#i am v happy about my hair!! like!! stupidly happy!!

[cherriesformatt]

make you mine || matt sturniolo

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: you got insecure on a party so you take Matt home and show him he is yours

warnings: smut, insecure reader, p in v, after care

a/n: idk I do not know if I like it cant remember last time I did write smut also I did not proof read it yet. Kinda based on the request but I changed it up a little. ALSO REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN

🍒

I was having a conversation with some girl I just met. I did not remember her name and it was too loud for me to have a proper conversation anyways.

I nodded at whatever she said to me and told her I need to go to use a restroom which wasn’t necessarily true. I just wanted to find my boyfriend because I lost him in the crowd.

I was scanning the club with my eyes but the light and the music just weren't making it easy for me.

Tara invited us for that party and I was happy to be here but in the same time I just wish I was somewhere else. Like empty beach or my bed. I wasn't feeling myself lately and being surrounded by lots of girls in those little tops and dresses made me feel worst about myself even if I knew comparing myself to others was bad.

I just wish I could wear that and feel great in it. I was always more top and jeans girl over a dress.

I fixed my bag on my shoulder and squeezed myself into the crowd even more.

"Finally" I sighed when I saw the triplets talking to Colby and some other people far from the dance floor.

Of course.

"y/n! Long time no see" Colby brought me to a hug and I smiled a little and patted his back.

"Literally 24h!" I laughed and everyone did too.

"You're okay?" Matt placed his hand on my lower back and he gently stroked my bare skin.

"I'm great" I smiled at him and he did too and went back to a conversation he was having with Tara's cousin that we met on her dinner last night.

She was smiling at him and laughing at whatever he was saying but I couldn't hear. The only thing I was noticing is her hand stroking his arm sometimes and the way he just wasn't doing anything about it.

"If looks could kill, blondie would drop dead on the floor, kid" I heard Chris's voice from my other side and I looked at him.

"I do not know what are you talking about. I'm going to the bathroom" I exhaled rolling my eyes at him and just walked away.

I went into the bathroom and just washed my hands trying to calm myself down. I didn't want to be this jealous girlfriend. But today wasn't working out for me. I trusted Matt with all of my heart.

He looked so good tonight. His hair was perfect, he's eyes were shining from the lights and his god dammit rings. Don't get me started. I clenched my tights just thinking about his hands.

So of course there were other girls wanting what was already mine.

God, I just wanted to take him home and string him down.

I turned around and walked out of the bathroom and as the door were closing I was met with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.

"Matt?" I I frowned looking at him.

"I asked if you're okay and you clearly wasn't... and you just walked away from us" He said.

"Oh I am sorry I didn't know I have to report every move to you" I said crossing my arms.

"Oh please, don't start that shit" He said and leaned on the wall.

"Maybe Tilly won't start anything go back talking to her" I said and started to walk away but he grabbed my arm and pulled my body to his.

"What are you trying to proof here?" He rested his hands on my sides and squeezed them lightly.

"You dropped your hand from my back but still didn't take her hand from your arm when she was stupidly laughing at whatever you said" I told him and he just shook his head at me.

"Y/n do not make a Taylor Swift moment from it, okay? I didn't even notice that because the only thing I could think of was your ass in those jeans, baby" He said and his hands wondered from my sides to my bum and he squeezed it.

"Take me home Matt, now" I told him and pushed on his chest to break free from his touch.

I walked to the exit and just hoped he would follow me.

Everyone is too drunk to think it is rude to leave without saying bye. And Chris and Nick can get an uber home, they are not babies.

I felt his hand on my back as he caught up with me and walked beside me without a word.

The car ride home was quiet. The only sounds were the music and my nervous breathing. He didn't say anything. I am pretty sure he thought I was still mad at him and he just didn't want to make it worse.

On the other hand I was nervous from the scenarios forming in my brain.

Matt underneath me, begging for my touch.

It made me nervous because I was usually the one under his control. But today I needed to show him that I can also be in control. I knew it would make my insecurities feel better.

When he parked the car in the garage of his house he looked at my eyes clearly wanting the answers.

I gently put my hand on his chest and grabbed him by his shirt to pull him closer. I rested my forehead on his and our lips were nearly touching.

"I wanna make you mine..." I said and put my other hand in the back of his neck.

"I am already yours..." He answered and connected our lips.

I broke from the kiss and exited the car.

"In your room, Matthew" I said looking deeply into his eyes.

He slowly licked his lips. To slowly, it made the heat building in my core nearly boil. He unbuckle himself and also exited the car.

He opened the door and let me in first. I took his hand in mine and walked into his room. As soon as he closed the doors behind us I turned around and pull him back into the kiss. My hands travel into his hair and pulled on them gently.

He hissed into my lips and I felt his hands traveled down my back. I pulled away from his lips and started to kiss down his throat. I gently bit his neck. I felt his hands squeezing my ass as I kissed his sweet spot and lightly sucked on it.

"Fuck...." he sighed and made me turned so my back hit the wall.

"No...Matt let me...let me be in control" I said and pushed on his chest lightly.

"Strip and lay on your back" I said firmly and he smiled a little.

"Yes ma'am" He said and I walked into his bathroom slightly relieved that he didn’t turn down my wish.

"I can do it" I whispered to myself while I was taking piece of satin from my rope.

I walked back into the room and seeing him laying on his back, just in his boxer made me bit the inside of my cheek.

I had no idea what I was doing.

I put the piece of material into my back pocket and took my shoes off.

I climbed on the bed and straddle him.

"What's in your pretty head today, baby?" He asked and I just leaned down to kiss him again.

Out tongues found each other as his hands traveled to take my top off but I took them in mine and rested them above his head. Not breaking a kiss I deftly tied his wrist together with the satin rope I had in the back of my jeans.

"Baby..." He breath out.

I only smiled at him shyly and started to kiss his neck again taking my time as I grazed my nails down his bare chest.

I could feel him getting hard so I gently palmed his clothed bulge through his boxers.

He exhaled deeply as I slid down his legs so my face was right in front of his crotch.

I looked at his face when I gently pulled down the only thing that was on the way.

He moaned when the cold air hit his dick as I took him in my hand and stoked him. I gently kissed his tip before I took him into my mouth.

He wanted to garb my hair but he couldn’t with his wrists being tied together so he growled and trusted his hips forward making me choke on his dick a little. I pulled out and looked at him.

“Do that again and I’ll stop” I said wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry… I won’t…” he said breathing heavily.

I took a breath in and wrapped my lips back around him and took what didn’t fit in my mouth in my hand.

I tried my best to make him feel good until I pulled back feeling that he was on the edge. I knew that from the way his dick twitched in my mouth.

“Fuck… why did you stop?” He moaned and tried to touch me but he couldn’t.

“Watch your words…” I told him.

“Because I want you to finish inside me while I ride you” I added as I stood up from the bed.

He looked at me with poor surprise as I stared taking my own clothes off.

“You’re going to be the death of me, women” He closed his eyes.

His chests rapidly going up and down as I climbed back on top of him. I didn’t even need for play for myself. Him being like this made me dripping down my legs.

I took him in my hand and lined myself with him.

I moaned as I lower myself on him. The feeling of him stretching me out made my eyes roll.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now…. You’re so hot” He’s shaky voice made me open my eyes.

My body stayed on top of him so I had a second to adjust. I started to move my hips when I was ready and I made both of us moan.

“Talk to me baby….fuck I wanna touch you so bad”He breathed out.

“You’re mine Matt… Only mine” I sad clenching around him just to make him crazy.

“Don’t do that if you want me to last….” He hissed.

“Of course I’m only yours…..never ever want to be anyone else’s but yours” He said looking at me.

I started moving faster to give us even more pleasure. My legs started to shake slightly and he felt that.

“Take this shit off I can’t take it anymore… I need to help you” He whined.

I leaned down to connect our lips and I untied his hands.

His hands found a way to my waist right away. He started to trusting his hips up holding me still. His name slipped from my mouth and my head dropped to his neck form the pleasure.

I pulled back to sit on him and he also brought himself up and his hand fixed my hair from my face.

“I love you’re you’re the most beautiful and amazing girl on this planet, you know that right?” He’s other hand travel between our bodies and he started rubbing circles on my clit.

“I asked you a question” he said and starting to trust his hips even harder.

“Fuck…Yes” I said.

I felt blissful. I knew I was close but from his movements I knew he was too.

“Matt… I’m going to… holy shit…” I cried out resting my forehead on his.

Our movement slowing down. It was killing me. It was slow but every time he was so deep that I felt him in my whole body.

“I love you” He said and made me look up at him.

“to the moon and back…” I finished and connected our lips as we made love.

“Come with me pretty girl… please” He said into my lips.

I came undone scratching his back. I felt him come inside me and I moan.

He gently pulled out and I didn’t want to be far from him so before he could lay me down I just wrapped myself around him.

“Oh… what’s that for?” He laughed and hugged me back and kissed my shoulder few times.

“I’m sorry for how I was behaving… I was feeling pretty insecure and I let it into my head too much” I whispered.

“Oh honey…” he said and rubbed my back.

“That’s why you wanted to be in control?” He asked.

“Yes… but half way through I was like fuck i don’t even know if I like it so thanks god you got so desperate and wanted me to untie you” I laughed.

“Baby… I know it’s hard sometimes but I need you to know that you’re so beautiful and smart and just my favorite human on this planet” he made me move away a little so he could looked at me.

He kissed my nose and I smiled.

“I love you Matt, thank you” I said.

“You don’t have to thank me… it’s the truth. And u liked you being in control…We could do that again sometimes…Now.. let’s get you clean…” He smiled at me and helped me stand up.

It made me feel good that he said he liked it. Because I was really unsure about what I was doing but seeing him and now hearing that he liked it have me a lot of confidence back.

He cleaned us both, made sure I pee and he removed my make up too. We took a quick shower and brushed our teeth together. As we did we heard Chris and Nick walking into the house.

I smiled because that means I could fall asleep without worrying about them.

“Good night love…” he kissed my head.

We were already in bed in our pj’s on, my head on his chest and one of my legs in between his. I just needed him extra close tonight.

“Good night” I whispered.

“Remember that you can always talk to me about how you feel…” He reassured me once again.

I smiled.

“I know Matty… I know” I said as I was almost out.

Next to him I felt like I could everything and he made me feel beautiful and wanted. He was my escape, my everything. And he was all mine.

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut

[thescarletfang]

Presence

Okay, who do I think I am starting a Cassian Andor series?!

Anyway, this is the first part. Stupidly nervous about this. Cassian is hard to write. Star Wars is hard for me to write. But I like challenging myself as a writer. 

This is “Presence” - part one.

Cassian Andor x RebelMedNurse

This can be read as a reader insert, but fair warning my reader inserts are much more OCs. Minor reader description. TBH I just love writing in 2nd POV, so I will be describing the “reader” a little here and there but overall, keeping it vague! 

Summary: You’re a med nurse on Yavin 4 and you’re terrified of Captain Cassian Andor. His reputation precedes him, obviously. But as you get to know the intimidating rebel leader, you’re surprised at what you find. 

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings: slight reader description, swearing, mentions of death, slow burn, angst. eventual smut? maybe? light smut eventually? idk rn. HAPPY ENDING BC LIFE IS HARD AND ROGUE ONE IS V SAD AND BEAUTIFUL BUT I NEED COMFORT RN. all my work is 18+, minors DNI

The first time Captain Cassian Andor comes to you in the medical center on Yavin 4, you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.

It’s not your preferred way to meet the highly respected and incredibly intimidating rebel captain, but a crew got in late the night before from a mission that resulted in more broken bones and open wounds than you could count. You haven’t slept. You’ve been running from bed to bed, making sure the operatives are stable and healing. You’ve applied more bacta than you can remember in recent memory, and your medisensor is going to need a new power pack any second.

So you try not to be too hard on yourself when you’re told to treat Captain Andor for a deep cut across his chest, and you’re humiliated immediately at your state. He’s Cassian Andor, after all. Famous within the ranks of the Rebel Alliance, his reputation precedes him. You’ve heard through the few gossiping nurses in the messhall that he’s a deadly assassin and spy and his body count is unmatched. You remember feeling sick and pushing your caf away upon hearing that last part. 

You know everyone loves (or fears) Cassian Andor, but as you walk into the med room where he’s sitting on a cot waiting for you, you’re nervous. You’re a nurse in the Alliance, after all - your one job is to keep everyone alive. It seems to be in direct contradiction to everything Andor stands for: death for the cause is unavoidable. It is what it is, seems to be the way of men like Andor.

Which is fine. It should be fine, at least. You’re not a fool. You’re not so naive that you expect some storybook version of what is actually happening - you know death is inevitable, especially for the cause. You know that you are as replaceable as any meddroid - sure, organic medical personnel are fewer and farther between than meddroids in the Alliance, but you are not special. You are not worthy of life anymore than anyone else. You are a cog in the rebel machine. You know what you’ve signed up for.

This knowledge doesn’t make things in war easier to stomach, though. 

Since you are a living, breathing human med nurse, you are forced to go into battle. You are on rotation for missions, and you’ve seen the bloodshed and death close-up. You’ve stitched together dying men and women, dying Twi’leks and Rodians, and everything in between.

Loss is embedded in the vey fabric of your being.

It still hurts, though.

So when you look upon Cassian Andor, you are nervous. 

He, however, looks like he’s in a shit ton of pain. 

Andor hisses and cringes as he adjusts the grip he has on his uniform, clutching the front of it where red blossoms out. Along with his chest wound, he’s pretty banged up: there’s a layer of dirt and grime across the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, his hair is going every which way, he has a beard that looks like it needs trimming, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek.  You make a mental note to run a diagnostic on his entire person after you’ve tended to the cut that appears to continue bleeding.

“Captain Andor,” you say, grateful that your voice is steady. When his eyes flick up to you, you’re ashamed that your own immediately flick down to the datapad in your hand. You look over his chart. You hate that you’re nervous. “While on your mission you experienced a laceration across your chest? And you landed back on base at 0600?”

Andor grunts a noise of assent and you lift your eyes from the datapad. You’re startled to see he’s looking at you. His eyes are very dark. You have to physically refrain from gulping. 

“The medic in the field couldn’t assist with the wound?” Your question hangs for a moment. You see Andor’s jaw tense.

He does his best impression of a shrug - the most he can do in his current condition. 

“There was no time,” he says and you immediately notice the rasp to his voice. It’s a low voice, his accent lilting, and Maker this man is terrifying, honestly. You tell yourself to get it together. You tell yourself it’s because you’re so tired, it’s like you’re running on fumes. You tell yourself these things to keep from facing the truth: you’re afraid of Captain Cassian Andor.

You nod, setting down the datapad on the counter, and turn to put on your medical gloves. You take your sonic scalpel into your hand and face Andor again. He’s really doing his best to not show how much pain he’s in, and for a moment your intimidation of him is replaced by annoyance. 

Men, you think, internally scoffing. At the end of the day, they’re all the same. 

“I’ll need to sonic your uniform off to access the wound without further disturbing it,” you explain, pulling a stool over and sitting down, knee-to-knee with Andor. He nods. “Can you lie down for me?”

He does as he’s told and you’re grateful. You’re not sure what you expected - maybe him putting up a fight? Demoralizing you? Not letting you do your job? You think that’s not very fair of you, all these assumptions about this man. But - again - all you know is that he’s a ruthless killer and spy. These things make him a great rebel warrior. They do not necessarily mean they make him a great man.

When Andor is lying on his back, you begin to sonic open the front of his uniform. He hisses.

“Sorry,” you mutter, your nerves fleeing once you’re actually doing your job. It’s what makes you an exceptional nurse. You can laser-focus on a task, and everything else becomes background noise.

He clears his throat as you work through the front seam. 

“No need to apologize,” he says, his voice a bit strained. “You’re doing your job.” 

Your eyes flick to his face and you see his are closed, his jaw tense. Another moment and you’ve made it to his waist. You place your sonic scalpel on a tray on the counter. 

“I’m going to open your uniform now,” you say. In your experience, it’s always best to narrate everything you’re doing to a patient. “That way I can see how bad the damage is.”

He nods imperceptibly and your hands take the fabric gently, pushing it on either side of his torso as far as possible. Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, you register that Cassian Andor has a very nice chest. Then, you immediately reprimand that tiny whisper because it’s incredibly inappropriate. You feel ashamed you even thought of it.

The laceration itself is thankfully better than you anticipated. The meddroid who had handed you Andor’s chart - being a droid - had delivered in a monotone, so it sounded a lot worse than it actually was. While it is deeper than a graze, it is not going to leave Andor with any permanent damage.

You hold your hands above his chest and meet his eyes. “May I?” 

“You really think I’m going to say no?” Andor grits out and you can’t help yourself - you breathe out a laugh. You are shocked when you see the corner of Andor’s mouth twitch upwards. Is…Captain Andor making a joke?

You raise your eyebrows at the man. “I don’t know you, sir. Maybe you would’ve.” 

Now it’s Andor’s turn to bark out a laugh and it immediately turns into a groan of pain. You grimace. 

“Try not to…do anything,” you mutter as you brace your left hand on the side of his torso, using your right to reach over and grab the irrigation bulb. You point the nozzle of the bulb at the end of the laceration. 

“I’m going to cleanse the wound before stitching it together,” you continue to explain but you think Andor’s in so much pain that there’s no way he’s listening. “This is going to sting.”

Andor grits his teeth as you cleanse the wound and once you’re done, you notice his (very nice) chest is rising and falling rapidly - he’s short on breath from the pain. You scoot your stool closer to him - you’re in his space. 

“Hanging in there, Captain?” You ask it earnestly but he shoots you a raised eyebrow. 

You think he scoffs but that could also be his labored breathing. 

“I’ve had much worse,” he says and you look at him, in his big brown eyes and you think I bet you have, you scary son-of-a-bitch. 

You clear your throat. You continue your work. Your gloved hand presses down against Andor’s bruised torso and you see his skin jump beneath your touch. You work quickly, quietly, and focused. You know that Andor is a Very Important Person in the Alliance, so you do what you need to do, and quickly. 

You’re almost through stitching him when you say, “This looks worse than it is. You’re going to make a full recovery, Captain Andor.”

He grunts, hissing when you pull the last thread through his skin. You reach over to the scissors, cutting the thread off quickly. You bite your lip as you apply bacta spray to the wound, to seal in the sutures. When you flick your eyes back to Andor, you’re surprised he’s looking at you. 

You swallow. “Yes?”

He just keeps looking at you and it’s disarming. It’s like he’s studying you, like he can see into your brain and you are a little mortified. 

“Thank you for sewing me up,” he tells you and you cannot for the life of you tell if he’s teasing you or earnest. 

“It’s my job,” you point out and he nods and begins to sit up. You reach out to help him, your hands taking hold of his left bicep. You find yourself pushing away another incredibly inappropriate thought - that Captain Andor has a nice bicep. What is wrong with you? It’s so insanely unprofessional, you should be fired–

“I think I’m good,” Andor says and you look up at him and realize you’re still holding his arm and okay, now he is definitely teasing you because despite his bruised face you can see the mirth in his eyes. You let go of him as if he burned you with fire. 

“Of course,” you say, clearing your throat. You stand up quickly as Andor uselessly tries to cover himself with his torn uniform. You avoid looking at him as you grab the datapad. “You will be cleared for combat within 48 hours.” 

Andor grunts and you look over. He’s struggling to somehow cover himself with his tattered uniform. You take pity on the man, pulling a standard black tunic from a drawer. 

“I think that part of your uniform is a goner,” you say. He looks at you and you hold up the med-issued tunic reserved for patients. He takes it from your hands. He winces.

“I can help you,” you say. He looks like he’s about to refuse and you refrain from rolling your eyes. “Stand up, will you?”

He stands and you hesitate for just a moment before you remove your gloves. Tossing them on medical table, your bare hands take hold of the shoulders of his ruined uniform and you slide it off his back. You’re standing behind him and you realize you’re very close to him. When his uniform is off, you throw it onto the cot and Andor turns around to face you.

And now not only are you standing close to the man, but you’re facing him as well and he doesn’t have a shirt on. You curse the slight tremor in your hands. He’s just…he’s so much and there are all these stories about him and you try so hard to pretend he’s just another operative. 

He’s looking at you as he raises his arms and oh my god, are you fucking blushing? It feels like you are blushing. You avoid his gaze as you lift up on your toes to bring the black tunic over his arms. But he’s taller than you so you have to reach as for as you can to bring it over his head. When the collar of the shirt is brought down and his messy, bedhead hair is standing on end, you realize you’re standing even closer and your chests are nearly touching. 

“Careful now,” you say softly, helping his arms through each sleeve. He grunts, the sound either due to pain or annoyance at your instruction, but then the blessed shirt is on but he’s still looking at you, those dark eyes just boring into your own and you have to take a step back because you can feel his body heat radiating off of him and onto you.

Is the corner of his mouth lifting? Are you just imagining that? 

“Thank you…” he says, but trails off. He looks at you expectantly. 

You tell him your name. You don’t know why you tell him your name but it tumbles from your lips immediately. And yes, now he seems to definitely be smirking as he says it back to you. You think your name sounds really nice in Andor’s voice. 

And then he leaves, rapping his fist twice on the doorframe as he exits. He doesn’t look back.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding the second you’re alone in the room. You realize you didn’t do the full body scan like you had planned to. You look around for a moment, flustered. You put your hands on your hips.

You think the scariest part about Captain Cassian Andor is how he didn’t seem very scary at all. 

* * * 

A few days later you are in the messhall in the middle of the night because an operative died on your watch and this one hurt.

She was young. Younger than you by at least five years. She was tiny and small and looked more like a child than you’d ever seen on the field. She’d returned from a mission with a blaster shot through her abdomen. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. You held your hands to her wound as the meddroid buzzed around you, preparing for surgery and then a second later she’d taken her last breath. You swear the blood stains are still on your hands, though you’ve scrubbed them raw. 

You stare down into your long-cold caf and you cannot help it. You try so hard to keep the tears at bay but they will up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks without your permission. And since you’re already crying, you put your head into your hands and you just give into the feeling of utter loss. Your shoulders tremble and your nose is running and you let yourself cry, alone, in this empty messhall. 

You are tired. You are homesick. You are afraid.

And with the sound of a footstep, you realize you are not alone. 

You look up sharply and for a moment you can’t see anything because your tears have blurred your vision. You wipe your eyes and then you see Captain Andor standing in the doorway, his shoulders tense, his hands in his pockets, and he’s looking right at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t–I came for some caf, and you were here,” he explains. He sounds a little nervous but through the fog of your exhaustion and sadness, you don’t register his nerves as strange. You sniffle. You’re mortified. 

“I’ll go,” you mutter and you make a move to get up but Andor steps forward and you freeze.

“No, please, it’s fine.” 

You make eye contact with him and you see how tired he is. His eyes are bloodshot, he has a full beard, and his hair is going every which way. You nod and sit back down, taking a steadying breath. For a moment you think he’s going to leave and you have no opinion on the matter - honestly, all of this feels a little like a dream anyway. You’re not quite sure you aren’t sleeping.

But then Andor shuffles past you, toward the caf station, and you hear him go about making himself a cup. You take this time to gather yourself, and you’re thankful your shuddering breaths have stopped but you can’t control your eyes. They leak tears down your cheeks and you decide to just let them. It’s like your body is begging for release and you’re too tired to fight it.

Once again, you expect Captain Andor to leave but he surprises you. You hear the chair opposite you creak across the floor and when you look up, Andor is sitting across from you. He wipes a hand down his face and lets out a shuttering sigh and takes a sip of his caf. 

He catches you staring at him. You don’t drop your gaze. It’s in the middle of the night in the messhall when most of the base is their barracks - the rules feel different. 

Your voice is scratchy when you ask, “Trouble sleeping?” 

Andor’s fingers tap on his cup of caf. “Always.” 

You huff a humorless laugh. You see the corner of his mouth flick up. 

“You?” he asks. 

You nod. You think it’s the late hour and the lack of sleep and the weight of grief on your shoulders because you say, “Sometimes it just…feels like a lot.”

It’s a grossly inadequate statement and it can’t possibly capture everything that you feel but Andor doesn’t even blink. He’s looking at you and a shadow of understanding passes over his face.

“Yeah, it does,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly and it’s anchoring you, tethering you to this room. You can feel the floor beneath your boots. You can feel the stiff chair against your back. The coldness of the room caresses your wet cheeks. You’re still crying, the tears falling, but you feel calm. You feel present. 

A curl has come loose from your ponytail and you tuck it behind your ear. Andor’s eyes follow the movement. You give him the smallest of grins. Captain Cassian Andor gives a tiny one back.

You don’t say anything for the rest of the thirty minutes you sit together, finishing your cafs. When you’ve taken the last tepid sip, you stand up. Andor follows suit, and you both throw your cups away, making your way out of the messhall and into the moonlight.

“Do you need me to walk you to the barracks?” he asks and it’s such a bizarre question that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But he seems earnest, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“No,” you laugh, because you can’t help it. Why in the world would you need him to walk you back to your barracks? You think it’s a habit leftover from his life before - walking a crying woman back to her room. But that doesn’t matter here. Not on Yavin 4. Not in a war. 

He laughs back. If the moonlight was a little brighter, you’d see a blush graze his cheeks, but in the darkness you don’t notice. 

“Right,” he says. You stand there, opposite one another, outside of the messhall and it’s awkward for a moment. This is so insane, you keep thinking. You have never been alone with Andor before you sewed him up earlier in the week and now it’s happened twice.

“Okay, well. Goodnight, Captain Andor.”

“Cassian.”

You furrow your brow. “Huh?”

“Uh, just Cassian is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Captain Andor sounds like someone I don’t know.”

Your eyebrows raise at this little confession and you feel like you’re seeing this man a little clearer. Like the haze around him is lessening, and he’s a little bit more in sharper focus. 

“Cassian,” you repeat, and he’s looking at the ground with a little grin. He says your name back, still looking at the ground, and you’re taken aback by how charming you think that is.

His eyes flick to you once more before he nods, and heads off to his quarters. You watch him for a moment, the moonlight making his silhouette glow a little, and you realize that your tears have stopped.  

That night - for the first night in a very long time - you sleep soundly.

#cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x you #cassian andor fluff #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #cassian andor x reader

[curiousserpent]

I posted 7,614 times in 2022

144 posts created (2%)

7,470 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@girlcaligula

@universe-exhale

@firlachiel

@sous-le-saule

@imsoglitter

I tagged 583 of my posts in 2022

#👀 - 4 posts

#👁 - 3 posts

#for later - 3 posts

#she... - 3 posts

#ja. - 2 posts

#:) - 2 posts

#alfred - 2 posts

#oh... - 2 posts

#*eye* - 2 posts

#im obsessed - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#im too impatient for hair styling bitch when its long i headbang once and its done and now i need to actially spend time looking at my horri

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

"Am I poly????"

Me and my bf (I stopped counting how many centuries old i am much less him) have been in a very happy, harmonious relationship since before the great European revolution of 1848. He is very sweet and I love him very much and there's really nothing to complain about or that I feel like we lack. However, even after all these centuries happy I occasionally still dream of his father and in my dreams he's still always shirtless and I wake up all flustered :( (I have talked about this to my bf, who is mostly amused by it and assures me he's not mad...) I also sometimes still feel like kissing my old lover and now friend who lives with us. Again, my bf doesn't mind because he's the best. But I do wonder if this means that I'm poly?? Please help ;v; the dreams won't stop because his father is stupidly attractive.

10 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

#4

There's so much fruit...everything grows here...🥺

12 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

#3

I'm still not over everybody in the interview with the vampire (2022) trailer having short hair. I get it it's the 1910s bla bla but ??? If I look at the cast of interview with the vampire and don't immediately think of all the drains they must clog is it even interview with the vampire

15 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

#2

18 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This book really just Says things sometimes....

18 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[zxvtrpnljhfdb]

I fucked up BIG

I had my usual rant all prepared for the afternoon when I fatfingered it. I hadn't blocked my ex on my main account so that they could communicate with me about their dog, who's staying in the apartment while they're out on their....... whatever staycation.

The detective was supposed to be by tomorrow, but they were able to come out after I got off work. So they served my ex with the warrant for the computer, but I don't think they were necessarily able to get a warrant for the hard-drive, which my ex took with fOr SoMe MySteRiOuS rEaSOn.

Anyway, just before they came through, my ex had stopped by to get the dog. They forgot their keys??? I've never seen them forget their keys. I just gave them the leash, dog attached, and the dog did the rest.

Finally, about an hour ago, their new plaything brought the dog back. She is seriously sick. I hope it's not contagious.

Anyway, so my dumb ass was all crowing about how amazing my life has become--I have a stable employer, I've had a really stable living condition. I don't think my partner necessarily meant to give me that self-esteem boost, but I deserve it. We have had money to pay rent every single month. And in large part, I owe that to myself. Now, there were a few months where she did carry us herself. She does deserve that little credit. Those few months were awesome. This place was so fucking clean. There were even a few months where we both worked. Not at all sure where the fuck all that money went to.

I was also stupidly, stupidly crowing about how the fertility situation was actually good, I'm just concerned that the sperm was bunk.

Then, like I mentioned, I mentioned the cops coming to literally solve our dispute over the computer. It was mostly coincidence that she was apparently coming back, keys in hand, to supposedly return the dog, and she ran into the cops.

I put all my fucking cards out there in this stupid blog post. I can't fucking believe she got it open or up so fucking quick. All I can fucking hope is she navigated away from it before she could record it. But that's a slim hope.

I have been so fucking sleep deprived this week. I'm really happy between the depression and my hormones, things are going better for me physically, because otherwise these last few weeks, I'm not sure how I would have been able to handle things. In the about hour between the time they called to say they were on their way, and the time they arrived, I actually passed the fuck out and I was so fucking groggy when they got here.

The camera gal took pictures of e v e r y t h i n g. And I am not even remotely proud of how this place looks, it is abso-fuckin-lutely trashed. It is so embarrassing. It's still gonna be a dump when I'm fully out.

I filed a TRO. Between this and the CSAM issue..........I see soooooooooo many hours in court in my future.........

That my ex finally blocked me is of truly cold comfort. It is not that hard to make up new accounts to keep an eye on people. Even if I cut and dyed my hair and posted a whole entire thing about a negative pregnancy test, I've shown that I can apparently lie pretty goddamn well when I feel unsafe. Or, sorry, apparently, according to my ex, I don't feel unsafe. I'm making it up for attention.

False, but, potayto potahto, right? I have plenty of reasons to feel unsafe around my ex. I'm no longer of any value to them with someone more malleable and with more money around. They've pointed a gun at me so many times, but like hahaha like funny don't be so serious take a joke. Her first response when ending it was to clear out the bank account of my money. Money that I earned. Money that was supposed to go to rent and utilities for the person who earned it. Instead, she high-rolled her fucking vacation with it. But oh, I guess she really needed it more than I do.

So yeah, this high likelihood of pregnancy could turn out to just be really good evidence that the engines just need some actually functional sperm and she still wouldn't believe me. I wouldn't be safe.

So I at least need a restraining order.

Anyway, I need sleep. With this level of stress, I probably am going to have to try again later. With all the fucking harassing and lying and bullying, I wouldn't be surprised if it did get fertilized but my uterus was just like, nope! My eyes are struggling to focus so I'm out

[omnirush]

— — R E M N A N T

An RP blog for Rush Sykes of The Last Remnant, but adapted for the FFXIV world!

Brief guidelines:

hewwo!! call me termi (25+, any pronouns)

am a filthy multishipper hehehe

also jk watch this be a multimuse blog for all the tlr characters i can convert to ffxiv

not spoiler free, will try to tag ew spoilers where necessary!

i am v bad at rmbering all ffxiv lore but i will do my best ljaflksjf

i tag 'trigger tw' for any sensitive content!

i have a busy irl and other commitments! bc of this is i am naturally very slow and will take random hiatus’!

main rp partner is @echobled​ so replies to their muses tend to be prioritized!

feel free to turn any prompt u sent into a thread!

pls don’t rush me into replying to things or remind me in any way ;w ; this is a hobby for me and i tend to withdraw and get slower if i feel stressed fjlkdjsg

i do drop threads quite a lot; this is just to keep drafts from getting bloated. the reasons range from not knowing how to respond, not having the muse for it, it was a casual thread, or feeling like our muses’ relationship has progressed past that in other threads! it’s nothing personal at all, and i’m always happy to initiate new stuff!!

^ that being said, i tend to keep drafts if its the only one we have between our muses and/or we have anything planned for it!

NEW FOLLOWERS: unfortunately im reaching the limit on the threads/rp partners i can take T__T i can do small things (like one-liners to paras) and send prompts/meme in etc., though! I also follow bc i like meeting new ppl, sending in hc questions, and learning more about their ocs so if there’s a lack of ic interaction on my end, its bc of this >< i’m very sorry!

Biography:

Age: appears mid-20s Gender: male Orientation: biromantic, demisexual Eye colour: brown Hair colour: black Skin colour: fair Height: 183cm (6′) Notable features: Green markings under his left eye, a deep scar from a stab just left of his chest (shy of his heart), jagged scars on his upper back, a few scars on his left outer thigh. Job: Paladin (abilities similar up to lvl 80) Alignment: neutral good

Brief history:

Amnesiac and lost and far from his homeland, Rush was taken under the wings of Marina and John Sykes, a pair of hyuran researchers based in Sharlayan.

A few years later, Marina had Irina Sykes, a young girl gifted with the power of the Echo, discovered at age 10.

Knowing the bare minimal amount of the Echo, Marina and John decide to join the Students of Baldesion, dedicating their research efforts to help their daughter, but in doing so neglect them both.

The disappearance of the Isle of Val brought Irina and Rush closer together in fear of having lost their parents.

Rush and Irina struggle for a while. Rush takes on odd jobs and eventually takes up the gladiator class and does his best to master it, carrying on to become a free paladin.

Later, they find out more about why the Isle of Val falls. Their parents unfortunately perished during such events.

Irina decides to remain in Old Sharlayan to carry on their parents' research where it left off. She works on becoming knowledgeable about aether and the Echo, and becoming proficient with her blade. She’s given the mark of an Archon shortly into Shadowbringers, She later joins the Scions of the Seventh Dawn just at the beginning of Endwalker.

Rush decides to explore and help those in need. He is often found at major battles, trying to save and help as many people as possible.

Stormblood onwards:

These events are liable to be a bad ending :))) Mostly bc Rush's canon in TLR is tragic and i love angst lkjaklsjf. happy to discuss this stuff further as a plot owowo i wont force this on any rp partner tho if tragedy is not ur jam!

Reeling from the loss of his parents, Rush doesn’t take kindly to Krile, a close family friend, being kidnapped by Garleans. He... basically tries to run in there recklessly and stupidly to try rescue her but ends up getting experimented on with the Resonant. However, his very nature rejects it and as a result he almost dies from it.

Volunteered with the Ala Mhigan Resistance with the Masks. However was later betrayed by 'The Griffin', wherein many of his friends were sacrificed to bring forth Shinryu. Was only saved from this because he was stationed elsewhere like a handful of others. Stayed for a long time afterwards to aiding any civilians caught in the crossfire.

Aided in the Bozjan Resistance and was recruited into Gunnhildr's Blades for his high combat skills as a paladin and leadership aptitude. After Misija's betrayal, Rush sought to save her, having considered her a dear comrade. He ultimately fails but is spared. After, he is too injured and distraught to aid with Misija's capture.

He joins Ilsabard's Contingent to travel to Garlemald. As an experienced soldier, his rank allows him his own squadron, with which he is ordered to help any Garlean refugees and lend aid where possible. He aids in the effort of transporting the group of refugees to use the lunar teleporter by request of Fourchenault. He meets his end by the monsters that attack them, valiantly attempting to save the refugees under his care.

... Or is he ded :eyes:

In line with his TLR canon, he'll probably come back in some way, but if he does then he will come back wrong in some way. That just remains to be seen owowowo

Nothing is completely fixed, though. Happy to change things up for plot-related stuff :D ty for reading this far ajsflsalkfj

OTHER:

Irina Sykes

Age: 24 Gender: female Orientation: bisexual Eye colour: brown Hair colour: brown Skin colour: fair Height: 163cm (5′3) Notable Features: tattoo just under her left ear Job: Samurai (abilities similar up to lvl 80), Sage (lvl 70) — progresses during msq

Smol notes about her:

acquires her Archon tattoo during Shadowbringers

joins the Scions of the Seventh Dawn at the start of Endwalker

often seen around Old Sharlayan’s library as a dedicated scholar carrying on her parents’ work

Kratos (the Ancient Rush is a shard of!)

Gender: cis male Orientation: pansexual Eye colour: pale emerald Hair colour: black/very dark green Skin colour: brown Job: PLD (DRG secondary)

Smol notes about him:

younger brother of Hermes (default; i won’t force this on any hermes rpers tho!)

a serious type; duty before love. rather callous. headstrong and stubborn. workaholic.

worked under Pashtarot in some. well-respected leadership position who knows lkjasklfj

OTHER BLOGS: @fxrtunas, @chacss​​

#;ooc #ew spoilers #death tw #omg i borked my post again #WHATEVER

[mieczyhale]

this dumb bitch got a perm today. it is Fluffy Bastard hours

#as a present for mandy her mom paid for us to go be fancy?? no i don't know why i was included in the present - i have some guesses tho lmao #mandy is my sister in law so her mom is my boyfriend's mom - who i believe swapped parenting tips with reginald hargreeves #if you know you know #BUT #i am v happy about my hair!! like!! stupidly happy!! #my hair is naturally the straightest fucking thing ever. straight and blonde - fun fact~ #so the change is v nice~~ #okay i'm gonna shut up now and return to trying to multitask things and forgetting to do half of them! #maison speaks #tinysquidrachel

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

[candreloup]

I started to read your work and I absolutely love your writing! So I wanted send a request you could maybe do: A timid and shy hero is sent to fight a rather known cruel and flirty villain. But when the villain sees the hero is afraid of them the villain tries to be a bit more softer maybe even going so far as to comfort said hero who terrified of them.

Thank you so much! Also- HOLY MOLY MY OTHER POST BLEW UP AAA- um, thank you guys so, SO much for all the positive feedback and thank you so much to all the people who re-blogged my post! (I woke up and saw that shtuff and went AaaAAAA) Anyways, here's this ask! ('tis a good one :D)

Villain was sick and tired of waiting. If they were going to send someone to confront Villain, they should have just sent them. It made them angrier than they should have been. Maybe it was the fact that they couldn't have a life because of those so-called "heroes", or maybe it was just that Villain was so tired of being so one-dimensional. Of being whispered about, hated and scorned for something that they weren't. The creepy, sadistic villain sitting in their cold stone lair, waiting for the next victim to be sent in.

Villain was still a human. Not some monster to be taken down and killed, not some corrupt evil genius that only lived to harm- they were a human. But everyone seemed to lose sight of that fact.

A knock startled Villain out of their reverie. "What is it," Villain snapped, bracing themselves for the inevitable blustering "hero" bursting through the door, spouting nonsense about how they were going to take Villain down "once and for all". Instead, the door only creaked open a crack, and a timid voice called, "H-hello?"

Villain couldn't help but be surprised. After all, hadn't it been just yesterday that they had received a message telling them that they were "Finally getting what's coming to you" ? Hadn't they seen over and over the brand of person being sent to them, heard the countless rumors and criticisms being spread behind their backs? But this was different. The shy, quiet voice- albeit rather frightened- was new. Sent to take you down. Ha! Hero didn't seem like they could take down a rabbit. Of course, Villain had learned not to judge by the first impression. Who knew what they had hidden under their sleeves; who knew what could happen if they let their guard down. No, for now Villain would simply wait and watch, letting their instinct guide them.

"U-um, I think... I'm supposed t-to be here?" Hero stammered, still peeking through a tiny crack in the door. Villain sighed. Seems I'll have to be the initiator. Hero cracked open the door a touch more, making a small sound of surprise when they saw Villain striding towards them. "Uh, well- um- I d-don't know w-what I'm su-supposed to b-be doing here..." Villain didn't stop. Instead, they made the final steps to the door, forcing it open despite Hero's desperate attempts to keep it closed to reveal a small black-haired head and wide brown eyes, staring up at Villain in fear.

"Come in," Villain growled. Perhaps a tad too aggressive, as Hero shrunk back even further. "Come in," they said again, this time more gently. "I'm not going to hurt you." Hero looked up at Villain's face again, obviously trying to figure out if Villain was telling the truth.

God, they were so transparent it was almost a joke. Villain could almost see the gears turning in their head, see the thought process of "should I trust them?". "Well, don't just stand there," Villain said, getting frustrated with holding the door open. "Come in." When Hero still remained in place, Villain sighed in frustration and pulled Hero into the room. "I told you, I won't hurt you. Here, I'll leave the door open. There. Happy?" Hero's eyes darted nervously around the room, observing and finally landing on the open door. "No. You,"-Villain pointed at Hero- "There." Villain gestured to a couch. "Let's talk."

It was only after a few minutes of Villain talking and too much awkward silence that Hero finally spoke up.

"So... what are you here for? And don't say you don't know. I know you know why you're here. You can't fool me with your feeble attempts at lying."

"Well, I think... they told me to just, uh, come here? And um, well..." Hero glanced nervously at Villain, clearly afraid to finish their sentence. Villain just gestured at Hero to continue. Hero gulped nervously and finished, "They told me to try and kill you." The last words rang out in the empty room, echoing into silence.

"And what do you think?" Villain said softly.

"W-well, I think... maybe you're not such a bad person? And, I don't really know... why? I-I mean, I've heard lots of bad things about you... But, you don't, you know, seem... that bad...?" Hero trailed off, looking down at their feet.

Villain didn't know what to make of Hero. They were so strange, so... different. They came into Villain's lair like a frightened bunny, shaking and stammering and hiding behind doors. They were transparent, naïve and innocent. How the hell did they end up working for the organization? And yet, the change was a welcome one. It felt good, to be finally recognized as something more than just a "villain". To be finally acknowledged as maybe a little more than just a 1d caricature of a person. It was refreshing. And made Villain feel too possessive than they were comfortable with.

"V-villain?"

Villain looked up at Hero again.

"U-um, sorry- you weren't... talking a lot... Did I say something wrong?" Hero looked concerned. Yet another surprise. Villain stared at them for a second before bursting into laughter. Loud, clear laughter that filled the room and lasted for much longer than it should have. "W-wait! Why- Why are you laughing? Villain?"

As Villain's laughter died down and they wiped away tears, still having small bursts of chuckling to themselves, they noticed Hero's clearly confused face. "Um... Why did you laugh? What was so funny?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing." Concern. What a joke. As if a hero coming from the organization could be concerned for the person they were going to kill. That they'd met literally a few minutes ago. The thought made Villain want to laugh again. But for some reason, looking at Hero, the concern felt genuine. They could almost believe that Hero was actually concerned. Almost.

Don't let your guard down, Villain. You never know.

"Villain?" Hero hesitantly raised their hand as if to try and touch something. Then put it down again. "Um, Villain?"

Villain was instantly on their guard, preparing for some sort of attack. "Yes?" they asked warily, waiting for Hero to completely change personality or whip out some sort of secret weapon. Instead, what Hero said caught Villain completely off-guard.

"Um, could I... touch your hair?"

"What?"

Hero went into overdrive explanation mode. "Uh, I know it's a really weird request but, I mean, I just thought- your hair looked- I mean, I think your hair looks really soft, and I just kind of- I mean, maybe I shouldn't have said that but-" Villain cut Hero off.

"Sure." Hero froze for a second. Villain couldn't help but laugh to themselves at Hero's dumbstruck look. I don't even know honestly if they can kill me, even if they tried. "You can touch my hair."

Hero reached out a hand hesitantly. "A-are you sure? I know it's a really weird question..." Villain grabbed Hero's wrist and pulled it towards their head.

"I told you, go ahead."

Hero reached out, softly patting Villain on the head. Villain had a thought as Hero started to touch their head with both hands. What the fuck am I doing? Am I a cat? But that thought left their mind as Hero started to move closer, playing with Villain's hair.

"It's so soft," Hero said, mesmerized. "Um... can I braid your hair?"

A few moments later Villain was lying in Hero's lap as they braided Villain's hair. How did I get here? Seriously... Oh well. Hero's gentle touch and their warmth made Villain drowsy, all suspicious thoughts driven out of their head. If they really wanted to try to kill me, they would have done it a long time ago. Anyways, it felt good, letting their guard down in front of someone. Even if they died here, it would be worth it. This little bit of peace felt heavenly, the soft sound of Hero humming sending Villain slowly to sleep. It was worth it.

The room was cold, full of the quiet sounds of technology working. In the screen in front of them they could see Villain's face, eyes slowly closing. "Who knew the mighty Villain could be taken down so easily by such a simple trap?" A voice echoed through the room, coming from the figure sitting in a chair in front of the large control panel taking up much of the space. Who knew indeed. All along, the only thing they had to do to completely take Villain off their guard was that fool of a Hero, so stupidly naïve and innocent. It was so easy it was almost laughable. Villain, lying in someone's lap and letting them braid their hair? Ha! And yet, a little bit of stammering later and they had exactly what they wanted. God, they were both so predictable. So easy to manipulate. So stupid.

#villain #hero #villain x hero #hero x villain #hero and villain #villain and hero #fluff #villain hero fluff #soft bois #organization #manipulation oooOoo #nO VILLAIN NO #likeable villain

[mego42]

OK but!!! Come over here and randomly sink the 8 ball???? Can we talk about this???? Does rio not understand how the game of pool works??? Was he just hanging out playing against himself prior to this??? Is it a metaphor??? Is 8 the only number he knows???? THOUGHTS????

the fact that we open the scene with a center shot of beth, all bambi-eyes and openly???? letting him see???? her vulnerable????????

the fact that she still sees him as a lifeline and turns to him for help in spite of him being demonstrably useless literally every time she’s asked

the fact that he’s open to it and asks what she needs

aaaaaand then shuts her down when she says it’s for dean

but also is still giving her some p solid, if, you know, a touch sociopathic advice

and then the fact that said advice more or less amounts to please let your ~technical husband rot in jail crime wife

and yes, the fact that he is, apparently just hanging out! in his own bar! after hours! alone! playing pool with himself!

which sounds like it should be a euphemism tbh but no! it is entirely literal!

everyone involved in this show is a lunatic including all of us!

i love it!

literally wtf are you doing rio

i would like to point out he is losing to himself which is fucking hysterical

and also extremely apt, tbh

he climbs up the pool cue when he stands. why. to what purpose.

he told her to be smart before he murdered her co-worker and beth’s like, not even phased at all by that reference

i am teLlinG y’alL murder is their foreplay, the hitman thing’s gonna be fine

if anything he’s gonna be hurt she outsourced it

which, valid!!!!!!

why are his fingers so long why why WHY

every time he lines up and takes a shot i make this sort of garbled hairpin in a vacuum cleaner noise

i didn’t ask to be like this

and when he sees that the please let him rot please please please pitch is not helping beth’s stress level he pivots and like, actually tries to be comforting????????

but is also incredibly bad at it

remember when beth was like my husband took my children and rio was like that sucks, here’s an open tab byyyyyyeeeeee

he is not the best shoulder, is what i’m saying

and yet!! she keeps going to him anyway!!!!

he’s like SIVER LINING MAYBE YOU’LL WANT TO FUCK YOUR HUSBAND AGAIN AND BETH JUST STEAMROLLS RIGHT PAST THAT

it like doesn’t even register

fuck that guy? don’t be absurd crime husband

also like

who exactly might want to hit what again hmmmmmmm HMMMMMMMMMMM

i am just saying it feels like there are some layErs here

he is so satisfied when she points out nothing sticks to him i want to slap him i want to slap myself i want to slap everyone

i gOt lucK oN my siDe / mayBe yoU do tOo

smells like foreshadowing in here

also jumping back the way his smile s o f t e n s when he says maybe you do too

the urge to slap remains strong but now with a side of leave mE here tO diE

(bringing back @pynkhues​ tag meanderings bc it lives in my head now, is this rio’s way of saying he can protect her class please discuss)

and now we arrive at sink the eight ball

i know it’s ridiculous i know but i can’t help it they’re standing there with a the pool cue and the pool table and it’s all weird tangled intimacy that’s about to flip over into intense sexual tension and i am not coping well with this at all

i’m not okay

THE WAY HE PULLS THE CUE AWAY

AND THE WAY SHE’S LIKE THIS MOTHERFUCKER I STG

let beth boland unhinge her jaw and devour the world 2k21 she deserves it

idk what to tell you beth you like it

like let’s pause for a sec and examine the situation shall we? this ep provides some really interesting contrast between beth’s extremely different relationships with the men in her life.

1. we have dean who is, i would argue, shown throughout the ep to be a complete albatross of guilt and long expired, turned toxic gratitude dangling from a rapidly fraying thread called parenting. he’s furious with beth to the point of not wanting to see her while in prison, choosing to stay in prison to avoid coping with how thoroughly their house of cards is tumbling down and the reality of who beth is and who they are to each other that collapse is exposing. 2. we have fitzpatrick who repeatedly tramples her boundaries in a tunnel vision pursuit of the person he thinks she is and his fantasy of the relationship he could have with this person who doesn’t actually exist and we’ve seen how uncomfortable it makes beth to the point that she finally blows up at him, reasserting who she is and it, idk if i would say scares him, but it definitely turns him off. 3. and then we have rio who she is locked in a nightmare game of cat and mouse with, who she has convinced herself is the source of all of her problems and yet when push comes to shove is still the person that she turns to for guidance and support, who she has no objection to sharing physical space with (i hear rumors the pool scene reads wildly divide and yeah i can see how but i am firmly camp they are both experiencing some stupidly complicated emotional upheaval and that’s what that face is, y’all take it how you will), who is also the only person this ep to witness the single, genuine, uncomplicatedly happy glimpse of one elizabeth boland née marks (who can’t help but grin in response to her joy and honestly who wouldn’t she is so gd cUte before he rips the rug out from underneath her)

i got worked up and forgot where i was going with this

something about contrast

but also the like, comfort and familiarity and ease even when Extremely Annoyed

idk i just think it’s neat

let’s see what else happens

oh right they play """"""""""pool"""""""""""

wait no, we’re not there yet

first rio’s gotta do that big-eyed disney princess look he shoots beth’s way from time to time, 209 being the notable example that comes to mind

h E Lp

so now we’re at sinking the eight ball

yeah, no, he does not know how pool works

i’d say it’s embarrassing but what isn’t with them

SPEAKING OF EMBARRASSING

or maybe i mean inexplicable

i tried to be v hardcore on not letting myself speculate about the pool scene and how it would come to be so sexy bc speculation has only ever led to either disappointment or me getting really, really over the top competitive about it to the point where it isn’t even fun for me anymore (which is saying something) but i couldn’t help spinning out potential scenarios bc like why???? how????? the man is draped over her like a blanket and smELliNg heR haiR surely that doesn’t just happen??????

WHAT A FOOL I WAS

LITERALLY FOR NO REASON AT ALL RIO’S LIKE FUCK YOUR PERSONAL SPACE CRIME WIFE IT’S OUR PERSONAL SPACE

AND BETH’S JUST LIKE YEAH SURE CRIME HUSBAND THIS IS FINE AND NORMAL I HAVE NO FURTHER COMMENTARY

LIKE?????????????????????????????????????????

h An dS

hAn D S

H a nD s

anD theN hE smelLs heR hAir like a fuckiN lunAtic

i just

TO WHAT PURPOSE

SCIENCE P L E A S E E X P L A I N

i know we all like to argue until the cows come home over what specific flavor of sloppy the show is and then we argue with the cows but like

this didn’t happen out of nowhere

they’re setting something up

(they fuckin’)

(do not argue with me or my cows)

thE shoUldeR roLl

no thoughts just that

AND THEN SHE MAKES IT

(and everything b o u n c e s)

AND SHE’S SO CUTE????? MY WIFE???????? I LOVE HER????????????

no but literally when was the last time beth was that happy

it’s so pure

and it makes him lauGh toO

s Of t

and then rio’s like no but seriously fuck your husband let him rot in jail and beth’s facce falls and my heart breaks and everyone remembers everything is terrible bc they are absolutely inFURIATING nigHTMARE PEOPLE who caNNOT USE THEIR WORDs

what was the actual question here i don’t even remember

oh right why the eight ball

probs bc it color coordinated with both his and beth’s outfits bc he is A Heaux Like That

#this got entirely away from me #i am not sorry #I LIVE HERE NOW #beth x rio #nbc good girls #see the thing about the pool scene is there was no way i was going to be disappointed #and lo i was not #gg 4x03 #gg spoilers #i guess #long post #whoops

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Lost Years

Summary - After spending five years in LA, Dean comes back to Lawrence and meets up with his bestfriend or rather his then bestfriend. Y/N isn't exactly happy on seeing Dean either. Will he be able to fix his strained relationship with her?

Pairing - Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - Cheesy fluff, angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of divorce, parents separation, drinking, bad dates, kissing, unprotected sex 18+ (wrap it before you tap it), p in v smut, oral sex (fem receiving), sex in the Impala.

WC - 5.3k+ (....oops)

Square filled - Angst ( @girl-next-door-writes ) and “Why the fuck would you laugh at that?” ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )

A/N - This is my submission to @downanddirtydean's 500 followers writing challenge (Congratulations again, Lyd). Prompt is in bold.

This is an AU. Flashbacks are in Italics.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thank you so much, hon) and thank you to @whatareyousearchingfordean for giving this a read and leaving some valuable comments❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Fuckin’ brilliant!” A weary exclamation left the woman's mouth as she read the text displayed on the device's screen in her hand.

There was a very significant reason why she didn't believe in blind dates, but Jo had been stubborn and insistent. And with Valentine's Day approaching, Y/N didn't want to spend the day in her pjs, crying over The Notebook again. So she had agreed to give a chance to Jo’s friend, or to be more precise, her friend's cousin. His name was Gabriel, and from what she had heard from her mutual friend circle, he seemed to be a decent guy.

But now all she wanted was to go back in time and change her decision to give into Jo’s request, because looking at the empty chair in front of her, she regretted allowing her friend to even try to interfere in her love life.

She signaled the waiter to bring over her check after downing the entire glass of wine. The restaurant was quite busy tonight. It was packed with people on this fine Saturday evening - from lovestruck couples to families with crying kids, Y/N found herself feeling quite lonely as she had stupidly waited on her date to show up for such a long time. Heat crept up her neck in embarrassment when the waiter showed up, the latter’s eyes filled with sympathy as Y/N paid the price of her drink.

Within no time, she was out of the restaurant.

Glancing down at her green dress, she swore under her breath. She tried to book a cab to return to the comfort of her home when her eyes caught the glowing signboard of The Roadhouse right around the corner of the street. The only thing she could think of was to get black-out drunk now. Y/N, still in her high heels, trudged down the path to Ellen’s bar.

Dressed up all for nothing. Rolling her eyes at herself, she went inside the establishment, heading straight towards the counter and taking a seat there. Like any other weekend nights, the place was stuffed. Y/N let her eyes trail over the many patrons of the dingy bar, landing finally on the middle-aged brunette who ran the place

“Ellen!” She called out to the woman.

“Hey, honey,” she approached Y/N, all the while glaring daggers at the drunk she had just previously been arguing with, “A bit overdressed for this place, don't ya think?”

“Your daughter is officially fired from matchmaking services,” Y/N sighed.

“Boy troubles, huh? What can I get ya, hon?” Sympathy was evident in Ellen’s eyes as she spoke. Y/N was as much of a daughter to her as Jo was. The girl had been through so much heartbreak, all Ellen wanted was to see a smile on her face.

“The usual,” Y/N gave a sad smile.

“Rough night indeed, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. The woman in question shrugged defeatedly. Ellen patted her arm in comfort before she left her to arrange for her drink, leaving Y/N to wallow in self-pity.

She thought back to when her life had taken such a traumatic turn. All her friends were either getting engaged, married, or popping out kids. But not Y/n... she was in her late twenties now, and she couldn't even find herself an eligible man.

Ellen pushed the glass towards her. Sighing, she picked it up as she admired the liquid in it. She drank slowly, every sip creating a burning sensation at the back of her throat. Fingers still wrapped around the glassware, she set it down, looking around the bar. The place was filled with mad chatters and howling laughs along with the music blasting from the stereo placed on the deck inside the room, a stark contrast to how lonely she felt. She signaled Ellen for another round, who nodded before giving her that sad understanding smile Y/N was now starting to hate. Frowning, she dropped her head and exhaled.

“Sweetheart, where did that pretty smile for yours go?” Y/N was quickly pulled out from her daze by a very familiar voice; a voice she hadn't heard in a few years. It couldn't be him, he was supposed to be in LA!

“Ella?” The term of endearment brought back dozens of memories, some good and some bad, but all were about him - the freckled face teenage boy with dirty blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest in the summertime she had once fallen for. It brought up the painful memory of their first meet which she had tried to forget so hard.

She remembered the day of their first drama practice when Dean had grudgingly walked into the room. He had reluctantly agreed to play the Prince in the Cinderella act after Cas who was supposed to be the Prince had accidentally ended up with a broken leg. He didn’t know her name, so he had called her ‘Ella’ to get her attention which was the start of their epic friendship.

Y/N didn't dare to turn around to look at him, after all, he wasn't the scrawny teenager from Lawrence anymore. He was now the lead singer and guitarist of a popular rock band with a fancy name and songs that were in the top ten of Billboard music charts. Yes, she did keep up with his rising fame, sometimes even listening to one of his songs before she was once again reminded of the heartbreak he had caused.

“You can't even look at me.” His voice was barely a whisper but loud enough for her to hear as he slid into the stool beside her.

Gathering enough courage, she raised her head. “Dean.” His name rolled off her tongue so easily, but her heart ached for the past. Dean cracked a smile at her as his emerald eyes did not leave hers once. It was as if he was memorizing every tiny detail of her face and if anyone would've asked him, he would've replied that he was.

Y/N hadn't changed much over the years he had spent in LA. She was still the same girl he had first met in school and the last time he had seen her at their graduation. She was a shy girl but they had clicked instantly. Growing up, she was his best friend, his person, his escape.

“Dean Winchester has walked into my bar. Must be my lucky day!” Ellen’s voice thundered across the room, grabbing the attention of a few intoxicated people. “How's LA treating you, boy?”

“Ellen! It's awesome to see you again.” A grin broke out on Dean's face as he jumped out of his seat and pulled the lady into a bear hug. “LA’s pretty okay. It is as good as the industry can be.”

“Heard some of your songs, I knew you had the talent,” Ellen said, jabbing her finger into his chest to prove her point. “Now what can I get ya? On the house.”

“A beer will be just fine. Don't want to show up to the Winchester house drunk!” He chuckled.

“Alright, coming right up. Y/N, honey, you want another round or a glass of water?” The lady asked.

“I'll be leaving in a few. Glass of water it is, El.” She replied but was then interrupted by Dean.

“One drink, with me. It's on me, Ella.” There it was again, that fucking name. A few years ago, that name would have made her cheeks heat up but now, it just made her blood boil. She clenched her hand into fists, tears pricking at her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Do not call me that.” She hissed, surprising Dean. Y/N turned towards the man, finally taking a good look at him. He had changed a lot, had become more handsome but LA had not modified his clothing style because he was still wearing his signature flannel and jeans accompanied by a jacket. She wondered how many girls had stopped him for a picture or an autograph on his way back to Lawrence, jealousy seeping into her. She hated the way he still had that effect on her.

“Y/N-” She knew what he was going to say. ‘I am sorry’, but she wasn't ready to forgive him now, if ever.

“No. Don't.” She stopped him mid-sentence, hands digging into her purse as she pulled out the money for her drinks, dropping them on the counter.

“El, I am going home.” Ellen, who was silently watching their whole exchange, nodded her head before asking, “Want me to call a cab for you?”

“No. I'm going to crash at your place. I need to have a word with Jo.” Y/N said since it was near impossible for her to walk back to her house, considering she was quite tipsy and still in heels, but she also didn't want to wait until the woman called a cab with Dean Winchester anywhere nearby. After getting her belongings, she got out of the barstool and left the place on wobbly legs. Her feet would no doubt be screaming in pain the next day.

Stepping out, she inhaled deeply, letting a few tears fall as the cool air hit her face. After their graduation, Y/N had sworn she would try her best to forget the older Winchester. She wasn't quite successful in her aim, because many times she would come across his gorgeous face on the cover of a magazine or his song would be playing on the radio, striking up old memories of their time spent together in high school.

Still lost in her thoughts, she took a step forward, only to misjudge the cobblestone path and end up losing her balance. She braced herself for the impending fall but was saved by a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist.

“Watch your step, sweetheart,” Dean said, letting her down gently. “Lemme see, did you hurt your ankle?” He went down on his knees in front of her, pulling a low gasp out of her as he examined her feet.

“Were you following me?” Y/N gritted out those words.

“No.” He shook his head but she clearly saw through the lie.

“I’m fine. You can go now.” She said, her eyes looking everywhere but the man.

“Come on, don't be so stubborn. Get in the car, I'll drop you off at your house or Jo’s place if you want.” He said looking up, trying to catch her eyes but she was adamant about not giving him that satisfaction. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, lips quivering before she answered.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered, a tear running down her cheek. All that preparation for not breaking down in front of Dean and her body still betrayed her. The man got up. Y/N noticed that he was now wearing a cap, probably to hide from any bystander who might recognize him.

“Y/N/N, I-” Dean was at a loss of words. He hated seeing her so heartbroken and he loathed himself for being the cause of it. He tried to reach out and hold her hand but she recoiled back, making him wince. “Please, Ella.”

“Stop calling me that, Winchester. How many times do I have to repeat that?” Her voice came out as a little whine, making Dean chuckle. He missed it - her tone, the timbre, the intensity in her pitch, and the words it said, which used to be his voice of reason; he missed his best friend. “Why the fuck would you laugh at that? I am not doing stand up comedy out here.” Y/N was still the strong-headed girl he adored.

“You'll probably hurt yourself if you walk in those heels again with how tipsy you are right now. Get in the car, I know you missed cruising around the town in Baby because she missed you for sure.” And that thankfully got the exact reaction out of her that he had anticipated. She finally looked right at him, her face lit up at the pretense of seeing the beloved black car again.

“I thought she was in LA with you.” Y/N said and then it dawned on her, “Did you drive across the States?”

“Damn right I did!” He beamed in reply like he had won a trophy, his heart swelling with happiness when he saw the smile forming on her face mixed with awe and surprise. He still had to go a long way to get her back, but he had to take baby steps. At least he managed to make her smile. “So? Want to go out, just like the old times?”

The smile instantly disappeared from Y/N’s lips and Dean knew he fucked up right then. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the good ol’ days. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry-”

“Just drop me off at Jo’s. That's it.” She said, lowering her gaze. He waved her over to the direction where his car was parked. Y/N started to walk along as Dean wordlessly followed her.

Y/N felt a wave of nausea hit her. She didn't do well in social gatherings and this was her graduation ceremony. One wrong step, one wrong word, or a wardrobe malfunction, and the day could turn into a disaster in an instant.

“Honey, you're gonna be excellent out there! We're all very proud of you.” Mary said while hugging Y/N tightly as they both waited on the former's older son to come downstairs who was running late, as usual. She had grown incredibly close to the Winchester family over the years. They were her rock, especially Dean who was there with her at every step as she went through the separation of her parents.

“Are you and John going to join my parents at the ceremony? Someone needs to stop them before they end up killing each other.” She grimaced.

“Isn't this going to be the first time they are together in one single room, since their….you know-” Sam asked as he came out of the kitchen, a green smoothie in his hands. Dean might have been her best friend, her confidante, but Sam was the little brother she never thought she needed.

“First get that green drink outta my sight, I already feel like I'm gonna throw up. Second, you can speak about the divorce. It's not taboo and it was a long time coming. Everyone knew that.” Y/N reluctantly said. The separation of her parents might have been foreseeable but, nevertheless, it still hurt her to see her parents walkout in two separate ways once the divorce was finalized. The house had become much quieter these days which she was thankful for but she also felt the evident absence of her father.

“Mom and Dad will definitely be there!” Dean announced loudly as he came down the stairs. “Come on let's go. Don't wanna be late for our own graduation ceremony!” She could always count on him to make her day better.

“I should have told you.”

“W-what?” Y/N asked dumbfoundedly as Dean’s gruff voice broke her out of the reverie and pulled her back to reality. A minute passed when she noticed even if his hands were on the steering, he wasn't driving anymore.

“This-” she looked out of the window, “this isn't Jo’s place.”

“No, this is our place,” Dean said.

“Dean.” This was the last place she wanted to be at, let alone be here with Dean. It had taken every ounce of her strength to not run back to this place over the past few years whenever she missed her best friend, only to realize that he had left her in the dust on his path to fame and didn't care about her as much as she used to think. Too many memories were attached to this particular place.

“I missed this, Y/N.” He said, killing the engine and slowly opening the door on his side. Y/N understood what he was trying to do and her mind screamed at her in protest to not follow him but her heart told her to follow the man it belonged to.

Dean finally stepped out of the car and walked over to the closed door on her side. She opened the door herself before he could and stepped out as well with a huff. The place was the same as it ever was. “I haven't been here since graduation.” She blurted out.

“I should have told you,” Dean said as they started to walk to their spot. Y/N chose to remain quiet. “Ella, please say somethin’.”

“I am not your Ella anymore, Dean. Stop calling me that.” She said but this time it wasn't a whine, instead, she yelled it out. She was sick and tired of yearning for the man who had broken her heart several years ago and now she was scared that he was gonna leave her once again.

“You'll always be my Ella.” He said.

“The Prince didn't lie to Cinderella and leave her behind but you- it hurts me to remember how close we were then. You left me without even a simple goodbye, so no, I am not your Ella anymore.” She flinched when he reached out for her.

He had stopped walking now and so had she. Dean moved closer to her before standing exactly in front of her. His hands lightly traced her jaw as she looked up at him. She looked just as enchanting under the moonlight as he remembered. He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs gently caressed her cheeks. She had given up fighting herself now, driven only by instinct. All the walls that she had put up came crumbling down with one touch of his.

“Why do you think I didn't say goodbye to you?” Dean whispered.

“Maybe all the years that we spent together meant nothing to you.” Her voice was like a melody to his ears but the words broke his heart even further.

“Because it was too damn hard. When RC Records called me up three days before graduation, you were the first person I wanted to tell, but I couldn't, ‘cause if I did, I wouldn't have made it to where I am right now.” He said, not a trace of mirth on his face.

“I wouldn't have held you back.” It was simple. Y/N always wanted to stay in Lawrence and look over her mother's bakery shop, and that's what she ended up doing. She now owned the shop and her business was thriving. Dean had wanted to become a singer ever since he was ten when he was forced to play the Prince, opposite to Y/N’s lead. He had found his passion and she had always encouraged it, even when John had strongly protested against him choosing music as his major. “You know I always supported you.”

“I know that, but thinking about not seeing you every day made me not want to go. I kept imagining you upset and that's why I didn't have it in me to tell you about my break.” He said. Y/N grabbed his hands pushing them away from her face.

“You ended up making me sad anyway. So why the fuck are you back?” She was enraged.

“Ella-” Dean tried to come closer but she stepped back, “I came to see my family.”

“Then why are you wasting your time here with me?”

“Because you're the most important person in my life and every day I spent away from you, you were the only person on my mind.” Dean smiled.

“What?”

“You were the first thought when I woke up and the last thought when I went to sleep.” He said and pulled her close when she finally stopped fighting. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I know I am late and probably missed my chance, but five years in LA have taught me to take the risks. I love you, Ella.”

“I can't-” Dean’s smile felt but he quickly recovered.

“I-I understand.” He let out a dry chuckle, “You got a man back at home waiting for you. He sure is one lucky bastard.”

“No. You do not fucking understand! You are just so in your head, it's just-” She flailed her arms around in utter frustration. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to move on? I have been on so many dates but no man was ever enough for me, all because of your sorry ass! The Graduation Day - I knew you always thought of me as your best friend, so I had decided to ask you out myself,”

“Y/N-”

“No, let me finish. You have to fucking listen about how much pain you put me through these five years! The next day, I went to your house only to hear from your parents that you were on your way to LA. I fucking hate you!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I fucking hate how much I still love you, Dean!”

His eyes widened in surprise as he kept opening and closing his mouth like a damn fish. He was unable to form a coherent sentence and so he cupped Y/N’s cheeks in his big, warm hands once more, but now he dipped down, tilting his face and pulling her in for a kiss. His teeth grazed her bottom lips, making her moan into his mouth. She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she found herself completely enamored by him. Her hands snuck to the back of his neck as she steadied herself. Her knees buckled under his hypnotic touch as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, her whole body tingled and toes curled up as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

“De,” Y/N tried to catch her breath when Dean finally let go of her lips, already missing the feel of her on him.

His hands traveled down her body, making her gasp aloud at the feel. He lowered his mouth as he started to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “Dean, please. Don't.” Her three short words made him stop.

“Alright.” He gulped.

“I don't want to get my heart broken again, Winchester, I don't think I can survive it again.” Y/N knew he would return to LA within a week, and so she didn't want to take this any further. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, right?”

“I won't. I am not going back.” Y/N looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes, “I don't care about my career anymore. Five years without you was like living in hell and my bandmates are probably so tired of hearing how much I missed you. I will write my songs from here in Lawrence if it means that I'll be closer to you.”

“You would do that for me?” She asked sincerely.

“I would. I was a stupid kid back then but now I have realized that nothing's more important to me than you. I don't want to lose my Ella ever again.” He said, “I'm sorry for taking so long to understand that. There is no way-” His words were cut off as Y/N captured his lips with her own. The sudden kiss caught him off guard but he quickly pulled himself together to kiss her back. “Shit, Y/N-” he gasped when he felt his dick twitch. He picked her up in quick motion and went towards the car. Y/N giggled when her back lightly collided with Baby’s door. Dean dropped his head, nipping at the pulse point on her neck.

“Dean-” She moaned, which was better than any music he had ever made as his hands slipped under her dress, his fingers hovering over her soaked panties. Her thighs clenched in anticipation.

“You have no idea how long I dreamt of having you. You're soaked, sweetheart. ” He huskily said, his fingers hooking on the waistband of her cotton panties. “Tell me to stop and I will, in a heartbeat. No questions.”

“N-no. Don't stop.” Y/N cooed. Dean dragged down her panties which pooled at her feet. He picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket. Thankfully, there was no one around but the thrill of being out in the open with Dean got her even more hot and bothered. Her hands grasped onto his biceps tightly so that she wouldn't topple over when Dean slipped a finger into her tight pussy. Her mouth fell open, her head dropping on his shoulder as he started pumping slowly, every drag of his finger pushing her closer to the edge.

Dean felt his pants tighten as he heard the sweet moan of his name leave her lips. Her raspy voice was one he could hear all day long, her heavy pants tickling his skin. With one hand he unbuckled his belt, trying to relieve himself a little, but when a cry of pleasure left her lips as he slipped in another finger, he hoped that he wouldn't cream his pants like a freaking teenage boy.

Y/N felt the coil in her stomach tighten as she inched towards her climax. Dean quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside her and brushing her g-spot, each time eliciting a low moan out of her. “Dean….” She couldn't form any coherent words other than chanting his name over and over again and a moment later, the coil snapped as she felt herself coming undone. He delicately pulled his fingers out of her, which were covered in her juice. Dean reached behind her, yanking the door open as he nudged her to go in. She readily obliged and slid into the seat with shaky legs. He climbed into the backseat after her, closing the door behind him.

Her dress had ridden up her thigh, exposing her glistening pussy. Dean’s eyes darkened at the sight before him as he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere in the front. He pushed her dress further up. She raised her hands as he successfully got her out of the garment and unhooked her bra. Y/N moved further back into the seat, her back resting against the door on the other side as Dean started to leave kisses down her body.

“Have you ever thought about this? ‘Cause I did, every freaking day.” Dean asked, kissing the valley between her breasts, the rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“E-every time I touched myself, I thought of you.” She said, gasping out loud at every word when his mouth found her breasts and started to suck on the soft skin, flicking a nipple with his tongue and twirling the other within his fingers.

“Oh-” Dean raised his head to look at her before he moved south, “Did you think about me between your legs just like this-” He said as he left kisses along her thigh, his stubble creating soft burns on her skin in its wake that she would definitely remember. He finally stopped at her nether regions, his hot breath fanning against her throbbing pussy. “Did you think about me tasting you like this?”

Y/N threw her head back in pleasure when his mouth latched onto her sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue flicking at her aching nub. Her hands traveled down to his head, her fingers getting tangled up in his soft hair and pulled at the strands, making him groan.

“Fuck-” She exclaimed as Dean hungrily devoured her, his tongue repeatedly assaulting her sensitive pussy, sucking needily on her bundle of nerves. Y/N threw her head back in pleasure as she felt the coil in your stomach tighten before a wave of pleasure washed over her. “Shit!” She gasped as Dean’s tongue lapped her juices hungrily.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good.” He panted before he unbuttoned his pants pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection sprung from his confines. “Son of a bitch, I don’t have-” Y/N sensed his uneasiness.

“I’m on the pill.” She smirked as she stared at his toned body.

“Well, I’m clean.” She reached out to touch his stomach, hands then traveling down to his length. Dean dropped his head, biting down on his lips, “Y/N-” He pushed her hands away, smirking as he ran his hand along his hardened cock, giving it a few strokes, the tip beaded with precum. He looked at Y/N once and lined himself with her dripping entrance when she gave him a nod to go ahead.

His swollen tip teasingly nudged at her opening before he pushed himself into her.

“Shit Y/N-” Dean grunted, simultaneously as Y/N hissed out at the painful sensation at the beginning as he pushed himself into her, letting her adjust around his size before she told him to move. He circled his hips as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside her, before pushing back in again, deeper than before.

“Holy fuck-” Y/N moaned out when he quickened his pace, hitting her g-spot repeatedly with every thrust as they both inched towards their release. Dean kissed her as he continued to thrust deep into her, their breathing growing erratic, the windows of the chevy fogged up and the car filled with their groans and moans as they both chased their release. She hooked her arms at the small of his back as he started to nibble at her sweet spot. His hand moved south, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit which further edged her.

“Shit De!” Y/N cried out loud as her walls fluttered around his pulsating length when she felt herself coming undone. Dean’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted into the crook of her neck before he spilled into her with one cry of her name, painting her walls with his seed. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath before he gently pulled out.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Dean panted, beads of sweat lining his forehead as they both laid in each other’s arms, basking in the post-coital bliss. “Was this better than your fantasies? ‘Cause, ‘twas surely better than mine.” Dean smirked, reaching out to grab a piece of cloth to clean themselves up. “We should have done this sooner.”

“If only you hadn't been such a coward.” Y/n teased with a giggle.

“Your dumbass could have called me up. I wasted five years being one, terrified to hear how much you hate me.” He grumbled, cleaning up the mess on the seat. Honestly, she could have but she didn't ‘cause she was scared to hear the truth as well; that Dean had truly left her.

“So, you’re sayin’ we’re both a couple of dumbasses.” Y/N chuckled, putting on her bra.

“Your words, not mine.” Dean gave her a sly smirk. “The Winchester household will be so delighted, once they know I finally got my head out of my ass and looked at the beautiful woman right in front of me.” He was right in every sense. The Winchesters, all of them had always believed that those two would end up together. Everyone saw how in love they were except Y/N and Dean.

“Isn't it too early for the introduce-the-girlfriend-to-the-family thing?” She asked which got an eye roll out of the man. “Panties?”

“I don't have them.” Dean sneakily raised his hands.

“I saw you stuff them into your pocket.” He grabbed her dress from the front seat, throwing it at her.

“Put this on, or preferably, just don't.” He gave her a boyish smile, getting a raised eyebrow in reply, “Oh I'm not done with you. Gotta make up for the lost years, sweetheart.” Dean's eyes darkened at the thought as Y/N gulped, knowing she wouldn't be able to walk properly for weeks.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

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[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

the easiness of loving you

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Janus, Remus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Dukeceit, pre-Intrualiceit, mentioned Creativitwins, mentioned Analogical Warnings: Language; implied sexual content; alcohol mention; sleep deprivation mention; polyamphobia mention; Roman accidentally behaves in an asshole-ish way off-page.  Word count: 6161

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My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

Dukeceit Week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Three firsts and one very lovely last that Janus and Remus experienced together.

Notes: Day 7 of Dukeceit Week 2021! I may be way late to tag @dukeceitweek  but I am very proud of finally getting this done—I was struggling with some IRL stuff and I’m very happy to have finally completed this last piece! Takes place in my Starlight Universe, where each piece can be read without any context. Janus uses they/them pronouns in the first three scenes and he/they in the final scene; Patton uses only he/him throughout this fic. 

-- 

The first official date Remus and Janus went on together was to the aquarium.

Sure, there had been that game of Spin the Bottle a few weeks back; and frequent texts back and forth since then; and the wonderfully eventful trip last week to the skate park with Logan and Virgil, when Remus and Janus had officially gotten together; and the extremely fun few hours after that when Janus and Remus discovered their friends had ditched them, and so they had gone back to Remus’s dorm and… gotten to know each other a little better; and then even more frequent texts and phone calls after that. But they technically had yet to go on an actual date.

And, stupidly, Janus was feeling nervous about it. Which was pointless, honestly—why should they feel so nervous about just spending time with Remus, talking and looking at fish and maybe holding hands? They had already spent probably multiple hours with his tongue practically down their throat. Not to mention… other things. It was stupid to feel so nervous about a simple, silly little date. They were well past worrying that spending time with him wouldn’t go well. Hell, Remus even already knew they were autistic, and had responded fantastically well, and apparently he and his brother both had ADHD, so there wasn’t even much to worry about in that area.

But. All the same. Janus was nervous. Jittery, anxious nervousness, manifesting itself in restless energy that they couldn’t stim away, fingers tapping on the nearest surface, thoughtlessly nibbling at the skin next to their thumbnail until it bled and they made a face and wrapped all their fingertips in bandaids to stop themself, wrapping strands of their hair around their fingers and tugging, and on and on. They were fully ready to go almost two hours before it was time to leave—dressed in a clingy black top with a v-neck that showed off their collarbones and black skinny jeans with neat rips in the knees—so they sat at their desk and jiggled their leg and pulled up the online portal for their classes.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Janus’s roommate, an overly friendly fellow pre-law student named Gary whose use of Janus’s correct pronouns was spotty but not nonexistent, asked after perhaps an hour of Janus completely failing to focus on homework.

“Nothing,” Janus snapped venomously. “Leave me alone.”

“Jeez. Chill out.” He held up his hands peaceably and backed off; thankfully, he gave them space afterwards without attempting to strike up more conversation.

At last, two minutes before the time Janus and Remus had agreed to meet up, their phone vibrated with a text from Remus.

Remus: Im outside the dorm 😝 Whenever ur ready, no rush

Janus drew in a long breath, responded with a single thumbs-up emoji, and grabbed their wallet and a black denim jacket in case they got cold—which was likely, even though it was sunny outside and only early October. Janus got chilly easily.

“You going somewhere?” Gary inquired from where he was sprawled on the top bunk with his phone.

“Yes,” Janus said shortly.

“Cool, want company?” He pushed himself up on one elbow.

“No. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Janus shut the door, ignoring the disappointed look on Gary’s face, and made their way downstairs and out of the building.

Sure enough, Remus awaited them, leaning against one of the trees on the lawn outside with his hands in his pockets, wearing torn jeans with fishnets underneath and an olive green crop top over a black binder, cut high enough to show off both the high waist of the fishnets and his belly button piercing. He lit up as soon as he saw them, hurrying over and linking his arm through theirs. “Hi, baby!” He leaned up to kiss their cheek.

Janus’s cheeks warmed at the nickname. “Hi,” they said softly, putting their hand on his where it rested on their other arm. “How are you?”

“I’m good! Excited to go see some fish.” Remus grinned up at Janus as the pair began walking towards the bus stop. “And to watch you watch fish, I bet you’re gonna be really cute. Not that you’re ever not hot as fuck, but you know.”

“Do you ever stop flirting?” Janus asked, not bothering to wipe the smile off their face.

“Nope!” Remus seized their hand and lifted it to his lips. “You’re too cute for that. Not unless you want me to, I mean. But, like, nah.”

“I—I don’t mind, no,” Janus said, when he looked expectantly at them. “It’s—nice.”

“Good! I agree.” Remus beamed. “Wanna go find the fish now?”

Perhaps half an hour—and several rooms full of fish—later, Remus declared, “Oh, my god, bringing you here was the best idea ever.”

Janus startled and glanced away from the tank, which they had practically been glued to, eyes wide as they took in the soothing watery light and the gentle motions of the fishes. “How so?” they asked, trying to sound nonchalant and internally wondering if they perhaps ought to be paying more attention to Remus, at their side with his hand tucked into theirs, rather than to the fish, however engrossing those might be.

“You’re fucking adorable,” Remus explained. “Can I take pictures of you? You look so fucking happy to watch critters swimming around, it’s the actual cutest shit I have ever seen. Makes me wanna kiss you. And other things.” He leaned up and whispered something in their ear that made them choke on air and glance around to make sure nobody else was within earshot.

“Pictures are fine, I suppose,” Janus agreed. “And—the other things also sound nice, later.”

Remus wiggled their eyebrows suggestively, making Janus’s cheeks flush. “Good to know,” he said sweetly. “C’mon, wanna go look at the octopodes?” They gestured towards the next room.

“The… what?”

“It’s the technically most correct plural of octopus,” Remus explained, bouncing on their toes. “It’s from Greek or something. Octopi is actually the least correct of all, and octopuses is in the middle—it’s correct, but it’s newer. My brother hates ‘octopodes,’ so I use it as much as possible.”

Janus laughed. “Very well. Show me the octopodes.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Remus squeezed Janus’s hand and tugged them towards the door to the room.

If Janus hadn’t been so busy holding Remus’s hand and laughing as he suggested terrible (and mostly inappropriate) names for the different creatures in the tanks, perhaps they might have thought back to their nerves from earlier in the afternoon. If they hadn’t been so distracted by Remus tugging them into the darkest corner of the jellyfish room and kissing them silly, they might have laughed to themself and wondered how they could possibly have been nervous about something as easy—and wonderful—as being around Remus.

But Janus was busy lacing their fingers through Remus’s and pulling his hand up to their lips to press a gentle kiss to it, and busy pointing at a particularly brightly colored fish and saying “that’s you,” and busy reveling in the way that Remus looked equally starry-eyed after both interactions, and Janus was altogether far too busy with important matters like these to even remember that they had been worried.

***

The first time they said “I love you” to each other was an accident.

It was almost the end of first year; finals week was nearing at an alarming rate, and summer break beckoned invitingly—but summer break also meant moving out of the dorms they’d settled into so well, and spending a summer apart, and Remus was, surprisingly, by far the more antsy of the two of them about this idea.

“I just don’t like it,” he said for the thousandth time, sprawled on Janus’s chest and tracing his finger back and forth along their collarbones. They were in Remus’s dorm, since it was Saturday and his roommate went home on weekends, and the pair of them had been cuddling in his bed for quite some time now.

“It’s not that long,” Janus repeated patiently. “And we can FaceTime. And I think I can talk my parents into letting me have people over, if you want to come visit.”

“I know,” Remus mumbled against their skin. “But I’ll miss you. ’N it scares me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Janus said. “I promise.” They stroked their fingers through his hair. “And Roman and I are roommates next year, so it’s not like you’ll be able to get away from me then. We’ve already signed the housing contract, and everything.” They did their best to inject some levity into their tone.

There was a pause, silence too heavy.

“But what if you wanna get away from me?” Remus said desperately.

Janus frowned. “I’m not going to,” they said, wrapping their arms a little more tightly around him. “I happen to enjoy your presence in my life, thank you.”

Remus’s hand crept up to cling to their shoulder. “How much?” he said, in a small, pleading tone.

Janus’s brows furrowed. This nervousness and lack of confidence wasn’t like Remus. He’d been jittery like this all week, and even a little bit for a few weeks before, and this was frankly getting out of hand, but Janus couldn’t fathom what the root of the problem was to get at solving it.

They cupped the side of his face in their hand and gently tugged it up for a kiss, tangling their fingers firmly in his hair and reaching with their other hand to find one of his and lace their fingers tightly together.

He clung to their hand and kissed them back desperately, as if seeking for an answer to some unspoken but terribly important question.

“So much,” Janus said quietly as they broke apart. “I like you so much, Remus.”

For some reason, this made Remus look like they were about to cry. “Yeah,” they mumbled. “Yeah, I know.” They leaned in and kissed Janus again, quick and hard, then pushed themself to roll off of Janus’s chest and sit up. “I gotta tell you something.”

Janus blinked and sat up as well. “Okay.” Their mind raced, wondering what on earth this could possibly be about, pulse skyrocketing with anxiety.

Remus twisted their hands together, playing with one of the rings on his fingers. “I—um—so I—I, um—” He swallowed and looked over at Janus. “I like you so much, too, okay? You’re—you’re the absolute best partner, you are, you’re fucking perfect, I—” He broke off and swallowed again, looking absolutely terrified.

“What do you want to tell me?” Janus asked, their voice too loud even with how quietly they spoke, trying so hard to shove down an answering terror because it felt too much like this was heading for some catch, some but… that would push them off a terrible cliff, and they had no idea where Remus was heading but the expression of fright on his face filled Janus’s stomach with dread.

“Right.” Remus nodded and pressed his lips together to stop the trembling. “So—I—I’ve been, um, thinking—or, fuck, I guess… questioning? For a—a while now—and—oh, fuck it.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Um, I think I’m polyamorous.” He did not meet their eyes, desperately fidgeting with the rings on his hands.

Janus blinked. “Is… that all?” they asked after a minute, cautious and curious.

Remus’s mouth worked, and he nodded. “And I—I promise it’s not anything like you’re not enough for me, or anything,” he said quickly, sounding desperate still and practically begging, “you’re fucking amazing, I—you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I swear, I just—”

“Remus,” Janus interrupted, reaching for both of his hands and clutching them.

“We don’t—I don’t even have to do anything about it, I don’t really like anyone else right now, I don’t need to date other people if you don’t want me to, I just—I just had to tell you now that I figured it out, I—” Remus’s voice was climbing higher and speeding up, sounding more and more panicky.

“Remus,” Janus repeated insistently, and Remus cut off in an abrupt hiccup of breath.

“Yeah?” he asked. Small. Subdued. Wrong.

“That’s great,” Janus said.

There was a beat of silence.

“What?”

Well, and didn’t the startled tone to Remus’s voice just about break Janus’s heart?

“That’s great, darling,” Janus repeated, squeezing his hands. “I’m so happy for you to have found that out about yourself.”

“O—oh,” Remus said, his voice very wobbly indeed. “Okay—okay, cool, uh—that, that’s neat.”

Janus tugged at his hands, and he easily scrambled forward across the little space between them right into Janus’s lap, arms sliding about Janus’s waist and face nuzzling into the crook of their neck.

Janus pretended not to hear Remus’s sniffle or feel the hot dampness of tears against their skin. “Remus?” they said quietly.

“Hm?”

Janus took a breath, rubbing one hand against the bare skin of Remus’s back below his crop top to ground themself. “I’m polyam too. Or—I’d like to be,” they whispered, heart thumping at saying so aloud.

Remus gulped and lifted his head, wiping his eyes and nose on the back of his hand all in one gesture. “You—wait, really?”

Janus bit the inside of their lip and nodded without meeting Remus’s eyes, reaching up to tuck some of Remus’s hair behind his ear. “Yeah. I’ve known for a while now.”

Remus sniffled loudly and wiped at their nose again. “Wow.” He laughed shakily. “And here I was scared you’d be mad.”

Janus shook their head and pressed their forehead to his. “I’m not mad at all. Darling, is this what’s had you so worked up this week?”

“Yeah.” Remus closed his eyes. “I, I told Roman and he got weird about it, and he’s never done that before when I came out about any other thing. And it made me scared that you’d—I dunno—” He broke off with a grimace.

“Roman’s an ass, then,” Janus said at once. They touched Remus’s cheek gently, wiping away leftover dampness from their earlier tears. “You didn’t think I’d break up with you?”

“I dunno! I was scared you wouldn’t get it and you’d think I was breaking up with you, mostly. With the timing of it being so close to summer, and the way people talk about polyamory, and all.”

“Oh, darling,” Janus murmured, cradling Remus’s face in their hands.

He reached up to cover their hands with his. “’M gonna be okay in a minute,” he mumbled. “Guess I’m glad I got myself all worked up over nothing. Way better than being right.” They turned their head slightly to press a kiss to one of Janus’s palms. “You never told me you’re polyam.” They spoke without judgement in their voice; simply a neutral, curious tone.

Janus winced anyway. “I haven’t really told anyone.”

Remus tilted his head to the side. “Were you planning to, or?”

“I….” Janus grimaced. “To be quite honest, I think I was planning to never talk about it to anyone, and pretend I wasn’t.”

Remus frowned, concern evident on his face. “Janny, baby, repression isn’t good,” he said, kissing their hand tenderly once more.

Janus sighed. “I know.” They were silent for a moment. “I only ever told one person before. In high school. He—was my boyfriend at the time. And then he broke up with me a week later and told the entire school it was because I’d cheated on him. When I hadn’t. So then I stopped talking about it.”

Remus frowned, tugging Janus somehow even closer, his hands coming up to wrap around them and tangle firmly in their hair. “That’s shitty,” he said firmly.

“It was,” Janus agreed, closing their eyes.

Remus kissed their forehead, lips pressing softly against Janus’s skin. “You’re too cute to ever feel shitty about yourself, okay?”

Janus let out a soft huff of laughter. “Pot, kettle.” A thought occurred to them. “Do I need to harass Roman for you?”

“Huh? Oh.” Remus squirmed, looking uncomfortable. “I dunno. He was—he was trying really hard to be cool about it when I told him, but I could tell he felt really weird about it and was doing a bad job hiding it. But, like. He was trying to hide it. Making an effort to make me feel safe. Even if it didn’t work. So I dunno if I’m mad or not about it.”

Janus pursed their lips. “Let me know,” they said after thinking this over. “I’m happy to make him regret his entire life, if you want.”

Remus snickered. “Cute. Dunno if he has the braincells to feel regret, though.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I can be quite intimidating.”

“…I’ll keep you posted,” Remus decided at last. “I’m kind of hoping he’ll get over it and I can just forget about it, you know?”

“That’s fine,” Janus agreed, although they privately felt that it was not fine at all and that Roman deserved at least a cold shoulder until he got over himself. But it was Remus’s decision and Remus’s brother, and Remus was far more important than Roman.

Remus nodded. “Thanks, baby,” he mumbled. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus responded without thinking.

There was utter silence as the moment sank in. Janus was suddenly very, very aware of every square inch where Remus was pressed against them and their heart beating loud in their chest and Remus drawing in a sharp breath as he realized what he’d said. What they’d both said.

“Oh, wow,” Remus began, sounding incredibly flustered, and Janus cut them off by dragging them into an impulsive, clinging kiss, mouths warm against each other as Remus half-tensed for the barest second before relaxing and enthusiastically kissing them back.

“Gonna be real,” Remus breathed as they parted, “I did not know it was gonna be okay for me to say that.”

Janus nuzzled their nose against Remus’s cheek. “Oh?”

“You get shy about things like that,” Remus said. “Didn’t know how you’d feel about it.”

Janus considered this. “Did you mean it?”

“What? That I love you?”

Janus’s cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

“I meant it so much, baby,” Remus breathed at once. He touched their cheek reverently and wound a strand of their hair about his finger. “I love you lots and lots.”

Janus nodded. “Then I feel good about it.” They closed the bare inch or two of space between their mouth and Remus’s once more, kissing him slowly. “I love you,” they whispered against his lips.

Remus beamed. “Oh, I’m going to tell you I love you so much now,” he said eagerly, surging forward and knocking Janus backwards onto the bed as he peppered their face with kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you and love you and love you and—”

As Janus lay there, pinned beneath Remus and giggling helplessly as they tried to catch his lips with theirs to kiss him again, they found that they had no complaints about the new situation.

***

The first time Janus and Remus both had a crush on the same person, it was a little bit of a disaster, not that either of them could have done anything about it.

They were midway through their senior year of college, and Patton had dropped by the apartment, as he often did, to hang out with Janus and Roman. Roman had left for a class partway through Patton’s visit, and Janus and Patton had wound up impulsively baking cookies together. All of which was fairly normal. What wasn’t normal was that when Patton had helped Janus tie their hair back into a ponytail and told them their hair was lovely, Janus’s stomach had done a very unexpected flip.

And now it had been a week and a half, and they hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Patton’s soft little hands in their hair or how even though his hands felt very different from Remus’s hands they had still felt just as good and—well, this surprise crush was getting a little ridiculous at this point, was the point.

Theoretically, this wasn’t a problem. Janus and Remus had both talked about boundaries a lot over the years, and both knew exactly what they were comfortable with. Remus had actually dated a few other people after they’d established an open relationship, although they had never been people Janus was interested in and most of them had been brief relationships; and besides dating, Remus had hooked up with lots of people for a while. So none of this was new territory, really. And Janus had wanted another partner for a while now, a soft funny wistful longing feeling; there just… hadn’t ever been anybody they really felt interested in to focus that feeling on.

Until now.

“Reem?” Janus asked. They were lying on his bed with their head in his lap; he was sitting cross-legged and playing with their hair with one hand while scrolling through an online reading for a class on his laptop with the other hand.

“Hm, baby?” Remus responded absently.

“I think I have a crush on a guy.”

“Oh my god, really?” Remus looked down, giving them much more of his attention, eyes alight and curious. “Is he cute? Tell me everything.” His other hand joined the first where it was soothingly combing through Janus’s hair.

“Really cute,” Janus said, and, encouraged by Remus’s response, added, “Um, it’s Patton.”

“No fucking way.” Remus’s eyes widened. “Me too.”

Janus blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, uh,” Remus sounded sheepish, “have for a while now.”

“Really?” Janus asked, flummoxed.

“Yeah, uh—remember when you and Roman went out of town for that class, and Pat checked in on me?”

“Oh. Yes.” Janus pressed their lips together.

“Yeah, um, I, uh. I may have not mentioned this before, but I just—and you can’t be mad at me, okay?”

Janus narrowed their eyes. “What did you do?”

“Okay, so, I kind of maybe didn’t sleep for the first… mmm… twenty-eight hours after you left?” Remus grinned sheepishly.

“Oh, my god, what?” Janus half sat up, panic thrumming through their veins. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine. I promise I’m fine!” Remus said quickly. “Please don’t freak out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Janus demanded, distressed.

“So you wouldn’t freak out. Like you’re doing right now. You felt bad enough about having to leave me alone, I didn’t wanna make it worse.” Remus wrinkled his nose. “I tried, but waking up alone was, um, really bad. So then I tried to just not sleep until you got back. It, mmm, didn’t go very well.”

Janus made a distressed noise, clutching Remus’s hand in both their own.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Bad idea.” Remus’s voice took on a slight annoyed bite. “All the options were bad, though.”

Janus winced. “I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Remus drew in a long breath and let it out. “Anyway, Pat came by on the second day, and he was like ‘oh my god are you okay,’ and he took away my monster energy, and then he stuck around while I took a nap on the couch for, like, way too many hours. And he promised not to tell you how bad it was, so you wouldn’t freak out. Which you’re not allowed to get all passive aggressive at him about now that you found out, by the way, since I made him do that.”

Janus huffed. “Fine.” They kissed his knuckles. “I wish you’d told me, though.”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I? But anyway—yeah, uh, I think maybe I’d had some feelings for him before that I hadn’t thought about, but I kind of figured it out after that. I dunno. Something about a cute boy getting all protective and huffy and ordering me to take care of myself and promising he’d keep my nightmares away got to me, I guess.” Remus rolled their eyes, a small grin on their face. “What was it for you?”

Janus’s cheeks warmed. “I—he—” They hid their face in their hands.

“Ooh, now I’m interested,” Remus teased, gently lifting one hand away. “What happened with the pretty boy, baby?”

Janus made a muffled, wordless whining noise. “He helped me fix my hair,” they mumbled after a minute, face hot. “And it—was nice.”

“Oh, that makes so much sense,” Remus said, a grin spreading across their face. “Of course it was the hair for you.”

“Shut up!” Janus hid their face again.

Remus snickered and gently pushed Janus’s hands away from their face once more. “You’re so cute,” he cooed. “I bet you got all pretty and flushed, huh?” He wound their hair around his own fingers and tugged, making Janus stifle a noise of pleasure. “Imagine if he braided it for you,” they said idly, tugging again and guiding Janus’s head up until they could kiss Janus and swallow the nearly involuntary whimper they let out.

The conversation very swiftly turned away from Patton after that, and towards more of the interesting noises Remus could draw from Janus, and then towards further, highly enjoyable, activities of a related nature.

Quite some time later, Remus pressed a protective kiss to Janus’s forehead as they lay on his chest. “Do you think we should talk to him about it?” he asked.

Janus, who was now feeling slightly dazed, rather sleepy, and very happy, took a minute to process the sentence. “What?” they mumbled at last, blinking up at him.

“Patton. About both of us liking him. See if maybe he’d be interested.”

“Oh.” Janus struggled to form a coherent response; they were not particularly helped by the way Remus was running a hand soothingly up and down their back, or playing with their hair with his other hand, but they weren’t exactly complaining about either of these things. “I… maybe. Do you want to?”

“I think so,” Remus said, yawning. “I mean, if you’re down. I think he’d be really fun to date. I like him a lot. And it could be really nice to be in a polycule. What do you think?”

“I… feel nervous about it,” Janus admitted, wrinkling their nose. “But—I would like it, also.”

“Great,” Remus said happily, pressing a kiss to the tip of their nose. “Let’s do it! See if we can snag a cute boyfriend!”

Janus laughed softly. “Fine. Whatever you say, darling. Next time we see him?”

“Hell yeah,” Remus agreed.

But the next week, Patton asked Roman out, and Roman said yes. Remus didn’t speak to his brother for a whole five days.

***

The last day it was just Remus and Janus—not that either of them knew it at the time—was a good day.

It was a very welcome day, to be honest. It had been a stressful few months for everyone—well, everyone except Virgil and Logan and their perpetual practically-married bliss. Not that Janus was bitter or anything over how those two had avoided entangling themselves in this drama. Obviously not.

When, five months ago, Roman had come out as aromantic and he and Patton had broken up, things had been… awkward, to say the least, between the two of them and Remus. Of course, the twins had regained their equilibrium with each other quickly, as they always did; and, more recently, Janus had formed the impression that Roman and Patton seemed at last to be re-settling into the friendship they’d had before dating.

But things between Patton, Remus, and—well, and Janus, too—were another matter entirely. Two months ago, Remus and Janus, after spending several days talking it over, had approached Patton and asked him out. And he had turned them down. Politely, and sweetly, and with a gentle explanation that he was flattered, but he didn’t really feel ready yet for any new relationships. All of which made perfect sense, and none of which had made the rejection hurt any less. And none of which had made things less awkward between the three of them afterward; things had finally been settling down in their friend group after the breakup, and this had only gone and stirred the pot up again. Janus half felt it had been a mistake to ask Patton out at all.

And to make things more complicated—because that was just what they needed—at no point had Patton said he explicitly wasn’t interested in either of them, or that he wasn’t polyamorous, or any of the reasons Janus had been actually afraid he’d reject the pair of them for. (Janus and Remus had decided, after going over it several times, that they both liked Patton too much to feel comfortable with only one of them dating him, should he be interested in just one, and they had made this clear in their discussion with Patton. As Remus had put it, they were “a package deal, two boyfriends for the price of one.”) Which meant that Janus couldn’t help wondering if there was still some glimmer of a chance left. During the last week, they had definitely caught Patton sending several long, thoughtful looks in Remus’s direction when Remus wasn’t looking, and caught him looking away very quickly when they looked at him.

But Janus wasn’t quite sure what to make of any of it; wasn’t sure if they were reading too much into things and looking for what they wanted to see, or not. It gave them a headache to think about, and put them in a dreadful mood; they hated it when they couldn’t understand people’s motives.

But the last day it was just Janus and Remus was far less stressful than the average day Janus had been having that week. It was, in fact, a very good day. The loveliest kind of day.

On the way home from work, Janus’s phone went off, playing Remus’s ringtone. One of the perks of having wealthy parents who did not understand them in the slightest and felt guilty about it was that they plied Janus with extravagant gifts, clearly meant to substitute for the lack of emotional connection, and so Janus’s car was a very nice one, one which could connect to their phone; Janus hit the button on the dashboard to pick up the call without taking their eyes off the road.

“Hi baby!” Remus greeted cheerfully. “Are you done for the day?”

“I’m on my way home right now,” Janus confirmed.

“Any plans?”

“Not really, why?”

“Virgil came over and so there are three entire cis men in my apartment and I think I will explode if I don’t get out of here. Also he and Logan are being gooshy and it’s making me competitive. Wanna get ice cream?”

Janus chuckled. “I see. I’m not opposed.”

“Hang on just onnnnne second, baby.” Remus raised his voice. “Logan, you gay piece of shit, you kissed Virgil’s hand five times in the last two minutes, that absolutely is gooshy.” His tone softened into a delightfully syrupy tone that Janus knew was at least half to annoy whoever was in the room with him on the other end. “Sorry, Janny. Yeah? Ice cream date? Great! Wanna pick me up? And can I maybe make a cute TikTok about it to one-up Lo and Virge?”

Janus put a hand to their mouth to stifle a grin, even though they were alone in their car where no one could see. “I think you could talk me into it. See you soon?”

“Yes!” Remus cheered as Janus hung up the call and changed lanes, rerouting their destination from their own apartment to Remus’s.

When they pulled up outside the building, Remus was already outside, sitting on the edge of the base of the lamppost and playing something on their phone. They brightened as soon as they saw Janus’s car and hurried over, hopping into the passenger seat and kissing Janus on the cheek. “Hi, Janny!”

“Hello, darling,” Janus greeted, pulling away from the curb as Remus buckled themself in. “The gelato place?”

“Hell yeah,” Remus agreed, pulling out his phone once more. “Is it okay to put your face in the video, or not today?”

Janus considered this question. Remus had a decently large following on TikTok, and while it was sometimes fun to make a guest appearance on his profile, Janus’s comfort levels with the scrutiny of such a large audience varied. “Not my face today, but my hands are fine.”

“You got it, cutie.” Remus caught one of the hands in question and lifted it to his lips before Janus reclaimed it to its place on the steering wheel.

“Isn’t that the same thing you were just roasting Logan for?” Janus inquired, not bothering to hide their amusement.

“Yeah, but see, the difference is that I’m cooler than Logan, so it’s automatically good when I do it.”

Janus snickered. “Fair enough.”

“Mmkay, I’m going to film you driving for the TikTok now, okay?” Remus angled his phone towards the steering wheel, leaving Janus’s face out of the frame as requested.

“It is important that the youth see safe driving practices in action,” Janus said very seriously, both hands resting lightly on the steering wheel.

Remus snickered. “A rare Gay That Can Drive, observed in the wild.”

Janus’s lips quirked. “Indeed.”

The gelato place they both liked so much wasn’t very far away; before long, the pair of them were standing in line, hands clasped between them, Remus’s head resting on Janus’s shoulder as he filmed a shot panning over the flavors of the day.

“What are you getting?” Janus asked, kissing Remus’s temple.

“Mm, something spicy if they have it. Or chocolatey. I dunno, I haven’t actually read any of the signs yet.” Remus snickered. “I should probably do that.”

Janus laughed softly. “That might be a good idea, yes.”

“What about you?” Remus asked.

Janus, who had read every flavor on the list three times already even though there were only three flavors they ever actually ordered, shrugged. “Probably the rum raisin. They have that one you like with cayenne in it today.”

“Ooh, goody!” Remus did a little wiggle of excitement, and Janus laughed and leaned down to kiss him as the line moved forward.

Tomorrow, Patton would approach Remus and ask if the offer he and Janus had made still stood. Tomorrow, Janus and Remus would become Janus and Remus and Patton. Tomorrow would be full of emotions and conversations and new boundaries and new kisses and everything would be different but it would also in so many ways be delightfully the same.

But today, Janus only let go of Remus’s hand long enough to pay at the register. Today, they sat at a tiny round table just outside the door in the bright sunshine, little paper cups of gelato in hand. Today, Janus absolutely lost it, dissolving into helpless giggles, when Remus told them a cheesy pickup line just to see them smile. Today, Janus adjusted their jewelry and watched as Remus filmed the gelato on the table and their clasped hands beside it, and then filmed themself, leaning up out of the frame to kiss Janus first on the cheek and then sweetly on the mouth. Today, Janus watched Remus text a screenshot of the tiktok to Logan, five minutes after posting it.

Remus: 200 views already BITCH How does it feel to know we r a cuter couple than u and emo 😝

Logan: Social media views are not a measure of relationship quality, which I know you are fully aware of. Additionally, “cute” is a subjective term, and all parties in this conversation are biased. Ergo, this argument you insist on perpetuating can have no resolution and will only go around in circles. I would recommend you cease your futile attempts to convince me of your point of view. You will not succeed. also FUCK YOU SM how the FUCK do you always get so many views what sacrifices did u make to the algorithm gods omfg -v lmao logan is mad that i wont capitalize my texts while using his phone -v

Remus: Lmao nice

Remus turned off the phone and tucked it away in their pocket, turning their attention back to Janus. “How’s the gelato?”

“Good,” Janus said, delicately placing another spoonful in his mouth.

Remus grinned. “Can I have a taste?”

Janus stifled a smile and nodded; Remus leaned up to kiss him, licking eagerly into Janus’s mouth for a kiss that tasted of rum raisin and, very faintly, cayenne. Remus cradled the back of Janus’s neck in their hands. “You’re my favorite,” he hummed happily.

Janus closed their eyes and grinned. “You’re my favorite, too.”

Tomorrow would be new, but today? Today Janus had Remus and knew they always would, and today was good.

--

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld @thepenandcoffee @peruviandesertfox 

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #dukeceit #dukeceitweek #dukeceit week #romantic dukeceit #intrualiceit #janus sanders #ts janus #remus sanders #ts remus #patton sanders #ts patton #demus #romantic demus #nonbinary janus #nonbinary remus #autistic janus #adhd remus #ts fic #ts fanfic #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #peregrin's starlight universe #language #innuendo #alcohol mention

[patton-cake]

No thoughts- head gay

@katlikethesword Happy birthday Kat!! @irritating-lady-knight and I wrote this as your birthday present!!! We hope you enjoy it! We love you so much Kitty Kat! You're just always so precious and kind and I could go on forever. You're amazing Kat! Take all our love and affection

Pairing: prinxiety

Summary: Roman is precious and Virgil definitely isn't simping, no that would be ridiculous he would never simp for his roommate

"Ro? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class? Don't tell me that you're skipping your silly theater thing for me"

Virgil gently hit Roman's arm and started walking next to him. Their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

"Pff don't flatter yourself too much finding emo. Class got cancelled, some dude tried to recreate the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. He broke 3 ribs."

Roman let out a muffled laugh and handed his friend some oreos

"Want one? I was bored so decided to stop for a snack"

"Thanks princey, you always know how to find your way into my heart"

Virgil rolled his eyes but softly smiled as he accepted the food. They ate in comfortable silence and made their way out of the school building.

"Uh Virge? You don't happen to have an umbrella do you?"

He looked up from his phone and saw the rain falling down from the sky

"What's the matter prince charming? Afraid of water? Afraid that it might ruin your hair?"

Roman glared at him before shoving Virgil outside.

"Go on sunshine, let's see how long your makeup will last in the rain"

"How mature of you Ro, afraid to go first? Well come on then! Go follow mother duck. I will protect you my little duckling"

Virgil pulled Roman into the rain and started to walk very proudly, arms linked with Roman.

"Okay, if this is how you want to play this V, then you need to carry me on your back. This poor little duckling needs to be carried!"

Roman pouted and dramatically leaned his full weight against Virgil, who started at him with an annoyed face. But unfortunately for himself, Virgil was way to competitive to give up now.

"Bring it on ugly duckling"

"Auch that one hurts V, that one hurts"

And that's how Virgil ended up giving Roman a piggyback ride all the way to their apartment. When they finally arrived, they both were completely soaked.

"Thank you my noble horse for carrying me to my palace!"

"I thought I was mama duck?"

Roman laughed and opened the door to their apartment

"Nah a horse suits you better"

Virgil rolled his eyes and dropped his backpack on their apartment floor.

"Whatever makes you happy Romano, I'm gonna shower, please don't burn the house down."

Roman sputtered out a complaining noice as Virgil walked up stairs

"THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME"

After Virgil was down showering, he walked downstairs and put on a movie. He heard Roman serenading himself under the shower and chuckled softly. When he finally heard Roman's footsteps, he looked up and his heart stopped for a second

"Is that my hoodie?"

A soft red blush spread over both of their cheeks

"Uh- yeay- I was really cold a-and your hoodies always look so soft and warm, but I can put it back if you want me to!"

"Keep it"

Roman awkwardly sat down next to him

"You want me to keep it? Are you sure?"

Virgil looked at him with a soft look in his eyes,

"Yeay, it looks better on you anyway"

He didn't think that Roman's face could turn more red, it almost matched his annoyingly adorable sweater that he was wearing. No Virgil, no more gay thoughts for today, he had already reached his limits. He just had to focus on the movie they were watching.

"Wait a minute, are you complementing me Virge? Awww you don't hate me!"

Virgil almost believed Roman's confident voice if it wasn't for the blush that still burned bright red on his cheeks

"I take it back, you're the worst"

After this, it didn’t take very long for the two of them to fall back in their familiar rhythm, Virgil grumbling about plot holes, Roman criticizing the choices of the main characters- both jostling each other while fighting to eat as much popcorn as possible before the other could take ‘more than their fair share’. Slowly their comments and arguments and movement died off, though, and they truly became invested in the plot.

After two and a half movies, a sunset, a frantic call from Logan, and 4 cups of cocoa, Virgil had settled into his corner of the couch, warmth pooled in his belly and a blanket pulled to his chin. Roman had decided that it was too much work to actually get up and put on socks, so he’d tucked his ice cold feet under Virgil’s thighs and flopped dramatically across the rest of the couch, mumbling about Virgil’s abundant heat that he insisted on taking advantage of. Selfish fucker. Virgil didn’t know why he continued to deal with him. Most certainly not because he’d grown fond of him, god forbid. Motherfucker. Getting attached

. This is why he didn’t want a roommate freshman year. But as he watched Roman mouthing lines right alongside Jack, he was unable to smother a fond smile, shaking his head in disgust at himself.

“V.”

He grunted in response, looking up from his thoughts to see Roman standing in front of him, Sally frozen on screen. “Mug.”

Virgil pressed his mug into Roman’s hands and nudged his shin with a gentle foot in thanks, shifting to turtle further into his nest of blankets. A few minutes later Roman returned, mugs filled to the brim with steamy cocoa, Roman’s piled high with marshmallows and whipped cream.

“Move over.” Roman demanded, sitting down right beside him, their thighs pressed together. Virgil was wide awake.

“I- move? I’m pressed up against the side, dipshit. There is nowhere else for me to move!” Virgil pushed at him gently, but Roman only made a soft noise in response, carefully putting his mug in Virgil’s hands, the latter spluttering in offense. “The f-” He cut himself off with a grunt of surprise as his roommate flopped against him, pressing his cheek flat against Virgil’s arm.

“My dude???” Virgil squirmed until Roman sighed dramatically and shifted again, until Virgil was sitting up, two mugs balanced precariously in his hands, and Roman was pressed up against his side, feet once again tucked beneath his roommate’s thighs.

“I’m staying here, don’t complain or I’m spilling your cocoa on you. You are a human heater and I am visibly shivering, don’t be selfish and share.” Roman stated firmly, snuggling back against Virgil’s shoulder before pressing play.

Virgil.exe has stopped working. Press any button on your keyboard to restart.

Roman smelled like lemon and sandalwood. Virgil didn’t know what sandalwood was, but Roman smelled like it. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and it was soft and gentle against Virgil’s neck. He was lying when he said that he was cold, he was a nice sort of warm that Virgil melted into on contact, and couldn’t convince himself to move away from. Not that he wanted to. Except he did. He was no simp. He refused. Patton was a simp. Virgil was no simp. Absolutely not.

Except..

No.

Virgil. No.

Stop.

If you-

But he did.

Virgil quietly scolded himself and shook his head. It was time to focus on the movie, he shouldn't think about Roman or Roman's stupidly perfect face. No. He wouldn't think of that.

He almost found himself focusing back on the movie, but of course, Roman had to make it more difficult. Virgil felt a soft breath in his neck and saw that his friend had closed his eyes, his chest moving in a steady rhythm. He looked absolutely perfect. Okay, Virgil allowed that one gay thought, it was simply a fact and Logan had always told him that you can't argue with facts.

The movie. Virgil had to focus on the movie. He just had pretend that Roman was not there! That his hair didn't tickle Virgil's face. That shouldn't be that difficult right?

"..V..?"

Shit

Roman's voice was soft and Virgil lost his mind again

"Yeay Ro?"

His voice didn't squeak, it didn't . Virgil fought against his urges to kiss Roman's perfectly soft lips and to keep him here forever, laying on their couch. That sounded perfect to Virgil.

"Did you know that you're really hot Virge?"

The urges kept getting stronger and Virgil swallowed, trying not to squeak again

"Another heating pad joke? You're repeating yourself Ro"

"I didn't mean it in that way"

And with that he placed a soft kiss on Virgil's cheek before laying back down, closing his eyes again.

From that moment on Virgil was certain of two things.

One: He failed his gay thoughts rule

And two: He would risk absolutely everything for his roommate.

#prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #roman x virgil #virgil x roman #romantic prinxiety #pattoncake writes #gabi (attempts) to write #Collab with Gabi!! :D #I'm so excited for this one #gabi tag #kat tag #HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAT #virgils a simp #they cuddle #roman is precious #little smooch

[lisinfleur]

Fyrir Ást

Author’s Notes | I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you reaching this mark! May the gods keep blessing you with this incredible talent and allowing us to bask in your stories! Congratulations one more time! Universe | Vikings Pairing | No pair Info | Viking Age AU, Fixing Plot AU, produced for @waiting4inspiration​’s 9k Multiple of 3 Challenge | Prompt nº 12 | “Fyrir ást” means “For Love” in Icelandic Words | 1266 ⁑ Warnings: ANGST, mentions of blood, wounds and pain. Some cursing.

The candles of your house were creating a middle light that enlightened the icy blue of his worried eyes over his feverish older brother on your bed. Two sons of Ragnar Loðbrók in your cabin - Thank the Gods you decided to keep yourself away from the center of the town or your place would certainly become a center of visitation for the next days. Thank the gods as well you had known Hvitserk at the time of their invasion to York, learned of their gods, and converted through your conversations with him at that time, when he was lost and sad by his older brother's departure, searching for his way he, sometimes, found into your arms. After he left, you thought you would never see Hvitserk Ragnarsson once again. But there he was, lying unconscious on your bed with his forehead covered in sweat and that infected wound on his chest, uncared by his own stupidity.

Or maybe by his unconditional love for his little brother so full of concern by his side now. Who would say Ivar the Boneless would grow into a man so fond of his brother like that? The same man that used to mock Hvitserk's dedication and loyalty was now there, suffering for what his brother had just done.

For him...

"How's your leg, Ivar?" you asked, probably breaking his line of thoughts since he looked at you surprised by your very existence by his side.

He was so out of himself...

"It's not important, woman. Hvitserk... When will he wake up?" he asked again.

The fiftieth time he was asking the same question.

"As I said the last forty-nine times, Ivar. He'll wake up when I manage to lower his temperature."

"Then do it!" he charged, causing you to sigh.

Still the same spoiled commander. But with way better reasons to be like that.

"Calm down, Ragnarsson. Your brother won't die," you granted, touching his shoulder.

"Why did he do this? Fuck, Hvitserk! Why did you do this, you idiot!" he cursed.

And you could bet he was holding back some tears behind those stupidly blue eyes.

Ivar's disease was way triggered. His eyes' whites were almost completely blue and you knew that broken leg wasn't unnatural in spite of the inhuman form it was twisted when they arrived.

If you had understood it right from what Ivar told you, they were in a battle against king Alfred closer to the Royal Villa when that happened. His body was weak, but Ivar insisted on advancing with the incursion because they had the advantage from the terrain. Hvitserk had warned him, but it wasn't enough for Ivar to listen and one of his legs couldn't handle his weight not even with the help of his braces. It broke into pieces throwing Ivar on the ground with a loud scream of terrible pain, leaving him at the mercy of the Saxons beside him, one of them ready to sink his sword through Ivar's chest and cease their major reason to fear the Norsemen's threats.

A strike that never came. Hvitserk came like a wild wolf, attacking the Saxons and protecting his fallen brother with fierceness Ivar said he'd never seen before. At the moment, in awe, Ivar said he wasn't able to see when his brother was wounded by a Saxon blade, but Hvitserk was quick in denying there was any kind of problem with him.

"I'm fine, he said. Hold on tight," Ivar narrated, telling you how his brother proceeded to carry him out of the battlefield on his own back, hiding in the woods to avoid being persecuted, walking away from the battle spot where his army was being defeated. "We fled like dogs," Ivar grunted, but as he said, at the end of the day, Hvitserk had a campfire placed, his leg tied to an improvised immobilizer his brother did out of his broken braces' pieces and two fat fishes Hvitserk had fished for them to eat.

"Hvitserk forced me to sleep," you remember him telling you. He prioritized his little brother over his own needs. And he carried Ivar all the way towards York. All the way towards your house where he knew you could care for his brother's wound.

"All the way through, always telling me nothing was wrong with his little grunts, nothing was wrong with his paleness. I'm tired, Ivar. You're heavy. Shut up, Ivar. Go to sleep. This bastard! Stupid moron! He was lying to me!"

Hvitserk knew he couldn't stop to care for his own wound. He didn't have the proper materials and the herbs he found were all for his brother's pain. Hvitserk knew if he had told Ivar he was wounded, his little brother wouldn't allow him to carry him through all the way, and without his crutch Ivar had lost at the battlefield, they would've never arrived at your home on time for Hvitserk's wound to still be treatable.

When they arrived at your door, Hvitserk was barely standing with his brother on his back and as soon as he had Ivar properly sat on a chair, safe from any damage, he fell on your ground, lying flat and feverish, unconscious but sure you would fulfill his last ask before fainting.

"Take care of Ivar... I know you know how."

You were a Saxon nurse before knowing his people. You had learned from his healers and became one yourself. Hvitserk had fought that whole way to bring his little brother into the safety of experienced hands that could help him with his condition. You knew why Hvitserk had done that.

You knew why he had lied more and more about his own wound, pretending nothing was wrong until his last strength.

You approached the laid prince, exchanging the cloth on his forehead for a new one with fresh water to lower his temperature, listening as Hvitserk grunted low, going back into his deep sleep. The wound - a cut in his chest - was now bandaged after you had scraped the dead flesh, got rid of the infected tissue, and covered it with an herbal paste that finished the smell of burned rotten flesh from the elder prince's body. Your fingers caressed the prince's loose hair, sighing.

Answering without looking at Ivar's face, maybe to give him space for the tears you knew he wasn't able to control and keep from falling.

"He did it out of love, Ivar," you said. "He did it because he loves you. Because he could stand all this pain, but he couldn't stand the idea of losing you or leaving you behind."

"He's stupid!" Ivar grunted.

The obvious knot in his throat hidden behind the hoarse voice.

"What would I do if he died, uh? What would I do without him?"

The angry voice of the younger prince became meeker. And you knew there wasn't any anger in those sentences at all.

"What would I do without you, brother?"

You held your smile into a slight curve. Hvitserk who had so long mourned his older brother's love on your shoulders, thinking he had abandoned the only one who had ever loved him; who would ever do it.

"What would I do without you?"

Hvitserk found love. And you were glad, somehow, to see he wasn't alone like he thought he would always be.

"You'll be fine, son of Ragnar," you got up, daring to caress Ivar's worried expression like once you dared to touch his older brother's crying face. "Both of you will."

You would care for them. And they would be alright.

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[jalapeno-princess]

Clandestine Meetings and Stolen Stares

Physics Professor Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 9.9K (Damn it felt longer haha)

Genre: Angst, smut

Warnings: Rated 18+, unprotected sex, breast play, (nothing too explicit), cheating

Summary: It was your junior year in college and you couldn’t wait for it to be over with. You wanted nothing more than to graduate and get out of the hell hole that is college. All you really cared about was your education, your job, your friends and your family. However, that all changes the minute your eyes land on your indescribably handsome physics professor and what you thought was just a unreciprocated crush on the older man, turned in to more; so much more. (Sorry guys I don’t want to go too deep in the summary and give away the entire story so I’ll keep it at that)

A/N: Hey guys! Look at me claiming I won’t have time to write stories and throwing another one out there like nothing. This is apart of the song requests imagines and I do have quite a few of them so I will try get them out as soon as possible (I don’t want them to be too short or rushed so please be patient me and thank you again for your requests!) This was requested by one of my favorite followers @yup-indecisive-girl-cece​ thank you for all your love and support with my page and my stories! I hope you enjoy! (I wrote this in a few hours so there might be a few errors but eh whatever hahaha) Based on the song “Ilicit Affairs”. Honestly the album is a bop and I listened to it while writing this I actually plan on writing a few stories in the future about some of the songs off the album once I finish the requests. Happy reading!

“Y/n—earth to y/n. Hey! Is everything okay?” 

If you could describe the current state of your mind, a mess wasn’t even half of what was going on up there. There were many different thoughts going on in your head; unfortunately they were all negative. You wouldn’t have even known you were tearing up if your best friend Yugyeom didn’t wave his hand in front of your face to break you out of your trance. 

“Huh? Oh—yeah. I’m fine. It’s just—I’m just tired I guess. Finals are coming up and I’ve been pulling all-nighters almost every night so I’m pretty exhausted. But don’t worry about me. I’m okay.” 

As much as you hated lying to the older boy, especially because he told you about every single thing that went on in his life, there was no way you could tell him the real reason why you were so distracted; why you were on the verge of breaking down in tears. He would never understand nor did you think he would want to continue your friendship if he were to know exactly what was clouding your thoughts. 

Thankfully he didn’t continue to press for more questions and turned his focus back to the chocolate shake you purchased for him half an hour ago. If you were going to tell anyone what was causing you so much distress, you’d be in so much trouble and so would he. Feeling your phone vibrate against your lap made your breathe hitch because you knew exactly who it was. 

The only two people who have been reaching out to you these days other than your parents to see how college overseas was going, was the outspoken yet gentle and child-like boy sitting in front of you and your physics professor Mark Tuan. He was the reason why you’ve been so uptight; so tense these last few days and unlike most of your classmates, you weren’t even nervous about any of your finals because most of your worries were caused by him. 

When you signed up for Physics 345 with Professor Mark Tuan, you didn’t think anything of it. Since it was your junior year in college, all you were focused on was passing junior year with flying colors and concentrating on your last two semesters in college, working on your senior thesis and graduating on time. What you weren’t expecting, was getting in to an affair with said professor that would go on for longer than expected. 

Everything going on in your life up until the point of meeting Mark for the first time was going pretty well. You and your friends were enjoying what was left of being college students; going clubbing on the weekends, having some drinks at the bar when school was getting rough, attending parties thrown by some of the most popular students in school and just hanging out at each other’s places when you all had free time. 

You had a part time job at the library which you were extremely grateful for; you hardly had to do anything, it was always pretty quiet and you got to work on your assignments most of the time so it was a win-win situation. Although you missed your family every now and then, you had quite a bit on your plate to really feel homesick. Little did you know, that word would have a different meaning to it a few months later. Walking in to the auditorium, you weren’t surprised to see that you didn’t know anybody in your class. 

Your campus was huge and from what you knew, none of your friends had any plans on failing a class so they all laughed in your face when you recommended it to them. If only you took Youngjae’s advice and signed up for Religion 315 like he did, you wouldn’t be in the mess you were in right now. But then again, you wouldn’t have met the man who changed your outlook on both life and love completely. You wouldn’t have met the man who now owned your stupid, stupid heart. 

Since you were notorious for making it to class earlier than most students in order to get a good seat, you decided to play a few games on your phone before scrolling through social media. After getting bored on twitter, you pulled out one of your notebooks and started to prepare your notes when you heard heels clicking against the tiled floor. 

You were never a believer in love at first sight. It was so cliche. How could someone be in love with someone just by looking at them and not knowing anything about them? There was no way and yet, when you took a look at your new science professor, you could physically feel your soul leaving your body. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it. In fact, that was an understatement. 

He was gorgeous. You didn’t think young science professors existed let alone one that looked like he came straight out of vogue magazine. All your science teachers from high school had white hair, glasses and wore suspenders. This guy was wearing a red flannel over a plain black v-neck, torn skinny jeans and vans. There was no way he was your professor; but as soon as he placed his briefcase down on the desk and looked around the classroom with a stupidly handsome grin on his face, you knew you were fucked. 

“Hello class, I’m Mark Tuan your physics professor. Please call me Mark. I’m fine with professor, but no Mr.Tuan. It makes me feel old. A little bit about me, this is my second year teaching physics. I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in physics, went on and got my master’s in teaching and graduated with my doctorate two years ago now here I am. I’m one of those weirdos who love science, I love learning more and more about science each and every day. I’m thirty-one years old, I’ve been married for three amazing years and I have a one-year-old daughter named Ella. We also have a dog named Milo. In my free time, I like to play video games and watch the office. Well, that’s it about me. There’s about forty-five of you in here, so it would probably take the entire class if you guys were to introduce yourselves individually so instead I’ll have you get in to groups and you guys can just  talk amongst your peers.”

It was as if everything he said went through one ear and out the other. All you could pay attention to was his pretty pink lips and how soft they looked. You could also feel your heart flutter at the way he smiled when talking about his passion for science. However, hearing that he had a wife and a daughter brought a weird feeling to your chest but what did it matter? He was your science professor and this was only the first day you met him. You told yourself it was just his good looks that you were attracted to, but deep down you knew there was something else that got you thinking about him a little more than you should. 

As your classmates went around in a circle talking about what major they were studying, why they signed up for physics and what they want to learn in the class, your eyes began to wander around the room in search of your professor and you hated that you didn’t know why. You’ve seen and even been with a decent amount of good looking guys. Your ex-boyfriend was actually considered to be one of the best looking guys in your university, so you had a hard time understanding why you couldn’t take your eyes off of Mark. As soon as you found him, you felt as if your heart was about to jump from out of your chest when you realized he was already looking at you. 

You were sure if you were to look in a mirror, your face would be red from embarrassment. Was he watching you this entire time? Did he know you were practically ogling at him this entire time when you were supposed to be paying attention to your classmates? To both your delight and dismay, he sent you a flirtatious wink before making his way to your group. You felt like you were about to be sick. Feeling him stand behind you while placing his hands on the chair sent chills down your spine. 

Why was he so close? And why did you want him closer? When he was talking to other groups, he stood a few inches away from them but right now he was in your personal space and you couldn’t help the thought of wanting him even closer. 

“How are we doing here?” Your classmates hummed in content before they started going around and telling him their answers. “Okay, what about you? What’s your name, major, why you took this class and what you want to learn in this class.” 

He pulled his hands away from your chair and walked towards the other side of the room to give you eye contact and offer you his full attention. You didn’t know what was worse; him standing directly behind you giving off his intimidating aura, or him looking at you while you were for sure about to make a fool out of yourself. To prevent yourself from looking like an idiot even more than you probably already did, you brought your attention to your notebook and pretended as if you were reading off from your notes. 

“My name is y/n, I’m an English and communications double major with a minor in Spanish language. I—uh—I’m—shit I’m sorry what were the rest of the questions again?” 

He looked at you in curiosity before letting out a soft giggle. This man was thirty-one years old, how was he capable of such an adorable, high pitched laugh? And how could you butcher that entire thing? You only needed to answer three questions with two of them relating to one another. You were sure you made your attraction even more obvious if he couldn’t already tell by the way you were practically drooling over him. 

“What made you sign up for this class and what do you want to learn?” 

You softly bit your lip out of frustration and took in a deep breath before responding. Once class was over, you were going straight to the bar and getting drunk. This was only day one, you had five months with Mark as your professor and you fucked it up in less than half an hour. He was probably going to go home and laugh at your little breakdown. 

Although you had a feeling you weren’t the first to get flustered over him. If he’s been teaching for over two years, he had to have a few students that developed a crush on him. Surely you weren’t the only one. But that’s what it was and all it ever was going to be, a silly little crush. It was normal; Mark was handsome, he seemed very intelligent, very passionate about his field and was very energetic. He also seemed very child like and with the way he laughed at something you didn’t think was funny, you knew he was still a child at heart. 

“I enjoy science, I think it’s one of those intimidating subjects that people are afraid to take because they’re afraid of failing. I will admit I’m not the best in science and I’m sure I’ll probably be shit at physics, but I love learning and I’ll do my best in this class. Or at least try to. I want to learn more about motion, movement and the relative entities of energy and force.” 

The soft smile he gave you went straight to your chest; there was no way you’d be able to survive the rest of the semester if he were to continue looking at you like that. His wife was one lucky woman. What world war did she fight in her past life to land him as a husband? 

“I like that answer y/n. I look forward to working with you this semester. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot about force and energy in this class and if you don’t end up doing too well, I listed my office hours on the syllabus. Feel free to stop by if and when you need help—and I mean this to all of you. Don’t be shy to ask me for help, I would rather spend a few grueling hours teaching you about Newton’s law than to have you fail my class entirely. Okay, for the remainder of class, I’ll be going over the syllabus and luckily the school provides the required textbook so you can all save an extra $200. I expect you all to use that wisely.” 

There was a feeling in your gut telling you he meant more than what he was saying about his office hours, but then again you felt stupid for even thinking that. He was married for three years and he had a daughter. He was also ten years your senior and you didn’t think you were all that special for someone like Mark to look at you in that way. 

He was your science professor and that’s all he was ever going to be to you. You knew exactly what you were going to do with that extra $200 once you were finished with school. Once class was over, you hastily packed away your things before making a beeline towards the door. Right as you were about to walk out, you heard Mark softly whisper your name. 

“Have a nice rest of your day y/n, see you Thursday!” 

Yeah, you were definitely getting plastered tonight. You didn’t even get to take five steps out of the classroom when you felt an arm roughly thrown around your shoulder. 

“There‘s my favorite science nerd. How was the first day of hell huh? Only two semesters left.” You let out a hysterical chuckle; as much as you hated school and couldn’t wait to graduate, you weren’t quite ready to enter the real world just yet. However, feeling the effect that Mark had on you knowing that it was only the first day toyed with your mind a little bit. You kept telling yourself over and over that he was just being nice, but you didn’t hear him saying anything else to any of the other students. 

Was he just picking on you specifically because of your little breakdown in his class? Your chances of passing physics with a grade higher than a C were already  pretty slim, what more now that you had a Greek God as your professor? You were doomed. The first couple of weeks went by better than you had expected. Sure, there was some material that you had a hard time learning but you refused to schedule office hours with Mark. Being in a class with him surrounded by thirty other students was already extremely overwhelming, you didn’t even want to know what were to happen if you were alone with him. You’d probably have to drop off the face of the earth from embarrassing yourself tremendously. 

A month later, you found yourself between a rock and a hard place. Physics only became more and more tough as the days went by and you cursed Mark for giving you so many difficult assignments. It’s as if he was taunting you. You did what you could first before you even thought about signing up to meet with him. Going to see Mark during his office hours was your last resort. First you reached out to a couple of your classmates; asking for them to explain the material to you but nothing worked. 

They were all very kind in trying to help you, but you still couldn’t memorize nor understand the seven branches of physics. Then you went along with BamBam’s suggestion to go get tutored but just like your classmates, the tutor couldn’t even help you which is why you found yourself emailing Mark to schedule an appointment with him. His response made your eyes roll, but it also sent warmth to your heart and you hated yourself for not being able to learn it on your own from the few sources you had around you. On one of your days off, you made your way up to Mark’s office and gently knocked on the door; patiently waiting until he welcomed you in. 

“Come inside.” 

You hesitantly walked in and sat down on one of the chairs he had facing adjacent toward his desk. You began to look around the room and smiled to yourself at how much his office matched him as a person. It was simple, yet the few trinkets and bobble heads he had on the shelf made the room a little more lively. 

“Took you a while to meet with me. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your grades for a while now, so I’m glad you actually came in for help. Your test scores aren’t looking too good y/n.” 

You released a long sigh; disappointed with the news but not surprised. Why did you think you were capable of such a complicated subject? Even some of the smartest students on your campus had a hard time with physics and you wouldn’t consider yourself dumb, but then again you weren’t the brightest bulb in the bunch. 

“I know. I’m sorry, I should’ve came earlier. I just—I didn’t want to bother you. I tried asking for help from tutors and other students in the class but nothing worked, so here I am.” 

He gazed at you with an unidentifiable look on his face and it made you nervous. You didn’t know exactly what it could have meant and the curiosity was eating away at you. 

“You know y/n, I commend you on taking this class. I know you took it as an elective and I’m sorry it’s probably not what you expected it to be. I’ve been told I can go a little hard on students sometimes, but I’ve been trying to make the work a little more easier than it was last semester. I couldn’t help but take notice though, you do amazing when it comes to the homework. You ace the lessons like nothing, it’s just the quizzes and the exams you’re not doing too great with and it’s probably because you take it in class, with me in the room.” 

Your eyes widened at his last few words but he gave you no time to ask what was on your tongue as he got up from his chair and sat directly in front of you on his table. 

“Am I a distraction y/n? Don’t think I haven’t observed the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. It’s actually cute by the way—sexier when you bite your lip though. I guess this is the time to admit that I do the exact same thing, although I’m more discreet about it than you are. I love knowing the effect I have on you; if only you knew the effect you have on me princess.” 

Were you dreaming? You had to be, there was no way this was actually going on right now. There was no way Mark confronted you about drooling over him in class only to tell you that he’s been doing the exact same thing. What was going on? Was he messing with you? He had to be. Mark Tuan couldn’t have feelings for you—he had a family. And you—you were just a junior in college. His student to be exact; he had to be pulling your leg. 

Yet the way he was looking at you, so seductively with a charismatic glint in his eye sent warmth to your core. The way he was looking at you as if he was a lion and you were his prey, ready to pounce on you did wonders to your body. You couldn’t describe the way Mark made you feel. The way he made you want to do better, the way you wanted to impress him and be someone he admired. The way you wanted to be the reason behind his contagious laughter and breathtaking smile. 

There weren’t enough words to describe what Mark made you feel and when you felt his fingers grip your chin and tilt it upwards so that the two of you made eye contact, you were putty in his hands. As wrong is this all was, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. 

“What are you doing to me y/n? I have a family whom I love dearly, but I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve been on my mind every single day since the first day of school. I don’t know what is about you—well it’s obvious that you’re beautiful. Extremely beautiful y/n. But I’ve seen hundreds of beautiful women in my thirty-one years of living and I’ve never batted an eye at any of them. You were so flustered, so adorably clumsy on the first day but it was the eagerness, the enthusiasm you had in wanting to learn even if you may not be the best in science. You remind me a lot like myself when I was your age. You’re one of the most hard working and extremely intelligent students that I know. I—fuck. I’m aware that a few of my students have crushes on me in the last two years and I found it cute but that was it. They didn’t make me question the love I have for my wife and the status of my marriage the way you do. I really shouldn’t be saying things like this before knowing how you feel but I can’t help it. I like you y/n. I really like you and I know it’s wrong for so many reasons and please don’t feel like you have to reciprocate these feelings, please just don’t say anything.” 

Your mouth was dry and didn’t know how to respond to his entire confession. It was still taking you a while to process the entire thing. Not once in your life would you have ever pictured yourself in a situation like this. No, things like this only happened in movies. To both of your surprises, you found yourself smashing your mouth against his, silencing any doubts that he had about your feelings for him. His lips were soft and gentle against yours, but the grip he now had on your hips was rough and intoxicating. It was hard to believe that for the last month, you’ve been dreaming about how his pretty lips would feel against yours not knowing that here you would be a year later, lying flat on your back on top of his desk while he left multiple kisses along your neck and chest. 

“I—like you too—a lot—and if this is wrong—well fuck Mark I don’t want to be right.” 

It was true; you knew having an affair with your professor was taboo and you knew what you were doing was terribly wrong, but you were just going to have to deal with the consequences later. Now, you were going to show the beautiful man in front of you just how crazy he’s been driving you over the last month. He smiled against the inside of your thigh and made his way up to your soaking entrance, blowing some hot air against your core before flicking at your clit with his tongue. 

“Well, I’ll be your dirty little secret and you’ll be mine. Oh and by the way y/n, consider this a one on one lesson about energy, force, movement and motion. I’m going to drain you of all your energy, force my cock in to this pretty little pussy of yours, have you bounce on my dick like the professional cowgirl I’m sure you are and then I’ll bury myself balls deep inside of you while hitting it from the back. How does that sound?” 

The wanton moan that fell from your lips at the sound of his naughty words made the coil that was already building in your stomach tighten. The two of you spent the rest of the day exploring and learning each other’s bodies. You didn’t think that it was possible to explore the many different positions that the two of you dabbled in while being in such an enclosed space but you weren’t complaining. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to come in here again without reminiscing on the way Mark had your breasts pressed up against the window while he roughly drilled himself in to you doggy style.

Once the two of you both came down from your highs, he took a couple of tissues from his desk and wiped you down. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he went searching for your clothes that he greedily ripped off of you and flew across the room in a haste to finally get inside of you. His breathless moans and grunts, murmured curses, kinky and naughty words and the multiple compliments that fell from his lips while you were loving up on each other were now etched in to the back of your mind. As you watched him pull up his jeans, you felt a pang of hurt hit your chest. 

What have you done? You just slept with your professor; a married man, it didn’t matter if he had feelings for you and that you reciprocated them, you shouldn’t have let your selfish desires and carnal urges take over. For all you knew, his poor wife who had no clue what just happened with you and her husband was sitting at home waiting for him to finish work, probably playing with their daughter and the image made you feel pathetic. You just allowed yourself to fool around with a little girl’s father. You could be the reason she grows up in a broken home because her mother found out about her father’s brief lapse of judgement. 

However, you didn’t feel as much as remorse as you did your feelings for Mark and if he was okay with having an affair with you, than who were you to disagree? Over the next six months, you and Mark snuck around to fool around with one another. If he wasn’t blowing your back out in his office, he was taking you up against the fridge in your apartment or having you ride him in the backseat of your car. After your first time together, he set some ground rules. You weren’t able to text him unless he texted you first in fear of his wife seeing your messages; which turned in to emails instead because it was easier to tell you of how much he missed having his face in between your pretty titties and how much he loves the feeling of you clenching around him. 

You also weren’t allow to mark him in any way which was a given, but that didn’t stop him from leaving a couple of love bites and hickeys around your body making it known that your bed was spoken for. He also didn’t want your affair to get in the way of your job or your studies, therefore he refused to meet up with you no matter how much he wanted to until you finished your work. You didn’t know how the two of you have been keeping this a secret for so long. You were no longer a student of his, but that didn’t stop you from attending his office hours. 

Unfortunately, you made the mistake of falling in love with him less than three months in to your secret little rendezvous but it was hard not to. Sure, most of your relationship was spent making love with one another, but there were times that you got to see the real Mark. There were days where you actually went to see him for some help on your assignments and he would always be so patient and understanding with you. He would also reward you with kisses every time you got an answer right and it made you want to try even harder. Sometimes when he would come over to your place, the two of you wouldn’t even have sex. 

You’d either cuddle and watch a movie together or bake something you saw on the food network. He was also pretty invested in the Xbox that you had and sometimes you’d find yourselves battling each other in halo or call of duty. It was in those moments, the moments where he asked you how your day was, where he held you in his arms for hours and comforted you when you found out your grandfather passed away, where he would buy you your favorite coffee drink and purchased things for you that reminded him of you. It was a mistake. How could you fall in love with someone who was on paper; unavailable?

Mark made you feel things that no one has ever felt before. He showed you things so beautiful that you could only see with him and he made you feel as if you were the most beautiful thing on this earth. When you were with him, you felt like everything was perfect. He made you extremely happy and you knew he felt the same way about you. But when you’d leave his office, or once he’d leave your apartment, you felt empty. 

There was a hole in your chest that he would leave every single time he’d have to go and return home; back to his family. To his wife, who wasn’t you. It would always cloud your mind; how could he continue to go home to her as if nothing was wrong. As if having an affair with one of your students and going back home to your wife was one of the most natural things to do? You didn’t mean to be so selfish and only think about your pain and your suffering, but you’d put yourself in her shoes every now and then. If it were you and you found out your husband were cheating on you, you’d be devastated. 

Over the weekend, you and Yugyeom were at the grocery store preparing for a movie night with a couple of friends to take your mind off of finals. The two of you were arguing on what type of chips to get when your eyes landed on a cute little baby sitting in the cart. She looked so familiar and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint where you have seen her before. It wasn’t until her mother turned the cart around that you knew she was Mark’s wife and that was her daughter. He had a picture of the three of them on his desk in the beginning of the semester and you couldn’t get over how pretty she was. 

She had long, silky hair, a petite frame and a gorgeous smile. The way she was looking at Mark in that photo was the same way you looked at him every day; with so much love and admiration. However, as your relationship continued, you were quick to notice that he took the photo from off of his desk and sometimes he even goes without his ring. It always made you curious as to why he did that, but you never had the courage to ask him. Seeing the two of them in person awoke something inside of you. 

Even if it was just a couple of seconds of seeing them, it felt as if a bucket of cold water was thrown on you and reality just slapped you in the face. For some reason, seeing them made you feel like you were about to throw up. You didn’t understand why you felt so bothered; you had no problem sneaking around with her husband for the last six months. But knowing she existed and actually seeing her were two different things. It made it all the more real that Mark was being unfaithful and that you were a home wrecker, slowly tearing their family apart. 

Only then did it occur to you that Mark wasn’t with them and you knew he was still probably sleeping because you tired him out in the back of your car the night before. You couldn’t allow this affair to continue; it was extremely stupid of you for letting it get this far and you were sure if you didn’t see the two of them that you would only get deeper and deeper in to a mess that you didn’t know how to get out of. That night, you found yourself at your previous fuck buddy Jinyoung’s house. You knew it was a big mistake, but you needed to know that there were other men out there who could please you. 

Other men that would find you attractive and love your body the way that Mark claimed to. Other men that would be able to take your mind off of the only man you’ve ever loved. You needed to know that you could move on from Mark; that he wasn’t the only man out there but as Jinyoung thrusted himself in to you and left wet, sloppy kisses in the crook of your neck, you knew that nobody could take Mark’s place. Nobody would ever be able to set fire to your bones and send your entire body in flames. Nobody could ever be nor replace Mark, and that’s what you were most afraid of. 

You weren’t surprised to see that Mark’s been trying to reach out to you for days. Ever since the day at the grocery store, you’ve been avoiding him. He’s sent you multiple emails over the weekend and thought that you were too busy with finals to get back to him so he understood. But when you didn’t meet up with him at his office that Monday and Tuesday, he knew something was up. You knew he was growing impatient and he must’ve known something was wrong. Mark never called you unless it was an emergency and even then, he would stick with emails and text messages. When you saw the two missed calls, you decided to finally give in and asked him if everything was okay. 

Come to my office in fifteen. We need to talk. 

You took in a deep breath and ignored the look of confusion on Yugyeom’s face before standing up and gathering your things. “One of my classmates are asking to meet up right now to study for the exam on Friday. If you’re not busy later, maybe we could go watch a movie or something. I’m sorry for leaving so sudden, but actually do some studying while I’m gone please? You have all the time after finals to focus on chocolate shakes Yugyeom. However, you won’t be able to afford to buy them anymore if you don’t graduate from college and get a decent paying job. I’ll see you later.” 

You slowly made your way out of the coffee shop to prevent yourself from looking suspicious, but once you left you quickly began making your way back to campus. Thankfully the coffee shop was only a couple of minutes away and it gave you enough to calm down your racing heart. You thought about what you were going to do the entire weekend. As painful and gut wrenching the idea of no longer having Mark in your life was, you just couldn’t keep doing this anymore. Sure, it was mainly because you hated being the cause of a broken home, but it was also because you could no longer be the other woman knowing you harbored feelings for him. 

She was his wife and you would forever be the whore that he only reached out to for sex. The closer you were to his building, the more you could feel the nerves building up all throughout your body. Surely he had to know you were staying away from him and not just focusing on your education in the moment. Even on the days where you were busy, you’d still contact him but you haven’t talked to him once the entire weekend. As soon as you made your way outside of his office, you took in a deep breath and gave yourself a couple of seconds to prepare your entire confrontative speech. 

To your dismay, as soon as you knocked on the door, it’s as if he was waiting right there; waiting for you to arrive because you couldn’t even finish knocking before he opened it. 

“Hi—“ the glare he gave you sent chills down your spine. He’s never looked so upset with you before. Was he really bothered with your silence? Why would he be though? You were just his play thing; you didn’t think not hearing from you would bother him in any way. He allowed you to walk in and closed the door; locking it just to be safe. There were a couple times where the two of you almost got caught because he forgot to do so. Luckily people always knocked before trying to open the door. 

You felt him before you saw him; he wrapped his arms around your lower waist and placed his chin on your shoulder. Many red flags were going off at the feeling of his embrace but you couldn’t pull away; this man took away your sanity. You put him before yourself so many times. You were afraid of the backlash that would come if you were to make it known that something was on your mind. 

This is your last time together y/n, make it worth the while. 

Feeling him leave soft kisses against your neck made you shiver. You began to think back to a few days ago when Jinyoung had you writhing underneath him. With Jinyoung, it felt so rushed and at the end, you felt so disgusted; so used. He didn’t even bring you to your orgasm. With Mark, your release was his number one priority. He wasn’t going to stop fucking you until you came and that’s what you were going to miss. Someone who genuinely seemed to care about you and your well being. Someone who made it his responsibility to make sure you were taken cared of. You were going to miss Mark, but you miss the person you were before stumbling in to bed with him. You were a young woman with morals; one who would frown upon cheaters, mistresses, adulterers. 

Time and time again, you told yourself you could never do that to someone but Mark Tuan broke down your walls entirely and got you to go against everything you ever believed in. Not anymore. Only for today, you were going to allow yourself to give in to him; to allow him to ravish in your body one more time. But once you were done, you were going to leave both his office and his life completely. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

His voice sounded melancholic; as if he was sad that you’ve been doing so and it made you feel even worse. Why did you feel like you were the one ruining everything? When two people have an affair, the two are at fault. It takes two people to cheat, so why do you feel as if this is all your fault? Especially because he was the one to initiate it all? Why did you allow him to take so much from you? So much of your time, love, patience, spirit? Only for him to reciprocate it in sex? Why did you allow this man, this stupidly beautiful man, to own your heart knowing there was no way you could ever own his? 

“I’ve been busy with finals—“

“Bullshit y/n. Now tell me the truth. Why have you been avoiding me huh? Ignoring all my attempts in contacting you—did I say or do something to hurt you?” 

Yes, you broke my fucking heart. You fucked my body and fucked over my mind. You touched me, filled me up entirely and left me empty every single fucking time only to go home to a woman who isn’t me. Who will never be me and I refuse to let you have the power to hurt me anymore. 

“No. You didn’t do anything I’m just—I’m the problem. Don’t worry about me okay?” 

He released a frustrated sigh before turning you around in order to get a better look at you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and gazed down softly at you. His gaze pulled on your heartstrings and now you were worried that there was no way you’d be able to leave now. Mark had that effect on you. He could make the entire world go away and your attention would be solely directed on him. 

“How can I not worry about you? You’re all I ever worry about—all I ever think about. I’ve missed you so much y/n. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong okay? Just let me take care of you.” 

He missed you? No, he didn’t miss you, he missed the sex. He missed your body. He missed the way you did whatever he asked of you. There was no way in hell that he missed you, he didn’t know what he was saying. It was his dick talking for him; you knew how easily turned on he’d get from past experiences. You knew his words were a lie, so why were you now torn on what you should do once this was over? 

He brought his lips down to yours in what started off in an extremely passionate yet gentle kiss. However, it didn’t take long for the kiss to get heated. He gripped at the back of your thighs and wrapped your legs around his hips and roughly shoved you up against the wall. His lips were rough and hot against yours, nipping, sucking and tugging on your bottom lip while playfully squeezing your ass in the process. Your hands absentmindedly made their way in to his hair; it was a habit you had every time you both would make out. 

The soft grunts against your mouth made it aware that he enjoyed your little ministration, and you continued as the kiss only got deeper. Kissing Mark was what you thought you were going to miss the most; he told you on a few occasions how much he loved the feeling of your lips against his and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t trace your lips once he was gone just to reminisce on your love making session. 

“Need to—fuck you—now—right now.” 

You pulled away from his mouth and began leaving wet kisses along his jaw as he carried the two of you over to his desk. He laid you down gently on the table and brushed away some of your hair before stealing one more kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful y/n. Breathtaking.” 

He placed another kiss on your lips; more delicate and feather like this time. You didn’t know which of his kisses you preferred but with the way this one made your heart flutter, his gentler kiss was your new favorite. Countless men that had crushes on you, all of your exes and some one night stands would always tell you of how beautiful they thought you were, but nothing compared to hearing Mark tell you how beautiful you were. 

Although you never thought too much of yourself, Mark never failed to make you feel like a goddess verbally and physically. He brought his hands inside of your shirt and squeezed both your breasts, causing a soft moan to fall from your lips. 

“You like that? I know how much you love when I suck on these big titties of yours. Let daddy get inside of you and then I’ll show them some love.” Your shirt was thrown across the room with your shorts pulled off right after. 

“Fuck—I will never get enough of this view.” 

Watching him bite his lip while looking at you caused you to cross your legs in order to get any sort of friction against your throbbing core. How could someone who talked about such boring topics such as the earth’s mantle and the crevice of the moon be capable of such a naughty mouth? Just like you, he was now in just his underwear and you found yourself admiring his body in all it’s glory. Who knew a physics professor would be hiding such an impressive six pack under all his flannels and band tees? 

“Wanna see just how much I’ve missed you?” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he took off his underwear and you swore you could come just by the sight of his thick and extremely hardened cock. The tip was red and you had a feeling it had to be painful. 

“I’m hard as a fucking rock y/n. I’m sorry you’re going through a hard time baby, but I’m gonna need your help in fixing this problem. You made daddy think you were ignoring him; now daddy’s gonna teach you a lesson.” 

He lined himself at your entrance and ran his cock along your soaking folds to lubricate himself before entering you. His hands made their way up to your chest and he shoved his palms inside of your bra, cupping and squeezing your mounds the same time he pushed himself inside of you. The two of you moan in unison; no matter how many times you’d make love, the stretch always drove the two of you insane. 

“Fuck—so tight—so wet—so, so good. Please—shit shit—tell me when I can move baby please—“ 

Another reason why you loved having sex with Mark was because he always put you first, every single time. He never failed to ask you how you were doing, if he could move, if he was hurting you, if the two of you could experiment in different positions. Although the two of you were commuting such a sinful act, he was always quite the gentlemen and it never failed to bring a smile on your face but they never lasted long. 

The second you nodded in agreement, he began roughly shoving his cock in and out of your cunt. His dick stretched out your tight walls deliciously. Each and every time he bottomed out, you let out a pleasurable sigh; his balls hit the back of your ass with every single thrust and you could feel his cock kiss your cervix whenever he’d return back in to your warm walls. He followed up his promise and continued fondling with your breasts and completely yanking your bra off so that it wasn’t in the way of him massaging your mounds. He flicked at your nipple and pinched the other before bringing your breast inside of his mouth completely. 

“M—Mark—mmm, fuck—your mouth—feels so good and your cock—f—fuck.” He giggled softly as he brought one of your nipples in between his teeth and nibbled softly. 

“What about my cock y/n? Tell me—my dirty little slut. Tell me how it feels? You love the feeling of my balls on your ass yeah? Love the way daddy’s long, thick cock feels going in and out of your slick walls, don’t you y/n? Because I do. Fuck—did you just get tighter—don’t do that y/n, you know what that does to me.” 

If only he knew the real meaning behind his words. If it were anyone else calling you their dirty little slut, you wouldn’t have thought twice about it but since it was Mark and technically yes, you were a dirty little slut, it made your stomach hurt. It wasn’t like you’d clench around him on purpose. It was just so much for you to take. The sound of skin on skin clapping and both your quiet moans filled the entire room making the atmosphere extremely sensual and erotic. He pulled away from your breasts and intertwined both your hands together while placing it on both sides of your head. 

His thrusts only got harder and faster as the minutes went by and you were sure with the pace he was going that you’d both reach your ends here pretty soon. Though most people considered missionary as the most boring sex position, it had to be one of your favorites. You loved watching Mark’s facial expressions as he drilled himself in and out of you. You loved watching the way his eyes would roll to the back of his head as the tip of his cock would graze your clit. You loved seeing his cocky smile every time he’d force you to beg for him to make you come. 

But something in the way he was looking at you right now was different. He never looked at you like this before and you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he looked both fucked out yet soft with a hint of what you assumed was worry or curiosity. A small smile rose upon his face and he leaned down to steal a kiss from your lips. 

“You mean a lot to me y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Fuck, baby please tell me you’re close, please. You always get me to cum so soon. Your pussy is just that good. Ah—shit—“ 

Feeling his warm, creamy liquid fill up your walls got you to release not too long afterwards and you sent him a soft, cheeky grin even though you knew the hell that was coming. He gave you a few minutes to come down from your high and put his clothes back on before cleaning you up and helping you put on your shirt. The pleasurable soreness between your thighs made your cheeks warm and you were sure your legs were probably jelly at the rate he pounded you in, but you wanted your last time together to be memorable. 

After Mark, you don’t think you’d want to be involved with anyone else for a while. Not when you experienced what you thought was the love of a lifetime. Once you were both finished making yourselves look more presentable, he ran his hands through your hair and pecked your nose. Since you knew of your next actions, you pulled his mouth down to yours and left a long, sloppy kiss on his lips. God, you were going to miss him. 

“Hey, y/n, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too much did I?” 

You didn’t even realize a tear fell from your face until he wiped it up with his cheek. This felt like deja vu, Yugyeom did the same thing for you less than two hours ago but for the same reason. You knew he meant it as if he wanted to make sure he didn’t fuck you too hard, but you were in fact in pain. 

You did hurt me, but not in the ways that you think you did. 

“Should we take this back to your place now? I miss eating that pretty pussy of yours. Then we can order some take out tonight or something. I told my wife I wouldn’t be home until late because I knew there was a chance I’d be seeing you today, so we have a good amount of time together—“

The laugh of hysterics that came from the back of your mouth confused him. You couldn’t believe how he was acting so nonchalantly. He told his wife he was going to be late because he planned on sleeping around with another woman. How could he not feel wrong about that? 

“Mark—let’s stop this.” He looked at you as if you grew another head. 

“What are you taking about y/n? Stop what? I don’t understand where this is coming from. Baby—“

“Don’t call me baby! Are you forgetting that you have one? You’re married Mark! You have a wife and a daughter waiting for you at home while you’re out here kissing another woman. Spending time with another woman—fucking another woman! Giving yourself to another woman! Do you know how hard it’s been for me these last few months pretending like nothing was wrong? Fucking you and letting you fuck me knowing that you had a family waiting for your return? Do you know how many times I’ve cried over this situation? How many times I felt disgusted with myself because of this? You’re right Mark, I am a dirty little slut. I’m a whore—a mistress—A FUCKING HOMEWRECKER and I can’t let this go on anymore. I’m sorry.” 

He let out a scoff, but you could see in his eyes that he was now feeling remorse. Whether it was towards you or to his family, you will never know but it didn’t matter anymore. Your mind was made up and there was no way you and Mark could bounce back from this. Especially because your heart was at stake and you were now wearing it on your sleeve. 

“We’ve been fooling around for months y/n and it never seemed to bother you that I have a family. If it did, you would’ve never let it happen but you wanted me just as much as I wanted you. Still want you. Fuck—I meant what I said when I told you that there’s something different about you. You excite me y/n. You’re the only source of my happiness right now. You make me feel safe, you make me feel things not even my wife makes me feel. Please don’t give up on us—tell me what I can do to make it better. I’ll do anything.” 

Leave your wife. You hated that those three words were at the back of your tongue, but it was the selfish bitch inside of you, the one who loved Mark Tuan with every fiber of her being that didn’t care about anyone but herself that wanted him to give up his family life in order to be with her. But the realist in you knew that could never happen. There was no way he’d leave his two-year-old daughter and his wife of four years for a senior in college. He wouldn’t give up everything he’s worked so hard for to be with you. No one in their right mind would do that; especially not for sex. 

“Let me go Mark. It’s what’s best for both of us.”

“Speak for yourself y/n! I can’t lose you. Why only now? Why are you acting like this now? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Your throat was sore from all the yelling and your chest felt dry. Your fists were tightening out of frustration and you were sure there were tears falling from your cheeks but you were too numb to feel anything. A part of you was ready to say fuck it and take him in your arms, but you couldn’t do that. You loved yourself too much to give in to him even if it’s all you wanted to do.

“Your daughter is beautiful. She’s a splitting image of you. Has your pretty brown eyes, light, curly brown hair and such a cute little smile. And your wife is gorgeous. I saw them at the grocery store the other day and seeing them, actually seeing them in the flesh rather than just pictures felt like a punch in the face. You have such a cute little family Mark. Why would you let it all go to waste for a college student you fuck on the regular?”

“Damnit y/n! When will you get it through your head? I don’t say it but I know you know you are more than just a fuck. This is way more than just sex between us and you know it! Fuck! I love you! I’m in love with you and I have been for a while now! That’s why I can’t lose you! You’re all that I want and could ever need in my life. There were so many times I came up with excuses to be home late so I could spend more time with you. You make me feel young, like a little child. All my worries and negative thoughts go away whenever I’m with you. You’re my favorite place y/n. My safe haven. You mean the entire world to me. I’ll do anything to get you to stay. Please—I’ll go insane without you.”

“I love you too Mark. More than I plan on admitting and that’s why I have to let you go.” 

His grip on your waist was tight and he pulled you against his chest in attempts to hide the tears that were falling down his cheeks from you but to no avail. You’ve only seen Mark cry twice in the last few months that you’ve known him for. Once while the two of you watched Christopher Robin and the other when your grandfather passed away. It was weird seeing him cry then, you didn’t think your tears hand any effect on him but it made you smile knowing they did. This time was much more different. It made you know that his words were sincere; that he really did love you and that he would go crazy without you. You’d probably go crazy without him too but it was what you had to do. 

“I’ll leave her. If that’s what it’ll take to make you stay, I’ll leave my wife so we could be together—“ 

You shook your head and gave him a sad smile. As amazing the thought of being with Mark sounded and knowing he was willing to leave his family to be with you made your heart flutter, you couldn’t let him do that. You wouldn’t be able to live knowing what you did. 

“Mark, please don’t. I can’t, okay? I love you, I really do and I probably always will. I’m sure I’ll regret doing this later on in life and I’ll miss you like hell—but it’s the right thing to do. What we had was amazing, but you and I both know we could never be together in the way that we want to.” 

You placed one more kiss on the corner of his mouth and you could feel him hesitating to reach out to grab you, but you knew Mark was aware that you were right. He could fight for you all he wanted, but he couldn’t fight your heart’s decisions. 

“Goodbye Mark. Take care of yourself.”

#got7 imagines #got7 #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan angst

[katsukis-sad-angel]

If You Got a Valentine From the MHA Boys, Here’s What It Would Say…

Pairings: Denki Kaminari x Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, Eijirou Kirishima x Reader, Izuku Midoriya x Reader, and Tenya Iida x Reader

Summary: The titLe

Warnings: Swearing, major uwu, mentions of sexual acts, angst?

AN: I finished this around noon, took a nap, finished AOT season 3, and I realize its 7:20 and I haven’t posted anything for v-day yet. Procrastination at it’s finest

---------------------------------------------------------

→ Denki Kaminari

Baby, you make my palms sweaty, knees weak, arms spaghetti

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Love,

Denki

~

He’d probably spell “valentine’s” and “spaghetti” wrong, and you would probably smack him after reading it, but he still showers you in love and affection all day. After he’s taken you out to eat and given you all the gifts he could afford, he’ll show you the new yellow and black lingerie he bought for you. 

He has quite a few hot yet adorable pictures on his phone now.

His love for you really shows up during this holiday, shining through his usual mask of stupidity.

~

why tf did kami call him ‘kacchan’? does he have a death wish or smth?

→ Katsuki Bakugou

Dear Angel,

Roses are red

Valentines always sucked

When you finish reading this

You’re gonna get fucked

Love you,

Katsuki

~

Despite the crude language on the glittery, handcrafted valentine, you bit your lip in anticipation as you pretended to continue reading. Katsuki stands in front of you, tapping his foot impatiently, red eyes alight and body tense and ready to pounce. There definitely wasn’t a raging boner tenting his sweatpants too. Finally, he snatches the red piece of paper from you, tosses it on your desk and grabs you, throwing you over one muscled shoulder to take you to his room.

Let’s just say it was a nice afternoon, a sweet evening, and a sore, yet pleasant morning.

Lots of chocolate.

And roses.

And a giant fluffy teddy bear with a ribbon around its neck you can buy a BJ’s for like $50

~

i would like to bring todoroki to your attention in the gif above

→ Eijirou Kirishima

To My Honeybun;

Y/n, you are the most amazing girlfriend in the world. Have I ever told you that? If I have, do I tell you enough? Every time I look at you, I swear the world stops. The breath catches in my throat, my heart skips a beat and I can’t help but remember how lucky I am to simply hold your hand when I walk you home from school. Your smile is like the sunrise, your eyes are like the falling stars we saw during the meteor shower, and your hair is softer than the finest silk. You know I could go on forever, right? I don’t tell you enough how much you mean to me, plus if words can’t describe how beautiful you are, then how can I tell you how much I love you? 

I love you.

I have lots of fun things planned today so as soon as you finish reading this, get dressed and come downstairs! This will be the best Valentine’s Day ever!

Your loving boyfriend,

Eiji

~

Honestly, I think his letter would be longer. He wouldn’t hesitate to outline in perfect detail exactly what about you and why he loves it and go on and on for at least 7 pages. 

Change my mind

If you’re dating Kirishima Eijirou, news flash; he loves you more that oxygen itself and he will show you that through many acts of kindness, toothy grins, endless gifts, and sensual evenings. He will put your needs and wants before his own, so please take care of him and show him QUADRUPLE the love he shows you. Because he needs it to stay our favorite unbreakable baby.

~

→ Izuku Midoriya

Dear Y/n,

I’ll do my best to keep this short, but knowing me, that’s probably not gonna happen.

First of all, Happy Valentine’s Day! But even without this holiday, you’ll always be my valentine. I don’t need a special day to celebrate your love in my life. Since today the world is celebrating anyway, I am here to tell you how much I love you. 

That sorta rhymes… right?

I guess that doesn’t really matter as long as I mean it, and I do! I can’t remember a day where your pretty smile didn’t light it up or when one of your hugs couldn’t make me warm. 

I have our whole day planned out so get dressed in something pretty (actually, wear whatever you want. You look beautiful in everything) and meet me by the door.

I love you so much!!!

Izuku

~

This would be WAAAAAAY longer if Izuku Midoriya actually wrote this. Like Kirishima, you’re gonna get a 5-page essay on why you’re perfect, a 17-page essay on his favorite things about you, 2 and a half page essay on your face, 5-page essay on how cute you look wearing his clothes, and on and on and on. If you haven’t noticed, HE. LOVES. YOU. With all the love in his big, heroic heart. And yes. Broccoli boy mcfreakin’ planned out every second of the day, so you better appreciate it and tell him so because the letter you just read sounded like, “You’re gonna be bulbasore tonight babe. Love, Izuku” to him.

~

→ Shouto Todoroki

Dear Y/n,

I got my dad’s credit card so why don’t we go on a little shopping spree? Then we can go to McDonaldTrump’s for lunch afterward. 

Meet you downstairs,

Sho

P.S. Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful!

~

It probably wouldn’t be a handwritten letter, most likely a text message, but you would still appreciate it a lot. Not only do you have a hot boyfriend, but he’s rich, he’s kind, and he loves you. Plus, you hate his dad so you were more than happy to drain a few thousand dollars from his bank account. Not that Endeavor would notice. The dude is literally rolling in cash. 

(In reality, Shouto saved up his money so he could spend it on you. He didn’t want you to feel guilty for spending his or be dependent on his father to keep his woman happy)

Since this was a special day for both of you, Sho makes sure you have a lot of fun and you’re sure to remind him how much you love him too.

Cuddling in the evening while eating premium caramel-filled milk chocolates.

New clothes and shoes still in bags and boxes in the corner.

Forehead kisses.

~

kami... bish u abt dumb as fock

→ Tenya Iida

Dear Y/n, 

I have a few things I want to say in my letter before we go out today so I guess I’ll start with this; you are as important in my life as a beat is to the heart, you know that? I can’t live without you anymore. When I think about the days before we started dating… well, I don’t remember them. I feel like I don’t deserve such a special and beautiful girl in my life. Someone perfect, and fun, and kind. Qualities I didn’t know could exist all in one person. 

Never forget that I love you with all my heart and our bond is strong and irreplaceable to me.

Happy Valentine’s Day, darling,

Tenya

~

Tenya would be so stupidly honest and pure in the letter, it brought you to tears.

When you finish reading, you’re crying your eyes out and run to his room and into his arms. When you crash into Tenya’s bed, he nearly has a heart attack when he sees you crying. Unfortunately, this beautiful man is surprised he even had a girlfriend and their relationship lasted this long. After explaining to him that the letter was the sweetest thing you’d ever read and that you loved him so so much, he let out a huge sigh of relief and pulled you close.

HUGS in those huge, muscular arms of his and head pats until you were smiling again.

*He feels so lucky to have you right then*

You get spoiled all freaking day.

The gifts never seem to stop.

Tenya’s true, calm, sweet, and  loving nature really shines through this holiday and you couldn’t feel more blessed when he takes his glasses off and smiles

#denki kaminari x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #tenya iida x reader #dontmesswiththenootnoot #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #valentines day #being single is nice #but its really not at the same time #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #denki kaminari #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #eijirou kirishima #izuku midoriya #small might #deku #tenya iida #tenya ida

[justkeeptrekkin]

Wrote a little Good Omens/Star Trek crossover

.... for the awesome @comicgeekery​. Thanks for the inspo!

5th April, 2063

“--historic day for humankind. For this is truly the first time that we have been able to refer to ourselves as such with the certainty that there is, in fact, life elsewhere in the perceivable universe.”

It’s a balmy, spring afternoon in London when Crowley rolls out of bed and turns on the television. Honestly, he’s fairly used to ignoring the news; it’s only on because he’d left it on channel one last night for a nature documentary that he and Aziraphale have been watching about whales. That’s why he pays very little attention to the picture on his projector screen.

“-- quite extraordinary. It seems as if this was all triggered by Zefram Cochrane's attempt at warp-speed flight, and er-- just coming in now, these beings call themselves Vulcans, Jane, and-- aha-- well, they’re not quite saying that they come in peace, but if our translators are correct, they’re offering us a long and prosperous life--”

Crowley slams his mug on the counter. He’s run out of coffee. He could very easily conjure up some more now, right here, but miracle-coffee is never as good as the nice Costa Rican stuff he buys. Or, more accurately, that Aziraphale buys for him, because he’s just that much of a kept man, apparently.

A knocking at the door. A light rapping that Crowley recognises immediately, and it would usually make him humiliatingly happy except for the fact that he’s just woken up from a--

He checks the time on the TV screen.

 -- from a two week nap, he hasn’t got any coffee, and the TV is blabbering on far too loudly. Waving a hand at said TV until it is muted, Crowley slides over to the door, dressing gown belt flapping about against his leg, and opens it with a flourish.

 Aziraphale has that bright-eyed, bushy-tailed look about him: never a good sign. “Crowley--”

Crowley plants a brief kiss on his cheek, then immediately retreats back into the kitchen, shoulders heavy with sleep. “I’m going back to sleep, angel. World’s too loud still.”

”Crowley--” the sound of the door slamming, very purposefully, Crowley thinks, as Azriaphale continues: “I have been trying to call you all morning. I thought you left your phone on vibrate for such things.”

 “I did. Didn’t I?” Crowley scratches his head. He’s sure he’d changed the ring tone for Aziraphale’s phone number specifically so he’d wake up when only he called. “Apparently not, sorry Angel-- any news?”

He sees the way Aziraphale is rolling his eyes and flapping about when he turns back around from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. His hands are fiddling with each other in that excitable way that they do, a happy nervous way that he’s come to adore. Crowley hands him a cup. Aziraphale takes it with a pointed raise of his brow.

“Any -- any news? Really. You could not have asked a more absurd--”

At that point, apparently, he’s lost for words. More frustrated than Crowley realised, and so he begins to take Aziraphale’s bright eyes and bushy tail a little more seriously. Particularly when Aziraphale puts down the cup of tea of all things, and gestures to the television, one arm outstretched and gaze still fixed on Crowley.

The screen remains muted. However, Crowley gathers what Aziraphale is gesturing at fairly quickly. He’s so used to letting the news blend into the background, tired of feeling depressed by the human race -- especially with this World War III nonsense -- that he’d completely missed that something, actually, rather important has been happening.

It looks like the research base in San Francisco. Crowley knows only a little about this; as the angel who created a fair few of the stars in the sky, he takes interest when humans start pointing their big magnifying glasses at them. Zefram Cochrane, the inventor of warp-speed engines, and a few other important looking men (who may well be important, what does Crowley know? He hasn’t been paying attention) welcomes three people. People, except they’re not human. Humanoid, perhaps, but human? No. Crowley can spot an alien a mile off.

“Crikey,” he mutters, hovering in his sparse living room with his dressing gown open and tea steaming.

Aziraphale nods fervently.

“Which ones are these?”

“These are the Vulcans,” Aziraphale explains. “Do you remember? Our colleagues -- oh, I forget their names -- a few of our colleagues helped set up. Erm.” Aziraphale purses his lips. “Well, their version of Eden.”

“Something like Sha Ka Ray, if I remember,” Crowley mutters, unblinking as he watches one of the Vulcans raise their hand in a v-shape, the humans mimicking.

“That was it! Sha Ka Ree.”

They’re wearing long, heavy cloaks. Even expressions, but glints in their eyes, as if they are taking some professional enjoyment out of this. The humans, barely containing their own excitement -- and probably a good dose of apprehension. Human beings, finally meeting an alien species who could take them down a notch, teach the buggers a couple of things. Crowley and Aziraphale certainly never managed to, much as they’ve tried. Far too stubborn.

After a while of sitting and watching the proceedings-- the beginnings of a new, enterprising delegation-- Crowley gives a long exhale.

“Those bowl cuts are questionable.”

Stardate: 53459 (17th July 2269)

“What? Just give them a quick ring? Give the flagship of Starfleet’s exploratory expedition a cheeky call, just to check in? ‘Hello Enterprise, nice to meet you’?”

“Yes. Why, do you not think that they’d appreciate it?”

“It’s less that they won’t appreciate it and more that it might blow their tiny minds, Angel.”

“They’ve met plenty of extraordinary species by this point -- extraordinary by their standards, anyway. A call from us will be -- how do they put it -- ‘a walk in the park’--?”

“Not the point. That’s -- that’s actually the bit that I’m struggling with, here. What is the point, exactly? What are you aiming to achieve? You looking to freak them out or…?”

“Well, I thought perhaps we could… ah. Tell them who we are.”

Aziraphale looks at Crowley. Red hair tied up, ringlets around his face; silver eye-shadow; a black jumpsuit in the style of the Terran fashion that really leaves very little to the imagination, with cut-outs here and there all over his body. Legs crossed, foot bouncing impatiently, arms sprawled across the back of Aziraphale’s sofa. In his old bookshop, Crowley always sticks out like a sore thumb, and he’s always loved that about him.

He tilts his head. “Really,” he drawls, vaguely amused.

“Yes. Don’t you think it’s about time?”

“IIIII dunno…” Crowley sucks air through his teeth contemplatively. “Never ends very well. Tell humans that angels and demons roam their planet and they get all agitated. Don’t need to tell you that, you remember how much it traumatised dear old Hieronymous. Couldn’t stop painting us, the poor bastard.”

Aziraphale sighs. “Yes, well, that was different. That was almost a millennia ago, now.”

The bookshop is still just as dusty as it has ever been. Crowley has been urging him to at least install a proper computer -- one that will answer to him, rather than sitting there stupidly, looking like a brick. But he is quite happy with it as it is, especially when he has Crowley here, lounging about as he’s always done, draped across the furniture like he’s still wrapped around that apple tree. And drinking more wine than is good for them.

“Right so -- let’s just role-play this--” Crowley’s glass makes a decisive clink against the table, “-- we patch into their network. Right? I find their frequency and just, try and call from my PADD.”

“Yes,” he confirms, not liking his partner’s tone of voice.

“So then they answer, all, military-like and ready for some sort of diplomatic… situation.”

“Mm…”

Crowley’s leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating a enthusiastically. “They see us, they’re all, ‘oi, how did you get this number?’ and we’re all, ‘sorry, just thought we’d pop in and introduce ourselves, we’re your new neighbours,’” he wrinkles his nose mockingly, “‘Cept we’re not new at all, not really, we’ve been here since the dawn of time, but don’t worry too much about that’.”

“Well--”

“So they’re all, ‘ah, immortal beings from outer space!’ and we have to explain that, actually, we’re not really from space at all, we’re the ones who made space, and no, sorry, we’d love to patch you through to God, except She’s been a little busy for the past six thousand odd years, no can do, just got us boring old sods’.”

“Crowley, really. Don’t you think you’re being a little reductionist?”

“No.” Suddenly serious. “I don’t. They’re humans. They’re brilliant, but they’re also humans, which means they’re also thick as shit.”

Aziraphale purses his lips, electing to ignore the love of his life for this moment. Sitting up properly, linking his hands in his lap. “I think it’s time.”

“And what do you think they’ll do?”

“Perhaps it will bring about some new, interesting philosophy. About the nature of the universe, of the overlap between science and faith.”

Crowley’s brow quirks, yellow eyes staring, wide and disbelieving. “Some ‘new and interesting philosophy’? Books. You’re talking about books. You think you’ll get some nice literature out of this.”

Aziraphale flounders. “Well, that’s not exactly how I’d put it--”

Crowley scowls. But then, he’s taking out his PADD from his purse, making aggravated noises as his fingers fly across the screen.

“You’re doing it?” Aziraphale asks hopefully.

“Yes, yes. You got all happy as soon as you started talking about it and-- I was never really going to say no, was I? You know how pathetic I am by this point, surely.”

He’s not looking at him, but Aziraphale is gazing with those big, angel-eyes that Crowley’s told him he uses sometimes. They drive him insane, but he can’t help it, not when Crowley’s being so unintentionally romantic. “Oh, Crowley.”

“Shhhht. Stop. I’m not doing anything nice, I’m--”

“Not nice, I know.”

Aziraphale smiles serenely. Crowley’s scowl deepens, just as the PADD begins to ring.

The screen is propped up against a wine bottle, just in time for the image to reveal a man. A man in green and gold, sand-blonde hair swept back and a look of cautious curiosity in his hazel eyes. Behind his chair, a woman in red is leaning over the controls. The captain’s head is angled slightly, tilted as he seems to consider his situation -- consider the two strangers who have called their starship.

“Greetings, this is Captain Kirk of the Starship: Enterprise. To whom am I speaking?”

“Oh, how exciting,” Aziraphale whispers, nudging Crowley a little. Then, more loudly, “Greetings, Captain Kirk! My name is Aziraphale, and this is Crowley.”

Crowley sighs, seeming very put upon.

Aziraphale nudges him again. “Well! Don’t be rude, Crowley.”

“Yes, hello, how very nice to meet you,” he simpers accordingly.

“This is a secure line, gentlemen. How did you access our co-ordinates?”

“Ah, yep, sorry, my fault,” Crowley waves a hand. “I’m -- well, we’re, er… we can do stuff. Lots of stuff. He’ll explain later.”

He shoots Aziraphale a glare, which seems to be a warning that this could go horribly wrong. Aziraphale, ever the opportunist, elects to ignore this.

“That I shall,” Aziraphale adds, pointedly.

Kirk thinks. He thinks, sitting so still as he leans towards the monitor, that for a moment, Azirpahale thinks the screen has frozen. Then, turning his head to his right, he notes that he is talking to someone. A certain someone who then appears on screen, a royal blue shirt and hands clasped behind his back. A Vulcan. The two converse with a silent look.

Ah. Aziraphale knows that look very well. 

“Be that as it may,” Kirk continues, turning back to them, “it is technically a federal crime to trace Starfleet co-ordinates and to contact a ship without first organising an official meeting. That is, unless it is an emergency.”

“Oh, yes, I have heard of your ship’s adventures, captain,” Aziraphale rushes. He puts down his glass of wine. “You’ve done an awful lot of good, helping those in need.”

“We… do our best,” he says with a slow nod.

“Sorry. For the, er… illegal call,” Crowley says.

Another moment where both men share a glance. And then, the Vulcan in blue tilts an inquisitive chin.

“Sir, may I enquire as to the colour of your eyes? They do not appear to be contact lenses.”

It takes a moment for Crowley to realise that he’s the one being addressed. Then, “Ah! Bollocks. Forgot the sunglasses-- see Aziraphale, this is why we don’t call Starfleet when we’ve had two bottles of Rioja.”

“Awfully sorry, dear--”

The captain looks up at his colleague with a wry smile and a raised brow. “Spock, don’t you think it’s a little rude to as a stranger questions about their appearance?”

“A stranger who has made contact with Starfleet’s flagship outside of legal parameters.”

“Still, politeness can go a long way,” he adds with a smirk, and a look in his eyes that’s, quite frankly, obscene.

Crowley clears his throat. “To answer your question-- although, seems like they’re more interested in each other,” he says to Aziraphale as an aside, “- to answer your question, yeah, they’re real. Snake eyes. Unfortunate accident involving a bastard called Lucifer.”

A pause. The man named Spock tilts his head. Kirk leans forward in his seat.

“Lucifer, you say?”

At that, Crowley gives a wicked smile. Aziraphale sighs. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined this conversation starting.

Stardate: 51650 (9th May 2271)

“My point is -- my point is -- tribbles. Tribbles, now -- whose idea were those, then? Who thought they were a good idea? They’ve -- they’ve not got faces, they’ve not got hands or feet or paws or anything, just, little balls of fluff that just poof! Reproduce, until you’re up to your tits in furballs.”

“Now, tha’s what ah been tryna tell yeh, captain. And you mind what he’s saying, too, Lieutenant Uhura! I know you thought they’s adorable, but they’re terrors.”

“Pointless, they’re pointless. Don’t know what they were thinking of when they made tribbles, whoever they were.”

“Aye! See, straight from the mouth of an angel!”

“Er, former angel.”

”Them wee bastards’ve been cloggin’ up my ship’s engine, would ye believe?”

 “Our ship, Scotty.”

 “Oh. Well, o’course, captain… I didnae mean no disrespect, captain--”

 “In Russia--”

“I swear, if you’re about to say that Russia invented tribbles, Chekov, I’ll kick you out of this here bar faster than you can say Alabama Slammer.”

“Alright, now, Bones, it’s shore leave. He can say what he wants. We’re all here to relax. Isn’t that right, Spock?”

“Yeah, he sure looks relaxed there, Jim.”

“I am not accustomed to frequenting such establishments.”

“I would like to state, for the wecord, sir, that I was not going to say that Russia inwented tribbles.”

“I -- ah -- actually, I have a bit of a confession to make in that respect…”

“Angel. Please. Please don’t tell me that you’re… Christ, you didn’t…”

“You are the angel responsible for creating the tribble species?”

“You have a lot to answer for, Aziraphale.”

“It wasn’t intentional! Or, rather, the intention was to simply create a creature so lovely and adorable that no one could quite resist it. And, I suppose, what with evolution and how that may have changed their, erm, reproduction process…”

“You bastard.”

“Crowley -- for Heaven’s sake, it was simply an accident! You can hardly say that it’s worse than some of your creations.”

“I invented Luton airport. You invented the universe’s most irritating pest. Honestly, I figured some lower ranking demon had been the one to come up with it, but now I feel, sort of… betrayed.”

“Don’t say that! May I remind you that you are the one who came up with the M25? Which nearly destroyed the universe as we know it!”

“I beg your pardon? Would you care to rewind and just, explain that last bit, Aziraphale?”

“Oh -- er, it’s a long story.”

“A very long story that would mean another round. Angel, you are definitely bloody-well buying.”

Stardate: 43897 (24th November 2366)

“You know, when you said that you wanted to check-in with Picard and the team, this isn’t what I imagined.”

Their call isn’t immediately picked up. However, when it is, the first thing they see is a large barbershop quartet. They’re all wearing pink, candy-stripe suits and wicker hats. The bridge of the Enterprise looks much the same as it did under captain Kirk, if not for this barbershop quartet, and perhaps a few technological tweaks. And, of course, the current captain who sits in his chair, face in his hand.

“Er.” Crowley looks at Aziraphale, who looks back at Crowley. “This doesn’t look like a good time.”

“No, by all means,” Picard gestures to the screen, other hand still covering his face. “If you have any advice to offer, then I will happily take it.”

“What…” Aziraphale trails off, purses his lips. The, trying to affect something light and airy, “What seems to be the problem, captain?”

Picard looks over the edge of his hand. “Are you aware of the being that calls itself ‘Q’?”

He’s about to say that he isn’t -- perhaps Crowley knows this Q?-- but before they even have a moment to deliberate, the tallest of the barbershop quartet members steps forward from the throng and hops down the steps to Picard’s side. Dark eyes that have seen too much, brightened by mischief. And for a moment, there is the faintest flicker of recognition as he doffs his hat to the screen, leaning against Picard’s captain chair.

“Good day to you, gentlemen. Did you like my song?”

“No,” Picard says quite firmly. “Now, would you please leave and take your pestering elsewhere!”

Q tuts, rolls his eyes. Pokes his thumb in Picard’s direction. “He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t had his morning cup of Earl Grey.”

“You…”

It’s Crowley that says this. Leaning forward on Aziraphale’s sofa, snake pupils narrowing. And it’s then that Aziraphale realises that this is absolutely someone they know. He just can’t put his finger on it, whilst Crowley clearly has.

“You know him?” Picard says, with the smallest flicker of hope.

“Wait. Wait a second now,” Q points his finger at Crowley, frown deepening. He miracles his hat away, cradles his chin. “Now, we worked together a long time ago, didn’t we?”

That makes Aziraphale stare back at Crowley.

There’s some hesitance. “Oh. Sure, probably. Long time ago, now, wasn’t it? Who knows. Worked with lots of people.”

“No, no, no -- we did a lot of creating with each other. Some fun messing around you know?”

“Er. Not sure. Might have a different person in mind--”

And then those eyes widen. A wicked grin on his face, and Aziraphale can only imagine that this Q must be a demon.

That’s when Aziraphale finds himself standing on the bridge of the Enterprise. Jean-Luc Picard looking up at them despairingly, whilst the rest of his crew work as diligently as they can with a quartet serenading them. Data, notably, is working with the utmost focus, whilst Wharf looks like he’s two seconds away from ripping something in half bare-handed. Riker looks no more patient.

“Oh,” Aziraphale remarks. “You’ve -- you miracled us here!”

No use, Q is far too preoccupied by Crowley. Pointing a finger in recognition. “You’re Crawly! I remember you! Oh, we got up to some good stuff together, huh? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of the guys from the Milky Way neighbourhood. You guys really like to keep to yourselves, I never understood it. Totally obsessed with your ‘Eden’ as if the rest of us don’t exist.”

“You o know him,” Picard says with some accusation.

Crowley looks, to put it lightly, a little embarrassed. Hands sliding in his pockets and averting his snake-eyed gaze, “Yup. Long time ago. Hung out with a different crowd, then, you got to understand…”

“Qasphiel.” The name bubbles up on Aziraphale’s tongue from nowhere; memories of a gaggle of angels who called themselves the Q Continuum, who were cast out for blasphemy. Creating your own little gang was never something that The Almighty did like. “You’re Qasphiel. You know, I do remember you, now that I think about it.”

Q looks Aziraphale up and down once. “I don’t remember you. Were you one of the more straight-laced types? Yeah, we wouldn’t have hung out, much.”

“Excuse me? I… I’ll have you know, that since then I’ve become quite the rebel--”

“What’re you doing here, Qasphiel?” Crowley interrupts with some exhaustion. “Coming in here and getting on everyone’s nerves -- believe me, I get that it’s fun for a while, but, come on. You must be a bit knackered of it now, no matter what the others are getting you to do.”

“Ah, but I don’t work on anyone’s terms any more. Not even the Continuum’s,” Q smiles smugly.

“That’s awfully nice, but the alternative is buggering off, so the rest of us can get on with our lives.”

He narrows his eyes at Crowley. “What’s in it for me?”

A weary sigh. And Aziraphale considers just how kind Crowley has always been, even if he doesn’t always see it. “Listen. How about -- what about a catch-up. Grab a drink on some planet in the Omicron Delta quadrant. Talk about old times? Big Bang and all that?”

“Ah yes,” Q sighs. Then, apparently distracted, “You know, I don’t recall the yellow eyes,” he gestures to his own. “The demonic thing. Did you fall with Lucy and the others, Crawly? Bad luck.”

“That’s a story that needs telling over a drink.”

There’s a long moment -- too long a moment -- where Q considers this offer. Picard is leaning back in his seat and watching the interaction over steepled fingers. Even Data has stopped to listen, head tilted in interest.

Then, Q shrugs.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

And with that, Picard’s bridge is once again empty of divine or immortal beings. Or barbershop quartets. It is extraordinarily quiet.

Picard lets out a long exhale. “Never a dull day.”

 Stardate: unknown

Three suns set upon the horizon of Alpha Centauri. Palm trees wave in the breeze; planted there a few decades ago when this planet first became populated by humanoid species. The air tastes like salt and smells like ozone. A burning orange sky, a deep purple scattering of stars directly above them. Small, clay houses, their shutters closed in the late afternoon heat. Mountain ranges in the distance, seeming so small from their little balcony.

“Total tourist trap,” Crowley mutters into his glass of Romulan ale.

Aziraphale stifles a burp. “Sorry?”

“Look at it. Tourist trap.” Crowley crosses his legs on the railing of the balcony. “All of it. Built like a Terran city, as well. Palm trees and all that bollocks. Shops and restaurants, Christ, it couldn’t get more human if you tried. When will they stop colonising and just learn to appreciate?”

“Mmm.”

“Remember when we could come here and not be harassed by people selling sunglasses? When it was just a big, ol’ expanse?”

“Empty,” Aziraphale remarks. Then, wide eyed, “Hot.”

They watch the first sun dip behind the mountain ranges. The Romulan ale burns Crowley’s throat nicely.

“D’you ever wonder what it would’ve been like?”

Aziraphale takes a slow, indulgent breath. And Crowley knows that he understands what he’s asking. “Sometimes. But I think it’s better that we didn’t run away. We did save the universe, after all.”

“I know, obviously. But do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t?”

Of course he does. They both have. Images of a war-torn universe, of all of this: gone.

Crowley drops his hand, finds Aziraphale’s. Their fingers link, and they absorb the light of three, alien stars.

#star trek #good omens #ineffable husbands #lmao #my writing #this was meant to be 5 +1 times and i just realised it was 4+1 #oops sorry m8