two Face who offred you a job but you decided to stick by Riddler.

And you were right to do so as he soon broke you out of Arkham.

Then it was back to work…

Two years later…

You, Riddler, Query and Echo had stolen valuables from a museum, that you, Query and Echo were now trying to calculate how much you could sell it for. Meanwhile Riddler was gloating about his genius riddles and traps he had left behind for the dynamic duo to find.

As if on cue Batman and Robin smashed right through the window landing in front of you, Query and Echo. ”Oh, Batsy and Sparrow, what a surprise!” you said sarcastically standing up.

”But an unwelcomed one at that, get him girls” you told the two henchwoman who swiftly attacked the Batman.

”Robin, go get Clue, i’ll take care of these two and find Riddler” Batman commanded his sidekick. The black-haired superhero ran towards you. You grabbed a baseball bat and pointed the end towards Robin. ”Been a while Dove, i’ve missed you”.

”Do you have a list of birds just to avoid saying my name?” Robin asked annoyed. ”You tell me Peacock” you taunted. Robin brought out his staff and you started exchanging blows.

He managed to disarm you from the bat with his staff. So you ran up to him and grabbed his staff and ripped it out of his hand and threw it aside and you continued your fight.

Your fight had brought you to a staircase and you playing dirty as usual pushed him down it. Though unfortunately enough for you he grabbed your jacket and pulled you down with him. When both of you landed at the bottom of the stairs, both of you were now twisting in pain.

”Not my best idea” you said to yourself you said rubbing your forehead in pain. ”You’ve ever had one?” Robin asked equally in pain making you glare at him. ”Can we take like a 3 minute break?” you asked sitting up leaning against a wall. ”Can’t believe i’m agreeing to this but sure” Robin said as he did the same.

Both of you were sweaty and breathing heavily from your fight. ”So… how’s your day been” you asked casually slipping a cigarette in to your mouth and lighting it. ”Your really asking me that?” he asked semi-annoyed and very confused. ”Yeah, why not?, want one?” You asked, offering him a cigarette. He shook his head still very confused how casual you were treating this.

Robin then looked around and stated ”Gotta admit for a secret villain lair this place is quite cozy”. ”Right, Query and Echo decorated it, my room is right down the hallway to the right, they helped me put together an Ikea bed”.

”So i’ll ask again, how was your day?” you asked casually taking another puff of the cigarette. Tim was confused by the casual conversation the two of you were having but maybe this would be a good distraction.

”It was decent, got a coffee, finished some work and you know now i’m here” Tim answered. ”Cool cool” you said blowing some smoke. ”How was your’s?” Robin asked.

”Good, i stole some stuff, it was fun” you said cheerfully and Robin gave what almost sounded like a small chuckle.

You then stared at him and asked with a cigarette between your lips ”Wanna fuck?”.

”What?!” Robin questioned loudly starting to cough from breathing in the smoke. ”Sorry, i just heard Batman gets it on with Catwoman so i assumed you know…” you said putting out the cigarette.

”I mean it’s not like that, you’re attractive and stuff, it’s just you know bad guy and all that stuff…” Robin said making you laugh. ”Yeah, it’s fine Parrot, i get it” you said while laughing. You then stood up ”Well, i gotta get going, bye bye birdy” and you started sprinting through the hallway.

Tim stood up to run after you but you pressed a button on a remote making a bunch turrets appear from the walls targeting him. Tim ran up the stairs the two of you had fallen down as they started shooting. He ran back to the main room where Batman was cuffing Riddler to a chair.

”Did you get Clue?” Batman asked. ”No, he got away” Tim answered disappointed. ”Echo and Query got away too, they’re probably regrouping” Batman explained.

They left as GCPD arrived to take Riddler away and Tim thought back on what Clue had said to him more specifically the ”Wanna fuck?” part, he found himself thinking ”What if i said ”Yes””.

#tim drake x male reader #tim drake x male!reader #robin x male reader #robin x male!reader #red robin x male reader #batman x male reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #batfam x male reader #batfamily x male reader

[letsgetrowdy43]

Dial tone dramatics—

Request: Luke and Adam teaming up and sending the UMich hockey team to look for the Hughes Sister. Sunny forgot her phone and went to a party with some friends. She felt she didn’t need to tell Adam or Luke since they were busy and would tell them afterwards.

Au Masterlist!!

Charlotte grinned as she applied the finishing touch on Sunny's make-up, glittery gloss to finish the going out look as she checked her phone again to see if their ride was ready to pick them up. "They're here!" she said rummaging around their dorm for her purse that she had misplaced once again.

Sunny threw on her cute going-out jacket as she tried to speed her roommate up, not needing to hear the continuous rant of Lottie's lack of time awareness. She pushed her roommate out the door and down the stairs to the car that was parked out front with their two other friends, and the sober boyfriend of the night who was driving them to and from the party they'd been invited to.

"Shit Lottie, I forgot my phone on the vanity," the girl groaned as she dug through her purse for the phone that wasn't there, "Can you text Adam or Luke to tell them we are going out and that I'm safe?" Charlotte nodded, barely listening as she sang along with the Drake song playing over the aux, "They don't need to know your every move babes!" Macy yelled over the blaring music as she turned to see Sunny nod. "I guess yeah"

Adam frowned as he tried to call the girl for the third time in the past hour, a confused look on his face as he flipped through random Snapchat stories to see the very drunk Charlotte, Sunny, and Macy scream-singing to Katy Perry.

Luke's contact popped up on his screen causing Adam's confusion to grow, "have you heard from Sunny, she hasn't responded to me all night" his tone concerned. "No I was trying to call her as well, I think she went out though?" Adam listened to Luke groan in annoyance. "She didn't tell you?" "She tried to call me while we were at practices, but other than that I don't think so?"

Adam ran a hand through his hair as he thought of a possible way to track the girl down, "I'll call Charlotte and see where they are," Adam said as Luke began texting Macy's boyfriend who was more than likely trying to wrangle them into his car.

"Adamo!! I missed your presence tonight!" the very drunk girl said on the other end. "Hey Lottie, is Sunny with you?" The girl gasped on the other end, "We left to get pizza and forgot her there, shit she was with some girls in our residence building," the girl rambled before pulling the phone away from her head to tell Macy's boyfriend to turn the car around. "Was it that Alpha Phi party?" Adam asked as he searched his pockets for his car keys. "Yeah, at the off-campus house" she said just before Adam hung up and texted Luke who texted the team group chat.

Sunny was beyond drunk, giggling as her newfound girlfriend sunk another pong ball in their competitions cup, "booo you suck," the girl on the opposite side of the table said as she downed the full cup of beer.

"Sunny oh my god," Rutger said as she caught his attention, a worried look on his face as he maneuvered his way around the kitchen to be by her side, "your boyfriend and brother are looking for you." "Adam's here!" she said looking around for her boyfriend who was nowhere to be found. "He's on his way sunshine."

Sunny's cup pong partner grinned as she nudged her new friend, "Who is this?" "Oh, this is Rutger, my brother's friend!" she grinned as she squished his cheeks. "I'm hurt that you don't consider us friends," Rutgers brows furrowed as he removed Sunny's hands from his face. "Oh sorry, this is Rut my best friend, Rut this is..." "Kayleigh" "This is Kayleigh, she lives in the dorm right next to mine and Lottie's," she said moving out of the way, patiently waiting for her loving boyfriend to find her just as Rutger had promised.

The hazy look in her eyes quickly disappeared as she was pulled through the crowd, a very angry Luke greeted her as he pulled her outside. "What were you thinking?" "I forgot my phone, Charlotte wasn't supposed to leave my side all night!" she defended as her brother ripped into her in front of a crowd of people. "That's a shit excuse, Sunny!"

Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her, "you okay?" "I'm fine, really, I found a group of girls that live in my building and wasn't gonna leave their side until I saw someone I knew and was safe enough to get me home," she mumbled into her boyfriend's chest as he ran a hand up and down her back, "I need some water and some sleep though"

Luke was still on a rant as Adam slid a sweater over her frame and brushed her hair out of her face, "she gets it, Luke, you can give her a talk tomorrow, but for now let's just get her home," Adam reasoned as Luke stopped his yelling and nodded shortly. "Make sure she calls me in the morning," the blonde said as he crossed his arms over his chest and death stared at his teammate. "Will do" "Keep her safe, love you both," Luke said before he made a beeline straight to his car.

Sunny let out a snort as she grinned up at her boyfriend, "Lukey loves youuu," she said in a singsong voice as Adam rolled his eyes at her drunk tactics. "Let's get you home, you smell like beer," he said before kissing her on the side of her head and leading her to his car.

-

-

-

#tinydancerau!! #adam fantilli #Adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli insta edit #adam fantilli imagine #Luke hughes #umich imagine #umich hockey #rutger mcgroarty #quinn hughes #jack hughes

[whyse7vn]

NOT UR BF? -

[ot7 x reader]

YOONGI -

y/n: if you’re in love with me say 1

yoongi: 24

y/n: 24 divided by 24 is 1

i knew you wanted me

yoongi: you know nothing

y/n: i know many things

yoongi: what did i eat for breakfast?

y/n: toast

yoongi: wtf

y/n: i literally made it for you??

yoongi: you were in my house??

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: leave me alone

y/n: wow you want me so bad

yoongi: ???

when did i say that

y/n: i’m flattered honestly

yoongi: get help

y/n: stop playing

yoongi: i never play

especially with you

y/n: that’s kinda hot tbh

yoongi: ew

y/n: don’t ew me

yoongi: ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew

y/n: i’m upset now

yoongi: good

y/n: yoongiiiiiii :c

yoongi: i do not want you

y/n: you do

yoongi: this is not how it works

y/n: we are in love

yoongi: no we are not

y/n: ur in love with me?

yoongi: yes

y/n: YES?

yoongi: NO

i didn’t mean that

typo

accident

y/n: WOW I ALWAYS KNEW IT

THIS REALLY IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

mark the date down

our anniversary 🥺💗

yoongi: i’m blocking you

y/n: babe :/

yoongi: stop

y/n: baby

yoongi: STOP

y/n: i like a dominant man

yoongi: i’m going to throw up

y/n: i’ll hold ur hair back for you

yoongi: i cut my hair

y/n: ur point?

yoongi: shut the fuck up??

y/n: ur making me blush

yoongi: ??

y/n: ??

yoongi: i’m leaving

y/n: not without me hahaha

yoongi: GO AWAY

TAEHYUNG -

y/n: i believe in us 💗

tae: me 2 go usa!!!

y/n: no like us

tae: no i get you

usa 🇺🇸 🦅🔥🔥❤️

i LOVEEE drake

y/n: he’s from canada

tae: no

y/n: yes

tae: go usa 🔥

y/n: you and me

us

not usa

tae: untied states?

is the us and usa not the same thing??

oh my god

this whole time….

people must think i’m so stupid oh my god

y/n: NO ur right

but i’m talking about US

like YOU taehyung and ME y/n

us

tae: us??

tf is us?

y/n: that’s what i’m trying to figure out

what ARE we??

tae: not american?

y/n: no tae

tae: OMG

HAVE YOU BEEN AMERICAN THIS WHOLE TIME??????

y/n: no LIKE OUR RELATIONSHIP

tae: how am i supposed to know the relationship between korea and america??

i mean it must be good since they let you in the country

right?

y/n: no

tae: IS IT BAD?????

ARE WE AT WAR OR SOMETHING OMG NO WAYYYYY

ig i’m never seeing drake live 😪

y/n: he’s still from canada

tae: i’m not following

y/n: clearly

tae: did i offend you?

yk i LOVE LOVE LOVE american culture guns and drake go lakers!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸❤️❤️❤️🔥🔥

y/n: kim taehyung i want you

tae: ??

to do what???

y/n: like i want you

relationship talk

as in romantically

me and you

i want that

us

tae: so the us is america?

y/n: let america go

tae: do you have truma in america?

is that why you’re in korea now??

wow

i never knew this

it’s crazy

how long have we been friends?(

wow

life is crazy

i’m sorry america did that to you

y/n: wow ur just…

wow

ok

thanks tae

tae: is drake a good person tho?

i mean i know america is bad due to ur truma and stuff but like drake is a good person right??

y/n: i’m going insane

tae: i’m sorry truma is never easy

do you know if drake has a dog maybe we can set up a play date

y/n: i am the dog

woof

tae: wait…

are you flirting with me rn lol

y/n: oh my god

JIMIN -

y/n: ok so

jimin: no thank you ❤️

y/n: if we dated

jimin: again no thank you ❤️

y/n: jimin

jimin: for the last time no thank you ❤️

y/n: i’ll change ur life

jimin: if i wanted to be and alcoholic i would of done so by now

y/n: i would NOT make you and alcoholic

jimin: this conversation is making me reach for the rum

y/n: who tf drinks rum 💀

jimin: me???

y/n: like you go out of ur way to pick rum?

jimin: yeah?

y/n: oh ok

nvm that stuff i said before

jimin: excuse me??

y/n: like the dating stuff

i don’t think we’re a match

jimin: because i drink rum??

y/n: ur just different to what i thought you was…

jimin: because i drink rum?

are you fr…

y/n: we are just two very different people jiminie

i’m sorry

jimin: just to clarify it’s literally just because i drink rum

not that i’m ugly

or anything

y/n: i mean……

jimin: YOU MEAN????

y/n: i think it’s best i go

jimin: you stay right here

y/n: i’m not into like that pls back off

jimin: i’m not ugly

you wanted me 5 minutes go

y/n: feelings change

jimin: in 5 minutes?

y/n: yeah :/

i’m sure you’ll find someone for you!!!

HOSEOK -

y/n: hi

hobi: how tf do you know

y/n: know what??

hobi: that i’m high

y/n: ur high rn?

it’s 8 am

hobi: what

y/n: what

hobi: are you in my walls rn

y/n: could be in ur bed rn

hobi: I HOPE FUCKING NOT OMG

y/n: that’s mean :/

hobi: you know i love you

y/n: oh really 😉?

hobi: from a distance

y/n: um

hobi: so

y/n: come home the kids miss you babe

hobi: WHAT???????????

y/n: ur scaring the girls stop shouting

hobi: i must of been real fucking high to have kids with you lol

y/n: um excuse me i’m right here yk?

hobi: I HAVE NO KIDS

DEFINITELY NOT WITH YOU ANWAYS

y/n: wtf is that supposed to mean

hobi: UR GROSS

YOU MAKE ME WANT TO THROW UP

🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

y/n: ur really upsetting me rn

hobi: i’m sorry

y/n: it’s okay… ig

hobi: 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

y/n: STOP

hobi: stop shouting at me slut

y/n: slut??

hobi: wtf you just call me

y/n: ur not in ur right mind rn baby pls sober up and come home

hobi: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

UR SO NASTY

I HATW YOU

STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT

i’m not into you

y/n: really i couldn’t tell

hobi: u must be dumb as fuck

y/n: this is not the sunshine hoseok i know and i love

hobi: i hate you

the thought of you makes me gag

y/n: ur really fucking mean

i’m into it tho

hobi: i’ll never be into you

y/n: pls be my boyfriend

hobi: to be honest i would rather be broke and have no legs

y/n: that’s hot

hobi: LEAVE ME ALONE

NAMJOON -

namjoon: make one more tweet about us being together

and i stg

y/n: thought you were an atheist?

namjoon: stop

y/n: baby

namjoon: we are NOT dating pls

y/n: please what my amazing boyfriend??

namjoon: i can sue you yk?

y/n: ur gonna sue me >.<

little old me joon 🥺??

namjoon: yes

ur stressing me out

y/n: but ur soooo in love with me right

namjoon: no

y/n: hey be honest

namjoon: i am

y/n: i’m gonna cry

namjoon: no ur not

y/n: okay i’m not

but internally i will

namjoon: that’s fine by me

y/n: ur sick

namjoon: sick and single

wouldn’t want it any other way

y/n: STOP LYING

i could make you a father rn

namjoon: decided parenthood isn’t for me actually

y/n: and when did you decide that

namjoon: just now

y/n: ur making this difficult

namjoon: i am??

that sucks ig you’ll just have to give up

y/n: i am no quitter

you will be mine

namjoon: should i call the police?

y/n: hot

namjoon: i’m going to stop speaking to you now

y/n: can you not feel our connection joon

namjoon: i can feel my hands reaching for the block button

y/n: boo

SEOKJIN -

jin: WHY DID YOU TELL BANG PD WE ARE DATING????

y/n: wanted to see if he would fire you or not lol

jin: WTF IS UR ISSUE

WHAT IF HE DID FIRE ME????

y/n: we could of been like hyuna and dawn

jin: WE ARE NOT TOGETHER

y/n: we could be lol *smirks and winks*

jin: IM GONNA GET YOU FOR DEFORMATION OF CHARACTER FUCK YOU

y/n: i think we soulmates ong

jin: WE ARE ABOUT TO BE FUCKING CELLMATES WHEN I FIND YOU

y/n: you want me so bad omg 🤭

that a promise or a threat babe *winks again*

jin: STOP WINKING AT ME

y/n: never *winks for the third time*

say you want me

jin: ARE YOU OK????

WHY WOULD I EVER SAY THAT

y/n: sometimes YOU are ur biggest enemy jin

stop getting in the way of ur own happiness

jin: I WAS HAPPY UNTIL I MET YOU

y/n: you know who was happy

bang pd when i told him our news 💗

jin: OUR NEWS?????

y/n: 20.05.24 👶🏽🤫

jin: SAY UR LYING

TELL ME UR FUCKING LYING

YOU DID NOT

TELL ME UR LYING RN

TELL ME

y/n: i’m lying

jin: NO UR NOT YOU DID

OFC YOU DID

y/n: did i?

jin: DID YOU??? TELL ME

ARE YOU LYING TELL ME THE TRUTH

DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT TELL HIM YOU WERE PREGNANT WITH MY BABY

y/n: you’ll have to ask him babe

jin: ILL KILL YOU

I WILL

I MEAN IT

y/n: do you love me yes or no

jin: STOP SPEAKING RN STOP STOP STOP

y/n: i hope the baby doesn’t have ur anger issues geez

jin: THERE IS NO BABY THERE IS NO LOVE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE

y/n: someone’s on his period omg

JUNGKOOK -

y/n: you want me

jk: ?????????????????????

y/n: you want me

jk: yeah

y/n: jungkook

jk: i’m sorry

i don’t like playing hard to get

it just isn’t me

i’m easy

y/n: wow ur just a common whore

jk: yeah :/

y/n: slut

jk: i’ll cum

y/n: ??????

jk: sorry

i’ll be good

y/n: stop

jk: do you want me?

y/n: JUNGKOOK

jk: sorry

i’m sorry

ok i’ll do it right this time i swear

y/n: hi lol

jk: FUCK OFF I HATE YOU I DO NOT WANT YOU GO AWAY BITCH WHORE LEAVE WOOF WOOF ARF WOOFFFFFF

y/n: did you just bark at me???

jk: am i a good boy?

IM SORRY OH MY GOD I WANT YOU SO BAD I CANT PRETEND I DONT PLS STOP MAKING ME DO THIS OH MY GOD

y/n: this isn’t working out

jk: right

let’s just date

y/n: i bet tae would play hard to get for me

jk: NO HE WOULDN’T

y/n: i can see it now

i’m getting all excited >.<

jk: NONONONONONO

y/n: bet he would block me

so i would have to email him

jk: STOP

y/n: my man 💗

jk: why do you want a man that doesn’t want you

y/n: i like a challenge

which you are clearly NOT

jk: that’s fucked up

y/n: are you kink shaming me rn??

but when you barked at me it was ok

men these days…

jk: this is a kink?

y/n: no wtf i’m not a perv??

jk: what

y/n: do you want me?

jk: y/n

y/n: jungkook

jk: no….

y/n: hehhehehehee

jk: this has to be some type of mental illness

y/n: how many kids do you want

jk: none…

y/n: you play sm baby omg 🤭

jk: i’m really upset actually

y/n: need me to hold you?

jk: please

please leave me alone

y/n: wow i’m so in love with you

LAMOSODD SORRY YOU WAITED FOR THIS FLOP OF A PIECE IM SICK AS HELL THIS IS SO UPSETTING I TRIED TO MAKE THIS LIKE A LITTLE DIFFERENT TO THE GF ONE BUT IDK IF THIS IS HITTING THE SAME anways dropping a gc piece along with this to make up for this shit sorry love u

also sorry cuz this feels short as fuck sorry again smh smh

#bts crack #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fic #bts text #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts texts #rm x reader #suga x reader #v x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts

[roses-r-rosie3]

Making The Bed

Tim Drake x M!Reader

[Spill Ur Guts Masterlist/Challenge]

Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Breakup, Comfort

Summary: The Reader is the son of death stroke, and of course being his son meant that the reader had to train really hard, but he was never perfect. And he has also found himself in a relationship with Tim. So he pushes Tim away to train harder and make his father proud of him. That ends up leading to the reader and Tim having a massive argument, and they break up. But they meet again, with Batman confronting death stroke about something. It ends up in a fight with the reader and Tim fighting each other, but the reader overworked himself so hard to the point where he passes out mid-fight and Tim immediately stops to take care of him.

Quote: “I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were the youngest of all of Slade’s kids. Some might think that you were the most spoiled and loved because of this, but it was the opposite. You were not the best at combat, but you weren’t the worst. But your father made you see yourself as a disappointment because you weren’t as good as your other siblings were. He still made you his sidekick though, which confused you. But nonetheless you still tried your best to impress him.

One of the nights of helping your father with whatever he needed help with, Batman and red-robin showed up. You would have lied if you said that you didn’t blush a little underneath your mask. You couldn’t remember what happened that day, but you knew you caught feelings for him.

Tim would’ve been lying too if he said he didn’t catch feelings as soon as he saw you. He didn’t know what to do, so one day, when your father let you out on your own, you bumped into the vigilante and he immediately went after you. After a few minutes of him chasing you, he eventually pinned you to the wall and kissed you, and you two became a thing.

The two of you obviously couldn’t tell either of your dad’s about your relationship. Even with having to keep your relationship a secret, the both of you still remained together, you even revealed your secret identities to each other. And every time you “fought” you always pulled your punches and vice versa. Your father would quickly notice this though.

“What were you thinking y/n! You could’ve easily killed him right then and there! But you decided to let him go! You’re useless! God sometimes I even wonder why I even had you!” Slade shouted.

You had to stand there and nod, with tears swelling in your eyes. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You needed his approval. So from then on, whenever you fought with Tim, you would go all out, and Tim would notice it. So after that happened for about 7 more times, Tim texted you to meet him at a random roof top. You quickly snuck out of your house to meet him.

“Hey baby” Tim smiled as he tried to kiss you.

You didn’t let him though, which reminded Tim what he called you here for.

“Y/n, you’ve been acting different recently, is everything okay?” Tim spoke up.

“Yeah, I’m completely fine, why did you ask?” You said as you nipped at the side of your pants.

“No y/n, I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying, please, just tell me the truth, I won’t be mad” Tim said softly.

“Nothing’s wrong alright, I’m fine” you said again.

“Y/n stop! I know you’re lying because you keep picking at the side of your pants each time you lie! Just tell me the truth!” Tim said, raising his voice.

“Can you stop! I’m fine! If this is seriously all you called me for why even call me here to begin with!” You lashed out.

“Just tell me y/n! You’ve been more aggressive during our ‘fights’! Is it your dad making you do this?” Tim asked.

You wanted to tell Tim so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Can’t you just mind your business?! For the last time, I’m fine!” You shouted.

“Y/n please! If there’s anything wrong just tell me! I’m here for you” Tim said.

You couldn’t take this anymore so you just yelled at Tim with a mix of stress and fury.

“I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!” You screamed as you stormed back to your house.

Tim stood there in shock, still trying to process what you just said while you were waking further from him. Tim began to break down on the rooftop, wondering what caused you to lash out like that. Tim, after sobbing for what felt like hours, eventually went back to Wayne manor, and went straight to his room, ignoring his brothers, Bruce, and even Alfred.

When you got back to your room, you immediately realized what you just did and you started to cry. You lost the one person who loved you for you. You cried into your bed all night, you even considered texting Tim, but you couldn’t do it.

For the next few weeks you were training yourself, almost to death, you even passed out once, but luckily, Rose noticed and helped you up. Tim on the other hand, locked himself in his room, not letting anyone talk to him. And if he did, (which was only when he was when he needed to use the restroom or to go on patrol) he didn’t talk to anyone or give them the cold shoulder.

It had been 6 months since the breakup and you were in the training room when your father walked in.

“Y/n get ready, the bats is gonna meet us at a warehouse for a… meeting..” Slade said before he left the room.

As soon as you heard this, you knew it was your opportunity to impress your father. You just had to pray Tim wouldn’t show up. You practiced harder than usual, which caused you to be out of breath, and almost caused you to pass out again, but you couldn’t disappoint your father.

Meanwhile, Bruce knocked on Tim’s door, telling Tim that he had to have a discussion with Slade, and he needed all the help he could get if things went bad (which was bound to happen). Like you, Tim could only hope that you weren’t there, but the chances of that were very low.

When you and your father got ready, you headed to the warehouse, where Batman was already there, waiting, but he was alone. It rose suspicions from both you and your father, but who were you to complain? Tim on the other hand, he was waiting on the roof of the warehouse, looking at you through the glass ceiling.

“Hey, Tim. You okay? You’ve been acting depressed for the last six months now and you’ve been staring at the window for a while now” Dick said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for Bruce’s signal” Tim reassured.

Soon enough Batman gave them the signal and they broke in through the window. As soon as you saw Tim, your eyes locked onto him, tears threatening to fall. Dick, Jason, and Bruce immediately went after Death stroke while Tim and Damian went after you.

You tried your best to fight them both off at once, you could tell that Tim was holding back, but Damian on the other hand, wasn’t. Soon enough you managed to beat Damian, which was a pretty impressive feat from you, considering how weak you were. Now all you had to do was beat Tim, but that was easier said than done.

You glared at Tim, and Tim glared at your mask, but before either of you could start to fight, you blacked out and collapsed to the ground, causing both Slade and Tim to look at you.

“Y/n!” Tim yelled out, getting everyone else’s attention.

Tim rushed over to check up on you, not caring that his family and your dad was watching. Tim quickly pulled your mask off to reveal your face. He missed looking at your face, he missed kissing it, he missed the feel of your face, he missed everything about you.

“Get away from my son!” Slade shouted as he pushed Tim away,

Although Slade acted like he didn’t care for you, on the inside, he cared about you a lot, that’s why he let you be his sidekick. Meanwhile, everyone was giving Tim a confused look, even Bruce.

“I can explain” Tim said.

“Yeah, that would be perfect right about now” Jason said.

“I’ve always had feelings for him, from the day that I saw him, and one day when I was chasing him down, it just happened” Tim explained.

“How long has this been going on for?” Bruce asked.

“It was going to be a year, and then he broke up with me, this is the first time I’ve seen him in months” Tim replied.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting differently” Dick said as everyone was putting the pieces together.

As everyone was talking, Slade appeared behind Tim.

“So, you’re the one my son was dating, I knew he was dating someone but I could never find out who. Why did he fall for someone like you? How do I know that you won’t break my son’s heart?” Slade said.

Slade sounded calm, something that far beyond normal for him. Tim was confused, but at least Slade wasn’t trying to cut his head off.

“Your son and I loved each other more than anything, he was always my number one priority, I can’t live without him, I love him so much” Tim responded.

“I trust you, but if you hurt my son, physically, or emotionally, I will make sure that you will beg for me to kill you” Slade threatened.

“And if your son hurts our brother, we’ll make sure to send his decapitated head back to you” Damian spoke up.

“Okay then” Slade said before picking up your unconscious body home.

“That’s not what I expected, I thought for sure he was gonna chop your head off” Jason shrugged.

———————————————————————

When you awoke from your unconscious state, you were in your bed, and your father was sitting next to you in your bed. Something felt off though.

“So, you and the boy wonder huh?” Slade asked.

WHAT?! HOW DID HE FIND OUT?!

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” you stuttered.

“I’ve known for a while that you were with someone y/n, I’m your father. The problem was, I never knew with who, until now” he spoke calmly.

“I’m so sorry dad, I didn’t mean t-”

“Don’t be sorry, I can’t control who you do and don’t fall in love with” Slade said.

“So you’re not mad?” You asked.

“No. But I have a question, something about his tone, felt off, tell me why” Slade said.

“I broke up with him, because I wanted to focus on training, to impress you” you confessed.

“Now I know why you fainted. I have one last question” Slade spoke.

“Do you really love him?”

“Yes, I love him more than anything, I want to get back with him, but I doubt he wants anything to do with me anymore” you sighed.

“Go”

“What?” You said confusingly

“Go tell him that you want to get back with him” Slade ordered.

“R-really?” You stuttered.

“It’s obvious that you two love each other a lot, and I am in no position to keep the two of you from each other” Slade said.

With that, you texted Tim to meet you at the same roof top you broke up with him on, and you ran.

When you got there, Tim was already there waiting for you, which caused you to slow down your walking. You both stared at each other for what felt like eternity.

“Tim… I-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Tim ran up to you and kissed you. You were shocked at first, but you closed your eyes and gave in to the kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate. You held him closer to you, you didn’t want to let go, you didn’t want to lose him, not again. When your lips finally departed you were already craving it again.

“I’m so sorry Tim I’m so sorry I lost my temper on you. I- I was just so stressed that I just snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to. I missed you so, so much. I missed you more than anything, please forgive me” you cried.

“I missed you too y/n, please, don’t ever leave me again” Tim sobbed as he hugged you.

“I won’t, I won’t ever leave you again” you sniffled as rested your head onto his.

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #male reader #mxm #gay #rosesrrosie3 #tim drake #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin x male reader #angst

[envysparkler]

Tim closed the window against the chilly breeze, and stripped out of the sweatshirt and thermal leggings, exchanging them for a plain undershirt and sweatpants – sweat was clinging to all his clothes, he’d practically ran through patrol to keep the warmth up, and now he was drowning in the excess heat.

The doorknob turned, and Tim had just enough time to think oh shit before he toed off his shoes and lunged onto his bed, grabbing his phone.

He looked up, feigning casualness as he squinted at the shadowy figure in the doorway.  “Dad?” Tim asked, trying to stop his heart from racing.

“It’s three in the morning,” his dad said, his tone clipped.

Tim looked down at his phone and looked up again, bringing a nervous smile to his lips.  “Yeah, sorry, I woke up.  Was just checking my messages.”

His dad took a step into the room, his face stormy.  “It’s cold in here,” he said flatly.

“I, uh, opened the window for a minute.  I was feeling warm.”  Instinctively, Tim tensed, waiting for the rejoinder about electricity not growing on trees, and do you know how much it costs to heat this house, Timothy?

Yes.  Yes, he did, because he’d been the one paying all the bills when his dad was in a coma.

His dad’s gaze flickered to the window, and then back to him.

“And where were you?” his dad asked, voice dropping into the range that signaled danger danger in Tim’s head.  Jack Drake had never used to get angry so easily, but now his temper was a minefield, and Tim was working with only a half-filled map.

“In my room?” Tim tried, unsure of what the problem was – maybe Jack had called out to him, and he hadn’t responded?  “Did you want something?  I’m sorry, I was listening to some music, I probably didn’t hear you –”

“In.  Your.  Room.”

Tim snapped his mouth shut.

“In your room,” his dad sneered, stepping further into the room, “And when were you in your room, Timothy?  Twelve o’clock, when I came to ask you if you wanted to watch a movie?”  Shit.  “One, when I checked again to find that your bed was cold?”  Shit, fuck, this wasn’t happening – “Two, when I searched every inch of this house?”  Shit.  “Three, when I was five minutes away from calling the cops because my son was missing?”

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Tim stuttered, slowly straightening, “I just – I went for a walk to clear my head –”

“For three hours?” Jack Drake screamed, and Tim flinched back as he approached the bed, scrambling fully upright.  Not a villain, he chanted mentally, suppressing the urge to dodge and lash out when his dad’s hand landed on his shoulder and yanked him up.

This was a civilian.  He had to remember that.  He was Timothy Drake, who was not Robin, and he had to stick to that, even if his heartbeat was thundering in his ears as his father dragged him out the door.

“And if you were going on a walk, why the hell didn’t you use the front door?” his dad snarled, shoving Tim at the stairs – he nearly stumbled down them, catching the banister at the last moment to arrest his fall.

“I’m sorry,” Tim repeated numbly, “I didn’t –”

“Didn’t what?” his dad snapped, “Didn’t expect to get caught?  How many times have you done this?  How many times have you snuck out?”  Tim took a blind step down for every step his dad advanced, his hand clenching on the banister once his feet hit level ground. His father didn’t stop, grabbing his arm – grabbing it hard enough to hurt – and jerking him to the front hall. 

#my snippets #this was going to be an afm where tim runs into jason #with identity reveal #and tim getting hypothermia #maybe tim thinking jason was a ghost #and thinking he was dead

[deadsetobsessions]

“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

#danny phantom #bamf danny phantom #dick grayson #tim drake is a menace #tim drake #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a little shit #Danny Phantom is a little shit #they’re messing with the bats #and getting away with it #inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle #that creepy lil shit #i love them your honor #they’re brothers your honor #Gotham’s F grade tap water #thanks scarecrow #Gotham’s tap water #dc x dp #dp x dc

[dairy-farmer]

Don't know about you? But you know what one of MY favorite multi set ups is? The sandwich. Just? "We are going to MELT YOUR BRAIN" from sensory onslaught and leaving you drooling.

And I'm just sayin >.> bet Damian? Would TOTALLY have a "do I hate you or am I desperately horny for you" complexe towards Tim? Maybe some sort of team up? Verbal jabs leading to physical as they are changing at a safe house. And suddenly they are wrestling like feral little shits.

Nearly naked. Writhing and grappling. Until Damian manages to land himself straddling on top of a suddenly frozen Tim, who lost because he became Hyper Aware of what he was DOING. And of course he is smug in his victory. No, no he doesn't think he SHALL get up.

Beg.

And Tim is trying so, SO hard not to reveal that that he's gotten, well, HARD. But of COURSE the little nightmare notices. This is it. Tim's life is over.

But instead? It's more mocking, challenging, goading. Oh, so you DO have taste. And such.

As Damian rocks his hips. Grinding and teasing. How? What!? Who TAUGHT him these things!? Tim can't think. It's been a WHILE. The friction is amazing. Damian is smug, finally, HE is the one with the undisputed upper hand.

Drake, at HIS mercy. Flushed and panting and a mess. To hell with undressing, he uses a batarang to cut their remaining underwear OFF. Grabs the lubricants from both their belts.

Has he done this before? No. Even EXPLORED that area? Perhaps. Out of medical curiosity, he assures you. But NOW? Now he NEEDS it. Wants to see Timothy fall APART beneath him. Be completely under HIS control.

So he stretchs himself with clumsy, inexperienced fingers. Rocks and rocks his hips, never enough, but always enough to torment and tease. Fascinated by the way Timothy flushes, shakes, claws desperately at the floor like it will grant him SOME form of control. Damian feels... POWERFUL.

And Tim? Is losing his MIND. What is he DOING? With DAMIAN of all people. He should stop. Needs to stop! But... but, ah, it feels? So GOOD? How is it so GOOD? Hot and rough but not hurting, teasing but not too light. Why the FUCK is he GOOD at this? Why is Tim LETTING him do this?

Yeah it's been a while, and his really horny, but this is-!!! Oh!

And... listen. Tim? Never really... Topped, before. Not that this FEELS like he is. Kon always wanted to put it in, and Tim was cool with whatever. Same with his other partners. So he's never... never...

T-Tight.

Hot and tight, fluttering like a slick vice around the tip of his cock. Slowly rocking and sinking DEEPER. Swallowing him alive. Ripping the air from his lungs. He couldn't be silent if he tried. He's gasping for air. Whining. Shaking as he tries desperately to hold still, to not buck into that amazing heat.

Then Damian's MOVING and he can't shut up. No wonder Kon was obsessed. He's babbling. Anything to make it continue. More. More! Please. God it's so TIGHT. Milking him. Wet and hot and greedy. His hips bucking franticly in the little space he's allowed, to meet the controlled rocking of the body above him.

But! Of course, you cant leave Tim and Damian ALONE too long. That always leads to violence, even if the ARE getting better. So Dick has to check on them, you know? Make sure things are civil. Be that needed buffer.

But? Huh. No shouting? No crashing? Just panting. Did they already tire themselves ou-...? And what should he walk in on? Damian. RIDING Timmy. Gasping and rocking as he takes his pleasure, like Tim was his own personal dildo. Timmy clearly LOSING it. Whimpering and neglected as he's used for pleasure but not givin enough.

It... it should NOT as instantly rock hard hot as it is. Damian and Tim, expressive and needy, where they are usually so closed off and withheld. Panting and moaning, limbs shaking, all but BEGGING to be held tight and...

His eyes drift to Tim spread legs. He's overheard enough conversations to know... Tim likes to TAKE it. He must feel so EMPTY. And, really, Damian's going to get NOWHERE awkwardly bouncing like he is. All he's doing is teasing both of them.

They really do... need someone... to show...them.......

He's undressing before the thought even fully develops. Swiping the actual lube from the bedroom and a pillow. Time to be a good big brother. Teach his baby bros how to REALLY do things.

Tim down right near sobs, when clever, LONG, fingers slide into his body. Expertly avoiding where he really, REALLY wants them. Mean. Please! Ah! But no, they stretch and slick. Rubbing him deep but not where he WANTS. It's almost too much.

And then it IS too much. Thick. Strong thighs and familiar hands, pushing his legs open, dragging him back to be IMPALED. A familiar face hooked over Damian's shoulder, smiling down at him. Dick is-? AH!

Tim's brain feels like it's short circuiting. He's gripping Damian's waist. Lifting him and rocking him down in time with his own movements. Tim cant..can't... too much! Dick is pounding his spots! HE'S pounding Damian's. Who keeps getting so tight, twitching and fluttering, like his trying to rip the orgasm right out of him! They're whining and sobbing and all Dick does is coo that they're doing so GOOD.

Then Tim is FILLING that tight hole above him. Watchs limp and fucked dumb as Damian is pulled off him and finished by Dick. All but squeeling at the sudden increase in thickness and his orgasm is pounded out of him. Tim's not sure he has bones anymore.

He definitely doesn't by morning.

Dick has clearly decided he LOVES their "get along" method. And won't hear anything to the contrary. Is already planning to invite Jason over for "family therapy". Tim blames Damian. Damian blames Tim. Both of their asses are probably bruised and they can't move.

At least the Dick cuddles are nice.

-🐼

tim being squished in the middle of a sandwich where he's getting fucked 🥰🥰🥰🥰!!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #damitim #dicktim

[atinylittlepain]

June - Epilogue

Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, angst, but also a whole lot of love to be had

a/n | here we are. this story means a great deal to me, and all I can say is thank you to the people who have held it with so much care. I would love to hear your final thoughts on it, but in the meantime, thank you so much walking through this story with me.

..........................................

And I was strong, strong in the sun

I thought I'd see when day was done

Now I'm weaker than the palest blue

Oh, so weak in this need for you

Place to be - Nick Drake

...........................................

“Warm enough?”

“Not really.” “Come here.” 

“The sun feels good though.” “Yeah, it does.” Everything is starting to thaw. The ground growing damp and dark with the melting snow, mud that sticks and slicks at boots. The beginning of green. 

“There’s a few shutters down on the side of the house.”

“Hmm.”

“Will you help me with them?”

“Of course.” Eyes squinted up in the early sun, sitting on the back porch step, a close shiver between them. Not quite warm enough, but happy to be seeking out the suggestion of spring. He almost doesn’t want to get up. Her cheek settled against his shoulder, empty mugs still lingering warm in their hands.

“Let’s get to it then.”

Maybe it’s silly. Putting pieces of a house back together at the end of the world. But it feels good, a simple, steadying act. Peeling off their jackets somewhere in the midst of nailing shutters back in place and breaking down fallen branches. Noses running with the lingering chill, muscle and bone loosening in the sun. Hands moving easy with the tasks, together.

“Do you think you can get it?”

“If you give me a leg up.” His hands on her hips holding her steady, taking a knee so she can step up onto his thigh. A stretch to snap another shutter back into place, a satisfied sigh as she stumbles down from her perch. How easy, how normal, still holding her hips and smiling.

“Is that the last one?”

“I think so.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it looks better is all.” 

“Yeah, it does.” 

“Inside could use some help.”

“You think so?” “Hmm.” 

Windows open with a yawn, fresh air and the stir of dust. They work through the day wiping down baseboards, scrubbing up the kitchen and bathrooms, sweeping out the dormant remains of time passed. It’s the end of the world and they have shutters on the windows and smooth, shined floors and a clean kitchen. And it’s just warm enough to sit on the porch in a t-shirt and jeans as the sun starts to slip in the sky, pink-bellied clouds turning the light hazy and sweet.

“Feels good.”

“Yeah, it does.” She’s here with him, no question. Her palm steady on his thigh, eyes up over the mountains. But she’s been quiet, intent on the tasks, slipping somewhere else in between blinks.

“Good?”

“Hmm.”

“June.”

“What?” A snap, just a little one. Too much, back off or I will show you more of my snarl.

“Nothing.” A quick fall of her brow that smooths out steeled. Something slipping behind her eyes. 

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back.” You’re not coming with me. 

“Okay.” He feels like a fool, craning his neck to catch the last sight of her slipping down the block. This is normal. Normal is space. Normal is open hands. He can do normal too. He doesn’t have to wait, watch for her, a mechanical man that only winds up for one. He can pump blood without her palm on his chest. He can go to the bar and order a drink and grumble a greeting to his brother’s hand on his shoulder.

“He emerges.”

“Brother.” 

“Where’s June?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing. Just, wherever she is, so are you. At least usually.” 

“Hmm.” She’s never far.

“I was thinking about her the other day.”

“You were?”

“Was around this time last year that we brought her in.” It’s a strange way to say it. Not that she came here. Not that she wanted to be here. Brought in. Scooped up by the scruff, kicking and screaming. His woman and the cage she has learned to live in.

“I didn’t know that.” A long pull from his drink, hiding his grimace behind the sting.

“She still doing better?”

“She is.”

“That’s good, Joel.” 

…

Playing a game of chicken with himself in the bathroom mirror, catching her in fragmented glances. Letting his body settle with hers, warmth that she will only give to him. He keeps trying to piece together the right way to ask it. All of it feeling too harsh, too obvious in his throat until it bubbles out, blatant and blunt.

“I was somewhere up in the mountains. One of the patrols found me, I guess.”

“Did you want to?”

“No.”

“Were you going to?”

“It was the closest I ever got to it, besides when you.” A fragment of a memory that hangs between them in the dark. Quiet breaths and the shift of sheets.

“He wasn’t there to need me to be there.” Impulse, instinct, his arm curling around her to coax her into him. She lets him.

“I wasn’t sad, not anymore. Not even angry. Just ready.” 

“I understand.” Her palm on his chest and the light pulse of her fingertips. Beat like this, pump like this. Like this, like this, like this. 

“I know you do.”

“It scares me, June.” “What scares you?”

“You know what.”

“It scares me too, Joel.” 

“But it’s okay.”

“Yeah, it is.” 

Her fingers running along the arc of it, muscle memory he leans into.

“Yours is a lot older than mine.”

“It is.”

“Can I ask when?”

“When everything else did.”

“She was gone.”

“Yes, she was gone.” Her palm on his chest. I know where you carry this because I do too.

“It never gets easier.”

“No, it doesn’t.” 

…

He isn’t a vain man. But still, even he can appreciate how arresting it is. Skin knitted back together in a silvery gnarl, an obvious divet in his shoulder facing the mirror head on. Grotesque and gruesome.

“Stop looking at it.”

“I’m not looking at it.”

“Hmm.” It doesn’t hurt anymore when she brushes her fingers over it, something else settling beneath his skin as she presses her lips against that ugly tangle.

“Stop looking at it.”

“Fine.”

“And sit down.”

“A bit pushy.” “Do you want me to or not?” Crooked and crinkled, her bite tempered by her grin. The razor is back in the medicine cabinet, a careful dance to return everything to its right place before she noticed. He knows he will have to do it again. He is ready to have to do it again.

Her hands so steady like this, the focused pull of her brow as she tilts his chin this way and that by the hook of her knuckles.

“You were always good at this.”

“Hmm.” His hands on her hips, eyes following the steady weight of her gaze as she works.

“I would do it for him. When he got older. When we’d find a chance to.” 

“He was lucky to have you, June.” Stuttered stop, a catch in her chest and he regrets the words instantly. Though she tucks it away, hands continuing their sweeping work, so gentle he could sigh if she didn’t need him still, still, still.

It isn’t until the razor is in the sink and she’s wiping off her hands that her shoulders start to shake. A careful curl of his fingers at her hip, hooking in the loop of her jeans to tug her close, close, close as she unravels.

“I know, June.” I do too. 

A tentative furling, coaxing the back of one knee up, then the other, settling her in his lap, his palms wide across her back, holding every sob for her. 

Her grief, a growling, aching, empty thing. Reminders that come in startling pangs.

His grief, a sighing, beating, tired thing. He holds it out for her to see. I am so very like you.

Faces tucked into necks like secrets. Two bodies curled around each other in a precarious perch on the closed toilet seat. And the quiet shake of a loss understood and shared. I will hold yours and you will hold mine and maybe it will be okay.

…

The gardens are open again. Things are growing again. And he no longer listens for the groan of the gate. Waiting on the porch in the warmth of the falling sun for her to appear around the corner of the street. She comes home to him with a basket in her hand. Bursting red beneath green skirts, nestled down between a blush of bell peppers. 

“You hungry?” She asks it with a squint and a smile, one foot on the porch step.

“I am.” 

Hip to hip, the easy thump of chopping and the pan sizzling good and full. And when dinner is done and the sun’s belly is only just brushing the mountains he slices the strawberries into slivers, how Sarah liked them. And a slip of honey where he would have sprinkled sugar, how Sarah liked them.

They sit on the steps of the back porch, shoulders brushing, passing the bowl back and forth, fingers staining sticky and bright with it. Lips smacking up the sweetness, every last lick, every last sigh. And when there’s nothing left they lap up what remains on the pads of each other’s fingers, throats thrumming in this shared pleasure.

“Can I see yours?” Almost a year shown in the silver of her skin. He presses his mouth to it, open and insistent. And the slip of her fingers in his hair pulls him away so she can see his too. Lips to temple, holding him there before a languid drag down to his mouth. Sweet, sweet, sweet. 

“I do. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know. I do too, Joel.”

“So much.”

“So much.”

…

Socked feet hooked around his ankles. He doesn’t think he could sleep without it now. Turned toward each other, breathing each other close. There are crickets singing outside in the heavy blue night and two bodies seek each other out in the close quiet of their bedroom.

“Ellie and Dina are coming on Friday.” “Okay.”

“Ellie said she’s cooking something.” “Great.”

“Joel.”

“What? I said it’s great.”

“Hmm.” The curl of her smile, slanted in wavering strips of light. He curves his own around hers. Easy, easy, easy.

“Good day?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t want to, but he needs to.

“You’ll tell me when it isn’t, right?” He knows the words to ask now. 

“I will.” 

“Warm enough?”

“I am.”

“Goodnight, June.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

.................................

taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @suzmagine @casa-boiardi @hollywoodcaligirl @kelp-dreaming @beskarandblasters @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @darkroastjoel @sarahhxx03 @ambassadortotrilliusprime @northernbluess @hier--soir

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller au #june

[httpcarlossainzcom]

Idealizations Concerning Real Life Relations - cs55

here is part 2 to this mini series

warnings: i have very bad grammar (sorry not sorry….) also this is an 18+ fic minors do not interact!

summary: Carlos loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

song inspiration: summers over interlude - drake and majid jordan, each time you fall in love - cigarettes after sex, from the dining table - harry styles

word count: 26k (sorry babes)

this is split up into multiple parts so dont worry :)

There’s something about Carlos that makes people drawn to him. He’s charming, enrapturing,  in every sense of the word. Makes people feel special. His laugh is infectious, loud and often more entertaining than the original joke when he does that thing where he claps his hands, or falls to his knees if it’s funny enough. Being around someone like that is refreshing. He’s captivating and easy to be around, easy to love. He’s such a bright light no matter where he goes, a beacon to those in his vicinity.

 And he’s so, so kind. To everyone that speaks to him. Even to those that don’t speak and just look, he offers a kind smile. When someone has his attention, they have it all, his big doe-eyes holding eye contact, nodding to let them know he’s listening and being attentive. He’s a good person. A little hard to understand, hard to get close to. So people say, so you’ve learned. But he’s good. Not much is known about stars, anyway. 

You’re watching him right now, always watching. You’re on another stained sofa in a different house than the one you usually went to with your knees pulled to your chest, a cup of beer resting on your knee. He’s chatting with someone, looks like the guy is showing him his tattoos. Carlos smiles, looks enthused, points to one that he must like based on his reaction. Then he’s holding up his own forearm, pointing to a small piece of ink, and then of course, he’s pointing at you.

Just before coming here, you and him had been at his tattoo shop. He drew the most beautiful, intricate little shooting star into your ribs. A little fireball attached to a long trail of stardust, smaller little twinkles falling off of it. It was simple clean line work, lines thin and dark. And then you drew two of the most basic five pointed stars on him, in a small blank space of his already existing sleeve. 

You warned him, told him you couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler, let alone a heavy, vibrating tattoo gun. But he assured you he wanted it, that he needed to get that spot filled anyway. 

Though both stars are small, one is bigger than the other. 

‘This one is you,’ you had said, pointing to the larger star, ‘and this one is me,’ you continued, moving to point to the smaller one. 

‘Is it?’ Carlos had asked, a teasing smile gracing his mouth as he leaned into you. 

‘Yeah,’ you had breathed against his lips. 

Your soft kisses turned to soft touches, touches that transformed into soft moans. Right there in the parlor.

He’s talking louder now, getting excited. “Look how good her lines are! I didn’t even have to help her that much…” he goes on and on and you smile into your cup. 

It was actually a really shitty tattoo. Lopsided, with the points of the stars all different lengths. But hearing him praise you, express how much he actually likes it? It makes your heart burn, glowing bright pink in your chest. You get up and sonder over to him.

He smiles as he sees you, opens his arm up for you to tuck yourself into his side. His arm going over your shoulder, and yours going around his waist. You rest your empty hand on his tummy, can feel how it tenses as he laughs. 

“Ah, my little artist herself!” he says.

“That’s a stretch,” you deny, looking towards the guy across from you, “Alex right?”

He nods. “Yeah the one who has spent the last 5 years in school studying medicine and plants,” his voice holds a twinge of regret, a longing for life that isn’t run by tests and grading scales.

You laugh lightly. Ah, the botany guy. “Graduate program?” you ask.

He nods again.

You tap your fingers on Carlos’s stomach, trying to think of something else to say. “Oh! Do you know Charles? He’s not in the same plant… program or whatever but he’s doing a graduate program too.”

Alex smiles. “I don’t know him aside from the parties he shows up at sometimes, but I’ve heard of him around campus. Where is he by the way? You usually have him and Luiza with you when you show up here right?”

Your brow furrows as you take another sip of your drink, readjusting yourself so your back is against Carlos’s chest. He rests his hands on your hips, and cheekily pushes against your ass. You ignore him. “I actually don’t know? We haven’t hung out in a while…” you hum contemplatively while you play with your bottom lip. You look up at Carlos. “Do you know? Lando’s not here either.”

He shrugs, expression bored. “Lando said he has something to do tonight, maybe he’s finally eating Luiza’s pussy. And you know Charles hates these parties almost as much as you.”

You pout still, but Alex swiftly changes the subject.

“Anywho, you’re a tattoo artist now?” he tilts his drink in the direction of Carlos’s arm, his smile playful and knowing. “Must be pretty special to be able to get behind the gun and work on this one. He’s a snob.”

You’re about to deny it once again but Carlos interrupts you with a snort. “Obviously she’s special, we are special friends.”

Alex’s eyebrows raise and you laugh a little. Your eyes sparkle when you look up at the brunette behind you. “Are you drunk?”

He grumbles and wraps his arms around you tighter before mumbling into your neck. “No… not really, but I am horny,” he whispers.

You tut at him, scolding with a whisper, “I literally just jerked you off earlier.”

You’re swiftly ignored as he turns his attention back to Alex, “If you’ll excuse us, we have to put aquaphor on our tattoos.”

You send Alex an apologetic smile, but he just laughs, turning to head in the direction of the kitchen. 

Carlos’s hand is tight when it grips yours, a vice like hold as he drags you through the house. It’s at a frat this time, so the upstairs is lined with bedrooms. People are littered through the hall, and in the open bathroom you can see a girl cutting a line on the porcelain sink. The guy behind her holds her hair for her. A modern romance, like a scene from a movie. There are the stereotypical socks on door knobs, and thankfully the music is way too loud and the bass is boosting so you can’t hear what’s going on behind the doors. You almost run into Carlos’s back when he comes to a stop in front of a locked door void of any sock.

“Carlos,” you hiss, “we can’t just have sex in a random person’s room.”

He’s somehow procured a key and gets the door open. “Yes we can, but this isn’t someone random’s room, it’s ’s. He lets me use it sometimes.”

He doesn’t notice the slip of the tongue, once again, but it leaves an icky taste in your mouth. Thick and unpleasant on your tongue. But you know in due time the taste will change, into one of starlight, heady and intoxicating, and so wholly Carlos. 

“Lando goes to uni? I never see him on campus,” you wonder aloud tentatively taking a step through the threshold. It looks like a typical college boys room. A desk with a computer and school work scattered all over. A floor littered with shoes and clothes, along with a nightstand that has the lamp, the lotion bottle, and the kleenex box that sit on top of it. You laugh to yourself. Weird. 

“Mmm, he’s enrolled and goes just enough to not get kicked out so he can keep getting his student loans and living here,” he replies as he locks the door. 

Immediately he’s backing you into the bed, urging you to lay down. He stays close, lips on yours, hands hastily pushing your shirt up and over your head so your top half is bare under him. He pauses while straddling you, looks at you with hooded eyes, taking in the way your long hair fans out against the grey sheets of Lando’s bed. With eyes raking over your skin, his tongue peeks out to lick at his lips subconsciously as he fondles your tits.

“You’re so sexy, your body is so nice,” He pinches your nipples, making them pebble between his finger tips, “love the way you respond to me,” he purrs.

You make a soft embarrassed sound as you blush and bring your hands to your face to hide.

Like every time you try to hide from him, he pulls your hands away and gives you a sly yet sweet smile. He looks down at you, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Why do you still get so shy with me? Hmm?” With your hands in his, he brings them to his clothed torso, urging you to touch him. 

His mouth parts when you graze his nipples, and he breathes out a tiny, pleased laugh. “I get the same way for you, can’t you feel it?” He trails your hands down even farther, until they are rubbing against the bulge in his jeans. He sighs, head hanging back, letting you pleasure him for just a moment.

You go to undo his belt but he stops you. “Not yet,” he says as he swats your hand away. He kneels down, kisses and sucks at your collarbones, as he grinds softly into your lower belly, quiet little sighs sneaking out between his kisses. 

He’s slowly moving down your body until he gets to the new tattoo, fresh and vibrant against your skin, the edges still a little red. He gently runs a finger over it, before kissing next to it, all around it. “I love it, do you love it?” he murmurs, doe-eyes jumping between the ink and your face.

You run a hair through his brunette locks, brushing them out of his face. “Yeah, you did such a good job, thank you.”

He hums and you feel him smile into your ribs before making his way a little lower. You stop him by pulling at the hair you have a grip on.

“Wait, I wanna- you always take care of me…” you look at his cock. “Let me?” you ask.

He sits back up and regards you like he’s debating on letting you have your way with him before he huffs and shuffles off the bed. He stands at the edge and rids himself of his shoes and socks and you watch as you follow his example. 

Next he gets rid of his shirt. You take him in, admiring the lithe, trim cut of his small waist, how his jeans and belt rest on his hip bones, the lightest little fuzz of hair that travels down his lower belly. The very obvious hard on pushing against the zip. You crawl over and sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. He cradles your face and your eyes flutter shut at the touch.

“You wanna take care of me, my baby? Wanna make me feel good?” 

You nod as you take his arm into your hold, glancing at him through your lashes before pressing a sweet kiss next to the tattoo you gave him. He coos.

“C’mere,” he says, applying light pressure with the hand on your face.

Up close you can see the flush that has taken over his skin. He has little droplets of sweat forming at his hairline. It’s always so hot at these parties. Maybe it’s because you’re always with him when you attend. He’s always burning so bright, fiery hot. 

The hand on your face pinches your cheek sweetly, and now, your cheeks are warm too. He laughs a little before he kisses you. “I know just how you can make me feel good, pretty,” he says against your lips, biting quick and sharp.

He threads a hand in your hair at the back of your head and guides your mouth to his neck. “You can kiss me here,” he sighs, extending it so you have more room. “And here,” down to his collarbones.

You kiss and suckle softly at the bone that protrudes, and pull the thin skin between your teeth for just a second. You moan when Carlos hisses and the hold in your hair tightens. Pulling away, you look up at him. He looks down his nose at you, bites his lip before he smirks a little.

“You wanna mark me, don’t you? Was the tattoo not enough?” he answers the unspoken question swimming in your eyes, while simultaneously teasing. He’s acting cocky, but his voice is airy and has a bit more vibrato than normal, giving away how aroused he is. 

You nod eagerly. Of course you want to mark him, of course the tattoo wasn’t enough. Maybe you’re greedy, or maybe you’re just in love. But you don’t think it will ever be enough; a part of you will always yearn for more. He takes his time searching your face before he nods a single, short time. 

Carlos doesn’t usually let you mark him, and if he does, he’s usually particular about where. This fuels you, and you sink your teeth into his faintly sun kissed skin, rolling it between your teeth harshly, sucking until you’re sure that his skin has turned the color of the prettiest violet. 

When you lick at your work to help ease the ache, a moan gets caught in his throat. You rub your thighs together. His noises always get to you, always make your pussy weep inside of your panties. With his chest rising and falling rapidly, he pulls you off and pushes you back onto the bed, a little forcefully, but you don’t mind. He’s always been a little rough with you. Stars are known to be destructive from time to time. 

He crowds your space, taking a spot in between your open legs. Being sat on the bed, his abdomen is eye level, and he pulls you to his tummy when he twines both his hands in your hair again. You lick the center line off his abs before you kiss, wet and open mouthed.

“Yeah, kiss me there,” he moans. 

You peek up quickly, and see that his head is tilted back again, blissfully letting your mouth work over his skin. His hands in your hair massage at your scalp encouragingly. Gentle and subconscious with his movements. His abs tense and jump when you nibble at one of the bumps of muscle, and he pushes into you, eager, maybe a little desperate. Although he would never admit that. 

He holds you there, guiding you where he wants you till he’s pleased and backs away from the bed enough for you to have space on the floor when you drop to your knees.

Your pussy pulses, gets a fluttery heart beat of its own, as you watch Carlos undo his belt. Anticipation makes you sink a hand between your thighs, makes you press and put a little pressure on your cunt to give you just a bit of relief. 

His hands are big and strong, and the glint of the belt buckle matches the glint of the rings that decorate his fingers. The glint of the zipper as he pulls it down. He rubs himself over his boxers, shimmying his jeans down just little as he does it.

“Do you wanna kiss me here too?” He’s smiling a tiny smile, talking quietly as his fingertips play with the tip of his cock. He sounds a little breathless too. 

“Please,” you all but whimper, mouth watering.

He hums, while he drags his briefs down his length until it springs out and bounces back to his tummy. He sighs when he starts to stroke himself with one hand, the other settling on your face, petting a little before he taps an open palm on it.

You try to hold in the moan, but when his hand connects with your skin again, just a little harder than before, you can’t. It makes Carlos’s hand on his cock speed up. His mouth parts in awe. Gripping your jaw, he pushes it side to side, and you just let him. You let him play with you like a little doll. Another teasing smack lands on your face.

He sighs, lust filled and dreamy. “God, you’d let me do whatever I want to you, wouldn’t you?” His thumb is running over the slightly reddened skin of your cheek. You nod in his hold. 

You would. It’s scary to think about, the extent you feel like you’d go to, to have him, what you’d let him do, let him get away with.

He brings his cock to your lips, but pulls it back when you try to suckle it. You pout, and then he taps the tip of it against your lips, groaning when he says, “Yeah, I know you would, you’re so good to me, so perfect,” he taps the length of his cock on your cheek a few times, he marvels at the little string of precum that connects his tip to the apple of your cheek. 

His cock feels thick and hot and a pleasant kind of heavy on your cheek, much like how it feels on your tongue. When he finally lets you taste him, you start by curling your tongue around the crown, licking up some of the precum that has dribbled from his slit. You love it when he leaks for you. It shows you what you do to him, how bad he wants you. He confirms it when he sighs small affirmations.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me.”

 You look at him, smiling a little at the praise, tongue teasing his slit, and his face makes your pussy throb. His mouth is parted and his eyes are hooded, like he wants to close them, bask in the pleasure, but keeps them open because the desire to watch you with his cock in your mouth outweighs it. He pushes his hips forward.

“Suck it, baby,” he whispers, soft and salacious as he guides the tip past your lips, little by little until it touches the back of your throat.

You’re confident about a few things, but your head game is close, if not at the top of your list. Little to no gag reflex to hold you back, mouth wet and sloppy as you drool all over his length. Tongue skilled as it moves up and down the sensitive vein running on the underside, while your throat contracts around his tip. 

His hips stutter like he’s gonna pull out before he pushes in as far as he can, hands forming a makeshift ponytail with your hair as he holds you down, buries your nose in the coarse patch of groomed hair at the base of his cock. He moans, whines, high pitched and loud. He pulls out of your throat with a gasp.

“Fuck, your mouth,” he drools, praises. 

He gives you a second to catch your breath, admires the way your eyes are glassy with tears, mascara smudging the slightest bit, surely to be running by the time he’s done with you. You love it when he fucks you hard enough to make you cry, hard enough to make your makeup run. It shows how well he did it, how badly he made you fall apart. He’s got a few pictures on his phone of you looking ruined and fucked out. He says you look so pretty like that, with teary eyes, a messy face, and hair knotted from being fucked into the mattress. 

Then he’s fucking your mouth. Hand coming down to your neck so he can feel the way his cock fills it up every time his hips snap forward. His body curls over yours some as he bends a little to reach your neck, and you can feel the heat from his body ignite the air around you as he slides deeper, inch by inch . 

Every time he pulls out you take a quick breath through your nose, before he’s pushing in again, your throat like a spit-slick cocksleeve designed specifically for him. The perfect amount of wet and the tightest type of grip. His breathing is audible and ragged above you, harsh huffs, and occasional moans color the air when you swallow around him. His cock is so hard and hot in your mouth, throbbing and pulsing on your tongue. 

Your hands are on his thighs and you can feel them tense, almost tremble as he pulls your head down onto him over and over again. He’s less considerate now, stingy with the breaths he allows you to take while he chases that high.  He’s groaning loud and unabashed, and you’re choking, bubbles of spit forming at the corners of your mouth and around the base of his cock. He holds you down one more time, shaking your head by the ponytail so that the tip of his cock rubs against the back of your throat then he’s hastily pulling you off.

You rest your forehead on his lower belly, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him too, getting a hold of himself, due to the expanding of his stomach as he takes deep breaths. He still has his hands on you, touching just like always, running his fingers through your hair. Until he’s pulling you up by it.

He’s quick to get his lips on you, and his tongue is quick to slide into your mouth. When he tastes himself on you, he sighs, smiles into the kiss. With hands cupping your face, you smile back, basking in the attention and sweet affection. You reach your hand down and grab his cock and his hips jerk. He pulls away at first before subtly fucking into your hand and moaning. You drink it down like the sweetest champagne, his sounds intoxicating in their own right. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he rests his forehead against yours, “wanted to cum in that mouth so bad… wanna cum in your hand right now,” he pushes a long slow thrust into your palm, his foreskin sliding with his movements. He sounds like it’s so difficult to hold back, to keep from cumming right there in the palm of your hand.  “You’ve got me so hot baby, wanna cum inside you…” He places the softest, pleading kiss to your lips. 

It almost sounds like a question, his voice light and airy, lilting up at the end. Soft and gentle as he brushes his nose against yours, a gesture that is as painful as it is sweet, a touch too tender for what you both are. But it makes you keen in his hold, body pressing to his, as close as you can get. 

Your hands are running over him, and his running over you, just taking up each other’s space, breathing each other’s breaths. His hands slide to your hips and spin you around so you’re facing the bed, a little rough, impatient, as they yank your pants and panties down. They knead at your ass, when you lower to your forearms and arch your back, presenting yourself to him. 

Carlos drops to his knees behind you, spreads your cheeks so he can see your cunt, pretty and pink and glistening. He rubs his two first fingers in between your plush lips, and your legs spread wider. You push back into his touch.

“Just fuck me, please, I can’t wait,” you breathe.

He hums, plays with your pussy a little more before you feel him spit on it. Then he buries his face into you, tongue coming out and licking from your clit, to your core, all the way to your hole between your spread cheeks. He swirls his tongue around it and you peep, the feeling oddly pleasant, but unexpected. Carlos huffs a little laugh  while he pulls away. He sheds his pants, and you follow suit, before settling atop the bed, once more on all fours.

His big hands fall on your ass, jiggling it a little. He groans at the way the fatty part ripples before settling back into place. Gripping his cock with one hand and pulling a cheek to the side with the other, he rubs the tip between your silky lips. The sloppy, wet noises fill the room, loud and clear. The sound of the distant chatter and subdued party music outside the door is distant, barely there, all your focus on Carlos. He hisses as he watches his cock sink inside of you.

“So wet…” he rasps out as he fucks into you with shallow thrusts. He can see your arousal shiny and sticky on his cock, no lube needed.

You nod as your head dips, hanging between your forearms. He bottoms out and you let out a high pitched whine. “Yeah, want you so bad, baby…”

He stays buried to the hilt for a moment, hands running over your ass, your back, squeezing at the smallest part of your waist. His touch feels so good, electric on your skin. But you’ve felt his cock before, many times, and you’re no stranger to how good that feels. It makes you lean forward, makes you drag your cunt up his length, before you push yourself back onto it. 

Carlos gasps, hands squeezing hard at the motion. “Fuck… keep doing that.”

You whimper as your work your pussy over him, throwing your hips back, fast and consistent. Getting high off the sounds Carlos is making behind you. The soft curses, the loud groans when you start to circle your hips slightly. The way he just lets you make him feel good. 

You collapse onto the bed, arms giving out due to the pleasure coursing through your body, and you turn your face to the side, hands gripping the sheets beneath you. His palm settles on the small of your back, halting your movements so that he can snap his hips forward, punching pleased gasps from you. You turn your face into the sheets, trying to quiet yourself. 

He doesn’t like that apparently. If the hand gripping your hair and yanking is enough to go by.

His body is over yours, chest to your back as he fucks into you with short, hard thrusts. “Wanna hear you pretty girl, want everyone to hear you,” he whispers in your ear.

You squirm in his hold, slowly getting overwhelmed by the way his body is making you feel, by the way you slowly climb higher and higher until you feel like you could touch the stars. “Feels… so good…” 

“Yeah, I fuck you the best don’t I?” he purrs, “Better than anyone before me? Better than anyone will after me too, right? Always gonna want this cock, aren’t you?”

You whine because you know it’s true. You know no matter what you do or what happens between you and Carlos, he’s always going to live in your head, always going to have a place in your heart, your body is always going to remember him and long for him. Not even just in a sexual sense either. You think he knows this all too well.

He pulls out of you with a ragged breath before situating himself on his side behind you. He urges you to push yourself against him, back to his front, spooning. He grips the thigh of your top leg, pulls it up to your chest.

“Keep them open,” he instructs.

You do as he says, looking down your body where you see him bring the tip of his cock to your center again. He’s watching you though, braced on his elbow, while his free hand guides himself into you. The way your eyes roll back before squeezing shut with knitted brows makes Carlos sigh, the way your mouth drops open when he pushes in the last few inches makes him moan.

He’s going slow. Long, punctuated plunges into your cunt. He’s got his face buried in the place where your neck meets your shoulders. Breathing out lewd moans, his grip on your hip tightens as he bites and kisses at your throat, breath scalding as he pants into your skin.

“Love your pussy, fuck…” he brings skilled fingers to your clit and starts to massage with tight constant circles. You buckle in his hold, glance down at his hand again, watching as he touches you just the way you like, the way he knows you like. The way he knows will get you shaking in no time.

“Please let me cum,” you beg.

He hasn’t purposefully been edging you, but you’re worked up. Usually he fingers you, goes down on you, before you even get his cock inside of you. But due to the change in routine today and the lack of stimulation, the pressure in your core has been building quick, almost putting you at your breaking point already. 

He’s well aware, voice teasing yet aroused when he coos, “You wanna cum baby? Yeah, you do?” 

You twist in his hold some so that you can look at him, show him the tears in your eyes, hoping that they convey how badly you want to do just that. 

His eyes are shiny too, pleasure so raw and apparent in them. He kisses you, licks into your mouth as he keeps that slow pace to his hips. The one that’s so deep, the one that brushes your sweet spot inside every time he glides against your sensitive walls. 

“Want you to cum too,” he says it with a sigh, like he’s so close, just needs you to finish him off, “you’ve got me so… think I could cum just from being inside you while you cream on my cock, just from feeling that messy little cunt cum around me,” he’s moaning as he speaks, his hips losing rhythm, speeding up some as he gets closer.

You nod, the hand you’re leaning on holding tight at the sheets, the other keeping your legs spread. “Yeah, want you to cum inside me, cum with me…” Your eyes are closed, and your voice is kind of delirious as you feel it all come to a head. Your pussy is already tightening around him.

He hisses. “There you go, that’s it baby… can feel how close you are,” his hips have almost stopped, just the smallest, minute little thrusts still going. He brings the fingers on your clit down to your leaking cunt just for a second getting them nice and wet before circling your bud again, faster, a little harder than before. Focusing on your pleasure, on making you finish. You keen as the leg you’re holding up starts to shake.

“Gonna cum,” you warn, the hand that was gripping the sheets coming up to your tit to play with your nipple.

Carlos curses on a moan, “Yeah, fuck… me too.”

He feels it, the way your body goes tense before you let go. How you tremble against him as your orgasm rushes through you, moans and whimpers falling from your lips. Your pussy clenching around his cock is what sends him over the edge. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming-” he gasps out quickly, before biting down on your shoulder, grunts of pleasure muffled as he fucks into you as deep as he can, repeatedly, with those small thrusts. You feel his cock throb inside of you, cum filling you up. 

You smile, serene and spent when he goes limp behind you. His arm comes around your waist, pulls you closer. He keeps his cock tucked inside. You run your fingertips over his arm and feel the slight scabbing of the stars on his skin.

He shivers at the touch. Sitting up some, he curls over you. Your eyes are still closed, content, chest still rising and falling with your deep breaths. He leans in and kisses you, so sweet. Tastes like rose petals dipped in sugar. 

He’s still on your lips when he mutters, “Now we have to figure out a way to get out of here without getting any cum on Lando’s sheets.”

You giggle, nod, and then kiss him again. You’ll clean up in a little. 

It’s deliberate, the way you choose not to think about the reason why he wants to clean up, get going. How he doesn’t want to stay the night with you. 

~~~

“I want you to get out a pen and a piece of paper and then clear off the rest of your belongings.”

School is back in session, winter break ending far too soon. It’s your last semester, your degree is so close you can almost taste it, with only 3 classes left till you’re walking the stage in your cap and gown. One of the classes is a writing class that you saved till the end of your university run so you had something to look forward to. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon and you’re sitting in the back of your Creative Writing lecture hall. Someone’s eating so it smells disgustingly of peanut butter and the seats are filled with college students who just rolled out of bed at 12pm, everyone slightly disheveled and the crowd lackluster as the professor paces the front of the room. She’s quickly become one your favorites however, the last few weeks in her class proving to be entertaining as well as educational. You paw your sweater sleeve up in your fist and hold it to your nose and lean forward attentively.

“Now, I want you to think about someone you love. It can be a real person, fictional, completely imaginary. Dead or alive. Old or young. Doesn’t matter. You just have to love them.”

Of course starry doe-eyes flash in your mind. A crooked grin that pulls down a little farther on the right side. The centered mole just under his bottom lip that you kiss softly, so often when he’s distracted. The scar on his cheek that you run your fingers over when he’s resting on you. You do love Carlos, you have for a while now.

“Write that person’s name at the top. They are going to be the model of basis and foundation for one of the characters in the short story project that we have due mid-April. So you’ve got approximately 2 months to finish it.” 

A chorus of groans sound around the hall. The boy in front of you rests his head on his arms, looking defeated.

“Hey,” your professor laughs, “this is the last year for most of you and this is the only project you have this semester. And it was in the syllabus. Not sure why you all sound so despondently surprised. You didn’t really think you would get through the whole course without one did you?” she inquires, still pacing the front of the room with a quirked brow.

You honestly don’t mind. It will be a good distraction when you’re left to entertain yourself. Carlos’s actually been more on top of his apprenticeship attendance lately. It’s a good thing of course, but you don’t see him as much as you used to. That’s not to say that you aren’t together an incessant amount, just a bit less than normal. You scribble a tiny ‘Chili ♡’ at the top of your paper.

“Now with your muse in mind, I’m going to ask you a series of questions so that we can get some finite details about your fictional character on paper for you to use and reference as you’re writing,” she pauses, clicks to another slide on the projector. “What is their favorite color?”

After writing the question you pause. Surely it’s red right? That’s basically the only color he wears. Maybe black? You had helped him color his hair black just a few days ago, the stains on your pillow a lightish grey colored reminder every night… Still, you go with your first instinct, scrawling ‘red’ on the lined paper.

“Their birthday?”

You’re quick to answer this one, he’s a Virgo, so his birthday is… A small frown starts to tug at the corners of your lips. What day in September did he say? Did he ever say? Did you guys ever even actually talk about birthdays? ‘Virgo’ gets written next to question 2.

“Are they close to their parents? Closer to the mother or father? Are they estranged? If you know why, please elaborate.”

You know you don’t know this one. Fairly certain Carlos hasn’t even mentioned them in passing.

“What role, or character archetype are they playing in your story?” she clasps her hands in front of her. “Are they the hero? The love interest? The villain?”

You answer that one hastily.

A few more questions are asked, some that you can answer, some that you can’t. They gradually get deeper, more personal as your professor carries on with them.

“Okay. Now I want you to think hard about this character, and about the muse you’ve crafted them after. Could you answer all of the questions I asked?” She moves a weighted gaze around the room. You feel like she’s looking directly at you when she speaks again. “Do you really love the person you chose for the basic character prototype? Again, they could have been real, imaginary or fictional, but do you really love them, or do you love the idea of them? The version of them that you have pieced together in those brains of yours.”

Your heart stops for just a moment, you can almost feel how you pale, the color draining from your cheeks. She continues.

“I only ask because I want you to grow to love the character you are creating. This isn’t Psychology, I’m not here to make you question the love, or emotions you do or don’t feel,” the class laughs at this. The class with the exception of you. “But I am here to make you better writers. And one skill that you can have as a writer, a creative, or fiction writer especially, is building a connection with your characters. You’re going to be working on their, the character you’re outlining, story for the next few months. And when I read your work I want to be able feel the connection you have with them.” 

She waits for it to sink in before continuing. “So I ask again: Do you love the muse you’ve chosen, or do you love the idea of them? Because loving someone and loving the idea of them are two completely different things. To love an idea of someone or something is to love it in a very surface level and/or superficial way. Still with me?” she questions.

You are, but you wish you weren’t. You think you’re going to be sick.

“Good, so as I was saying. It’s superficial. To be blunt, you love them for what they could be not for what they really are. As writers, many of us are guilty of this.”

The thing about being a hopeless romantic is that you think about life in could be’s.

“To truly love someone or something is to know all the little details about them, their virtues and their flaws. The reason why they prefer winter to spring. How old they were when they got their heartbroken for the first time. When they figured out who they are as a person, or if they are still searching. I asked those questions at the beginning of class to get you thinking.” 

Your hands are starting to tremble just a little. Words on your paper coming out sloppy. You do love Carlos.

Your professor takes a deep breath, flips to another slide. “How can you expect to love the character when you don’t even truly love who they are modeled after?”

The room is quiet for a second. Someone raises their hand.

“Isn’t it possible for characters to change as you write them? Like I can’t change my person, but I can change my character, like write them the way I want so that I end up loving them.”

Your professor laughs again, light and airy as if she expected someone to ask. “Ah, yes. Character development is a thing of course. Although this is something that happens naturally throughout the story. But to change your character, like how you described?” she shakes her head and tsks, “Is it really love if you have to change them?”

The sound of your paper crumpling is blaring in the quiet room. You pull out a new sheet, writing your sister’s name at the top. Her favorite color is green, her birthday is July 8th, she’s closer to your dad because you and your mom have always had a bond she couldn’t recreate with her, she’s the hero in the story, not the love interest like Carlos was… The lecture continues, and you don’t even notice when the bell rings, too busy thinking about how you do love Carlos.

~~~

Carlos’s playing the newest version of Final Fantasy on his PS, the one you got him for Valentine’s day just a few days ago. You remembered him passively saying that he hadn’t played since he was little, and how he said he missed racing the chocobo’s. 

His eyes flicker between his tv and you walking around his room. You’ve been to his apartment many times, but still, you always move around and take everything in like it’s your first time there; your fingers running over his manga collection in the corner, tidying up his desk, lighting the linen candle you brought from your place. 

‘A gentle smell’ you had told him with a sweet smile, ‘because you’re sensitive to certain scents.’

He gets distracted, the pleated skirt you’re wearing catching his eye even more than the improved graphics of the game. He doesn’t quite hear you when you speak up.

“Huh?” he asks, dragging his gaze up your body only to be met with a knowing look of your own. He smiles sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, before taking a seat in his computer chair, not too far from his bed where he’s sat. Flipping through one of his tattoo sketchbooks you ask again, “What’s your favorite color?”

Carlos isn’t surprised when you decide to make conversation. Before you started wandering around his room, you were on the bed with him while he played but you were a little fidgety and fussy, like you had something on your mind. He suspected you got up to try and distract yourself from your thoughts.

He hums and tells you that it’s black, maybe red. 

You ask his birthday next. He tells you September 1st. 

Adjusting himself against the headboard of his bed, he opens for you when you make your way to him, crawling across his duvet. You take it upon yourself to settle between his thighs, back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and continues to play, his chin resting atop your head. He smiles to himself when he feels you start to trace the stars on his arm.

“Are you close to your parents?” you question again.

He makes a small pondering noise. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Uh- they worked a lot I guess and-” He pauses. You don’t sound like you’re prying, just soft curiosity lacing your tone, but he still hesitates. “Why are you asking?”

You hum and lean up a little to peck at the line of his jaw. He purrs at the contact, content. “Just wondering,” you state, pressing back into his chest.

It’s quiet for a bit, you annoyingly plucking at the little bit of arm hair he has, making him laugh and playfully scold you, nuzzling into you and nipping at your cheek in retaliation. You giggle and he gets that sharp feeling in his chest, just like he always does.

He thinks that’s the end of your questioning but too soon, you speak up again. “Do you prefer Winter or Spring?”

“Winter, but my favorite season is Fall,” he says glancing down at you quickly before redirecting his attention to his game again. “You’re being weird, are we playing 20 questions or something? No, I’m not a virgin. What color panties are you wearing?” he asks, trying to make a joke.

He chuckles when you lift your skirt to check before flipping it down again. “Pink,” you reply.

You’re about to talk again but he interrupts you, “Wait let me see, I didn’t get a good look.”

He hears you huff and can imagine you rolling your eyes as you do what he asks. You put it down again after a few seconds.

“Just a little longer,” he tries.

“Ugh, can you stop,” you say, a giggle leaking into the words, “I’m trying to talk to you!”

He groans over dramatically like he’s exhausted, but he gives in. He always does with you. 

“How old were you when you lost it? Your virginity?”

The fond feeling in his chest starts to dwindle, and Carlos can feel the first little pricks of irritation poke at him as he answers your question shorter than before. “17 or 18.”

You make a small surprised noise, looking up at him shocked. “Really that old?”

He doesn’t glance back, stays focused on his game, hoping that you get the hint that he doesn’t want to ‘talk’ like this. “Yeah, I was a late bloomer and also an idiot.”

You smile at him before going back to tracing his tattoos. “I doubt you were an idiot. That was just part of your story, a little chapter in your life.”

He tenses at your words but shortly after, a lull falls into the conversation. But as soon as Carlos relaxes, a small frown takes over his face when you ask if the girl had been his girlfriend. And again, you don’t sound overbearing or anything, but he knows you can tell he’s not interested or invested in your questions. The atmosphere has shifted from pleasant and content to stiff and vexatious.

“Yup,” he says, voice taking a stern edge despite his efforts to mask it. 

He feels you tense against his chest, your fingers halting on his arm. “Are you mad at me?” you ask hesitantly.

Immediately he feels bad, and sighs. “No, I’m not,” he says quietly, trying to be gentle. 

But it seems you just don’t get it, because not even a few minutes later you’re asking, “How long were you together?”

And he does his best to not snap at you, but he can’t stop himself when he goes rigid behind you and his words come out harsh and scathing. “Why does it matter and why the fuck are you interrogating me all of a sudden?”

You turn around between his legs and gape at him with a shocked expression. “I’m not interrogating you? I’m literally just making conversation? Trying to get to know you better?” 

“And why’s that?” he says, his tone flippant and annoyed.

You pout and furrow your brows. “Am I not allowed to get to know you?”

His jaw ticks and he casts an annoyed gaze around his room, looking anywhere but at you, as if not acknowledging the confused and hurt arch of your brow will make it go away. “You haven’t tried to in the last what? Five months?”

“Six,” you correct him quietly.

You sound unsure, like you don’t know why he’s lashing out like he is. And to be fair, it’s out of character for him, at least with you. He’s really not this cold towards you very often, almost ever. 

Usually things with you both are great, easy. Fitting together in each other’s lives almost perfectly. So seamlessly they are almost completely intertwined at this point. You meeting him for his breaks at his lessening shifts at the coffee shop, him meeting you after classes when he doesn’t have work, going to each other’s places after he gets off from his apprenticeship. The parties every now and again. The tattoos. 

But he supposes it’s easy to put two blank canvases together when there are no details known about either of them. That’s what he was hoping for at least.

“So am I just not allowed to?” you repeat when he stays silent.

With an irked groan he tosses his controller to the side and rubs his hands over his face, rakes them through his navy hair. “I just don’t get why you are asking in the first place.”

You regard him quietly for a moment, taking in his bored stare. He knows the disinterest in his tone is agonizingly apparent, and he knows it hurts you, just like the detached dismissal that he has ready on the tip of his tongue will. He expects you to keep pushing, to bicker with him just so he doesn’t give you the silent treatment. 

He doesn’t expect you to start crawling off his bed. 

He sighs and reaches out for you, getting a grip on your arm before you can get away completely. “C’mon, what are you doing? Are you mad at me now?”

“I’m not mad, I just don’t see the point in staying here if you aren’t going to talk to me.” You’re trying to sound impassive, but he can hear the hurt in your voice.

“But I am talking to you. I talk to you all the time, what do you mean?” He hates that he almost sounds like he’s whining, but he just doesn’t understand and he’s frustrated that you are prying and making things deeper than they need to be, than they should be.

“Not about things that matter,” you reply curtly.

“But the things you’re asking about literally do not matter, ___,” he states, just as short.

You hang your head back and he can see your lashes fluttering rapidly. He knows you’re trying to not cry. Blinking to rid your eyes of unshed tears. You do that sometimes, cry when you get frustrated. As articulate as you are, sometimes things are hard to get out. You sound defeated and disheartened, but your words also have a hurt edge to them when you say, “They matter to me, anything that has to do with you matters to me.”

He knew you were close to tears, but when you look at him with glossy eyes, he softens almost instantly.

“Baby,” he coos, sighing again as he tugs you back to between his legs, back to his chest like when the conversation first started. He wraps his arms around you and kind of sways a little as he pecks your hair. “I just don’t think it’s important. Like the past is the past, and that’s it, you know?”

He knows you’re pouting, and your voice is short and whiny when you insist, “I just want to know.”

He hangs his head back and knocks it lightly against his headboard, trying to be patient with you. “It wasn’t like a bad relationship or anything like that but I just-”

“Does it still bother you?”

“No, but it’s still something I’d rather not think or talk about,” he’s talking to you slowly, like a child. 

You’re quiet for some time, but Carlos just waits, knows you have more questions.

It’s tentative and rushed when you speak again. “Was she your only girlfriend? If it wasn’t a bad relationship, why did you break up with her?”

 He takes a deep breath, actively trying to not be short with you. “She was the only serious one, and she broke up with me. Nothing really happened.” He shrugs, tone getting softer as he speaks. “Just the stereotypical case of unreciprocated love, or like one person just not feeling it anymore.”

“So you loved her?” It asked so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear you over the chimes of his game still playing in the background, forgotten and now sound tracking the trepid atmosphere around you.

He doesn’t verbally reply, just nods. He knows you’ll feel the movement.

It hurts him when you go still in his hold. Like you didn’t want that to be the answer. You recover quickly, however, inquiring him again. “Did she break your heart?”

He can’t help but laugh a little behind you, the words sounding far too dramatic for him. “Yeah I guess so?” he answers, “But it wasn’t like traumatizing if that’s what you’re thinking. I just cared for her more than she cared about me in the end. That’s how it always is, right?” He pauses, hums like he’s thinking. “Plus she was the first girl I was with, blah blah blah, you know how the story goes.”

You make a confused noise in front of him like you’re trying to understand and wrap your head around what he just said. “Did that really not affect you at all?”

You’re probably wondering why he is the way he is, if his first heartbreak isn’t his anti-commitment origin story. He doesn’t blame you.

Jeongg thinks about his words for a second. He’s not lying. It wasn’t traumatizing. Maybe it did change him, how he views things, people, love. But it wasn’t tragic. He just kind of became this way as he got older. He has no real backstory for why he is the way he is, why he loves to be loved but will never love in return. Not in the way the other person deserves, at least. Even if he wanted to, he never would. Because as selfish as it is, the one thing he craves more than love, than anything, is his freedom. And in his head he can’t have it all. 

And maybe that is tragic in a sense, but he’s never really thought of it as a bad thing. Knows that sometimes in order to have something he wants, he has to give up something else. 

“I mean… I see love differently now. I don’t know if my viewpoint changed because of the break up or just because I got older and realized what’s important to me, but I probably used to think about love closer to the way you do… head in the clouds,” he nudges you playfully, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “too much faith in people. A top tier romantic and the number one idealist.”

He knows it’s hard to picture. But he was more like you than he would care to admit. Maybe that’s why he’s so much more careful with you. Because he knows.

“How do you see love now?”

Sometimes Carlos thinks he’s heartless. But when you ask him questions like that, the kind that you already know the answer to, but ask anyway, hoping that he will tell you something different, tell you what you want to hear… He knows he’s not because his heart aches in his chest. 

He knows he’s not heartless, because he does his best to be soft with you, to make whatever this is between you both, as painless as possible. And that’s why he never lies to you about this kind of stuff, because he knows if he did, it would hurt so much more later. And he doesn’t want that. Carlos is selfish with you, but he never wants to hurt you.

“You know how I see it, ___,” he murmurs softly, like he’s trying to be gentle. Almost like he’s reminding you. “Why are you asking questions that you know are going to-”

Hurt you.

He doesn’t say it, because he doesn’t need to. He knows you know that’s what he means. 

He feels bad when you start to backtrack. “No, no. I’m not. It’s okay…” you rush out as you shift onto your knees and face him again, hands coming up to cup his face. “Thank you for telling me,” You kiss him gently, hands squeezing, thumb rubbing over the scar on his cheek. You’re too soft, too good for someone like him. “I’m sorry for being nosy, I was just curious.”

His hands on your hips squeeze, and he pulls you closer, brushes his nose against yours before he kisses you. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for getting upset just-” he breathes hot and sharp against your lips, “Kiss me.”

Falling into each other after moments like these is easy. It’s been happening more lately, rough talks turning into rough touches. But again, it’s just so simple. It’s easy to stop the fights and the questions with his lips against yours, it’s easy to forget the things he does behind your back when he has you on yours beneath him, and it’s easy to pretend like that’s all there is. Just you and him. Two parts of the same star you might say. 

But even though it’s simple, Carlos still wonders how long easy will be enough. 

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part 3 will not take as long as part 2 did cause i just need to write a little bit more until im done. i hope u guys are loving it so far. if u do dont forget to like a reblog <3

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