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mrs-takami-keigo · 4 years

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Mesmerize

Song:Mesmerize by Ja rule

Club owner Bakugou X Fem!Reader Rating E! 18+

As stated in my RULES all characters I write will be 21 and up! In this Bakugou is twenty-nine.

Prompt: Character flirts with you at the club and couldn’t wait till you got somewhere secluded to have you.

Word count:4.2k

Warnings:Dirty talk, Orgams denial, public sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation, alcohol

This was a request from my PROMPTS I did for my zodiac twin @katsukikitten. This was so much freaking fun to write!!

And this will also be my first tile off of my BINGO masterlist!

Huge thank you to @samanthaa-leanne and @shoutogepi for beta reading this for me!

You felt the bass of the loud music vibrate through your body as you maneuvered through the crowd of people, bodies pressed together, lights flashing and drinks in everyone's hand, you expected nothing less from the hottest club in the city. Usually the smell of alcohol would bother you but right now it didn’t matter because you were finally out of the house and having a good time. That quarantine felt like it lasted for years but you also understood it was necessary. Everyone was drunk, inhibitions thrown out the window, tonight was about living it up.

“What can I get for you!” The bartender shouted from across the slightly sticky white countertop. Even on an insane night like this he had a giant smile on his face, happy to finally have business.

“Can I get a gin and tonic with two limes and make it a double please!” The red haired man gives you a curt nod of his head before grabbing a glass and making your drink.

Turning around you pressed your exposed back to the bar, elbows resting on the surface. You took in the sight of the club, people dancing, laughing, lovers showing their affection for each other rather publicly. A smirk played on your lips at a couple as their lips seemed to become molded together, wandering hands gripping ass, boobs, anything they could get their hands on.

It made you a little envious. How long has it been since you’ve had your back blown out, moaning at the top of your lungs by some good dick? Months, six months to be exact, but it’s not like you were counting or anything.

“Here you go, love!” The sound of the bartender's voice broke you out of your thoughts. Turning around you went to open your clutch only to have his hand cover yours. Looking up, the bartender was shaking his head. “Your drinks for the night have been covered by someone already.”

“What? Who?!” You looked around to see if anybody was looking in your direction, assuming whoever did this would want for you to talk to them. You’ve had drinks bought for you in the past on numerous occasions, may it have been the old man trying to relive his youth after a divorce to a young guy just trying to impress you by spending money on you.

“Not at liberty to say, but just enjoy it love. Name is Kirishima, if you need a refill just let me know.” The red headed man sent you a playful wink before he slid down the bar, helping the other patrons.

‘Covered for the night huh?’ A smirk played on your lips as you twirled the little red straw between your fingers, the ice cubes clinking against the side of the glass. Wrapping your glossed lips around the plastic material you took a sip of the drink, the slight burn from the gin hit you first but was subdued by the sweet and tangy taste of the limes. Kirishima made this drink super strong but it was still pleasurable. And if drinks were gonna be covered all night nothing was stopping you from downing the small glass of alcohol in five minutes, before waving down your new favorite bartender for another.

Not sure how much time had passed, you were only counting by drinks and you were positive you were on your fith glass. You weren’t completely drunk, still sober enough to know your name, address and phone number but you were sure if you drank two more right now you’d be black out drunk. Pulling out your phone you clicked the button on the right side, bringing the small device to life.

‘It’s only one am and I’m already like this?’ You still had the whole night ahead of you and you were damned if you had to go home early. Facing the bar you looked for Kirishima, trying to get his attention. But he was distracted by a group of women who were fawning over his bright red spiked hair.

“Oi dumbass! You got other people here waiting! Stop tryna get your dick wet and get her something to drink!” You weren't sure when the male had snuck up behind you, but between his loud voice and his body fully pressed against yours you couldn’t move. His chest felt like a rock against your back, a low rumble vibrating through his chest as he yelled, looking down to your right you saw one of his hands pressed on the bar. Not even seeing his face yet, you could feel your pussy come alive.

“Damn Bakugou! I could have really had some fun tonight.” While you were lost in your slight desire for this Bakugou person, Kirishima had reluctantly walked away from the group.

“I really don’t give a fuck.” You could feel him lean down so his face was next to your’s. Not even daring to your head, afraid if he was attractive you’d lose the last of your resolve. “You want another gin and tonic, double with two limes, or you want some water?” He spoke in a lower tone almost like a growl, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You started to love and hate the fact that you wore this specific dress tonight, it was a skin tight royal blue satin dress, a small strap wrapped around your neck leaving your entire back exposed. What you really loved about this dress was how it hugged you curves in all the right places while still looking classy. The bad part was you could feel his other large hand placed on the small of your back and because of that your cunt started to pulsate. You were already sure you had a small wet spot on your black lace panties.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you turned your head to look at the male that had this effect on you. ‘Holy shit he’s fucking hot.’ His crimson colored eyes were fixated on you, blonde brows lifted as a smug smirk graced his lips. Messy fluffy blonde hair on top of his head, a black button down fitting perfectly on his slim yet fit body. The first three buttons were undone, exposing the silver chains that hung from his thick neck.

“You’re pretty fucking hot yourself.” A tongue slipped past his lips in a swift motion, those crimson eyes glanced down roaming over your curves, drinking in the sight of you like he was ready to eat you right there against the bar. You were sure you felt his hand on your lower back shift so his fingers were brushing dangerously close to the edge of the dress that sat right on top of your ass.

At first you were perplexed on why he would say that to you only to realise you said he was hot out loud instead of in your head. First time out in months and you embarrass yourself infront on the finest man you’ve set your eyes on, fucking great.

“You want another drink love?” Kirishima placed an empty glass on the bar, ready to make your usual.

“Can I get water this time?” You were trying to ignore the man who was still behind you. His gaze on you was so intense that you were sure he could see right through you. Bakugou had said less than twenty words and you were ready to have his face buried in your pussy. Yeah you definitely needed water if you were gonna try to talk to this fine ass man.

“You know it’s pretty fucking rude to ignore a person who was talking to you.” He had moved from behind you, to stand next to you. Resting his right forearm on the bar he leaned so he could see your entire face. “But I’ll let it slide, I’m in a good mood tonight.”

You still haven’t looked in his direction, trying to hide the fact that this man had you flustered. Kirishima had passed you a tall glass full of ice cold water, lifting it up to your slightly parched lips, you let the cold water slide down your throat. You didn’t realize just how thirsty you actually were til that moment. Closing your eyes you relished in the feeling of the water cooling you down, a little spilled from the side of your mouth, sliding down your neck.

Bakugou watched as that clear liquid flowed down your smooth skin, it glistened as the club lights hit it. He wanted nothing more than to use his tongue and lap up that water but restrained himself.

“And it’s rude to creep up behind a girl and place your hand on her like that without asking.” You set the glass down, turning to face him, coping the same position he was in. “No introduction, no ‘excuse me’. You even yelled at sweet Kirishima as if you owned the place, asshole.”

“Oi Kirishima, who owns this fucking place?” Bakugou never shifted his gaze from your fiery ones as he called out to the bartender.

“Uh you boss.” The minute those words rolled out of his mouth you could feel panic run through your body.

‘Boss?! No fucking way!’

“And who covered her tab for the night?” You didn’t know if you wanted to slap that smug look off his face or let him have his way with you at the moment, right now both sounded like a good plan.

“Once again you boss.”

“Thanks dumbass, you can leave now, I’m sure those hoes are still waiting for you.” Bakugou stood up straight, towering over you even in your heels. He moved forward forcing you to move back away from him. You weren't sure if it was because of the gin or if it was because of him but you could feel your face begin to flush, legs becoming like jelly with each step you took, the look in his eyes were dark and full of lust. As if he was a lion waiting to pounce on his prey.

“Now who was the asshole again?” His voice came out as a snarl, lips curled up showing off his canines and gums. Stumbling backwards your back came in contact with the wall at the end of the bar. It just so happened that this particular corner was hidden in the dark corner of the club. “What happened? You got all that bark and no bite?”

Bakugou had caged you between the wall and his body, his right arm blocking you from the crowd and with his broad build shielding you from the people behind him. With his free hand, he gently gripped your face, tilting your head up so you could look at him. His face was so close to yours, breaths mingled together as his eyes bore into you.

“I’m gonna be fuckin honest here, I saw you the minute you entered my club. I watched as you made your way across the dance floor and over to shitty hair. You cast a fuckin spell on me and all I wanna do is fuck you against this wall right now.” You felt your breath hitch as he placed his thigh in between your legs. His semi-hard cock was pressed against your leg. “But I won’t do anything unless you want me too. I’m not a fucking animal.”

The way your mouth went dry as he spoke and your pussy began to ache for him. This man you met only ten minutes ago was just your type, dominating, handsome and still a fucking gentelman. If anyone cast a spell it was him.

“Age?” You had a few questions before letting this man dick you down.

“Twenty nine and you?”

“Twenty eight. You clean?”

Smirking down at you he knew that this was your way of saying yes to him. “My body is my temple princess.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you ground your sex against thigh, a moan floating out of yours and his lips. “Do your worst asshole.”

Before you could even blink his mouth was pressed against your glossed ones. Nothing about this situation was romantic, no it was nothing but carnal desire. Your body longed to be touched by someone and fuck did you hit the jackpot with this one.

His hands roamed down your back, slightly scratching your smooth skin leaving small red marks in their wake. Soon he gilded his hands over your ass, cupping your cheeks in his large calloused hands. Breaking the kiss you let out a shuttered breath, by him gripping you up like that caused you to rub against his thigh again but this time it was much harder than before.

“I can feel how wet you are through my fucking pants, you want me that bad huh?” Bakugou growled against your neck, giving it small licks and nips, eyes started to roll into the back of your head. Between his attack on your neck and him constantly making you rub your pussy against his thigh, you were sure he was gonna wreck you.

“Don’t flatter yourself dipshit, it's been a long six months.” He was right though, you wanted him, you wanted him so bad. Your nimble fingers made their way to his belt, trying to unbuckle it and get what you wanted.

“You’re an eager little slut aren’t ya?” Grabbing your hands, Bakugou lifted them above your head, holding both wrists in one of his hands. “Don’t worry princess I’ll be sure to make you cum hard. We’ll save all that sensual shit for next time.” Fuck, he had you completly under his control. As much as you wanted to fight him and challenge him, you couldn’t. All you wanted was for him to fuck you.

Bakugou had turned his body slightly to the side, covering you from anyone that could still see you. You were so lost in him that you forgot that you were in the fucking club and out in the open. But you were far too deep now to care, and so was everyone else.

You could feel Bakugou lift the hem of your satin dress up, exposing your black lace panties. Taking his long middle finger he grazed it against you, slightly pressing between your folds. “I fucking knew it, you are soaked. Look at my finger, it's coated with your juices.” He brought the same finger he used against you, sticking his tongue out, sliding the coated digit over it.

“God with just that little bit I can tell you taste so fucking good.” His leg was still between your own and your arms still above your head, you ground your hips against him once again. He was doing too much teasing and all you wanted was that sweet sweet release.

“Stop playing with me and fuck me!” You hissed between your teeth.

The hand holding your wrists tightened as he held your hips down. He leaned down, lips barely touching your own. “Don’t tell me what to do.” You knew he wouldn’t cause any actual harm to you but that statement sent shivers down your spine. “Just for being a brat I’m gonna make you beg for it. Make you beg to cum, make you beg for my dick to stretch that tight sopping wet pussy.”

You gulped as his grip on your hip loosen. “Are you gonna be a good fucking girl for me?”

You could only nod your head, words and sentences were something you weren’t capable of at the moment.

“Use your words princess. Say, yes Katsuki.” His fingers went back to torturing you in between your legs. Each stroke becoming rougher than the last.

“Yes Katsuki.” Those words came out like a moan. The feeling of his hands on you, how he growled with each brush of his finger against your pussy, it was driving you wild. One of his long fingers hooked on the side of your drenched panties, pulling them to the side, exposing your wet cunt to him.

Clenching your fists as you let out a gasp, you felt Bakugou slipped a finger between your folds. Burying his face in your neck you heard him cuss under his breath, giving you praises about how good you felt and he wasn't even in you yet. The man pinning you to the wall started to roll his finger over your hardened clit, sending waves of pleasure surging through your body. You could feel his hard cock against your thigh with each roll of his hip, god did you want that dick in you.

“Oh fuck!” Your body shuddered as he inserted a finger inside of you. You didn’t care how loud you were seeing as how the music in the club would just drown you out.

“God princess you’re so fucking tight.” Bakugou dragged his tongue along your shoulder, before biting down on your neck. You responded by rolling your hips into your hand as he started to move the digit in and out of you at a painfully slow pace.

“More please.” Your mouth was agape, sharp intakes of breaths as he moved. That’s when you felt him add another long finger inside of you. You could feel your walls stretch around his fingers. Bakugou switched between scissoring motions and just moving his fingers against you, pressing on that soft bundle of nerves.

“Look at you,” His fingers started to pick up their pace, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. “I got you fucking whimpering for me and all I’m doing is fucking you with my fingers.” between his words and the speed of his fingers you could feel that familiar tightness forming in the lower part of your abdomen. “I can feel you tightening around my fingers, are you about to cum?”

“C-cum…”

“What was that I couldn’t fucking hear you.” His arm started to move at a speed you were sure was inhuman. It had your toes curling, your nails digging into the palm of your hands.

“I’m gonna cum!” Ready to feel yourself unravel for him, to feel that white flash of release, you closed your eyes. But it never came. Opening your eyes, you watched as he pulled out his fingers from inside your cunt, holding them in front of your face.

“You can’t cum until I say you can.” He ran his tongue over his fingers, cleaning them of your essence. “I want you to cum all over my dick, as I fuck you into this wall.”

You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out, your legs were getting shaky and your arms were numb at this point. You wanted this, to have someone fuck you like this. Using one hand Bakugou undid his belt and button of his pants and unzipped them. Reaching in the front of his pants he pulled out his hardened cock.

Involuntarily swallowing the saliva that gathered in your mouth, you licked your lips. You imagined wrapping your lips around him as he fucked your mouth, making you gag on him. Bakugou could see the hunger in your eyes, and god did he want to do whatever you were thinking of doing but he was going to explode if he didn’t fuck you right now.

Bakugou leaned down, placing his forehead against your own. You could feel the dampness from the light coat of sweat on his forehead mix with your own. His breaths were shallow and deep, lust filled eyes mirrored yours. The noise of the club and people around you seemed to disappear, the only thing that could be heard was your heart beat as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your glistening folds. Bakugou coated his cock with your juices as a lubricant before aligning himself with your entrance.

Slowly he pressed the tip of his cock through the threshold of your pussy. The feeling of your hole stretching around him as he eased his way inside. Bakugou never broke eye contact as moved, letting you see every emotion he went through. How his eyebrows raised, nostrils flared and mouth opened as your pussy engulfed him.

“Oh fuck princess, you feel so fucking good around me.” with a swift thrust he pushed himself the rest of the way, fully sheathing himself inside of you. Arching your back off the wall and whimpering, you could feel his cock twitch as he waited for you to get accustomed to him.

Bakugou let go of your wrists, bringing your arms down and wrapping them around his neck. His right arm came down, grazing his hand down past your ass, bringing it behind your thigh. Gripping your smooth skin, Bakugou hoisted your leg up to his waist allowing him to go in a little deeper, the tip of his cock pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves. With your hands now free from his grip, you clawed at his back. Bakugou growled when he felt your nails dig into his skin. Moving his hips back he snapped them forward, causing you to scream out his name. A sinister smirk played on his lips, enjoying how his name fell from your lips like a mantra. With each thrust of his hips the harder you clawed at his back, he was sure you left scratch marks but he didn’t care.

“You like this don’t you? Getting fucked in the middle of a club, knowing anybody can come over here and see how much of a fucking slut you are.” That knot in your lower abdomen came back as he snarled in your ear. His hand gripping your thigh tightened, Bakugou was using that as leverage, making your body meet his with each thrust. And he was right, the fact that anybody could walk over and see you was exhilarating.

Between Bakugou’s constant biting on your neck and how relentless his thrusts were, you were so close to reaching an orgasm that was surely going to make you see stars.

“Yes right there! I’m gonna cum.” Your hands found purchase in his hair ready for him to send you to the fucking moon.

“Oh no you don’t bitch.” Bakugou halted his movements, his cock was almost pulled out of you. “I told you I need to hear you beg for it.” You looked at him with fire in your eyes. There was no way he could be serious. Wrapping your hoisted leg you went to push his hips forward only to be met with a hand wrapped around your throat.

“I don’t think so. Good girls get to cum princess and all you’ve been was nothing but a brat. So why should I let you cum?” Bakugou had his lips grazing over yours as he spoke, his eyes were showing how serious he was, it sent shivers down your spine. “Now princess let me hear you fucking beg for my cock, for me to let you cum.”

“Please Katsuki let me cum.” You whined as you moved your hips, trying to get friction anything to help you release. “I promise I’ll be good, just please I want to feel you stretch out my pussy. I want to scream your name as I cum all over your dick, please!”

“Now that’s a good fucking girl.” With a sharp snap of his hips, Bakugou drove himself back into you moaning as he did. You had eyes rolling in the back of your head, drool coming down the side of your mouth while screaming his name. All the people near you could get fucked, the way Bakugou made you feel at this moment was all that mattered.

“Holy fuck!” You could feel Bakugou lose his rhythm for a split second and you knew he was close.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.” You had moved to moan in his ear before licking his thick neck and biting on it.

“Cum for me princess.” It came out as a low growl and that's what had sent you over the edge. Screaming his name louder than before you came all over his dick, hands pulling his hair as your body began to convulse.

“Oh shit!” Bakugou pulled out just as white streams of his cum began to spurt out, landing on the lips of your pussy and some on your thighs.

Bakugou had let go of your leg and slightly moved away from you. As soon as your leg hit the ground you felt them give out from under you as you started to tumble forward. Luckley the blonde man had quick reflexes and caught you, helping you lean against the wall.

“Let's get you cleaned up and some water in your system. My office is right upstairs.” Grabbing some napkins from behind the bar Bakugou began to wipe off the reminisce of his cum off your thighs, while pulling down your dress.

“Why didn’t you just take me there to begin with asshole?!” You smacked his arm as you looked around. Some people were staring at the two of you while whispering in their friends' ear

“It’s your fault! No one told you to come in here and get me mesmerized!” He leaned back down to whisper in your ear. “I just couldn’t wait to devour you princess.”

Biting your lip you grabbed his hand pulling him towards the stairs. “Now it’s my turn to devour you, asshole.”

#bnhabookclub #bnhabookclub bingo event #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha #Club au #club owner Bakugou #mha bakugou

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beastsars · 4 years

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idiomatic | louis (beastars) x carnivore!reader

i wont promise that i’m over this trope, but i think i have fed myself enough to focus on other avenues. a few people sent in some legoshi stuff so that’s my next wip. keep them coming.

as usual, more mature content below. some fun times at the masquerade party.

“and what, pray tell, am i to do about these antlers?”

pursing your lips, you gave the stout head ornaments an accusatory look. those with distinctive marking and other decorative characteristics often had the hardest time concealing their species. it was easy enough to distinguish between herbivore and carnivore but the fun was found in simply not caring.

if your target audience put in enough effort to disguise themselves.

parties like these broke both social and sexual boundaries, allowing people to lose inhibition and act on their baser selves. before you met louis, such environments frequently occupied your time off campus. it helped to stimulate your attraction to the opposite dynamic and eventually bribe your courage to seek out a suitable partner.

bringing him here was symbolic of returning to your roots. it would also show him that he wasn’t alone in his affections. not that the sentiment didn’t already hit close to home.

“too bad you’re not about to shed them,” you comment offhandedly, rightfully earning a sharp look of ire. chuffing at the display of pride, you vowed to yourself that you would show the male exactly what such strict dignity led him to lose out on.

patting his muzzle with unveiled condescension, you managed to slip away from his agitated grasp. the deer continued to gripe and moan while you fitted yourself into a choice dress for the evening and prowled the selection of shoes. honestly, the way pursuing beastar felt at ease displaying the less ideal parts of his personality would be endearing if it didn’t possess so much whining.

it hardly mattered. you would give him something else to occupy his attention.

catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you offered the image a self-appreciating wink before stepping out of the closet, one leg protruding ahead of you to show off your finely fitted heels.

“tell me, if i was a herbivore, would you still beg me to bite you?”

the curve of your buttock marked the cut off point of your dress, leaving little to the imagination as the rest of the material hugged your form. this clothing style opted without the aperture to fit a tail, allowing the appendage to swing idly from beneath the depths. it often incited others to perk your mood if only for a brief show.

louis has obviously seen you in less, but the presentation was too pungent with erotic intentions for him to remember anything else. grinning, you permitted his hands to edge the hem of your dress, warm palms marking promises against your thighs.

“and what exactly do you plan to be tonight?” he drawled slowly.

you knew that look. the one that was going to quickly get you out of this dress if you didn’t corral him into his own suit for the night.

pressing a chaste kiss to his nose, you nudged him towards the closet.

“i guess you’ll have to find out.”

you opted to rent out a mask for the evening. this way you could keep your choice hidden for a few moments longer and ideally find something fresh to attend the party in. you had a nice selection at home, but you’d cycled through them enough that somebody would approach you out of familiarity.

upon arriving, you had put louis in the good hands of friends who helpfully escorted him out of your sight and into his own fitting room. but not without complaint as his sputtering curses trailed down the hall.

“he’s a cutie. he yours?”

offering a noncommittal shrug, you settled on a thinner, less intricate mask for the evening. your dress was inviting and memorable enough. in a place like this, it was hard to tell who would challenge a pair.

at the clink of glass against the table, you efficiently down the alcohol and reached for the bottle to chase the burn. sexual prowess aside, you possessed enough restraint to cater accordingly to the opposite disposition. it was more for the eased minds than anything else.

“you’ll have your hands full keeping females and males alike off of him. he’s a built boy. anyone would love to see what he’s packing,” there was a tease to the voice but desire had a place too. you doubted it would take long for subtlety to be washed out. proprietary didn’t exactly have a place here.

polishing off the rest your your drink, you made an effort to pat down any remaining wrinkles before donning your mask. “well, i better get to him quickly then.”

“it’s rather delicate. made of papier mache ,i think. do be careful, it’s borrowed.”

his words of warning were no match for your inquisitive touch, however, as you stretched up against his body to prod against the medium surrounding his antlers.

they’d fashioned him as a moose of all things.

you didn’t know how you hadn’t thought of it. but truly, it was the of the few options available to at least conceal his dominant species. without the stench of alcohol anyone would know he was a herbivore, but at least this way he would abide by the base rules.

the covering of his antlers was more of an addition than part of the mask. the inner workings using his antlers as a statue to hang the camouflage over. it was rather convincing.

when the costume creaked threateningly at your touch, louis’ hand shot up to snag your wrist.

“i said it’s fragile,” he insisted.

the hiss of his voice encouraged your gaze to drop to his mask to give it it’s own appreciation. it was certainly wider than his own face, marginally longer too, to account for the massive beast he was portraying. coupled with his slim but muscled body, even beneath the suit, he was likely to garner some provocative attention. it was a shame you had to break some many hearts openly tonight.

humming an octave lower than your usual voice, you pressed yourself against the male with your arms around his waist. chin propped against his chest, you offered a cheeky grin.

“so what do you think?”

forced to enter from the back due to his identifiable features, he’d wasn’t awarded to opportunity to take in the scenery. the night was young and tame as most of the individuals simply mingled and broke ice. you wondered how long it would take for habits to surface.

“it seems like any other social event,” he muttered distractedly. he was likely trying the mundane task of attempting to unveil species from beneath their masks. everyone fell privy to the game sooner or later.

louis palmed at your side,” more importantly, why do you smell so strongly of intoxication.”

“trade off of being a carnivore, unfortunately. herbivores feel safest when we’re too drunk off our asses to pull rank.” rising to toes you spoke with conspiracy in his ear while your free hand trailed down his midline. “personally, i think they just want to take advantage.”

the male didn’t take too kindly to being groped in public, quickly seizing your other hand as he hissed. “it seems they're not the only ones.”

unable to resist laughing, you let him have the control while it lasted. “baby, you have no idea.”

despite your best efforts, more than a few figures approached you in greeting. without the pleasantries of names, most of the conversation was geared towards speculative tastes and pillars of society. already trained in the practice small talk, louis led more of the conversation than he followed. his strong nature captured a majority of the attention anyway with his passionate disposition towards the arts.

sipping idly at something fruity, you leaned comfortably into his arm as your gaze wandered the party. as the night wore on, it was beginning to grow as more individuals showed up fashionably late. the amount of alcohol had doubled to accommodate as more trays made rounds. they naturally gravitated towards the carnivores more, no one ever having to reach more than an arms length for a glass.

louis laughed earnestly next to you, the pads of his fingers tracing odd shapes on your back as he transitioned smoothly into another topic. he seemed to be handling it all much better than you expected but the real festivities had hardly begun.

the moment the conversation began to veer towards the more illicit ventures of business, you politely excused yourselves to a less occupied corner of the room. dragging louis down by your grip at his elbow, you fell back eagerly into the plush couches.

“you seem to be enjoying yourself at least,” you mentioned as you leaned down to massage the muscle above the cut of your heel. your departure had a dual purpose as you really just need a moment off your feet. as exquisite as your shoes were, they rarely offered much comfort.

you hadn’t even realized that louis hadn’t even acknowledged your response as you switched to the other foot and ultimately debated taking them off while you rested. it certainly wouldn’t be the most unsightly proposition. eyes sliding shut, you leaned back again. maybe a few more drinks would change your mind about your less than ideal clothing choices.

at the sudden tension of muscle beneath you, your gaze snapped open to assess the problem.

“are they?”

from his broken articulation alone, you had an inclination of what was transpiring. you were wondering how long it would take.

humming delightfully from your position curled up against him, you followed his gaze across the room to a pair who decided to take initiative to properly get the get together started. clothing strewn this way and that, the left nothing to the imagination as they rutted against one another.

louis shuddered as your claw teased the fastens of his suit jacket but you didn’t go as far to pry the button from its place. in a situation like this, he was no better than a virgin and likely as easily frightened if approached wrong. not that it would stop you from proding.

“lou, you feel so warm. are you embarrassed?”

unable to help himself, the stag stuttered in his speech.” they’re practically mating in public.”

“ are mating in public,” you chided unhelpfully.

this was nothing new for you to partake in. with each new realization from louis as he experienced your world with naive eyes, it made you head buzz from the thrill of it all. you leaned away from him long enough to snag a floating flute from the hovering attendant. it wasn’t as strong as what you’d knocked down prior but hopefully it would be enough to ease some of the tension from his shoulders.

nibbling at the exposed tuffs of his ears, you prompted him to drink. seemingly grateful for the distraction the male downed the champagne without a second thought.

he really was such a bundle of nerves.

ignoring his startled grapple at your sides, you lifted a leg over his lap and settled on top of him. your body didn’t offer much of a shield, but your weight was enough of a diversion.

by partaking in the drink, he’d solved the mystery of where the mouthpiece of his mask for you. with confidence, you were able to tilt up his head and slot your mouths together. he resists at first, the protest only give you the opening to slide your tongue between his lips.

you moan eagerly and vocally, utilizing your own sounds to drown out the commotion behind you. you capture his bottom lips between your teeth, swallowing the sweet taste of his gasp as you test him by grinding softly. the pinch of his fingers don’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t try to stop it either.

breaking away with a harsh pant of your own, you make a slow effort of loosening the buttons of his jacket, giving him every opportunity to escape the proposition.

“this is why i brought you here, lou.”

his grip at your hips pulsed like a heartbeat, fluctuating in intensity as he traded glances between you and the moving bodies around you. it generally only took one couple to take the plunge for the others to follow suit.

the wide room was starting to truly burst with life, coating the walls with a lustful aura. masks of all shapes and sizes engaging in causal conversation while observing the unhurried fucking of others as if in a pristine museum.

you let him keep the jacket on to give him some sort of protection, still mindful of his frazzled psych as you left chaste kisses along his neck.

“what? so i’d fuck you in public?” learning from his dramatic prose on stage, louis seemed to be snatching at all of his talents to compose himself. you snatched yet another flute of something more colorful this time, tipping against his lips without warning to bring his attention back to your small corner.

“not that . if you pay attention, you’d see they aren’t unlike us.”

latching your lips back to his throat, you mouthed your words as the glass trembled against his.

“see that ox and flamingo over there? the first is a mountain goat, i can’t pinpoint the species but i recognize the stance. and the pretty little thing he has bent over the banister, a lynx- see, there’s her cute little tail wagging.” your nose traces his jaw. “herbivores and carnivores sharing heated passion without ostracization. it’s not just a kink, louis, it’s a lifestyle.”

you can see the moment the clarity parts the clouds of his cognition. gone is the speculation as he comes to terms with the hidden intentions of your invitation. it was rare that you did anything subtly with him, he often having ot maintain propriety.

there were obviously other factors staked against either of you going public with your relationship, the most prominent lighting a slow spark toward the eventual dissolution of your arrangement. but he had never really thought past his own adoration of you. by now it was beyond the scope of just the sexual nature/ yet without positive societal examples,, he was often left scrambling with labeling his feelings.

while this-gathering to say the least- wasn’t the best example to base his own experiences on as he took it all in, it wasn’t hard to see where the stark black and white began to blur.

leave it to you to utilize the most extreme to make a point.

louis surprised you then by breaking his inner monologue and fitting his hand against the smooth column of your throat. his hold much more self-assured than before. the gradual change shot straight to your core as you wriggled.

“but you didn’t answer me.” the hold pulls your mouth away as he forcefully captures your attention this time. there is no doubt that most of his valor is a product of the mask, no different than the one he wears on stage. but your relative appreciate drew together more likeness between the two than you were willing to admit. louis always put so much effort in commanding an audience that he rarely was able to admire how effortlessly he was able to do so with you.

“a lot a pretty words when the truth of it all was just that you wanted to bring me here to make a show out of yourself.” louis felt his own arousal spike as the truth of the statement struck him as well. “you want them all to see how much you love to take it from a herbivore.”

you answer with a hasty nod, breathing hitching under the restraint you’d functioned with until now. “please, lou. dominate me.”

it doesn’t take you long to adopt your shameless nature, hips undulating and grinding your core against his swelling erection. you still try to appeal to louis more kept disposition though, sliding close and sliding your hand between the gap to rub friction circles against the junction of his pants.

unable to resist teasing, you press the pad of your thumb against the tented head. “what a bad boy you’re being lou lou too. and you always accuse me of being the dirty slut.”

despite the natural restriction of his vocals, louis manages to growl, a flash of ire behind the mask. you arch as his hand wiggles under your dress, easily finishing your soiled undergarments and tucking them to the side. he slides two fingers home to the third knuckle without preamble.

“look at you, you’re even wetter than when we’re at home. you say this was for me, but look how shameless you are.” he starts to pump them in and out slowly, and you answer with a voluntary roll of your hips. he was right. you were desperate for him but the hardly changed given the setting or audience.

squeezing his shoulder for balance, you melt into a purring moan as his fingers curl within your depths. it takes more effort than it should to break your own trace to escape the pleasure enough to fumble with his zipper. louis exhales a long shuddering breath as your fingers close around him. you’re both ready without the threat of prematurity, riding on the exhilaration of the environment.

a shuddering sigh shatters the tension building within your throat as he replaces his fingers with his cock, dragging you down to take every inch of him until you’re sitting at the base. he doesn’t even reprimand you when you instinctively reach for his antlers, the thin paper crinkling under your touch as rotate you himself to ride the stuff arousal.

you were vaguely aware of your small circle being encroached on by observing parties. more grateful than anything that louis appeared to be more focused on you than their presence- a choked gasp scrambled from your lips as he brought you down in forceful thrust, a keen whine following.

when you tried to find his gaze, you found that it wasn’t even on you. the glassy haze flickering behind you around the room, holding a lazy challenge to any and every figure. it fed into the thrill to know he was getting off on the audience as much as you were.

louis pace was sloppy, but expected given the mixed influence of alcohol, your body and room around him. it all came together in the thickest mixture of lust either of you had had the privilege of sharing.

“you’re so beautiful. the world deserves to see you like this.”

a hasty nod of agreement is all you can manage, because the weight of his grounding hips and pounding thrusts are tearing away your grip on reality. you feel a piece of the mache tear away with your claws as you shudder around the drag of his cock as it sends you spiraling into release.

louis rides your aftershocks, succumbing to your quaking thighs and fluttering walls as you both collapse beneath the weight of your combined climax.

you fall forward against his chest, hiding all evidence of your joining as you soak in the thick musk. around you bodies shift again, their muttered compliment sticking to your body as they transition to the next showing. the two of you stay like that for a long moment, rising off the expansion of the others chest as you slowly collect yourselves.

curling your face into the side of his neck, you lapped gently, snickering when he twitched you’re life within your depths. pressing a kiss there you eventually manage to prop yourself up again.

“well the night’s still young and i see you’re up for another round. let’s give them their moneys worth.”

#beastars x reader #louis beastars x reader #beastars headcanon #beastars imagines

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falsehoodx · 4 years

Note

You should make some Headcanons about what sides are most likely to vape and what kinds they use and stuff 😂 I don’t vape so I don’t know a lot but I think that would be funny 😂

I BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

i’m gonna put a trigger warning for vaping, drinking, smoking, and hard drugs right here.

logan

logan smokes different strains of weed for different purposes. he smokes cinex sativa to stay focused and calm if work is stressing him out too much. for recreation, he smokes white widow, a hybrid that’s known to make you laugh. he likes having a heightened sense of joy when everyone is chillin together. he owns a black pen and an opaque navy blue bowl, but he prefers edibles because of their minimized effects on the lungs. he doesnt vape and rarely drinks. when he does drink, he prefers beer and plain vodka and usually doesnt get much past tipsy. he is usually a sleepy and bitter drunk if he’s not crossed. he will occasionally smoke a cigar if he’s drunk enough but usually regrets it because theyre so bad for you.

roman

roman’s substance of choice is alcohol. hes kind of a slutty and excitable drunk and can often be found dancing on tables and just generally being the life of the party. he loves fruity vodkas. his favorites are mango pineapple svedka and new amsterdam’s pink whitney (my personal favorite 😌). he’s also into malibu. he doesn’t really like carbonated drinks so if he’s not taking shots he mixes with lemonade, iced tea, cranberry juice, pineapple juice or anything else in his fridge that’s fruity. he has a vast collection of shot glasses including a rainbow glittery one, one that says “fuck my liver”, a set of tiny mason jars with handles, and a white one that says “cheers bitches” in pink cursive. he also has a collection of holiday specific shot glasses and wine glasses for various holidays such as christmas, halloween, new years, valentines day and st. patricks day. for more casual drinking, he drinks mike’s hards lemonades (his favorite is the strawberry obviously) and twisted teas, as well as all types of wine though his preference is rosé. he occasionally buys a fruity puffbar or budvape for a night out, in which case he chooses blue razzberry, cotton candy or banana. weed makes him paranoid so he doesn’t smoke, but has hit logan’s pen a few times when he was drunk because he doesn’t mind being crossed.

patton

like roman, patton is into fruity drinks, although he’s not that into shots because he doesnt like the feeling. he likes canned or bottled drinks, like white claw, truly, mike’s and twisted teas. enjoys beer, will not admit this. he’s not as much of a drinker as roman is, but is a cuddly, giggly, happy drunk. he gets very touchy. occasionally hits one of the others’ vapes when he’s drunk if it’s a flavor he likes. he likes weed but will only smoke the strains that make him calm and giggly. if he hits one of logan’s focus strains, he usually has a bad high so tends to avoid it. he doesnt really like being crossed so he picks either alcohol or weed for the night. he has a subscription to a cigar company that sends him flavored cigars. during the christmastime, you can often find patton in a big ugly christmas sweater smoking a cinnamon cigar watching the snow fall at night time. he smokes cigars roughly 2-4 times a month.

virgil

virgil hates alcohol, he found out very early on that it makes him throw up and shake and feel cold. but he is an avid vaper and stoner. weed of pretty much any strain helps him calm down. he has two pens, one with a galaxy skin and one with a tye dye skin that has a little marijuana leaf pattern all over it. he has five bowls of various colors and designs. he can roll a fat joint in under a minute. if youre lucky, he might have a backwood or two. he has a marbled purple bong. if he’s not smoking for fun, he usually smokes before bed every night so he can go to sleep without his thoughts gettin too loud. as for vaping, he has a rainbow lava (this is the one i have in mind), a matte black suorin drop, and a purple JuNo. his favorite flavors are mint, berry and grape ice. he doesnt often buy disposables but when he does, he likes the lush ice and honeydew hydes.

janus

janus drinks almost exclusively dark liquor. scotch and whiskey are his favorites. he also occasionally enjoys rum, tequila and bacardi. he drinks his liquor straight out of a short glass with ice. he will drink wine, but only red wine. he is an extremely composed drunk, the kind where you literally cant tell if he’s wasted or sober unless he tells you straight up. he has a juul but doesnt ever really use it. he will smoke weed, but only if the others are doing it. he usually gets pretty quiet when he’s high. while the others are all cracking up, he usually just chuckles a little. the only time you can ever really tell that janus is fucked up is when he’s crossed. he loses all his inhibitions and speedruns every emotion ever. like one minute he’s howling laughing, the next he’s screaming crying, the next he’s dancing on the table shirtless with roman. he smokes cigarettes but the only other person who knows is virgil, and he begs him not to tell the others. he has tried coke with remus but it didnt really do it for him.

remus

this one is long because i have a lot to cover. i feel like i shouldnt even have to say this put remus abuses all of these substances. remus will drink whatever is put in front of him. dark or light. in fact, the others usually have to stop him from mixing dark and light so he doesnt throw up. the kind of person who will purposefully not eat all day so that the drunk hits him harder at night. knows every drinking game in the book and WILL beat you at all of them. sometimes he loses on purpose so he can chug the bitch cup if the game happens to include one. super energetic drunk, screams, falls into things, flirts with everything with a pulse. if you dont put him to bed he will simply stay up until 7am when he passes out on the pong table. facetimes all of his contacts. the kind of person to go to the bathroom, pull trig, come back downstairs and take more shots. alcohol is definitely his favorite. he has a green lava and vapes almost every day, somehow he’s genuinely not addicted, virgil is jealous. he knows every vape trick in the book. virgil taught him the ones he knows, but the rest he either figured out himself or looked up on youtube. he vapes any flavor but prefers pineapple (gross) and tobacco (also gross. these are the grossest flavors i could think of). as for weed, he likes it the most when he’s drunk because he loves being crossed. he will randomly swipe virgil’s bong and tries to hide the fact that he’s high but he’ll be sitting at breakfast with bloodshot eyes asking patton if pancakes have feelings and everyone knows whats goin on. he has also tried hard drugs like coke, molly, and acid but he’s only done them once or twice. he does shrooms roughly once every two months.

#I ENJOYED THIS VERY MUCH BUT I SPENT LIKE AN HOUR ON IT SO PLEASE SHOW IT SOME LOVE #tw vaping #tw smoking #tw weed #tw alcohol #tw drinking #tw nicotine #tw addiction #tw hard drugs #i think that about covers it lmao #logan #roman #patton #virgil #remus #ava babbles #ask

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years

Text

Nothing to Lose (1/2)

A/N: On the 9th day of Christmas, your true love broke up with you. Oh, Billy...whatever will I do with you, sir?! (This is not connected to ISY or Jigsaw.)

Word Count: 1,914 (g a s p - a short one?! )

Prompt from: anonymous

“Woah there... have a little eggnog with your rum”

“Ho-Ho-Hold on one minute there, Santa.”

“Ho-Ho-Hold on one minute there, Santa!” Maria quipped from the living room as laughter led by her husband erupted among the last few guests to the annual Christmas Eve bash. Frank had no doubt been taking advantage of the mistletoe, the several beers he’d consumed loosening his inhibitions and getting him in the holiday spirit. How can they just… how do they act like things are normal when… Billy tipped the bottle, freely pouring a measure and a half of the amber liquid into his already spiked beverage. The clink of glass on glass as the spout knocked against the rim of his cup made him wince. He was much more drunk than he liked to be, and he was trying to act like he wasn’t as he continued to drown his latest regret. Squinting, he felt his forehead wrinkle up, deep creases of concentration cutting through his skin as he made an immense effort not to spill the Captain Morgan on Maria’s white carpet. Don’t fuck this up, too, asshole. He set the bottle back down on the folding table that had been set up as a drink station, licking his lips as he twisted the cap back on. Spinning it tight, he pinched his fingertip between the top and the strip of aluminum that was left over after the seal had been broken on the bottle. The jagged edge of the perforated piece bit into the pad of his finger just hard enough to cut him. Bringing it to his lips, he sucked the blood from the thin line that sliced through the print on his pointer finger, then rubbed it off on his dark jeans before gripping his glass with his other hand and knocking back a long swig.

“Woah there…” A warm, honeyed voice came from somewhere over his shoulder as the spiced rum burned all the way down his throat. “Have some eggnog with your rum there, Bill.” Maria came around from behind him, one hand on his back and a laugh lifting her voice as she smiled at him. Reaching for his glass, she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it gently from his grasp.

“Hey, what are you-” Billy mumbled, even as he let her take it away from him. It was the right call, and he knew it. It stopped being eggnog three rounds ago anyway.

Maria looked from his disheveled appearance- the way his eyes were struggling to find one thing to focus on, the red tint to his usually fair complexion, the few strands of hair that fell over his forehead that he hadn’t bothered to push back into place- to the contents of the glass that she’d just relieved him of. She frowned, tilting her head to the side as Frank’s booming laughter from the next room overpowered the festive music that had been playing all night. “Billy,” she set his glass down on the drink table among the empty liquor bottles and the ice bucket,containing mostly water now. “What’s goin’ on, huh?”

Billy stared at the glass, watching as a bead of condensation dripped down the side of it, the way your tears had rolled down your cheek the last time he saw you.

“Billy,” your voice sounded foriegn from the way that he’d hurt you, your bottom lip quivering like he knew you hated as salt streaks ran down your face. “Billy, what’s...why are you sayin’ that?” You took an uneven breath that knocked the air from his lungs.

His throat was dry, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as his heart raged at his ribs. He ached to hold you, hating himself for what he was putting you through. It’s better this way. He looked through you, targeting the clock over your shoulder as he sucked enough saliva together to unstick his tongue. “I’m sayin’ I’m shippin’ out soon and I wanna leave this...you... here.” He swallowed again, preparing himself to look you in the eye as he continued, “I don’t wanna take you with me.” He shook his head, his coal black eyes set firmly on yours. The lights on your Christmas tree blinked on and off in the background, gifts that would remain unopened tucked beneath it. “Can’t bring any baggage with me,” he shrugged, the action actually causing him physical pain.

You let out a burst of air that would have been a laugh had he not just broken your heart three days before Christmas and only two weeks before he was headed back overseas to one of World’s most dangerous places. “Is that what I am, Billy?” You asked, eyebrows arching high in disbelief as you tried to steady the involuntary sobs that were fighting to free themselves from your chest. “Just…” you raised one hand, letting it drop to your thigh. “Just baggage you can…” you wiped at your eye with the back of your hand, smearing your makeup off towards your temple. Billy had to stop himself from stepping closer and swiping the smudge away with his thumb as he’d done whenever he’d seen you cry before. “You want to leave me behind, Billy?” There was hardly anything left to your voice as you asked the question.

“Billy?” Maria called his name again, placing both of her hands on his biceps and moving herself into his eyeline. He looked away from the glass to meet her concerned expression. Dropping her hands, she sighed. “Does this,” she cocked her head to the drink table, “have anything to do with the fact that you showed up alone tonight, when you told us that you’d be bringing-”

“I had to, Maria,” he cut her off before she could say your name. She pressed her lips together, letting her shoulders fall. Billy sniffed, finally tucking the few loose strands of hair back into order. “I can’t…” he sighed, shaking his head as his eyebrows came together, clamping both hands behind his neck. “Goddamnit, Maria, how’do you...you’n Frankie, how’dyou…” How do you let each other go every time? The door had opened and shut in the background as the last of the guests left the party.

The music stopped mid song, and Frank appeared seconds later, one hand each on the backs of his half sleeping childrens’ heads. “Alright, I got your brother a cab because he was plastered, and-” He stopped, right hand jutting out to guide Junior away from the wall he was about to walk into. He looked over at Maria and Billy, his smile leaving his face from the eyes down. “Everything good in here, Bill?”

Maria looked up at Billy sympathetically before reaching forward to squeeze his hand. She turned to her husband and gave him a small smile, letting go of Billy’s palm. “Why don’t I get these two sleepy heads off to bed?” She crossed the room to kiss Frank on the cheek before he turned his head to press his lips to hers, noses touching as he pulled away with a nod. “Okay,” Maria said softly, taking Lisa and Junior under each arm and leading them to their bedrooms.

Frank walked over to his friend, grabbing an empty glass from the drink table and pouring himself a drink. He passed the glass that Maria had confiscated back to Billy, tapping his against it as soon as Billy had a firm enough grasp on it. Both men took a drink, Billy coming up a few seconds later as he drained the remainder of his glass. He coughed as Frank took another smaller sip. “You gonna talk or should I guess?” Frank finally asked as Billy contemplated the bottom of his now empty glass. Frank clicked his tongue. “Okay, I’ll guess.” He said your name, and Billy’s eyes snapped up. “Uh huh. Thought so. So,” Frank took another drink, leaning against the doorframe separating the kitchen and dining room. Billy pulled a chair out from clunky set in the middle of the room and sat, hanging his head between his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. “You broke up with her, didn’t you?”

Billy nodded without looking up from the floor. He’d tried to keep it together for most of the night, making jokes and brushing off your absence from the party everytime one of his and Frank’s buddies asked where you were. He passed out the few gifts he’d gotten the Castle family with a forced smile on his face, knowing that he would have been lost had it not been for your help picking out the perfect presents. But as the night wore on he found it harder and harder to accept the fact that he wanted nothing more than to have you there, and that he was the only reason that you weren’t. It’s for the best...isn’t it? He tore his eyes from the grain in the hardwood and looked up at his brother. “I had to, Frankie, I…” he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how to…”

“She loves you, Bill.” Billy sucked in a breath. Neither of you had used that word, but he’d felt it in the way you looked at him, the way you listened to him, the way you always wanted to be near him. Frank put his glass down and crossed his arms over his chest, nodding at the stunned way that Billy’s mouth had fallen open. “Yeah. Don’t ask me why or how,” he said. “It’s the same with Maria, you know?” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “It’s just… there, yeah?”

Yeah. But I fucking…I… “How do you...how do you know it’s enough, Frank?” He asked, finally able to put it into words. “How do you know it’s strong enough...all the shit we do...the shit we get done to us…” He winced, recalling the time he took a nasty shot to the abdomen, one of the only lucid thoughts he could remember having being a thankfulness that he wouldn’t be leaving anyone behind had he died in the desert that night. But now… Now he did have someone to leave behind, and he was trying to make the choice before it could be made for him. Better she hate me than mourn me.

Frank tipped his chin in Billy’s direction. “‘Cause look at yourself without her, Bill.” He let out a burst of air. “You’re a goddamn mess, Russo.”

Billy couldn’t argue there. He’d been living with a dull hum in his head since he left you crying in front of your Christmas tree two days ago.

“Look,” Frank relaxed his stance, uncrossing his arms and changing his tone. “I know you’ve had it rough, Bill. Rougher than most.” Frank was one of the smallest groups of people on Earth- the people that Billy talked about his past with. So small, in fact, that the only other member was you. “Don’t make it even harder on yourself. When good things fall in your lap, don’t chase ‘em away.”

“Too late,” he mumbled, blinking at the floor again.

“I dunno,” Frank shrugged and checked his watch. “Ain’t midnight yet. Still Christmas Eve… What’dya got to lose?”

Billy stood suddenly, the room spinning only slightly as he did. He had no idea if you were home, or if you’d open the door if you were, or if anything he could say to you would fix what he’d done.

But he knew he had to try.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices @obscurilicious @traeumerinwitzhelden @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @breanime @nananananananananananabatman @lexxierave @songforhema @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @stories-you-wont-hear @luminex3 @ificouldhelpyouforget

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tags!

#billy russo #12 days of christmas fics #billy russo x you #billy russo x reader #frank castle #maria castle #oh billy #i hope it's not too late

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puckinghell · 5 years

Note

For the song blurb thing, could you please do “take it from me” by jordan davis for carter hart.

Another country man I adore! Why did this turn out so long someone teach me how to write blurbs

—

“You know, we could just go home,” Carter had said on the way to Nolan’s afterparty, and all he’d needed was one look at the way your face lit up at his suggestion to tell the Uber driver to turn it around.

You like Nolan, and Travis, and, well, everyone on Carter’s team, really. But you’d already spent all night with them at the bar and when they decided to go back to Nolan’s place after the bar closed, all you really wanted to do was go home.

With Carter.

But that wasn’t really your right to ask of him, not when he was nothing more than a friend; a friend you had a major crush on, maybe, but still just a friend. And if he wanted to go hang out with his teammates, you considered yourself lucky to even be invited, so you really weren’t gonna make demands.

However, he’d offered. So surely it wasn’t your fault.

When he said “go home”, you thought he’d meant he’d go home to his house and you’d go home to yours, but now the Uber is stopping in front of Carter’s apartment complex and he holds out his hands after jumping out the car.

“I’ve got chocolate ice cream and a full season of The Office downloaded on Netflix,” Carter says, sending you a little grin. “I think our afterparty is gonna be a lot more fun.”

You’re definitely a little tipsy - people kept buying you beers at the bar, and it’s rude to say no to drinks - and when you get out of the car you stumble. Carter reacts fast, his hands grabbing your hips to steady you, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Come on,” he smiles, keeping his hands on his back as he starts pushing you towards the elevator. He’s not drunk at all and it’s almost annoying how good he still looks after 4 hours at a dingy bar; you’re pretty sure you smell like beer and smoke and your hair, that you’d so perfectly curled before, is one big mess. Even the clothes you’re wearing are starting to feel uncomfortable.

Carter notices, because he’s always paying attention; you’re not sure if he’s always paying attention to you or just in general, but the second you fall down onto his couch he disappears into the bedroom and comes back out with one of his T-shirts.

“You want this?” he asks, and you take it gratefully.

It’s basically a dress on you and your jeans are a little tight, so you decide to take them off. You wouldn’t normally do that, but, well, the alcohol took your inhibitions.

When you come back out, music is softly playing in the living room. Carter is sitting on the couch and when he sees you, his eyes widen slightly.

“This shirt is so soft,” you tell him, padding towards his kitchen on bare feet to grab yourself a glass of water. “I might have to steal it.”

“Take it,” he says instantly, a bit too quickly maybe. It’s one of his favorites but if losing it means he gets to see you in it again, he’s ready to let it go.

You reach for the cupboard where you knows he keeps his non-nutritionist-approved snacks, and grab a packet of chocolate chip cookies. The song that’s on is one you love a lot, and you find yourself humming along, softly moving your hips to the beat.

You don’t notice Carter coming in until two strong hands grab your sides.

“Are you eating my cookies?”

“I’m doing you a favor,” you say wisely. “Aren’t you supposed to eat green leaves and chicken only, mr. Athlete?”

He chuckles in your ear and you feel his chest pressing up against your back slightly. It’s enough to send your stomach into knots and you duck under his arm, giggling as you run away from him.

“You’re not taking my cookies from me,” you threaten him.

“Your cookies?” he repeats. He’s standing in the door between the hallway and the living room, blocking the exit, and you’re using the coffee table as a barrier.

Not that he couldn’t just step over that with his stupid long legs, but, well, you’re not thinking that logically.

“You’re stealing those from me!” He takes a step closer and you take a step back, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you stuff another cookie in your mouth. He growls and launches forward, reaching you within two steps and grabbing your wrist with one hand. You try to move the cookies to your other hand but he’s already there, tearing them away from you and holding them in the air.

“That’s not fair,” you whine, because it’s not. He’s so much taller than you, how are you supposed to get them back? “Please, Cart, give me the cookies, I’ll buy you new ones. I’ll paypal you a dollar for them. Just don’t take them away from me! I’ll literally die!”

Drunk you is maybe a teeny tiny bit dramatic.

Carter giggles then, and his arm drops, the cookies entering your reach again.

“Whatever I have to give, you can take it from me.” His voice is a little more serious than the mood calls for and suddenly you realize how close you are to him; your chest is pressed up against his and his hand is still tightly wrapped around your wrist, his face within mere inches of yours.

If you just pushed up on your tiptoes, you could kiss him. And you want to. You want to so badly, and you’re not thinking clearly, and suddenly the words fall from your lips.

“Even a kiss?”

His eyes darken at your statement and he’s not smiling anymore, the joking mood vanished from the room. Doubts are starting to take residence in the pit of your stomach before you even finish the sentence, but they don’t get a lot of time to manifest because Carter speaks.

“Take it.”

And so you kiss him. Softly at first, carefully, not sure if he meant it, but he deepens the kiss right away, hands slipping under your - well, his - shirt, and you know then that it doesn’t matter what he wants - the cookies back, or your heart - he can take it from you, if only he’ll just keep kissing you.

#carter hart #blurb #nhl imagine #philadephia flyers #Anonymous #song blurb

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cinema-tv-etc · 4 years

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Review: ‘The Comey Rule’ and What a Fool Believes

Showtime’s political drama is a scattered but searing picture of failed self-righteousness. By James Poniewozik Sept. 24, 2020

The thing that James Comey will probably like best about “The Comey Rule,” if one believes its characterization of him, is that his name is in the title.

But he is not exactly the hero. He is not even, really, the star.

Comey (Jeff Daniels), the former F.B.I. director, gets more screen time than anyone else in Showtime’s two-night, three-and-a-half-hour special. But the real lead is Donald Trump (Brendan Gleeson), in the same sense that, regardless of its minutes on camera, the true lead of “Jaws” is the shark.

Given how much it rehashes recent events, albeit with a fine cast, I’m not sure what interest “The Comey Rule” will have beyond people whose copies of the Mueller Report are already well thumbed. (There’s more to be learned from “Agents of Chaos,” the chilling Alex Gibney documentary, which premiered on HBO this week, about Russia’s 2016 election influence campaign and its American enablers.)

But if you stick to the end, there is at least a lesson and a warning, if not the one that Comey — either the screen version here or the real-life one who’s become a media figure — intended.

In his book “A Higher Loyalty,” he appears to see his decisions, which very possibly swung the 2016 election and failed to keep the president from interfering in investigations, as noble if tragic acts of principle. As translated by the director and screenwriter Billy Ray, this is instead a slo-mo horror story, in which the worst lack all inhibition while the best are full of fatuous integrity.

The first half, which starts Sunday, is basically a prelude. It walks us through the role of the F.B.I. in 2015 and 2016 when it investigated Hillary Clinton’s use of a private email server — with Comey making unusual public statements that damaged her campaign — while also looking, much more quietly, into increasingly disturbing signs that Russian intelligence was out to help Trump.

The first two hours blitz through the timeline and establish key players. So many familiar faces captioned with headline names pop up — Jonathan Banks as James Clapper! Holly Hunter as Sally Yates! — that it plays like a long, stone-cold-sober episode of “Drunk History.”

Daniels is inspired casting. Physically, he resembles the real Comey somewhat in stature (the ex-director still has a few inches on him). But having played figures of high-minded duty in “The Newsroom” and “The Looming Tower,” he captures his character’s starched righteousness wholly.

This time, however, there’s an ironic spin on the character. Comey’s actual rectitude is complicated by his fixation on the appearance of rectitude, his homey decency by smugness.

His precedent-breaking decisions to speak out on Clinton’s email practices were driven by worry over how he and the bureau would look later if — in his view, when — she became president. (He writes in “A Higher Loyalty” that he assumed she’d win.)

His guess proves wrong, but the day after the election he assures his devastated wife, Patrice (Jennifer Ehle), “We’re going to be OK.” True enough for him. He lost his job but wrote a best seller.

With that self-justifying memoir as a source, Ray makes the sharp choice to make Rod Rosenstein (Scoot McNairy), the deputy attorney general who wrote the memo recommending Comey’s 2017 firing, the quasi-narrator. Rosenstein bitterly introduces Comey as a self-righteous “showboat” (though, we discover, Rosenstein has his own blind spots and failings).

This is not, however, a production out to win over MAGA viewers. (At one point, it dramatizes one of the more eye-popping accusations of the Steele dossier.) The first night, we see Donald Trump only as shot from behind, a leering hulk parting the curtain at a Miss Universe pageant and pawing at a contestant’s bikini strap. He’s like the barely glimpsed monster in the first act of a creature feature, a rough beast slouching toward Pennsylvania Avenue.

It’s on Night 2, when President-Elect Trump emerges as a character, that the show really begins. In part, it’s simply that his crew of artless amateurs, relatives and B-list pols make for better TV. Not every portrayal works — Joe Lo Truglio as Jeff Sessions? — but it gives the proceedings a “Burn After Reading” flair.

But mostly, Gleeson kicks the program to life. Strictly as an impression, his performance is mixed. Gleeson, who is Irish, slips occasionally on the accent. But his rendering of Trump’s wandering diction is the best I’ve seen outside a lip-sync. Half his performance is in his bearing, chin jutted forward like the prow of a swollen yacht.

More important, Gleeson has a thorough idea of his character. His Trump is not the orange-haired clown prince of “S.N.L.” and late-night talk shows. He’s a crass, heavy-breathing mobster (Comey’s comparison, and Gleeson makes the likeness vivid) driven by spite and vanity. A heavy-handed musical score portends menace whenever he turns up.

He, too, is concerned with appearances, but in a more literal way than Comey. His version of “good morning” is “I saw you on TV”; he and his staffers keep referencing his “eye for interior design.” His brassy presence in the halls of power is as much an aesthetic statement as a political one, which Ray underlines by showing a White House staffer serving him a Filet-O-Fish sandwich on a gleaming silver platter.

All the while, it gradually settles on Comey that his new boss may not be an entirely scrupulous man. Their White House dinner — the “honest loyalty” scene, for Comey buffs — takes only a few minutes, but you could imagine it as an entire movie, “Frost/Nixon” style.

It’s like an uncomfortable date with a persistent suitor. Trump, cleaning out his ice-cream dish, pushes and prods on the Russia investigation, pressing his advances. A pained Comey guards and parries, finding ways to say things that resemble what the president wants to hear.

Comey survives that battle but loses the war. “The Comey Rule” is not out to damn him. It strains itself to sympathize with his falling into one impossible position after another, and it suggests that public life might be better if everyone in it were like James Comey.

But it also shows how catastrophically inadequate he was to a world in which not everyone is like James Comey. He becomes a stand-in for an entire class of Trump-era elites who believe that respect for norms will save them. (The president “can’t fire me,” Comey tells an associate. “It’d look horrible.”)

As for Donald Trump, he’s not precisely the villain, in the show’s view. As “The Comey Rule” depicts him, he’s a creature, an appetite. He is what he is. He doesn’t know how to be otherwise.

Comey, on the other hand, is, if not a villain, then a tragic, hubristic dupe, precisely because he believes he knows better, and because he should.

“The Comey Rule” is not good drama; it’s clunky, self-serious and melodramatic. But it makes an unsparing point amid our own election season.

It says that anyone, like its subject, who complacently assumed in 2015 and 2016 that everyone would be fine, who thought that propriety and rules could constrain forces that care about neither, who worried more about appearances than consequences, was a fool.

Then it leaves you to sit with the question: What does that make anyone who still believes that today?

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/09/24/arts/television/review-comey-rule.html?action=click&module=RelatedLinks&pgtype=Article

THE COMEY RULE Trailer (2020)

Brendan Gleeson as Donald Trump

Jeff Daniels and Brendan Gleeson star as former FBI Director James Comey and President Donald J. Trump in this two-part event series that tells the story of two powerful men, whose strikingly different ethics and loyalties put them on a collision course. Watch the premiere on September 27 at 9/8c on SHOWTIME. #TheComeyRule #DonaldTrump

youtube

Brendan Gleeson portrays Trump as a crass mobster.

#The Comey Rule #Brendan Gleeson #Trump

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years

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What He Wants (Pt. 21)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary: On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content beware: more lemons!

Word Count: 2048

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I know ya’ll are thirsty for more lemons and not gonna lie, it’s pretty lemony from here on out. Enjoy darlings :)

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: 1 2 3 4 5 67 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

XOXO - Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 21

“Everything okay?” you ask him as he joins you in the living room.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I had to call Pepper back. My email gave her a fright. She just wanted to make sure I’m okay.”

“That’s nice of her. Is everything sorted out then?”

“Yep, I’m officially out of the rotation. I can go back whenever I want or I can be done permanently. She’ll let the others know today.”

“Are you going to miss it? Maybe not the missions, but your friends?” You had mulled this over a few times since he agreed to come back with you. You were pulling him into your world without anything from his own; his friends, his belongings, his life back at the Avengers compound.

“I was only really close with Sam and he has my number. I’m sure I’ll be getting a call as soon as Pepper tells him I’ve gone off with some mystery woman. I’ll see the others eventually and they know how to reach me if they need something.”

“But you had a life back there, Buck. I want you in my world, I really do. I want to give this a real chance. But don’t you want some of your stuff at least?”

“I don’t have much but I was thinking after we give it some time we could take a little trip out to get what’s left. You know, if I decide this hiatus is going to be permanent. Everyone is going to want to meet you anyway, if you’re willing.”

“We could do that at some point. And I met Sam once on a mission a few years ago, he’s a good guy. He’s taken over Steve’s old shield and title, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he has. It couldn’t have gone to a better person. He reminds me a lot of Steve but he is such a smart ass.”

“I remember he had a sense of humor. I’m okay if you tell Sam you’re with me. Not where, of course, but you can let him know we’re… together. I don’t think he’ll tell anyone if you ask him not to.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t blab. And I would like to tell him about us.”

“What are you going to tell him?” you tease, your tone shifting to low and suggestive as you walk over to him to wrap your arms around his solid waist.

Bucky runs his hand through your hair and kisses the spot on your neck that makes you moan softly. “Well, I’m gonna tell him I’m staying with you. That you’re unbelievably kind, and soft, and so sweet. And you make the most amazing little moans when I…” You shove him away and he trails off laughing at your incensed look. “Come on, mouse. I was teasing. I’m just going to tell him we’re together and then, knowing my dumb ass, I’ll probably bore him to death telling him how completely wrapped around your little finger I am.”

“Mmm, smooth recovery.” you pull his head down for a kiss. His hand is rubbing circles along the curve of your hip and it’s driving you wild. You run your hands over his chest, giving yourself ideas of how you want to spend your morning. You press your body against his and your arms snake around him, your hands tracing the hard planes of his back.

He makes a throaty noise as your hands move lower, stopping to cup his shapely backside in your palms. “Careful there, mouse.”

You raise your head up to meet his eyes, “Oh, I know what I’m doing.” you tell him.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, Mr. Barnes, I’m seducing you.” You’re cheering internally at your display of confidence. He had been so giving yesterday and while you know he came too, it’s not the same as you being an active participant in giving him pleasure.

Bucky groans a little, “Doll, you can do that just by standing there.”

You swat his butt lightly, “Come on, Bucky, let me show you what I mean.”

You take Bucky’s hand and lead him to the bedroom and you’re pleasantly surprised to find your bed made. You position him at the foot of the bed and push him lightly so he’s sitting down. He is watching you intently, waiting to see what exactly you have planned. Excited just at the thought that you wanted to do something for him, regardless of what it is. You nudge his knees further apart so you can stand in between them, close to him but not quite touching. It’s nerve wracking, but you’re determined to carry out your plan. Bucky genuinely seems to appreciate your body and you tamp down the anxiety that he may find something unappealing about you naked.

Giving Bucky the sultriest smile you can manage, you pull the hem of your night shirt up slowly and toss it on the floor. You’re standing between his legs, bare except for your pink striped panties and you do your damnedest not to make your discomfort known. You chance a glance at Bucky and it stops your internal monologue. Bucky is staring at you like you’re water in a desert.

“Holy shit, mouse.” He says like a prayer.

Your inhibitions evaporate and you smile at him genuinely this time. Your confidence restored, you lean in to kiss him and he wraps his arm around your waist, locking you against him. His kisses are reverent and his hand trails up your side to your breasts which he alternates kneading in his wide palm. “Fuck doll” he murmurs between kisses and you shudder under his touch.

“Hey,” you press a palm against his chest but he’s a wall of muscle and doesn’t budge. “Hey,” you try again “This is supposed to be about you.” you remind him.

He lets you move back but looks confused, “Doll, believe me, I was doing that for me.” he says and glances down at the tent that has formed in his sweats.

You blush and pull on the waist of his sweatpants to remove them. Bucky leans back and props himself up on his hand, lifting his hips off the bed so you can pull them all the way off, and damn if it doesn’t turn you on as his bicep and ab muscles all constrict and flex as he moves. You get his pants completely off and stay kneeling between his impossibly thick thighs. You look up at his eyes before slowly trailing down his body to the erection that you’ve freed and is now arching out and slightly up. You knew it was going to be impressive just from what you felt pressed against your thigh the day before but nothing could have prepared you for this.

You’re not a virgin by any means but it’s been quite some time and with significantly smaller men. Bucky is long and girthy, his skin smooth and soft, with a large blunt head which is currently purpling from the rush of blood. “Wow.” you whisper to yourself, amazed.

Bucky hears you and groans. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, doll, and things are gonna be over before you lay a hand on me.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I just… you’re just… wow.” you smile up at him like a drunk and you don’t even care. He is absolutely magnificent and you’ve gone from wanting to do this because you want to bring him pleasure, to wanting to do this because you need to taste him. Carefully you reach out and take him in your palm, quickly realizing you can’t wrap your fingers all the way around his shaft. The thought worries you for a moment, hoping you can fit enough of him in your mouth to make it pleasurable for him. You trail your hand lightly along his shaft, tracing your thumb over the ridge of his head and he gasps. Not willing to wait, you slide your hand down to the base of his shaft and, watching his face closely for his reaction, you lower your mouth and swallow as much of him as possible. You’re pleased with yourself that you manage to take in more of him than you expected and his reaction is better than you could have imagined. Bucky’s whole body shudders, his eyes rolling back in his head, and litany of mindless endearments fall from his lips. When his eyes snap back open his pupils are blown wide with lust and his breaths are coming in ragged gasps, every muscle in his body is coiled tight and you can see he’s barely holding on.

You are spurred on by his reactions and you start moving your hands in tandem with your mouth, focusing on laving your tongue along his shaft and swirling it around his swollen head. His body continues shaking at your every movement and you wonder how long he’s going to be able to hold out. You snake one hand down from his shaft to cup his balls and are not surprised that they are also large and weighty. You knead them gently as your continue to worship his cock which is leaking precum steadily now. You wouldn’t say you enjoy the bitter saline fluid but you’re lapping it up like it’s ice cream because it’s Bucky and the thought of bringing him to this point turns you on beyond comprehension. Your jaw is starting to ache and you pray that you’ll be able to hang on long enough to finish him. The way he’s shaking though, you think you stand a chance.

Bucky is consumed by the need raging in his body and he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. He knows it’s mix of doll, baby, mouse, a variety of curse words, and prayers, but he can’t think straight when you move your tongue like that. The sight of you almost completely bare between his legs with your sweet mouth on his cock makes him want to come right away and he’s holding on for dear life, trying not to spend himself so quickly. It’s mildly embarrassing how quickly he came in his jeans yesterday from nothing more than watching you fall apart in his hand and rubbing against your thigh. He needs to make this last just a little bit longer and he pulls on every bit of strength in his body to hold off. He barks out your name when you cup his balls and he knows he’s on the losing side of the battle with himself. He can feel his balls constrict, the pressure building rapidly and he prays silently that you give him a chance to prove he can go longer than this later.

You can feel his cock thickening yet again and you gasp around him, amazed it can swell anymore and knowing it means he’s so very close. His balls pull in tightly and you move your hand back up so they’re both pumping in rhythm with your mouth and you can focus your tongue properly on the top of his shaft and head. You flick it against the bottom ridge and watch as his body shakes violently as he tries to keep himself supported by his one arm. His eyes are half open and you wait for them to meet yours again. When they do, you give him a small smile around his cock and then hollow your cheeks increasing the pressure as you give his head several rapid flicks with your tongue. Bucky makes an animalistic sound and his body goes rigid. Abruptly he spends himself in your mouth and you are quick to gulp it down, taking care of your man like you want so desperately to do.

Bucky has barely finished coming when he collapses back on the bed, every muscle in his body trembling and weak. He’s gasping for air and trying to let his brain turn back on so he can ensure you’re okay. He feels you move away and is concerned momentarily until he feels your weight press down on the bed. You slide up next to him on his left, lying on your side and smiling down at him. He smiles back, trying and failing to find the words he wants to say to you.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty@ladyemofhousestark@abswritesfandoms@rupestria @dark-night-sky-99

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fandom #marvel fangirl #marvel avengers #post endgame #post avengers endgame #what he wants #series #part twenty one

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eluhasmyheart · 5 years

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Your Love Is Like A Drug, It’s Intoxicating - Chapter 6

A/N - Hey guys! The dramas building up! I can’t wait for what’s coming next and I hope you guys are excited too! :)

—————————————

It had been a week since THAT incident. Lucas had never considered himself the paranoid type, but ever since Eliott had told him that he’d have people watching him all the time, Lucas felt constantly on edge. Every time he walked to the bus stop, he could swear he saw glimpses of a black car that seemed to follow him around every corner. Across the street, he’d catch a glimpse of a familiar black leather jacket, but then when he focused it was gone. When he was at home, he swears there’s somebody lurking outside his apartment even though he can’t see anybody from his window. It made him feel on edge and Lucas didn’t like it. It had even got to a point where he thought there was a secret camera hidden in the bookcase or something. He was searching for over an hour, scanning every inch of the apartment before he stopped himself and realised how ridiculous he was being. He was an almost grown adult man, searching his apartment like some sort of paranoid victim out of a cringey spy movie.

“Fuck this, I need a night off” Lucas said to himself, throwing all caution to the wind.

He pulled his phone out and loaded up the group chat.

Le Gang

Lulu – Guys, I’m in serious need of a night out

Yann – he lives!

Arthur – we thought someone had kidnapped you and was holding you for ransom

Lulu – why didn’t you ring the police, I could have been in real danger

Baz – I don’t want to get involved in some weird mafia war, I’m too pretty to die

Arthur – that’s the least of your worries Baz

Yann – anyway a night out sounds good

Lulu – I need to get absolutely off my face

Baz – that is the best idea you’ve had all year Lulu

Arthur – Friday night?

Yann – predrinks at mine?

Lulu – I’m down

Arthur – sounds good to me

Baz – I’m so going to get laid

Lulu – You’d need a miracle for that to happen mec

Yann – even Lucas has more game than you Baz

Arthur – we’ll find you somebody nice

Baz – you’re all nasty, I don’t even know why we’re friends

Lulu – love you

Lucas laughed as he shut his phone. He loved his friends he really did. And he really needed to get drunk. Like proper drunk. He wanted to be able to forget all this shit that had happened. And he also needed to get Eliott out of his head. He was bad news. Lucas sighed and glanced towards his window. He could have sworn he saw movement.

“You’re going insane now Lucas” he muttered to himself as he turned over and fell asleep.

Friday night finally rolled around after a long week of catching up on assignments, being bored out of his mind and checking over his shoulder every 15 seconds to check nobody was following him. All in all it was a great week. The boys had had predrinks at Yann’s and were pleasantly tipsy. Not enough to be out of control but enough to feel the warm buzz that ran through their bodies. The four boys entered the club and were immediately swallowed up by hundreds of people. Lucas had no idea there were this many people here, but he really didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to completely let loose and forget about HIM. Him and Yann went to the bar to get the first round of drinks in. They got a beer each and eight shots of vodka and tequila. They were going to let loose tonight.

“Cheers boys!” Arthur shouted.

“VODKA!” Lucas screamed as they clinked their glasses and downed the shots. He welcomed the pleasant burn in the back of his throat. He immediately picked up another and swallowed, smiling as he felt the warmth start to pool in his stomach. Fuck, he needed this.

About an hour later and about 12 shots, Lucas was really feeling the benefit. A warmth was spreading throughout his body, and his mind was slightly fuzzy. The neon lights all blurred into one and he marvelled at how they could be so blinding yet soothing at the same time. It reminded him of when he was little and he would curl underneath the covers and flash his torch from different angles. It used to drown out the shouting and the crying. It made him feel safe, like he was the only one in the room.

“Lucas. Lucas. Lucas!” Yann shouted, trying to get his attention.

“Huh what?” He said, snapping out of his daze, shaking his head to clear the haze from his eyes.

“Dance. We’re going to dance, you coming?”

“Hell yes!”

Yann yanked his arm and dragged him to the centre of the dance floor. Arthur was gently bobbing along, chatting to some people from school who had the same idea as the boys.

“Where’s Baz?” Lucas shouted over the music, realising his voice would be hoarse in the morning. Yann pointed to the corner where Baz was pushed up against a wall, kissing some random girl.

“Get in there Baz. You’ve pulled!” Lucas shouted, losing all control of his inhibitions. He was a completely different person when he was drunk, more carefree and less uptight. Him and Yann started throwing themselves around, not caring what they looked like. He let the music fill his ears, closed his eyes and just let go. He let his body move naturally, going with the flow of the rhythm. He rocked forwards and back, throwing his hands up in the air.

His actions were halted when he felt a breath on his ear.

“Hey handsome”

Lucas quickly whipped around and found himself face to face with a beautiful stranger. He was tall, had dark hair and dark eyes. He looked into them and could see his reflection, his tousled hair and glassy eyes. He was conventionally attractive and for some reason had some sort of interest in Lucas. But who was he to deny the attention of an attractive man?

“Hey yourself. How can I help you?” Lucas smirked, taking a step closer to the man.

“I was just wondering what a pretty boy like you was doing here alone”

“Nobody caught my eye”

“What, even now?” He whispered, voice rough in his ear.

“Hmm, maybe someone has caught my attention” Lucas flirted back, blinking up at the stranger.

“Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy”

“Yeah he is” Lucas winked as he turned around. He pressed his back against the stranger and started to dance. He glanced over his shoulder and was proud to see that the older guys eyes had turned almost completely black, his pupils dilated. He put his hands on Lucas’s small waist and moved his hips in time with Lucas. Their dancing was messy and simple, but the alcohol pumping through Lucas’s veins refused to allow him to think straight. All he knew was that he was having a good time and this guy was a good distraction.

He didn’t know how long him and Aidan? He thinks that’s his name, were dancing for, but Lucas felt an intense burning on the back of his head. It was almost as if someone had pushed a firey hot poker into his neck and was twisting it constantly. He turned around and scanned across the room to try and find the source of the burn. All he could see was people dancing, shadows filling the night.

Until he saw him. Time seemed to stand still. The movement around him slowed. The hands on his waist suddenly became feather light. The lights faded away until they were just colours blurring around him. His eyes met the stormy night sky. Although he was metres away, Lucas had never seen him so clearly. His ruffled hair stood up at all angles and flopped over his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed in complete concentration. His eyes were like lasers, stalking his every move. His jaw was clenched, just like his fists. His hunched shoulders left his jacket crease over his tense muscles. His stance was ready to attack, like a predator hunting its prey. And his lips. His lips were slightly open, tongue licking around the bottom, wetting them. They were plump and red, almost calling out for Lucas’s attention. It was like there was only him and Eliott in the world. In the universe. They were opposites, fire and ice, destined to meet and cause a collision. Everything else has faded to nothing. Their force was magnetic, pulling them together on a subatomic level. Lucas had never felt like this before. Like he would drop dead if Eliott’s eyes stopped watching his every move. He breathed in heavily, his lungs seeming to burst out of his chest. Thump, thump, thump. His breaths were shallow and forced, yet he felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

All of a sudden his vision blurred and the sounds ambushed his ears. The loud bass music continued its attack on his brain and it was as if time hadn’t stopped. Everything carried on, completely oblivious to the moment he and Eliott had just shared. He let his ears and eyes adjust, coming back into focus. But never once losing eye contact with Eliott across the room. Lucas heard the song lyrics and he knew what he had to do.

“I’m giving up, I’m giving up on love”

He plastered himself against the guy behind him, dancing like he was before. But this time, he imagined it was Eliott. Let his body go and showed off. He knew he was affecting Eliott. He could tell by the way his eyes dilated, the way they seemed to turn hungry. He rocked back against Aidan and grinded their hips together. He could sense the anger flaring up in Eliott, almost as if they were his own emotions. Good, he thought to himself. I hope it makes you feel something. Desperation, want, helplessness. I want you to feel how you make me feel. I want you to want me. I want you to want me the way I want you.

Lucas barely noticed the loss of contact on his hips before he felt a gasp to his side. Aidan was being slammed against the wall, back making a sickening thud. His eyes were wide in fright, hands shaking. Strong arms were holding him there, veins pulsing against the skin.

“Back off. He’s mine” Eliott growled, letting go of the stranger and watching him run away in fear.

Lucas stood there, shock evident in his face. Did Eliott just- did he just-. His thoughts were interrupted by hands ghosting over his waist. But this time they were calloused, rough, covered by rings. The cold metal soothes his flushed skin stretched over his hipbones. The grip was firm, possessive. Lucas’s back was flush against Eliott’s chest. His strong arms covering Lucas’s swaying to the rhythm. His hot breath tickled Lucas’s collarbone, damp and heavy. His eyes were jet black, not a stormy blue in sight. His demeanour was electric, lighting up a spark inside Lucas. His heart constricted and he forgot how to breathe. He was overcome by a sense of want, of need, of lust. There was something about the way Eliott was looking at him. Looking at him like he was his prize, the only thing that mattered in the world. His desire was animalistic, raw and passionate. And Lucas had never wanted anybody more than he did in that second. He wanted to feel Eliott’s rough hands against his, pinning him down. He wanted those lips to devour his. He wanted that stubble to brush his cheek and leave a mark. He wanted to be owned. He wanted to be needed. For the first time in his life, Lucas felt complete, like this is what his whole existence had been leading up to. He turned around in Eliott’s arms and leant up, warmth filling every bone in his body.

Then emptiness. Cold. Numbness. Lucas blinked his eyes open and was met with the same eyes he wanted to see. But they were getting further away. Eliott was walking away from him, leaving him alone. He glanced at Lucas one more time before turning and walking out the door. The younger boy stumbled on the spot, his body in pure shock at what had just happened. Lucas thought he had felt empty before, but that was nothing compared to this. He felt like his heart had been torn from his chest. He could feel claws tearing up his gut. His soul was crushed beneath the ocean, water filling his lungs and clawing at his throat. He stood in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by dancing people. But they didn’t matter to him. He was alone. Alone.

#elu fic #elu fanfic #elu fanfiction #elu #skam france #eliott x lucas #lucas x eliott #skam #skam france fanfic #skam france fanfiction #skam france fic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #lucas #eliott #gang au #au #protective eliott

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randomfandomimagine · 5 years

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As soon as I walked into the bullpen, Charles stood up and approached me.

“Thanks for coming, Y/N” He gravely told me.

“Is everything okay?” I worriedly asked him. “When you asked me to come for Jake, I got a little worried”

“Yeah, he’s fine” We both turned to my boyfriend, who noticed me and cutely waved at me. “He’s just feeling a little under the weather and refuses to go home and rest”

“Oh, I see” I chuckled, understanding everything now. “You want me to convince him to leave”

“Yeah, even Captain Holt wants him to but you know how he is...”

We looked over to Jake again. He probably realized what Charles and I were talking about, because he adorably grinned, trying to look innocent.

I sighed, frustrated that he refused to look after himself and prefered to stay there and work. As I got closer to his desk, Jake turned his chair to me.

“Hi, Y/N!” He cheerfully said, even if he was clearly sick, he looked pale and exhausted and maybe a little bit feverish. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Charles called me saying you are sick and that I should pick you up, so let’s go” I tugged at his arm, but he groaned in complaint.

“No, I’m not sick!” He whined, swatting me away. “And I don’t need you coming to get me, I’m not ten years old”

“You are mentally” I teased him a little, hearing Charles snickering next to me.

“Aw, don’t be so mean, I’m sick!” Even his voice sounded a little slurred.

“I thought you weren’t sick, you just said that”

“I... You’re twisting my words!”

I paused, resting my palm against his forehead. His skin felt really warm, he was definitely running a mild fever.

“C’mon, Jakey” I tugged at his arm again, pulling him to his feet. “You need to rest”

“But I’m working...”

“Charles already spoke with Captain Holt, everything’s okay”

“Fine” He suddenly leaned all his weight on me, making me wobble. “But you have to buy me ice cream”

I laughed a little, amused that he was behaving like a child. More than normal, that is.

We finally made it home, and the first thing Jake did was plop down in the couch. He really must have been feeling under the weather to demonstrate his unwell. Or maybe the fever made him lose all his inhibitions, just like he were drunk.

“There you go” I happily said. “Get some rest”

“What? No” Jake immediately sat up. “I got work to do”

“No, you don’t” In response, I sat down on his lap.

“But Y/N!” He complained, still trying to stand up, but in his sickly state he wasn’t strong enough to lay me off him..

“Jacob Peralta” I gravely called him, sternly eyeing him.

“Don’t full name me, Y/N!” He whined, wrapping his arms around me and taking me with him as he leaned his back in the couch.. “I’m sick!”

“Yeah, you are” I fondly booped his nose. “So are you gonna rest and let me take care of you?”

“But I was working on a case...”

“The 99 has your back, Charles will be taking over, and Captain Holt is okay with it”

“Fine...” He sighed, clearly unwell. “But just because I’m exhausted”

Although clumsily, Jake lied down on the couch and somehow managed to take me with him. We ended up facing each other, on our sides, as he still wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me against his torso for comfort.

“There you go” I smiled and kissed him in the forehead, feeling how warm he felt still.

“This is nice” He gave in, dedicating me a goofy smile.

“Yup, but I probably need to put a blanket over you and give you some medicine or...” I tried to stand up and leave him there resting, but his arms tightened around me.

“Mmmm...” He groaned in complaint. “Stay here! It’s cozy!”

“Okay” I chuckled, gladly snuggling closer to him and nuzzling his chest. “How are you feeling, Jakey?”

“More good” A smile permanently plastered on his lips as he comfortable closed his eyes.

“Jake” I gently shoved him.

“Sorry, gooder” He corrected himself, even if wrongly.

“It’s better”

“I know, right? I feel so much gooder”

“I really can’t tell if you’re delirious or just being you”

“Maybe a little bit of both”

Tagging: @c-taylor-wanna-be-a-glader, @xionroxas, @qtmeryr

#prompt #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine prompt #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn 99 prompt #b99 #b99 prompt #jake peralta #jake peralta prompt #jake peralta x reader #reader insert #not requested

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years

Note

“Oh god, I need a drink” - mafia!au + rhodestead

“God, I need a drink,” Connor grouses into the bottle of bourbon in his hand. It’s half empty, and yet, he keeps saying it. Over and over, more than part of the way towards shitfaced, his hair a mess and the scruff on his jaw just dark enough for Will to wonder what it would feel like under his fingers. If it’s scratchy like many men he knows, if it’s rough and capable of leaving friction burn, it it’s soft. Connor’s chest hair is soft. “So many drinks, Halstead. I need ‘em all.”

“Mhmm.”

Will should take the bourbon away from him. He’s by no means an alcoholic- or at least, nowhere near the way Ava is- but he still shouldn’t be drinking it so fast that he might poison himself with it. He won’t even try, though; Connor’s a lot stronger than him, and drunks tend to lose track of their usual inhibitions.

“You can’t drink if I’m taking you out to dinner, Connor,” he says. “You have to drive, right?”

“Dinner?”

They were supposed to go to dinner tonight, just the two of them for once, but Connor had to pull Will from one of his dates because he was almost hurt badly, and now they’re here, Connor drinking and Will holding a dish towel full of ice to the hand print wrapped around his wrist. Unlike the pink one on his face gifted by his “client,” this bruise is Connor. It was just to pull him to safety, but it hurts, and it brings up things Will doesn’t want to think about, issues he doesn’t want to consider.

“Yeah. We were going to a nice restaurant, Connor. C’mon, set down the bottle and let’s get you dressed.”

It works, because Connor sets down the bourbon and lumbers toward his bedroom. Will is able to coax him to the bed, slide off his work boots and jacket, and even remove the brass knuckles that had left a lot of damage earlier in the day. There’s blood still in the grooves because Connor didn’t have the patience to do more than wipe them on his shirt as he dragged Will from the restaurant.

“Just rest,” he says in the voice he usually has to use with plying dates who won’t stop slipping their hands up the back of his shirt. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Connor’s out the moment his head hits the pillow.

#mafia!au

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brien-odylan · 6 years

Text

Oops, baby, I miss you - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @brien-odylan

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x OC

Word count: 14.5k

Warnings: a little bit of angst, mentions of sex, cursing, World Cup, Brazil losing, some fluff.

A/N: I can’t believe it’s finally done! *inserts hallelujah chorus here*. This story has been on the made ever since the enf of June, over the course where I had to go through a dryspell, where I couldn’t write anything for days. But it’s finally here now and man... Just knowing that it took me a little less than a month makes me want to kill myself.

Anyways, this was made as part of @disbestiles writing challenge in celebration of her 600 followers, using the songs Oops, by Little Mix and Miss You, by Louis Tomlinson. Let’s a great deal of it, having my back when all I wanted was to give up writing this story and everytime I changed what it was going to be about. See, miga, I finally finished it! Shoutout to the amazing @mischiefandi for proofing some of it and to @malia--stilinski @mf-despair-queen for yelling at me. And also to my best friend that doesn’t have a tumblr but was totally my inspiration for the very last scene. Enjoy it!! xxx

A shrill sound was what woke Ananda up that Sunday morning, her eyes trying to adjust to the clarity of the room. She tried to close her eyes and muffle the sound, but for as hard as she tried, the noise wouldn’t go away and seemed to be coming from inside her head, going off for countless minutes until it stopped.

Slowly, the girl opened one eye and looked around. She was back in her room, the sunlight entering through a crack on her blinds on the window on the opposite side of her bed and she just wished she was dead. Her head was pounding strongly against her skull, as if someone had dropped an anvil on her head or hit her until she went unconscious.

Once again, the annoying noise came back and she felt something vibrating against her skull. Trying to understand what was going on, she reached beneath her pillow only to find her phone ringing insistently on her palms. She had the vague idea of throwing it on the other side of the room, her trembling arm already shaking in anticipation. She was in no condition of talking to anyone at that time of the day after the night she had had.

It has to be the worst hangover ever, she thought to herself as she tried to make out the letters on her caller ID to no avail. It was going to be impractical to try to figure out who was disturbing her at that time, so she just rejected the call and turned the phone off. I’m never drinking again, she added.

It was an empty promise and Ananda was well aware of it. She had lost count of how many times she had said that only to get hammered the following weekend.

There was a movement behind her, the sound of her sheets being ruffled by someone getting her attention. It was probably just her best friend trying to get more comfortable during her sleep, her lazy self trying to find some more hours of sleep. Ananda half expected to hear her groaning at the sound of the ringing phone, but she must’ve been dead to this world.

With a sigh, Ananda closed her eyes once again and pushed the covers over her head in order to block the light in the room. She was going to spend the rest of the day in bed while begging Let to ask for takeout. It was a day to be lazy and get cured, she would understand.

However, things went slightly different, because soon enough Ananda felt something slightly different in the sleeping arrangement. First of all, Let seemed to be taking way more space than she usually did. They were about the same size and there was always a gap between the two girls, something that seemed nonexistent that morning. The second thing was a muscular arm draped over her body, pulling her closer to its owner and it made Ananda freeze in her place, dread icing her veins as she tried to understand what had happened the night before.

Because, obviously, she had ended up sleeping with someone and that was not Let, her best friend.

Sweaty bodies danced scattered around the dancefloor, the beat reverberating through the walls, hips swaying from one side to the other, people getting drunk all around the deck, the lights blinking as the DJ started another song, this time with a more powerful bass echoing around the surroundings, an obvious change in the atmosphere, causing everyone to shout in excitement as the music started.

From where she was standing, her bare feet in contact with the soft fabric of the booth she was designated to, Ananda threw her head back, her hips already dancing on their own accord, following the new rhythm, the words to the song coming out of her mouth as if it was her own creation. In her intoxicated state, she could feel the sound booming through her veins, her closed eyes intensifying the feeling and before she knew it, she was screaming at the top of her lungs the words to the song, her hips swaying, shyly at first.

That’s how things always started for her. She would claim she couldn’t dance, that she was way too shy to do it in front of anyone, but everytime she went out with her friends, she would end up giving all she got on the dancefloor, not caring if anyone was seeing it or not. Of course there was always a great amount of alcohol involved, but she wasn’t the type of person to drink and forget everything; she would just let go of her inhibitions, secretly saying a ‘fuck you’ to herself. It was fun to watch. You could see she was having a good time coming out of her shell and attracting looks from a few guys around.

And of course it couldn’t be any different that day. It was her birthday, all her friends were present and she even got a VIP section of her favorite night club, not to mention a free champagne bottle to celebrate it. She was having the time of her life, dancing on top of the seat, not a care in the world with her hands on her knees, her ass stuck up in the air, moving from one side to the other almost in a broken way to whoever saw it, but she was in complete control of what she was doing, the sharp motions of her hips forming, slightly, what could be remarked as a geometric shape as she kept singing loudly to the song.

Ananda could see, by the look on her friends’ eyes, that most of them had no idea what the music was saying or what kind of moves they should do and she just shrugged it off, telling them to do what felt natural. There was no correct way of dancing funk. You just had to feel the beat and do the most provocative moves you could muster, that’s how she went.

She felt a sharp tug on her arms, her movements halting immediately as she looked at whoever had stopped her, the bewilderment expression she had softening as soon as she saw her best friend looking at her with the biggest smile on her face.

“He’s here!” she heard through the song. Two little words that sent her heart in a frenzy, completely forgetting to follow the music’s beat to a rhythm of its own, almost as if it was racing against her eyes, which had already darted to the entrance searching for someone.

Ananda was sure he wouldn’t make it, she was sure she was going to spend another birthday without him, without the guy she considered her best friend. It was weird, to be honest, that he had become someone so close to her. They had shared one meaningless class back in freshman year, done one unimportant seminar together and yet he kept on being by her side, talking to her throughout the rest of the college years. Not to mention when he moved to the same building as hers.

In the end, they had accepted that they were destined to be in each other’s lives; they had far too many things in common, not to mention how they worked perfectly together. And now, five years after they had met, she was glad they had decided it.

As soon as her eyes fell on his frame, his spiked hair, the infamous blue shirt and khaki pants he wore everywhere - she really thought those were the only clothes he owned and once offered to go shopping with him. What was his problem? - and those warm honey colored eyes, she felt a squeal erupt from her mouth, her legs pushing her through the mass of sweaty bodies, making her way to the man she was expecting.

“Dylan!” she screamed over the noise, her much smaller frame colliding against him, her arms circling around his neck as she stood on the tip of her toes. “You made it!” she beamed, her eyes staring at him intently as he shook back the confusion he was in once he felt someone run into him.

He let out a loud laugh, a smile on his lips as he hugged her back, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist and picking her up a little bit, her feet dangling a little bit. “I wouldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday, come on!”

“You missed the last one,” she looked at him sternly. He was not going to pull that kind of crap on her. Not on her birthday.

“It’s not my fault you decided to have your birthday when the semester is almost over,” he defended himself.

“It’s not my fault you struggled with your grades. You should study harder, Dylan.”

Whoever watched their interaction from the distance, wouldn’t actually see how their dynamic worked. Dylan was the laid back one, doing everything he deemed possible to achieve what he wanted, but never stressing himself over it, hence the moments he needed to ditch his best friend to stay in and study for his finals. It was just how he worked, pushing things back until he couldn’t get away from it anymore and it was amazing how he always ended up being at the top of his class or having the best job offer ever. On the other side, there was Ananda: a hard-worked, over-achiever, stressed student who was always trying to make the best of her time and classes. Maybe it was the fact that she was living through what felt like her only shot of winning in life, like if she ever stood a toe out of line, she was going to be sent back home and say goodbye to her much dreamed graduation. Maybe she felt like she had to prove herself all the time because she was from another country; maybe she felt like everyone was judging her, as if it wasn’t her place and she needed to prove them wrong.

How those two ever ended up close to each other was a mystery, but it worked perfectly well. They balanced each other’s lives.

“Well, I’m here now,” he said with a smirk. “Just in time to see you twerking, something I never thought you would do.”

Ananda scoffed. She couldn’t believe he would compare her sharp hip movements to something so simple and silly as… twerking. She had spent hours and more hours practicing her movements, the positions of her legs, how her hips had to swerve from one side to the other in a fluid movement with her ass stuck up in the air.

“Don’t ever compare my quadradinho to twerk,” she shouted over the song, her eyes rolling. She wasn’t going to stand there and be offended like that. Ok, it wasn’t like that and she was being a little bit over dramatic, but the amount of alcohol in her system wasn’t helping much.

Dylan laughed at her and put his hands up in a surrender motion, accepting what she had said. He had no idea what she was talking about or what the hell a quadradinho was, but he would accept it. She seemed like she was having fun and that was enough for him.

After that, everything seemed to go in a blur. A shot of tequila turned into four and he had ingested more caipirinhas than he would have thought healthy. Damn those Brazilians and their need to make something so sweet and tasteful, making you drink more than one in a hurry thinking it wasn’t too strong. When it hits, it hits you hard, he thought. But it was already too late. He was already in the middle of the sweaty bodies taking the space of the VIP section designated to Ananda, his mind all fuzzy, his steps a bit faltering, but never stopping moving to the rhythm of the music.

And that was pretty much how things went all night long. At some point, Ananda turned around, her glazed eyes trying to focus on a black figure sat right in front of her. Of course it was Dylan, she though with an internal roll of eyes. She knew he had already drank more than he should, but she couldn’t stop smiling at the way his head rolled around, trying to keep an eye on everything that was going on around him. They had always joked about visiting Brazil together. She said she would show him everything worth seeing and not just Rio and what people thought that was Brazil.

Well, that night club was something he would see in a night club in the latin country: people dancing around, having the time of their lives, shouting the words to every funk song while dancing to it.

She didn’t know who had started it, but when she realized it, both of them were extremely close to each other, Dylan out of his seat, his frame towering over hers slightly as he tried to keep his face in a serious expression while watching her dance, her back turned to him as she bounced her hips, slowly going up and down, her movements never faltering.

He was hypnotized. His eyes couldn’t avert from her as she laughed, her hands lacing around his neck. That was it. That was what made him lose all his sober thoughts as she turned around, her face inching closer to his as she grinded against him, her chest pressing entirely to his, her breath fanning against his neck.

It was hard to see where Dylan stopped and Ananda started. Somewhere along the song, they had become one.

No. No no. No no no no no. It couldn’t be, right? That was just a drunk mistake, she had only kissed Dylan and then walked away from him to find someone else. Some tall, blonde stranger, something completely different from the brunette she called her best friend. Because that was the right thing. She couldn’t have walked home with him and slept with him.

She took a deep breath and poked her head through the covers, almost too afraid to turn around and see who was behind her, snoring softly and completely lost to this world. She had to do it. She had to make sure that she hadn’t jeopardized years of friendship because of a wild night out. And then, with a hammering heart and completely neglecting the pounding in her head, Ananda slowly turned around, her body shifting swiftly against the sheets as she tried to see who was in bed with her and the first thing she noticed was a mop of brown hair contrasting with a pale skin.

And if it weren’t enough to send her heart in a frantic rhythm, the face her eyes came into contact did. Because there was no way she could mistake those long eyelashes against that cheek or the constellation of moles that dotted that beautiful face. She had watched them closely a thousand of times, trying to memorize every little speck of color, how they looked under the natural light, how they contrasted against his skin and how she loved when he was wearing a beard, but hated the fact that it hid the dots she had grown to love. Purely platonic, that is.

And it was amidst the realization that she had slept with her best friend that she couldn’t ignore the fact that she liked seeing Dylan like that, his face free of any worries, his eyes rolling from one side to the other behind his closed eyelids, the soft snores coming from him, almost melodic and sending her back into a slumber, the way his chest was raising and falling, the way that the morning light hit his warm skin, giving it a new shade. He seemed so peaceful, so innocent and pure that Ananda found herself gazing at him, her finger itching as she tried to not outline the contour of his jawline.

She was incredibly scared of what would happen when he woke up, but she couldn’t stop looking at him and admiring the man beside her. He was gorgeous; his pale skin looked amazing against hers - a little bit more tanned -, his strong arms, something that she had watched grow over the years, felt so secure and soft that she couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to be held by them. And it hit her that she probably had been trapped between those same arms the previous night and what startled her the most was the fact that she couldn’t remember much of it.

There was a lingering thought on her mind, something telling her that she had been in there. It was almost a memory, completely blurred and confusing, but she had a feeling that it had been amazing. For as long as she knew Dylan, she had failed to know something he wasn’t good at. She had heard things about him in bed, of course, having talked to a few girls that had been in his life and some rumours that went around the campus. If any of them were true, she must have felt in heaven.

In the complete stillness of the morning, where no sound could be heard coming from the closed window she had on her bedroom, the annoying sound her vibrating phone caused startled her one more time, her eyes tearing apart from the sleeping figure besides her, her body almost jumping out of the bed and away from his as she tried to reach for the buzzing device to quiet it hurriedly before it disturbed Dylan from his sleep, but it was already too late.

Dylan stirred on his side of the bed, his eyes opening and closing rapidly due to the clarity of the room he was in, his head screaming at him while he tried to make sense of what was happening. He could feel a commotion going on beside him, someone talking hurriedly into a phone words he couldn’t make out and the ruffling of sheets. Where the hell did he spend the night?

Slowly and carefully, he opened one eye flinching slightly at the bright light, his hands reaching down to pull the duvet closer to his chin, suddenly too self-conscious for his liking.

The voice - it was a girl, that he was sure of - cut the call short and turned around, her eyes finally meeting his.

Saying that life is full of surprises is an understatement; you can prepare yourself to a lot of things, but waking up, naked, in a bed with your best friend when you can’t recall what happened the previous night, is something that you can never be prepared for and something that can never cross your mind. And that was exactly what was happening to Dylan that Sunday morning.

His eyes stared wide open back at the Brazilian girl by his side, her smaller frame enveloped in the duvet they were sharing, her small hands tugging at the ends of the fabric trying to get more of it around her body while he could just sit there, too stunned to say or do anything. How could they ever walk away from this situation?

“Do you…” he started, his voice caught in the back of his throat. Fuck, how do you even start a conversation? “Do you remember anything from last night?”

Ananda stared at him blankly, her head shaking, her eyes focused on the wall behind his head. That was it. The perfect friendship had been reduced to a big pile of nothing because of a drunk mistake. What were they thinking of? Well, they weren’t.

“Do you have any idea how wrong this is?” she asked, her voice barely over a whisper. She was mortified.

Maybe, to anyone else, it might have seemed like they were just being over dramatic, that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that it was bound to happen at some time, but when it came to friendships, Ananda didn’t like to see hers being ruined, much less with the only guy she had in her life, the one person she could count on at any given time. Of course she had other friends, Let for instance, but it was different. Dylan knew her the longest, he was aware of her deepest secrets, he could read her like the back of his hand and to have him there, in the same bed as her after a night of sex, it seemed like she couldn’t look at him without wanting to die.

“Ok, don’t freak out,” he started, one of his hands slowly reaching to grabs hers in a soothing way. If he was thinking straight, he would’ve realized it wasn’t a good idea, but he was set on trying to comfort his best friend. “I know this is weird, but come on, Nanda. It’s just us.”

“Of course I’m freaking out, Dylan!” her hand slipped out of his, holding the duvet closer to her. “You’re my best friend! I have the right to freak out! Oh my God, what have we done?” she rambled, her eyes falling to her lap as she tried to think of a way to walk out of the awkward situation. “I need an aspirin,” she mumbled, her legs finding the side of the bed, steading her descending self as she clutched the sheets around her. “Don’t look!”

It was then that Dylan realized he had not only been looking at her, but gawking. He was transfixed on a point over her shoulder, how the skin there seemed so tender and soft, something he would like to feel again, to refresh his memory, to run his fingers through it until he reached the pulsing point on her neck. She was extremely beautiful, something he hadn’t failed to realize in all those years, but it had a different meaning now. Because he was actually seeing her, all her walls down.

Some people would wake up and grumble, roll out of the bed and start their day with a roll of eyes, but not Ananda. Despite having a real shocker that morning, Dylan could see that she was doing her best to let it slip from her mind and not ruin her day. He saw her walking up to the window, the light hitting her skin and adding a golden tone to it. Her hair waved down to the middle of her back, the sunlight making it look lighter than it actually was. And he kept watching, almost too scared to say anything, almost too scared of moving and making her scurry away from him. He watched it like it was forbidden, like he was stealing glimpses of her and storing it in his memory before it was too late.

She was beautiful and it hit him like a brick. He had fucked it up.

A week had passed. An entire week in which Ananda had done her best to avoid any kind of interaction with Dylan or any conversation about what had happened. She knew it was ridiculous because they had to talk it out at some point, but she just couldn't bring herself to look at him without feeling utterly mortified.

It was a crazy feeling, something she never thought she would feel towards him, but she couldn't help herself. She had been out of herself enough to sleep with him and that was not something she did. She was the calm one, the one who always thought things through and avoided all kinds of crazy thoughts. Why had this happened and with him?

No, she wasn't repulsed by the idea of sex with Dylan, because he was amazing. He was gorgeous and had a body that she could stare at for hours - something she actually did when he was running around the room and putting his clothes on - but it was also her best friend. She was repulsed by the idea of throwing herself at him, completely out of her normal state, her drunk haze making her act like someone she was not. That was her problem with the whole situation.

And, if things weren’t already hard enough, she had to deal with her Let being all over her, asking things she wanted to forget, trying to make her remember things that were forever lost on her sucky memory, something she was glad for for the first time in her life.

“You know you’re acting really childish, right?” Let asked as she moved around the kitchen, her hands gripping tightly the dishes as she put them back in the cabinet. The two girls had just walked home from a long and exhausting day at work, ready to call it a night and order takeout. “You two slept together, so what? Everyone does that.”

Ananda rolled her eyes. She was tired of having that same conversation, tired of saying everything she had already said, but her best friend wouldn’t give up. She wanted to talk about it all the time, almost like she was rooting for it to happen again and soon. The truth was… She knew Let had always wanted them to be together, had always hinted at that fact and had always secretly rooted for that to happen. Ananda was really surprised Let hadn’t shouted it to the whole world yet.

“But it’s not something I do,” she sighed. “I don’t want to jeopardize everything I have with him because of a mistake, ok? I like him, he’s my best friend and I don’t want to give it away because we were too drunk to do the right thing.”

There was a lingering silence in the kitchen, the only sound coming from the dishwasher working in the background and the occasional sound of the chair scraping against the floor as Ananda rocked herself back and forth, trying to think of a way to walk out of that conversation.

“Well, you two have to talk,” Let said with a final tone, her eyes rolling at how things were being treated by two grown ups. She expected them to be more mature about it all, she thought they would look at each other, have a laugh and move on with their lives. Deep down, she thought it could mean something, that they would finally be together. It was just a matter of time. “Meanwhile, you could do the laundry,” she added, a smile playing on her lips as she hinted to the big pile of dirty clothes they had put aside.

“Yeah, I’ll do it tomorrow,” Ananda rolled her eyes. Yes, it was her turn. No, she wouldn’t waste her night doing something she hated.

“But you gotta do it today,” Let pressed, her hands firmly gripping the girl’s hands and pushing her up. “I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning and I want to wear the black pants I lent you Monday. So you gotta do it now.”

There was something to it, Ananda thought as she went through the laundry, separating the clothes she was going to wash first. First because Let wouldn’t be so adamant on making her wash the clothes, second because the following day was a Saturday and Let didn’t work on Saturdays and third because she knew Ananda didn’t like being on her own on that room. It was all gloomy and eery. The sound of the plumbing always managed to scare her, it didn’t matter how many times she had been in that basement.

Either way, the Brazilian girl found herself all alone in the room, praying for nothing to happen as she put all her color clothes into the machine, internally rolling her eyes at how silly she was being. She was a grown up and didn’t have time for irrational fears. Resigned, she shook her head, set and started the machine, adjusting the earphones in her ears hitting play on her playlist as she waited for the cycle to be done sitting on a chair with her legs up, her back to the door.

Of course, had she been sitting differently or not using the earphones to block the sound coming from the plumbing, she would have noticed the door had opened and someone had walked into the room with her, their steps not so light as they stumbled on their own feet due to the amount of things they were carrying, blocking their vision. Had Ananda been paying attention, she would have noticed when the figure walked up to her, let go of the basket with clothes and detergent and looked at her, a smirk on their lips as they watched the girl singing happily to whatever she was listening to, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, completely lost to the world around them.

Dylan chuckled to himself. It was such a normal thing for her, to sit back and relax, listen to her random playlist and forget about everything else. She looked so relaxed and carefree, a smile playing on her moving lips, the words escaping from her mouth echoing around the almost empty room, reaching his ears and making him smile. He loved when she sang; her voice was melodic enough to carry a song on her own, her tone causing some kind of effect within him. His heart, somehow, felt lighter at the sight of the girl in front of him combined with her sweet voice.

He knew she was trying to avoid him ever since the weekend and he couldn’t understand why. Well, he could, but he thought it was just a little too much of her to do something like that. It wasn’t that big of a deal and despite the fact that she thought it could be something to ruin their friendship, neither of them remembered what actually happened. They could pretend it never did and move on with their lives, be the best of friends as they had always been, but she had chose to ignore him and he had let her. He gave her the space she thought she needed, he respected that and at that moment, as his brain screamed at him to walk away from the room and leave her alone, another part of him - he wasn’t sure which one - was telling him to just walk up to her and question the girl on her actions.

It could be a little selfish, he thought, but he didn’t want to be apart from her anymore. He missed her, the way her accent rang on his ears when she said his name or tried to say some word she thought that was difficult to say. He missed her rambling on and on about the upcoming World Cup, he missed her trying to teach him things from her country. He missed his best friend. So, shutting up his brain and acting on the behalf of his heart, Dylan slowly turned to her, his hands reaching out to gently grab her shoulders and snap her out of her daze.

What followed after was a cacophony of sounds, the metal chair scraping against the floor, Ananda’s legs hitting the side of the washing machine as a piercing scream left her mouth, echoing around the nearly empty room and probably reaching the first level of the building. Her heart was hammering wildly against her ribcage, her head pounding and her veins turned to ice. That was how she was going to die. All alone, doing laundry while listening to some poorly chosen songs. Fantastic.

With her body shaking from head to toe, she opened her eyes and slowly looked back, her eyes finally coming in contact with the culprit of her heart attack, seeing Dylan standing there, eyes and mouth wide open, his already pale skin even paler and his breath uneven. On the process of being scared, she had managed to scare him back, nearly making the young man going deaf.

“Filho da puta,” she shouted, her hands reaching her accelerated heart as she tried to calm it down, her head tilted down, her free hand resting against her forehead. “Son of a bitch.”

Dylan kept looking at her, his eyes still wide open, but his mouth had turned into a smirk. “You've got some lungs, huh?”

She looked at him wanting to be able to murderer the man. He knew very well that she didn't like being in there all by herself and he went and scared her? Ok, maybe he hadn't meant it, but what could you expect to happen when you sneak behind someone's back and they've got earphones on?

With her heart calming down, but still beating too rapidly for her liking, she reached down and threw some of his own clothes at him, rolling her eyes as he laughed at her. She hated him. She really hated him.

Dylan could only laugh. “What are you doing here?”

Ananda looked from him to the working machine, back to him and crossed her arms over her chest. It was an obvious question and she couldn’t actually believed he had asked it. “Laundry,” she limited herself on saying. “This is the laundry room, right?”

Dylan surely had missed her sarcastic ways. The way she would look at him whenever he made a dumb question, her eyes struggling to not roll, her lips pulled in a scowl and how her nostrils seemed to inflate as her annoyed expression came on her face.

“I meant a, you don’t do your laundry on week days and b,” he paused scooting closer to her, the smirk still on his lips. “You hate being here all by yourself.”

The girl couldn’t deny it. He knew her like the back of his hand. He knew every little thing that was on her mind, before she even knew it herself, and that was what sucked the most about that friendhship. Because she wanted nothing more than to just roll her eyes at him and ignore him for the rest of her life, but since he knew she was doing it, he wouldn't let it happen.

“Well, Mister Know-It-All,” she started, her legs kicking her off the chair and leading her to the side of the machine, her body leaning over it as her elbows pressed against it. “For your information, I needed to do it today. Let has a meeting tomorrow and she lent me one of her pants, so I’m washing it right now.”

“Are you sure?”

Ananda blinked a couple of times. What did he mean she was sure? Of course she was. She had just talked to her best friend, whom she shared an apartment with, and she had just being told that said best friend had a meeting on the following day and she needed the clothes she was washing at that exact minute. Did that week away from her had caused Dylan to develop some kind of conditional disease that made him act weirdly?

“What do you mean I’m sure? Of course I am. She just told me.”

Dylan, who at this point was already unloading all his clothes into another machine, not caring about mixing them up, stopped and looked at the girl. She was leaned over her machine, her brown hair didn’t look as shiny as he knew they were under the incandescent light hanging from the low ceiling of the room. The brick walls contrasted greatly with her now pale skin, so much different than when she first arrived there. She was in great need of a tan to go back to the olive skin he knew that looked so great on her. He wasn’t going to lie: she looked perfect in anyway.

“Well, then why did I get kicked out of my own apartment because your best friend is there to celebrate her anniversary with my best friend?”

She didn’t have an answer. Let hadn’t said anything about it being that Friday. If she remembered well, Let and Tyler’s anniversary weren’t for another whole week, so why were them already celebrating it?

And then it hit her like a brick. “You think they planned it?”

“I’m sure they did,” Dylan said with a roll of eyes. He knew it the moment he saw her sitting with her back to the door, but he didn’t want to be the first one to bring it up. He also quite of agreed with their friends’ decision. They needed to talk. “Tyler keeps telling me we need to talk and I told him it’s kind of hard when the person you need to talk to is ignoring you.” There was a long pause this time, like he wanted her to react to what he had said, but all she could do was stare at the wall in front of her, never meeting his eyes. “What happened to us?” He pressed. “Do you remember anything?”

“Not really,” Ananda sighed. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she felt compelled on talking to him. “I can’t tell if they’re actual memories or just my imagination. You?”

“Kind of the same,” he said coming closer to her tentatively. “I remember enjoying it, though.”

The blood rushing to her face was thankfully hidden by the poor light. Never, in a million years, Ananda would have thought she was going to hear those words coming out of his mouth. It was going to be completely weird to hear it from any other guy, to hear it from Dylan was even weirder. It caused a mix of feelings to swirl in her, like her mind was trying to navigate through a vortex of thoughts and sentiments. She tried to reach for a surface, but there was nothing she could grab onto.

“Is this how it’s going to be for us now?” His voice sounded shallow, like he was tiptoeing around her, speaking carefully so he wouldn’t send them down the hole again. Dylan didn’t want to be away from her anymore.

“What do you mean?”

“Damn it, Ananda, we can barely be alone now,” Dylan said. He was tired and frustrated from everything that was going on, so much he couldn’t put into words. He always knew Ananda was too headstrong, but he never thought it was this much. “You don’t talk to me anymore, you don’t look at me, you don’t answer my texts or calls. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” her voice was so low he thought he had misheard it, but the truth was there. She had said those words.

He smiled for real this time. “So can please put it past us? We don’t even know what really happened,” she gave him a pointed look. “Ok, we know, but we don’t remember. We can move on with our lives and pretend it didn’t happen. How about that?”

“I guess that would be fine.” Ananda, for as much as she liked to pretend that she wasn’t, was an emotive person. She was slowly fighting back the urge to start crying right there.

“I miss my best friend, ok?” Dylan said, his body completely next to hers now. “And the incredible person that she is and I don’t want a drunk mistake to be the thing that puts us apart.”

“Me neither,” she sighed, finally letting go of her stiff position and turning to him, a small smile playing on her lips this time. “You know what? Maybe this was for the best.”

“How?” Dylan scoffed. “How having our relationship shaken up was for the best?”

Ananda bit her lips and shook her head. They weren’t that shaken up, that she knew. Somehow, it just had made them realize how important they were for each other and how much they really cared about one another and when she voiced those thoughts, she saw Dylan’s eye color change slightly. They weren’t so dark anymore. There was light in them again.

“I don’t regret it, though,” he said silently, catching her attention. “Sure, I don’t remember it, but I don’t regret it. If anything, I’m glad it was you. You’re amazing and the level of intimacy we have surely went up by a hundred percent now, and I have yet to find a better girl than you.”

“Are you trying to make me die out of embarrassment?” Ananda was outraged. Did she really hear what she thought?

“I just wish I could remember, ok?” Dylan sighed his body leaning closer to hers. “Because, that way, I would’ve known how it felt, but I can only guess…” His eyes dancing from her eyes to her lips, the tip of his tongue running through his own lips. There was something else in the air, the tension thick. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” she heard herself whispering, her eyes focusing on his for the first time ever since he walked into the room. The sound of the machines was the only noise in the air, but it was completely neglected by them. It was like nothing around them mattered anymore, like the two of them were in a trance.

Their breath mingled, their eyes danced around each other’s faces and their bodies kept leaning into one another. It was pure bliss surrounding them, the rhythm of their hearts beating to the same beat, the anticipation cursing through his veins.

Suddenly, Ananda felt like she was at the end of a first date, that feeling you get when you reach your porch and don’t know what’s to come next. Was he going to kiss her? Would she let him do it? Would it mean anything?

She didn’t know about the first one or the last one, but she was sure about the second question. If he tried, she would let him do it, hell she would even reciprocate. She couldn’t deny that there was a curiosity lurking her mind ever since the previous weekend when she woke up with him by her side, but it was more than that. It was the way he was looking at her, it was the way his eyes flickered when he laughed or how his voice sounded. It was every little thing that she hadn’t paid attention to. It was his smell, the way his hair fell on his forehead, the feeling of his beard against her face. She wanted to have all of that again and remember it this time.

And that was why she didn’t fight back when he finally closed the distance between them, his lips slowly and tentatively pressing on hers, like he was afraid of what her reaction was going to be. It felt like he was having his first kiss all over again, the way his hands were shaking and he didn’t know what to do with them, but he managed it, just like it happened all those years before. And it was blissfully good. The way her lips smoldered against his, so softly at first that he wasn’t sure he was awake.

He didn't want it end; He realized, with a sorrow in his heart, that he didn’t want to let her out of his arms any time soon and that sucked, but he was going to be just great.

Of course nothing was great. Everything was so far from being ok that Dylan wanted to scream at the walls until his thoughts would leave his mind, mostly because it was his fault. It was him who initiated the kiss, it was him who wanted to do that and it was him that couldn’t take it off his mind. And how he hated it.

Things weren’t bad between them, far from it. It felt like they had moved past that week and that everything seemed to go back into place, but while things did look like it on the outside, Dylan was dealing with a lot on the inside. Because there wasn’t a single second he didn’t remember about that kiss in the laundry room or the small smile she had on the second they pulled apart and it was eating him alive.

His day had started like any other and the walk to his work had been nothing but boring, with the same boring people looking at the same boring way. Everything seemed to be grey, like any presence of color had suddenly been forbidden. Even the sky wasn’t in its usual shade of blue. Or maybe it was just him, maybe it was his dark mood affecting everything he touched, because as soon as he pushed the door to the vet clinic open, a radiant smile came into contact with his eyes.

“Good morning, sweetie,” chirped Mrs. Olsen, the receptionist. She was a very adorable lady, with her bright blue eyes and almost completely grey hair. Dylan had yet to see a day she wasn’t smiling at everyone walking through that door no matter what and he had known her for three years.

“Morning, Mrs. O,” he mumbled not even finishing his walk to his office, plopping down on one of the soft chairs in the waiting room, his eyes closed, his arms crossed over his chest and a big sigh leaving his lips. “But nothing’s good coming out of it.”

Had his eyes been opened, he would have seen the old lady send him a quizzical look, her brows scrunching up as she looked at the pile of clothes he had been reduced to. He was always a very charming, very energetic boy and she was used to seeing him oozing excitement every time he walked in, so seeing him mopping was somewhat affecting her.

“What’s the matter, son?” she asked walking from behind her desk, her light footsteps leading her to his side, her small hands brushing the hair from his forehead. “Are you sick?”

Dylan opened one eye, a small smile making way on his lips as he stared at the woman he had come to love as his second mother. She was so genuine in everything she said and expressed that he couldn’t help but be happy at the thought of her being worried about him. He knew that, if needed, she would send him back straight home and not hear a word of his complaints. But that wasn’t the case. He was sick, but not from something that could be cured with a good night’s sleep or some medicine.

“You could say that,” he sighed, his body curling up against the chair as best as he could. “Tell me, Mrs. O, have you ever done something that you shouldn’t and then keep thinking about it all the time?”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Is it something illegal?”

“No, it’s not,” he chuckled. “Though I think it should be.”

Mrs. Olsen eyed the boy, taking her time to try and understand what he was saying. She had been close to him pretty much ever since he had started working in the clinic, automatically making his way through her heart. Dylan was a kind soul, acting respectful towards everyone, never mistreating anyone. He had always been a ray of sunshine in the clinic, so seeing him so down like that morning was not okay with her.

She was certain something had happened over the course of the past week, with his excitement dwindling down each day, but she thought he was just tired and stressed, and thought all he needed was a good rest over the weekend. Now she was rethinking everything. He had bags under his eyes, his hair was a little disheveled and it looked like he hadn’t put any effort into dressing up in the morning, with his black shirt wrinkled.

Although there were a lot of things that could lead Dylan into that state, she also noticed how he hadn’t walked in holding a cup of coffee or his phone in his hand, something he always did. It was customary of the man to have breakfast with a girl she thought very pretty, but he had sworn they were just friends. She guessed it wasn’t the case anymore.

“Is it about a girl?” she asked again, a small smile on her lips. Of course it was.

Dylan sighed and nodded. It wasn’t about any girl, though. It was about a girl he should never think of that way given their previous status and when he told her everything, from the waking up next to her to kissing her on that Friday night, she looked at him like he was talking the most ridiculous things in the world.

“Have I ever told you how my husband and I met?” she had turned completely to him, her small frame fitting into the chair perfectly. “It was in 1969, when we were in high school,” she smiled. “We had the same group of friends and we used to hang out in this diner after school and we somehow ended up being great friends. Everyone thought that there was something going on between us, you know,” she chuckled lightly. “But the truth was that we were such great friends that we could talk about pretty much everything. When his brother died in a car crash, I was the first one he ran to when he found out. When my mom fell sick, I could only find comfort on him and his friendship. It wasn’t until the end of 1970 that I realized that I liked him more than just a friend,” she squeezed his hands in reassurance. “Those feelings, Dylan, the ones that hit us after a while, the ones we never really knew we were looking for, are pretty powerful. They shake us to the core, make we go to hell and back, but they’re usually not wrong. She tried to avoid you, right?” he nodded. “She must have been scared of what she felt. I remember how Howard was scared to tell me he had feelings for me and it literally took him two of our friends to make him do it,” she laughed a little, her eyes scanning Dylan’s, trying to convey as much courage in them as she could. “Talk to her. If you’re scared it might drive her away from you, she wasn’t that good of a friend, but chances are she feels the exact same way.”

He looked at the woman in front of him, his thoughts running a hundred miles per hour as he went over everything she had just told him and he tried to compare it to everything they had lived so far, all the times someone had asked if they were together, how he felt at ease when she was around, how she was always running to him whenever she felt homesick, how they always had fun together and liked to be in each other’s presence more than anything.

Dylan thought of all the times he had wanted to just cut off communication with the rest of the world after a long and exhausting day at work, but then he would see her smiley face and puppy brown eyes, just begging for some kind of attention, a movie night or just talking, and he would give up. He would give up pretty much anything just so she could be happy and he knew she would do the same, she had done the same countless times, and then he smiled.

“You’re right, Mrs. O,” he said, a new found resolution within him. He was going to walk out of that door, march up to Ananda and tell her that everything hadn’t been a mistake. At least not anymore.

But it was so much more easier said than done.

As the days rolled by, Dylan found himself trying to come up with that courage that had invaded him during the conversation with Mrs Olsen, but whenever he saw Ananda, her brown eyes and smiling face, he would start to rethink everything, every life choice he had made so far and his brain would stop working, freezing all of his functions as he just stared at her and tried his best to not act like a complete fool. It was hard, he was pretty sure she was aware of how he could barely talk to her anymore and it pained him.

There was always a lingering silence between them, a thick tension that no one could cut through and it ruined everything. As much as both of them tried to come up with a light conversation, it would soon be over with an uncomfortable smile and their faces turning the other way.

Things weren’t going that differently that night. Dylan had come home a little earlier from the clinic, his shoulders down and his mind set on relaxing for the rest of the night, but the sight of Tyler walking out of his room ready to go out made him hault. He really hoped his best friend wasn’t going to make him go with him.

But, of course, it hadn’t been the case.

“You know how much I had to bargain for that, Dyldo?” he asked, still trying to convince the man. “Let wasn’t keen on letting me have a night out with the guys, but I managed it, and you’re not going to ruin this for me, man. You’re going.”

Dylan sighed. “You go without me, man.”

“I don’t think you’re understanding the situation here,” Tyler grabbed him by the shoulders and, with a stern look, he spoke real slowly. “You’re going with me whether you like it or not. It was one of the terms I had to accept.”

“What?”

“Come on, Dylan,” Tyler rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking for much. You go out for a little while, we have fun, you distract your mind from work and you’ll be home soon enough to spend all the time you want with Ananda.”

Funny how one simple name could make everything change, Dylan thought. Not that he wanted to go out and forget about the girl, but he really needed a time out to think things through. Maybe all he needed was a little bit of alcohol to make his mind clearer and finally understand what was going on with him. How that would work, he had no idea, but he was willing to try.

And that was why the brown eyed man found himself fully dressed, hair styled and ready to leave in no more than 30 minutes, his fingers cracking in anxiety as he waited for Tyler to say goodbye to his girlfriend, her small frame leaned against their counter as she said, one more time, all the things she expected from him and the man, like a well trained puppy, nodded at each word she said. It was funny to watch their interaction, the way she said everything and how Tyler paid attention to every word.

“You take care of him for me, ok, Dyl?” she said to him, a smile on her lips as she made her way to the front door. “And I’ll take care of Ananda for you,” the girl completed walking into the hallway and never looking back, leaving a perplexed Dylan as he tried his best to shout a come back to her.

There was no need on taking care of her for him. They weren’t anything. They didn’t have anything. Sadly.

That was not how Ananda thought she was going to be spending her night.

When Let said she wanted to have a girls’ night, she imagined them going out, shopping, having dinner somewhere or even having a walk down the park, not staying home and watching old movies and eating chinese. They were young, they had worked their asses off the whole week and they deserved to do something, anything at all, that didn’t involve being home, but she had chosen a 84 year-old best friend, by the looks of it.

It was probably the third movie of the night, but she wasn’t paying close attention to it, her mind going back and forth, distracted by the low chimes of her phone whenever a text came through. By the time she had lowered her head to look at her phone for the tenth time during the first five minutes of that movie, Let looked up at her, a scowl on her face as she kicked her friend’s leg from the other side of the couch.

“Who is it that demands so much attention of you?” she asked with a roll of eyes.

Ananda let out a small chuckle and turned the device to the girl, a video of Dylan and Tyler illuminating the screen. They were standing back to back, both men holding a pint glass on their hands as they chugged it down, voices chanting their names in the background as they did their best to finish it first.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Let mumbled, her head shaking. “I told them to be responsible and that’s what they do? I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Come on, Let,” Ananda smiled. “They’re just having a bit of fun. It’s not like you’ve never done it.”

Let blinked a couple of times and shrugged it off. Yeah, she was being a bit of a hypocrite in that situation.

“And why are you seeing these videos?” She asked after a moment of silence, her mind finally catching up on the fact that she hadn’t received any message.

“One of the boys sent it to me,” the Brazilian shrugged. “So we wouldn’t be worried, as he said.”

She hadn’t exactly understood why someone would send her that, but given the fact that Tyler and Let were dating, they assumed all of them were pretty close and wanted to make sure no parts were left out of what was going on with the two boys. At least that was what she thought, until she received another message, a picture this time, of Dylan smiling smugly at Tyler, his hands up in the air as he celebrated his winning. His shirt had ridden up, showing some innocent bit of skin on his stomach, the path leading down to his pants and suddenly her thoughts weren’t so innocent anymore.

But what intrigued her the most, was the caption of the picture. There, in bolded letters, had been written Your boyfriend won.

It wasn’t the first time and it wasn’t going to be the last one. She had lost count of times people had said they were a couple, that they should be a couple or that they would end up being a couple and she was tired of it. They were best friends. Best friends who had slept together after a drunk mistake. Best friends that had kissed one night where no alcohol was involved, but best friends nonetheless.

Ananda couldn’t deny the fact that there was chemistry between them with the playful flirts over the years and knowing what to do around each other, but that was it. They were platonically involved, nothing more. And yet, she couldn’t deny that she wished there could be a little more, that was why she was so scared when she first woke up next to him.

Because she remembered walking in that one class they had shared, looking around and finding him sitting by the end of the third row, his head down reading some book. And then he looked up and she could’ve sworn she felt like she had been knocked off her feet. It was silly, but she felt like his eyes could pierce into her very soul and bring out her darkest secrets. They held so much light and life within them that it seemed just impossible to steer away from it. And that was why she felt compelled to sit next to him, starting then and there something that would lead up to their friendship and unrequited feelings of the present.

She huffed in annoyance at the caption, tired of having to explain to everyone that they were dating.

“Don’t,” was all Let said, her body suddenly behind Ananda’s, her head poking through her shoulders as she read the text still showing on the screen.

“Huh?”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” she explained. “Why do you think everyone thinks you two are together?”

“Hm… Because we have some incredibly noisy friends that like to say those kind of stuff,” the Brazilian girl replied in provocation, but her best friend wasn’t having any of it.

“We can see the way you look at each other,” Let said with a roll of eyes. “Don’t deny it, you like him.”

“Of course I do. As my best friend!” Ananda insisted.

“Ok,” Let sighed, a thought running through her head. If Ananda wasn’t going to admit willingly, she was going to force it out of her. “So you’re telling me you don’t mind he’s out now, having a good time, checking girls out and being checked out?”

Ananda felt something changing inside of her, a slight turn in her chest as she thought about it. There was nothing wrong with Dylan being out and checking girls out, right? He was single, he was free. “Of course not,” she said with certainty.

“You don’t mind that there might be a girl eyeing him up and down and thinking ‘that’s some fine ass’ because it is?” Let pressed.

She could almost picture it. Some girl watching him from the other side of the pub, a low cut dress showing more than it should, her luscious lips adorned in a red lipstick, her pearly white teeth showing as she smiled down at Dylan maliciously.

“Nope,” she mumbled.

“And you don’t mind if she walks up to him, with a smile on her lips, and her hands start to trace his shoulders and arms, going dangerously lower?”

She was walking to him now, more like strutting, making the whole distance between them her runway, her eyes set on him. And he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, too entranced on the beautiful girl in front of him, with her long legs and tall figure, her feet graciously balancing themselves on stupidly high heels, her hair waving back her shoulders. She finally reached him, her hands slowly touching his shoulders as she leaned forward, giving more view of her cleavage, whispering something on his ear, his eyes changing to a dark color as he listened to it, hands grasping her waist.

But it was all in her head and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was going on as the two girls spoke, Ananda’s hands slightly shaking from what she was feeling.

“No,” she said through gritted teeth, her hands balling up in fists trying to contain the sudden urge of punching someone that had overwhelmed her.

“Then it’s fine by me,” Let finally let go, a smirk on her lips as she watched the expression on her friend’s face change from soft to a scowl.

But it was already too late. The imagine was burning into the girl’s mind and she was fighting every instinct inside of her, every fiber of her screaming at her for changing into something more suitable and going after him. But why would she? She thought in a moment of lucidity. He could be with anyone he wanted and she was only his friend, nothing else.

And it was at that very moment that Ananda realized that maybe, just maybe, she needed him more than she thought she did.

However, things weren’t going exactly as the girl had pictured it as Dylan was being dragged out of the bar by his friends with a black eye, a cut on his lips and his knuckles bruised, not to mention the little blood that had found its way to his shirt.

It all had happened way too fast for his liking and when he realized it, he was already at the table next to the bar, his fists flying to the guy’s nose, cutting his story short as he bragged about everything he had done. Dylan had aimed to hit it so hard he hoped it was broken, and by the amount of blood that oozed out of the guy’s nose, he was sure he had done his job perfectly, making him grin to himself. He had wanted to do that ever since he met the guy, years ago.

The poor bastard - not so poor but a bastard nonetheless - was Logan Hersey, a football player back in college that Dylan had the displeasure of meeting after he started dating Ananda. It was hate at first sight for both of them. Logan couldn’t stand the fact that his girlfriend spent too much time around a guy that wasn’t him, always begging her to stop being friends with Dylan, which only added to the hatred the brunette guy felt for the player. For months, they were like water and wine, never really mixing but walking side by side because of the girl and Dylan couldn’t be happier when they broke up.

The guy was a total prat.

And the moment Dylan saw him walking into the pub, he knew his night was going to be ruined. It was like that guy brought grey clouds into the room every time he walked in with his obnoxious friends and the vet warned his friends as soon as they saw the group walking up to a table close to them and did their best to ignore whatever was said in the douchebag’s table - as they had called it - but one can only have enough.

“I date a girl once,” Logan said, his voice carrying over the loud music playing on the speakers, his neck craned to the side in an obvious attempt of making Dylan hear what he was talking about. He had been doing that the whole night. “She was wild,” he laughed. “Brazilians, man, I’m telling you. They do everything you tell them to.”

Dylan knew what was coming and why he was doing that. Logan had some kind of comfort on knowing that he could affect the man when talking about Ananda and he always did that when he was close. Every other time, Dylan had restrained himself because of his best friend, but this time she wasn’t there and they weren’t dating anymore. If Logan said one more thing, he was going to act.

It didn’t take longer than five minutes. Logan was already laughing and bragging about his sexual encounters with the girl once again, his eyes moving to the group of men behind him every now and then, making sure they were listening to everything he was saying.

“Maybe you should have a little more respect,” he heard from behind him, a firm hand clasping on his shoulder rather forcefully, but didn’t back down.

“Oh?” he smirked at Dylan, his head tilting back and looking at the man from upside down. “O’Brien, man, didn’t see you there,” Logan laughed. “It’s been a while.”

Dylan squinted his eyes, choosing not to enter whatever game the other man was playing and said nothing.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be mad at me after all these years,” Logan chuckled. “You can’t get over the fact that the girl chose me over you?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a competition,” Dylan limited himself to say, his face still pulled in a frown.

“Oh, but you see,” Logan smiled and turned in his seat, his front now facing Dylan. “There was a small thing I like to call ‘Win yourself a girl’ and you lost, my friend,” he finished dramatically, his army of friends laughing along adding fuel to the burning hatred Dylan was boiling inside of him. “You can’t be mad at me for scoring the slut, O’Brien. I was going to play dirty to get that hot ass.”

And that was when Dylan felt himself pulling back his arm only to slam it back against Logan’s nose, his fist curled up in a ball, blood oozing out of the other guy and splattering against his shirt. What followed next was a ruckus of chairs being scrapped against the floor and bodies getting up, trying to understand what was going on.

Logan, from the floor, held his nose with both of his hands, tears prickling in his eyes as he tried to understand where he was and what had happened.

“What the fuck?” he shouted, his voice completely muffled by his hands. “Are you fucking crazy, O’Brien? You’re this mad about some whore? You’re too butthurt she didn’t sit on your dick?”

What followed next was a blur of bodies launching at one another, Dylan hitting Logan one more time before one of his gigantic friends pulled him off, hitting him on the lips, a cut busting open almost immediately, which made Tyler and his friends dive into the mess that was going on, fists flying everywhere, occasionally hitting something or someone.

It took four of the securities men to break them apart, Dylan holding Logan’s shirt in his hands as he went for another punch, hoping to crack the asshole’s skull open, but he came into contact with nothing but air, as a big man pushed him away, yelling at both groups to get the hell out of the pub and never come back.

“Damn, Dylan,” Thomas gasped out, his British accent echoing down the empty street as he tried to calm his erratic breathing. “What the hell was that?”

But Dylan couldn’t answer anything. He was still too furious about everything he had heard, his hands still shaking from all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He couldn’t believe he had done it. For the first time in his life, he had been in a fight and, hadn’t him been stopped, he was pretty sure he would’ve beaten the crap out of Logan. There wasn’t a hint of regret on him, the jackass deserving everything that happened to him and maybe more.

Tyler groaned at his side. “Fuck, man. Let is gonna kill me,” he said as he looked at his reflection on a shop window. His jaw was severely bruised, a big purple on his eyes and some swollen lip. That was far from the quiet night he was hoping on having.

The doorbell was ringing unceasingly, waking up not only the owners of the apartment but also some of the other people living on the same floor, much to Dylan’s annoyance. He didn’t need anyone peeking through their doors and seeing him and Tyler all bruised and looking like they had just taken the worst beat ever. They were winning the fight.

The door finally opened, the light from the living room illuminating the hallway, making the two of them presentable to a very frightened Ananda, who had taken in their appearance and closed her hand over mouth, trying to contain a loud gasp. From behind her, it was possible to see a distressed Let, her eyes widening in worry as she looked at her disheveled boyfriend and imagined what had happened.

Tyler walked into the apartment, not even waiting to be asked him, and plopped down the couch, his head resting against the back of it as he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Dylan, on the other hand, was still waiting by the door frame, his eyes searching for Ananda’s who could only look back at him not understanding what was going on, worry flooding her system.

She took hesitant steps forwards, her hands slowly reaching out for Dylan, waiting for him to flinch. When he didn’t, she grabbed his hands and pushed him into her, her arms closing around his middle in a tight embrace, feeling his calm heartbeat against her ear.

“What happened?” she asked slowly, her head tilting back in order to give him a better look, but all she found was a lack of response from him, his eyes set on Tyler, as if telling him to keep his mouth shut. “What happened, Dylan?” When he didn’t say anything, the girl turned to Tyler, her eyes pleading for an answer.

The man sighed, looked at his girlfriend and then at his friend before shaking his head. “We had a run in with Logan and some of his friends.”

Ananda blinked a couple of times before turning to Dylan, her eyes squinted at him as he tried his best to avoid her gaze.

“Logan Hersey?” she asked, but she already knew the answer to that question. There was only one Logan that could provoke such primal instincts on Dylan. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t have a fight with Logan Hersey, Dylan.”

She looked furious and rightfully so. She had lost count of how many times she had asked him to forget about that guy and ignore everything he had to say, but, apparently, she was asking for too much.

“I can’t believe you fucking had a fight with him,” she was fuming, her arms no longer wrapped around him as she paced around the living room, looking at him as she tried to give sense to why he had acted that way. “I told you to not pay attention to anything he has to say, Dylan, that he’s an asshole and wants to get a reaction out of you, but do you fucking listen to me?” Her accent was all over the place now, becoming too thick when she was mad about something and all he could think about was how he found that beautiful. He was screwed.

“He was talking shit about you!” he shouted back, his brain finally being able to function. “I wasn’t going to let him say those things, you know?”

“Oooh,” she laughed sarcastically. “My knight in a shining armor. I don’t fucking care, Dylan! For all I care, he could say that I’m a fucking whore and I wouldn’t mind. Because I don’t mind what his friends think of me, ok? I mind about what you think of me.”

“Well, I care when people talk shit about you, Ananda. Fuck!” Dylan let out, his shoulders relaxing as he walked up to her, grabbing the girl by her arms to make her stop walking around. “I hate it when I have to hear anything bad about you. And it killed me to hear him talking about you like you were a disposable thing,” he took a deep breath, his eyes finally looking into hers. “Fuck, I care way too much about you to let anyone say those kind of things when I’m around, ok? You have a problem with it? Deal with it, because I won’t stop caring about you or about what people say about you.”

The girl stood there, frozen on her spot, her eyes gazing the man in front of her, her thoughts way too confused to think of anything else to say. Of course he would care, he was his best friend, but there was something else lingering between them and she could feel it. She could see it in the way his chest was raising and falling as his breath came out in large puffs of air, the way he was holding her down and looking at her, almost begging for her to understand his reasoning. It was more than what she had bargained for. It went completely beyond their friendship, the platonical feelings they had for each other. Those were long gone now and there was only this vibrant new feeling between them; stronger, burning hotter than ever before.

What broke them apart was Tyler coughing from the couch, reminding them that they weren’t alone. It was possible to see Let rolling her eyes at him before grasping his hands and pushing him down the hall leading to the rooms, annoyance written all over her face as she tried her best to not hit him on the head.

Ananda sighed, her eyes casting down, seeing the bruised knuckles on Dylan’s hand, slowly reaching for them and softly tracing the outline of the wounded skin.

“Does this hurt when I touch it?” she mumbled.

“Just a little bit,” he said with a small chuckle, trying his best to not make a face and betray his words.

“Liar,” she smiled. “I’d hate to see the other guy.”

“Oh, he ended up looking horrible,” he laughed and shrugged, his eyes falling on hers once more.

“Come on,” she tugged on his right hand. “I need to clean your knuckles and cut lip.”

The way to the kitchen was short, but they never let go of each other, not even when Ananda had to open the refrigerator to grab a package of frozen carrots so Dylan could put it on his black eye, or when she had to reach for the top shelf in the cabinet, where she stored the first-aid kit. It caused a little trouble, but neither of them thought about disconnecting their fingers.

“It’s gonna sting,” she said after a while, turning to him with a piece of cotton soaked in antiseptic, right after cleaning the cuts with distilled water. “But you’re gonna be fine.”

The first reaction he had was to close his eyes and wait for the contact that was to come, internally flinching at the pain that was to come. He had done that countless times to a huge variety of animals that came into the clinic, but never had it done to himself, at least not when he was a grown up and after a fight. But he soon learned that he didn’t have to worry about it. Ananda’s touch was so gentle, almost like a caress and the small stinging sensation on his lips was nothing he couldn’t endure.

Almost as soon as it started, it was over. Dylan opened his eyes and came in contact with a void, his good eye trying to find the girl that was in front of him not even a second before, only to find her throwing away everything she had used on him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He didn’t know why he had, but the atmosphere around them seemed so peaceful that he didn’t want to disrupt it.

“Thank you for defending my honour,” she smiled poking his cheek slowly, making sure she didn’t hit his cut lip or his eye.

“I would do that anytime.”

And maybe it was the calm air around them, or the overwhelming feeling of doing something that pressed at his chest, but Dylan found himself leaning in to the girl, his eyes holding her stare, trying to find any sign of reluctance on them, but when didn’t find any, he finally closed the distance between them, his lips pressing hers in a tender way, not moving as if too afraid it was just a dream and he would wake up without her.

It was Ananda who moved first, her lips slowly sliding against his in a slow kiss, her skin prickling and tingling at the sensation of his chapped lips moving against her soft ones, his hands holding her by the waist, pulling her flush against him. It was all a new feeling, something neither of them had ever felt, not even with the shy kiss they had shared in the laundry room.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands running up and down his hair, something she had always wanted to do, involuntarily pushing him harder against her, their lips pressing with more force, making Dylan whimper and pull back.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she bit her lower lip, her eyes scanning his face for any indication of pain.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled and pecked her lips one more time. “But maybe we should lay back on the harsh kisses.”

She smiled, her eyes cast down, her cheeks in a pink hue as she thought about his words. It meant there was more to come, it meant he wanted more from her.

“So where does that leave us?” she mumbled, a bit scared of knowing what his answer was going to be.

“Where do you want it to?” he asked back, his eyes sparkling in the flourescent light of the kitchen, but there was something else too. Hope. “Because I’m right where you are, baby.”

Ananda decided she liked the way the pet name rolled off his tongue and reached her ears. She liked being called that and the fact that he was the one to call her that.

“Are you sure you want this to happen?” she asked cautiously, a glint of mischief on her eyes. “I mean, the World Cup is almost upon us and you know how crazy I get over football.”

“First,” Dylan chuckled. “It’s soccer. Second, I think I can handle you being a little crazy.”

“It’s football because you play it with your feet,” she sassed. “Take it from the girl who comes from the country with 5 titles,” she winked.

The past two hours had been a rollercoaster of emotions, with people screaming at the TV, offenses thrown at the ref and popcorn flying everywhere. Ananda had her head pressed against Dylan’s chest, her eyes closing every now and then, too perplexed with everything going on, too saddened to see her beloved team struggle. It wasn’t what she imagined that would happen and she wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out.

“Do something, Dyl!” she mumbled against his yellow jersey, the five green stars taunting her mockingly.

“What do you want me to do, babe?” he murmured back, his hands stroking her back and caressing her head.

“Get on the field, do something!”

Dylan could only shield her eyes from the TV, shaking his head at her as he tried to think of ways to cheer her up. He had seen her upset over a game, yes. Mad and pissed off too, but never this sad. It was like the other team was a horde of Dementors sucking her soul away and all the happiness the bubbly girl once had.

And then the ref blew the whistle and the air around everyone stopped, no sound coming out of anyone, except for the TV, loud cheers coming from it, but it was the wrong color celebrating.

A wave of red chanted at the top of their lungs, their screams only meaning they had done the unthinkable: they had beat the odds and smashed the team that was seen as the favorite one, crushing the dreams on 200 million people, Ananda included.

All eyes turned to her, hers glued to a point behind the TV set, her frame frozen on the spot, her face stuck on a horror expression. It couldn’t be possible. She was having a nightmare and she was going to wake up any minute now, at the comfort of her own bed without her hopes being left down, because it just couldn’t be.

The girl felt everyone looking at her, their breaths held as they waited for her to say anything, an outburst of any kind, but they only met a complete void, she was just petrified. It was like all her blood had turned cold and her mind buzzed, replaying all the last two hours of her life.

And it was then that the tears came; all at the same time, leaving her eyes like a waterfall glistening under the sunlight, cascading down her face and washing away all the yellow and green makeup she was wearing, her hand reaching her mouth trying to contain the sobs that threatened to come out of her. Her whole body was shaking, fighting back the urge of shamelessly crying in front of all her friends over something as silly as soccer.

Only it wasn’t just that to her. It was a long desired wish, something she wanted so bad to happen, to claim as her own, but now it was out of their reach. Once more, Brazil’s national team had disappointed her and it seemed unfair, because this year they were playing way better than in 2014 and they couldn’t reach as far as they had before. And everything sucked.

She felt herself being pulled against her boyfriend, her face hidden in the jersey she had bought for him, her makeup smearing on the fabric, not a care given as he cradled her in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, trying his best to make her forget all about it.

Slowly, everyone seemed to vanish, their steps echoing around the small apartment, some even walking out of the place and into their own houses until there was only Ananda and Dylan in the once packed living room, the TV turned off, flags and horns abandoned serving as a reminder of what happened not even 15 minutes before.

“This is so ridiculous,” she mumbled, her hands running over her eyes, wiping away the tears and glitter on her face. She probably looked like a mess at the moment and she cringed at the thought of anyone seeing her like this.

“Oh, come on,” Dylan smiled. “It wasn’t that bad. So you cried because your team lost. Mine wasn’t even qualified.”

“That’s because your team sucks, mozi,” she grunted, a long sigh echoing around the room as she stared ahead, thinking about all the missed opportunities of scoring a single goal and buy some more time into the competition.

“Now, we welcome you into our home and that’s how you thank us?” he poked her side, trying to sparkle a laugh out of her. “That’s not nice,” he tried one more time.

She looked at him and laughed a little bit, but a small tear rolled from her left eye, stopping on her cheek as Dylan reached out and wiped it, holding her face in a sweet way.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he said sincerely. “You know that if I could, I would do something, right?”

Ananda smiled at him and nodded. He had been nothing but supportive of her during that half of a month, not caring if she was a little over the top or when she started to curse in Portuguese at everything. Soccer brought her ugly side and she knew that, she was just glad he didn’t mind it.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

“Me?” he scrunched up his face in doubt, holding back a smile when she poked his face.

“Yeah, you,” she laughed.

“That’s because you make me want to be the best.”

And that was nothing but the truth. While they were just getting started on that relationship, there was nothing they wanted more than to be the best versions of themselves for the other. Much more than when they were friends, and much more each new day.

They had, unknowingly, been reaching for that ever since her birthday when they first overstepped the boundaries of friendship and turned it into something else. Because, suddenly, they weren’t just friends who knew everything about each other. Suddenly they were something else, something that craved more and more of each other each day and while it scared them, making them - mostly Ananda - put barriers between their new found feelings and what was to come, it also made them realize that they were never just friends. They could never be just friends.

And it was in the light of the sun streaming through the window on that very sad yet very happy day, that they finally saw how much they meant to each other and how much they had missed all those years.

Forever tag: @disbestiles, @malia--stilinski, @darlinganthony

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