#now that i have this very indulgent fic out of my system i can work on those drabbles
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how filling - che'nya x dom(ish) top amab reader
MINORS DNI
tags: che'nya exhibiting some yandere behavior, stuffing, emeto, mentions of sickness, implied fwb relationship, slightly under-negotiated kink
a/n: unofficial sequel to this fic. you don't have to read it to enjoy this one, but there's some details that are carried over
You’re smirking before Che’nya even opens the door, his genuine look of shock being just what you predicted.
“Surprise…”
“Wha-“ his wide yellow eyes blink slowly as if he thought you were a hallucination. You suppose this is your first time visiting him at the Royal Sword Academy, and it gives you satisfaction knowing you’ve caught him off guard for once.
“Gonna invite me in, kitty? You know I’m really not supposed to be here, so there’s no telling what goody two shoes might report me.” You glance down the dorm hallway, which is thankfully still vacant. Unfortunately, you don’t have Che’nya’s disappearing ability, which allows him to be effortlessly sneaky.
“You never need an invitation” he eyes you curiously as he steps back to let you in, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket that’s draped over his shoulders. You swiftly step inside allowing yourself to scan the dimly lit room, which you’ve only seen in pictures and video calls. Considering you are childhood friends, one would think you would have visited him at some point during the three years you’ve been enrolled at separate schools, but he dropped in on you so frequently there was never a need to.
“How are you feeling?” You set down the bag you brought on his desk. You had brought him some food since he had told you he was slowly getting his appetite back.
“A bit better I suppose” he pouts slightly shuffling back over to his bed. “I’m going to start going back to classes tomorrow.”
“Oh really?” You join him on his bed, and you notice his soft look of surprise when you leave no distance between you two. “I hope you’re not pushing yourself to go back too soon. Someone has been bringing you your work, no?” You can’t help but reach out a hand to try to assess his condition yourself. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, and it feels normal, but you press it to his cheek for good measure. He purrs at your actions, holding your hand against his cheek as he nuzzles into it further.
“You’re not worried about getting sick?” Che’nya looks more like himself than ever glancing up at you seductively with a smirk on his face. “Or maybe you just missed me too much.”
“Says the one who’s texted me nonstop telling me how miserable he is and complained that he had no one to take care of him.”
“No one as fun as you at least” he teasingly kisses the back of your hand that he’s still holding against his face.
“You really must be feeling better” you surmise. If he hadn’t sent you pictures of him looking peakish or voice messages of his terribly hoarse voice, you might believe he exaggerated his sickness to get you to come over. Though you were still suspicious of his intentions when he sent you a picture of him in his bed yesterday, dressed in lingerie and claiming to be “sooo bored.” You couldn’t deny part of you hoped that same lingerie was hidden under his blanket now.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come over when you were sicker”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to come at all, but I’m glad you did” he gives you a toothy grin. “And you brought me something” his eyes glance over to the bag you brought, ears twitching with anticipation.
“Don’t get too excited. I just thought you might like a home cooked meal now that you’re eating more. You are keeping your food down now, right?”
“You made me food?” The second part of your sentence gets ignored as the thought of you preparing something for him evidently fills his head. His starry-eyed gaze keeps shifting from you to the bag, so you figure you might as well offer it to him now, which he readily accepts.
“It’s not anything special. You know I’m not much of a cook, so I just made you your favorite stew and also a strawberry tart, but you don’t have to eat it today of course” Your humble words do nothing to dull his excitement, his eager eyes never leaving you as you take out the stew and use your magic to heat it for him.
“Here you go” You try to hand him the bowl, but he gives you a sly look exposing his bare chest as he pulls his arms out of his blanket.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t seem to have any spare hands at the moment” he shrugs his shoulders as he displays his arms that seemingly have no hands attached.
“How curious…” you steal his common phrase giving him a knowing look. “I guess I’ll have to feed it to you then.”
“I guess so…” Che’nya looks at you innocently, but you can imagine the playful flick of his tail being concealed by his blanket.
He happily accepts spoonfuls of stew, letting out occasional hums of pleasure between bites. Before you know it, he’s cleaned out the bowl and is asking for the strawberry tart. You attempt to get him to hold off to ensure the stew settles well in his stomach, but he insists he’s fine, so you get out the tart.
“And you made this?” The hunger in his eyes appears deeper than a desire for food.
“Yeah. Trey had a busy week, so I didn’t want to bother him with it. I followed his recipe though, so I think it turned out well”
“I’m sure it’s delicious” he assures you. “Especially since you were thinking of me while baking it” he doesn’t even try to veil his delight over the thought. He opens his mouth expectantly and you feed him a bite, choosing not to comment on the reappearance of his hands.
“Mmmm,” he licks his lips as if to savor every crumb. You offer him bite after bite which he chomps on happily.
“Okay maybe we should stop here, and that way you’ll have some more for later.”
“No” he whines. “It’s so good. I don’t want to stop.” He looks at you through his lashes pleading with you. “Please, feed me more.” Against your better judgment, you give in to him.
“Ok… but if you push yourself too far, that’s on you” you warn giving him another bite. He lets out an approving nod, humming happily. You can’t deny it does stir something in you seeing him eat your food so earnestly. You believe your own eyes must be filled with hunger when the blanket slips off his body, revealing him to only be wearing boxers. The band sits below his stomach which has a noticeable bulge.
He rubs it lazily as he takes longer breaks between bites. You assume he’s getting full based on his deeper breathing, but he has yet to refuse a bite, his soft smile never leaving his face. While he seems as content as ever you find yourself shifting in your spot, trying to ignore the feeling of your cock straining against your pants.
You came here as a friend you try to remind yourself, but the praise that falls from Che’nya’s lips doesn’t help your situation.
“Mmmm, I missed being able to eat properly, but now you’ve ruined other food for me. How am I supposed to enjoy anything when I know I could have your cooking instead? It feels so good being full of your food, so you have to cook for me more, okay?” He rubs his belly with both hands as if admiring the bulge himself.
“My belly would definitely get bigger if I got to eat your cooking all the time” he giggles to himself. “Wouldn’t you like to see that” He looks at you suggestively, and you can hardly hold yourself back any longer, moving your body so that you’re straddling his lap. He looks at you with amused curiosity, gently bucking up against you when you rub your hands across his stomach just like he was doing moments prior.
“I would actually” you smirk “But for now, how about you eat these last two bites for me”
“If that’s what you want” he whines a bit when you move your hands, but he looks at you with heavy lust as he wraps his lips around the fork you offer him. He pants slightly as he licks his lips, and you can’t help but offer him the last bite straight from your hands.
He doesn’t immediately take your fingers in his mouth, which is how you know he is reaching his limit. He takes a moment, seemingly steeling himself for the last bite, but eventually opens his mouth allowing you to place the last piece of tart inside. He closes his lips around your fingers, making sure to lick the tip of your fingers before he chews the bite in his mouth.
“Look at you, kitty. You actually ate it all” You go back to rubbing his stomach, letting your fingers drift a little higher to tease his nipples.
“Ah,” he lightly gasps. “I know I could fit more” he slightly lifts his hips so he can slowly grind against you.
“I should have known you’d be insatiable, even when you’re still recovering.” You lean back, letting your fingers lightly trace the stain of precum that marks his boxers. He’s all too eager to help you take off his only piece of clothing. He hisses in pleasure when you finally take him in your hand, but he’s quick to insist you rid yourself of your clothes too.
Just as eager to feel his touch, you don’t argue, swiftly getting off him so you can fulfill his request. You lay beside him now, his hands immediately going to stroke you. Your intermingled moans fill the space between you as you get each other off. You take your other hand and rub it against his tip, causing his hips to jerk. His head falls against your shoulder as he lets out a strangled moan, and you continue your movements.
“Please… I’m ready for you…” he manages to pant out. “…wanna be full.”
“I don’t know if you should take me.” You can’t help but still be concerned about his limits.
“But I wan-“ He interrupts his own sentence with a cough, barely managing to cover his mouth. He pauses for a moment, but another harsh cough racks his body, most likely remnants of the sickness he had. He slowly sits up, facing away from you as he sits at the edge of the bed. Even though he stopped coughing, he still sits frozen, hand covering his mouth.
“Che’nya?” you have a feeling you know what’s wrong and those thoughts are soon confirmed when he starts his next coughing fit. Instead of covering his mouth, he instantly reaches for the wastebin by his bed that’s half filled with tissues. He clutches it tightly his cough suddenly turning into retching.
At the sound of him emptying his stomach into the wastebin, you quickly move so that you’re by his side. You soothingly rub his back as he continues to vomit, waiting patiently for him to get it all out.
“Fuck” he rasps out, a trail of saliva still hanging from his bottom lip and tears dotting the corner of his eyes. He wipes his mouth then takes a deep breath as he looks up, closing his eyes. Your hand that’s on his back drifts up to the nape of his neck where you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger.
“This is where you say I told you so” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, managing a small smirk. He doesn’t even wait for you to answer, softly chuckling to himself. “But I would do it again”
“My food was that good, huh?” There’s doubt laced in your words.
“Hmmmhmmm” he hums, his eyes are closed again, and you wonder if he’s feeling another wave of nausea, but he puts the wastebin back on the floor instead. “What can I say? I’ll always want all of you”
“I know” are the words you choose to say after a beat of silence. Instead of further acknowledging his feelings you bring a hand to his stomach, rubbing small and gentle circles across his abdomen.
He lets out a sound that is both a sigh and a moan. You haven’t even touched his nipples and yet he seems to be turned on, his dick twitching. “I think I want you to fill me up even more now” he admits.
“If that’s what you want” you graze your finger over his nipple while planting a kiss on his shoulder. His breathing becomes ragged as you tease his skin between your teeth. You play with his chest for a bit longer before asking him where he keeps his lube.
Che'nya lays on his side, massaging his stomach as he waits for you. Despite his flushed face, his tail still moves with eager anticipation as you settle in your place behind him. He's quieter than usual, only making a soft pleased sound as you push your fingers into him.
“More” he begs, and you oblige, finally lining your cock up with his entrance.
“Let me know if you need me to stop” you remind him before pushing your tip in. You slowly bottom out waiting until he gasps for you to move to continue with your thrusts.
“Fuck…you feel so hot and tight around me, kitty” You snap your hips into him a bit harder. “It feels so good”
“Ah- “ Che’nya grips his bedsheets tighter, and you hear a gurgling sound come from his stomach.
“Don’t stop” he whimpers feeling you hesitate. You place your hand on his stomach and feeling it rumble beneath your touch, you fuck into him with new fervor.
“Aghh” he gasps and leans over off the bed just in time for a thin stream of vomit to make it mostly into the wastebin. With Che’nya’s walls squeezing tightly around you, you reach your climax with a couple more thrusts. He holds your hand that rests on his stomach and whines as he feels you fill him up.
Keeping yourself buried in him, you move your other hand to his cock to help him finish, which only takes a few strokes. You take in his dazed expression and faint smile, feeling an urge to kiss his sweat slicked skin. He whimpers at the feeling of your lips on his neck, his classic Cheshire grin appearing as you trail slow kisses up his jawline.
“Yup,” he sighs blissfully. “I would definitely do it again”
#now that i have this very indulgent fic out of my system i can work on those drabbles#che'nya x reader#cw emetophobia#emeto#cw sickness#stuffing#twst smut#twst x male reader#twst ☆ che'nya !
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Shots, shots, shots (Part 1)
Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC
Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)
WC: 4.8k
Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, drinking games, making out
Disclaimer: no smut yet, smut is in the next part. not an american, idk anything ab frat culture and the american college system in general, so there’s gna be some inaccuracies. this is just based on the frat fics ive read and my own college experiences.
a/n: was supposed to be a one-shot but i suddenly wrote 10k words💀 although i know nothing ab frat culture, how my american friends describe it is basically like any faculty organization in an indonesian uni lmao so hope my knowledge of how those orgs work help this a slight bit. anyways hope you enjoyyy <333
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Nick is most definitely not having fun.
He frowns as he feels the bitter burn of his fifth (or was it sixth?) shot going down, tipping his head back to get it to go down easily, well and truly smashed at this point. Madi would be proud. Speaking of… he hasn’t seen his best friend since they arrived at the party, the girl pestering him for hours earlier in the day to come party with her. Madi is tired of listening about The Breakup, and to be honest, Nick is too, but he didn’t agree to come with Madi only to have his supposedly best friend ditch him at the door, leaving him alone at a frat party where he knows absolutely no one. Especially not just so she can run off and suck face with some junior.
Nick spies his best friend making out with a boy he doesn’t know, back to him through the haze of the crowd, barely visible in the shitty purple LED lighting, especially with everyone packed into the house like sardines, the place filled to over capacity so that no one can move without being pressed up against someone or another. Well, unless they are sticking to the wall like Nick currently is. And he’s about to go give his friend a piece of his goddamn mind when he hears the voice beside him, his irritation still visible on his face as he turns to look.
“Hey.” The boy is staring at him with an intensity that is disarming, dark eyes set in an intense unwavering gaze as he looks, just enough light to make out the half-smile on the other boy’s face, only one corner of his mouth upturned slightly. The boy’s hair is half in his face, looking damp and mussed like he’s just stepped out of the shower. And Nick trails his gaze downwards, appreciating the other boy’s outfit, a black t-shirt with some obscure band logo, sleeves cut-off hastily, clearly homemade, the edges ragged, showing off the nice curves of the boy’s shoulders, the definition of his upper arms from hitting the gym obvious. All thrown over a pair of oversized black jeans.
The other boy is looking at him like he wants him, and Nick is too far gone to stop the delicious pit of arousal churning in his stomach, the euphoria going straight to his head, making him dizzy with desire. He’s not the type Nick usually goes for, in fact, the boy is the exact opposite of his ex, but that doesn’t stop his body from screaming fuck me now. “I haven’t seen you around before. Transfer or something?”
The question makes Nick give out a little snort of laughter. “No, not at all. Just not my scene.”
“Oh?” The boy raises an eyebrow questioningly, his tone clearly teasing as he slides in closer to avoid another boy trying to make his way past the two of them squeezed into the corner. Nick inhales sharply as the boy moves in closer, trapping him, his back pressed up against the wall with no room to go back further, the other boy bringing his arms up to brace against the wall, forming a makeshift barrier around Nick, casually caging him in. As he does, the smell of beer hits his nose, a smell he normally despises, but it’s mixing with something the boy is wearing underneath, something sweet and woody, and the combination is fucking intoxicating. “And what would be your scene then?”
He ignores the question, not wanting to say that maybe his scene is in his room, pitifully stuffing himself with fast food and crying into Madi’s shoulder about his ex months after the breakup, choosing instead to shift the topic, mumbling. “You smell like shitty ass beer.”
“Shit, sorry.” The boy relaxes his arms, his face softening into a sheepish apologetic look that Nick finds almost endearing, backing up a step so that he’s not so deep into Nick’s personal space, and Nick takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartrate. “Got doused with beer earlier when they were spraying it into the crowd.”
“Seems like a waste of alcohol if you ask me.” The unexpected response makes the other boy’s eyes go wide, a moment of silence before he bursts out into raucous laughter.
“Yeah, shit, it probably is.” Nick hates that his breath hitches automatically as the other boy runs his hand through his black hair, shaking his head in apparent exasperation, looking unfortunately all too attractive in the process. “Imagine how many people could be more drunk than they already are if they hadn’t wasted all that beer.” The boy shoots him a grin, which he finds himself returning, or at least he hopes he is.
“So how did you get here?”
“My best friend, Madi. She dragged me here.” Nick admits, a slight eye-roll accompanying the statement. “Otherwise there’s no way I would come to a party in a dump like this. Complete shithole. Floor is disgusting, and the whole place looks like it’s going to collapse in on itself if they throw another couple of parties.” He finds himself having to yell to be heard, the music playing far too loud, the bass turned up so that he can quite literally feel the floorboards vibrating underneath his feet.
To Nick’s surprise and appreciation, the other boy appears to take an interest in listening to him, craning in closer and cocking his head to the side to hear better. His ex was an asshole that wouldn’t bother to make sure he was comfortable at parties, even after knowing Nick didn’t love large crowds, preferring to hang out with small groups of people instead. Plus points. “Oh, I know Madi, met her at a general ed class last semester. She’s also friends with one of the frat bros here, I think. Nate. Anyways, enough about your friend. I haven’t even gotten your name yet.”
“It’s Nick.”
“Nick.” The other boy repeats it, long and drawn out as he rolls the sound around in his mouth, and the thought of the other boy saying his name as encouragement flashes in his head, mentally kicking himself for even thinking about blowing this complete stranger already within ten minutes of meeting. It’s the alcohol talking, definitely the alcohol. He desperately tries to repeat it to himself and believe it as he watches the other boy bite his lower lip in thought. Fuck. Yeah, so maybe it isn’t the alcohol making him want this boy. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t been fucked since The Breakup. Which was 3 months ago. Nick scowls. Fuck Madi for telling him he needs to get laid, and double fuck Madi for being right.
“And yours?”
“Evan. My name’s Evan.” The name sounds familiar, but Nick can’t quite place it, putting aside the feeling for now, instead choosing to concentrate on his plan of perhaps getting laid tonight. Which shouldn’t be hard considering the way Evan is looking at him right now. Like he wants to ravish Nick. With maybe a touch of possessiveness. Nick doesn’t mind the possessiveness, as long as they don’t go overboard. Possessive makes for a good fuck.
He gives in.
I’m here already, might as well have a good time.
He turns on the flirtiest smile he has, his lips curling into a natural irresistible pout as he keeps talking, his hand coming up to brush Evan’s arm, his fingertips lightly grazing the other boy’s bicep. Very obvious, very forward. No one would ever accuse Nick of being subtle, especially when it comes to getting what or who he wants. “Well, Evan, since this does seem to be your scene and not mine, what would you say to being responsible for me having a fun time tonight?” The words have the desired effect, Nick tracing the tightening of the other boy’s jaw with his eyes, pleased at the barely veiled show of restraint.
Nick feels a shiver of anticipation run up his spine as Evan leans forwards, tilting his head downwards as he speaks, the other boy’s hot breath against his earlobe, pressed in so close that Nick can feel the ghost of a touch from Evan’s lips. He isn’t able to prevent the gasp from escaping when he feels the other boy’s tongue, teeth giving him a quick nip. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby. I am at your service. For anything you want.”
The words make Nick bristle, bringing both palms up to push at the other boy’s chest, startling Evan into stepping back off-balanced. “I don’t like being called baby.” He mutters. “Don’t do that.” His ex had called him baby, as an insult, somehow managing to insinuate every time that Nick was too demanding, too high maintenance, turning the word into a mocking reprimand each time. “My ex used to use that.” He pauses a beat. “Not in a good way.”
“Oh, shit.” Evan frowns, his eyebrows drawn together giving almost a menacing look, and Nick feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Evan losing interest. Maybe I came off too strong. “Your ex sounds like an asshole.” He lets out the breath he doesn’t even realize he was holding, a ripple of relief running through him. “And all I meant…” Nick’s breath catches as the other boy slides his hand underneath his chin, tilting it upwards as he speaks. “…is that you look pretty. Delicate. Like someone who deserves to get everything they want.”
Everything they want.
The words make Nick flush, the heat crawling up the base of his neck, stinging his cheeks. I want you. And his first instinct is to throw all caution to the wind and regret his decisions tomorrow morning after the alcohol has worn off, when there isn’t a buzz in his veins making him want to throw himself at this boy. And he desperately wants it to be just a physical thing, after all, he doesn’t really know this guy. He could turn out to be some weirdo psychopath for all he knows, but damn it if it doesn’t make him feel good that this boy thinks he deserves everything. But before he can open his mouth and resign himself to his fate, a hand appears on Evan’s shoulder, accompanied by the loud voice of another boy.
“Hey, bro.” The hand on Evan’s shoulder becomes an arm pulling the taller boy into a half-headlock of sorts. “Not like you to hide away in the corner for so long. Don’t you miss being the life of our party?” The boy turns slightly, catching a glimpse of him, and Nick becomes acutely aware that he’s probably gaping. “Oh, I see now.” The boy gives him a salacious and knowing wink, casting a sidelong glance at Evan. “You must be the reason our leader here is hiding instead of greeting the guests.”
Leader?
The new boy smiles at him, bringing his free hand up in a little wave of acknowledgment. “I’m Nate, by the way.” Nate squints, giving him a careful once-over, and Nick feels like squirming, getting the distinct feeling that he is being sized up though he doesn’t know for what. “You’re Nick, aren’t you?” Nate grins excitedly at the realization. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Madi.”
Nick furrows his brows thinking how does he know Madi and why Madi’s talking about him, getting more lost within the conversation by the second. “Madi said he’d be your type, and it looks like he was right. Fuck.” Nate lets out a string of profanity, “Fuck me, Evan. That means I owe her fifty bucks. So really, fuck you.” Nate narrows his eyes at Evan, who isn’t even trying to hide his mirth, chortling at his friend’s distressed expression. “Unless, you two dickwads set me up.”
Evan shakes his head. “No, man, I didn’t even know who he was until he gave me his name.”
“Fuck.” Nate lets out one last swear in a drawn out sigh, smiling fondly at Evan. “Well, I hate to interrupt the overwhelming sexual tension between you two, but I do think our new president should give a speech at our first party of the year.”
“President?” Nick echoes the word without meaning to, the sound of loud buzzing in his ears drowning out the sound of everything else around them, noting the shit-eating grin on Evan’s face that is getting wider by the minute.
“Yeah, president of Chi Alpha Omega. You know, the ones hosting this party right now.”
Nick can feel the color draining from his face, accompanied by some wooziness in his head. Madi had told him about the president of ΧΑΩ before, about how he “got around” quite frequently, always with someone new every other weekend. And apparently in no short supply of people who want to casually hook-up with him. In short, a player through and through. And Nick can’t tell whether he’s disappointed that Evan is probably not interested in any type of relationship or just excited that the boy is likely a really good fuck. Or both.
But none of that really even matters because he had literally called Evan’s house a shithole.
Fuck.
Evan winks at him before turning to Nate. “Yeah, I can definitely say a few words. And by the way, Nick here thinks we should probably stop spraying beer into the crowd to hype up the party.” He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the overly serious and solemn expression on Evan’s face as he says that. “Apparently we’ve been wasting alcohol when we could be using it to get everyone even more drunk.” Nick wants to sink into the floor at the other boy’s next words, hoping desperately that the ground can swallow him up.
“And he’s also made me aware of the fact that apparently, we live in a shithole.”
Nate’s eyes go wide. Nick wants to kill himself.
“Well, not exactly a lie.” Nate laughs, clearly bemused by his worried expression. “We’ve been trying to get administration to move us out of this shithole for ages. They just won’t do it. So we figure if we throw a few extra ragers this year, and this dumpster fire of a house finally breaks, maybe they’ll consider letting us have a different building for the frat house.”
“Wait, so…” Nick says the words slowly, his head slow to catch up, not quite believing what he’s hearing. “…you all actually want to break this house. Like that’s your actual plan, and I’m not stuck in some weird-ass twilight zone time warp imagining this.”
“Correct.” Evan nods.
“You all are fucking crazy.”
“Correct.”
“Sooo, about that speech Evan?” Nate asks, stealing another glance at Nick. “Any time soon? Or am I assuming that you’re gonna be busy for the next hour or so?”
The implication makes him half-cringe on the inside. Is it that obvious?
“Yeah, of course, now is fine.” And then Nick feels the other boy’s hand around his, Evan’s fingers settling to interlock with his naturally as if they belong there, warm and inviting. A little overly warm, probably the alcohol. But it feels nice, gives him the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest for the first time in a long time. “You’re coming with me, baby.” Nick wants to protest the nickname, but he isn’t given the opportunity to, finding himself being dragged along by the taller boy, weaving through the crowd of people deftly, trying to keep close to the other boy’s back, his free hand reaching out to grab the untucked edge of Evan’s t-shirt. The other boy heads to the kitchen, passing by the crowd that is busy dancing, flirting, and Nick reminds himself to yell at Madi tomorrow, spotting his best friend out of the corner of his eye still attached to the face of a guy.
The kitchen is slightly less crowded, the only people slipping in and out to grab more beer or shots, the entire kitchen counter covered with half empty alcohol—rum, vodka, gin, whiskey. God, how much booze do they have? Evan doesn’t let go of his hand as he opens the fridge, rummaging around before finally coming up with another handle of vodka. The taller boy just shakes his head as Nate gives him a questioning look. And then Nick follows as he is dragged along again, making their way back to the living room, heading straight towards the epicenter of all the noise in the house. Evan finally lets go of his hand, and Nick feels a twinge of concern as he watches the other boy climb up onto the ping pong table, ignoring the cry of protests from the people playing beer pong. No way he’s sober enough for this. Somehow Evan’s voice is louder than the music, his voice floating above the noise.
“Hey, we having fun tonight?” The cheers and hoots rise up from the crowd, Evan clearly reveling in the attention, waving his arms to tell everyone to pump up the noise, and they do. After a minute or so of cheering, the other boy puts his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, quieting the crowd.
“Here’s to the first party of many this year for Chi Alpha Omega. As the president for this year, hope to see all of you underclassmen at rush in the spring.” Evan grins, and Nick hates that the other boy is so charismatic, everyone in the room turning to hang on to his every word. “And to kick off a good night, how about yours truly start off a round of body shots?” The crowd hoots and hollers. “First up, my newest friend, Nick.” He feels himself outright blushing this time, Evan looking downwards to wink at him, some of the people in the front of the crowd turning to stare.
He startles as Evan jumps down from the ping pong table, landing unevenly, grabbing on to his shoulder for balance before scooting back on to the table to take a seat, his legs hanging off the edge. “How about it, baby?”
And he’s about to object, but his mind goes completely blank as Evan crosses his arms over his chest, gripping the hem of his t-shirt in order to pull it up over his head, the other boy’s arm muscles tightening. The skin above Evan’s jeans comes into view first, the white band of the other boy’s Calvin Klein boxers just peeking out from the top, a sharp contrast from the smooth tan of Evan’s skin on top and the black of his jeans on the bottom. Nick can see a glimpse of the other boy’s hip bones, sharp and defined, and his gaze trails further upward to his belly button, abs slightly visible as Evan moves, and all the way up to the other boy’s chest.
But it’s the tattoo that makes Nick stop breathing.
It’s intricate, clearly well done and by a tattoo artist that cares about how the finished product looks, a revolver with its barrel pointing downwards, the tip disappearing under the white of the other boy’s boxers. And Nick doesn’t think he’s ever had a specific thing for guns. But fuck. Because he wants to think that he’s better than this, better than having the only thought running through his head being it’s pointing to his cock. And the overwhelming urge to find out just exactly how true it is.
“You’re up, baby.” The words make Nick snap his glance upwards, tearing his gaze away from the ink on the other boy’s skin, the embarrassment flitting through him as he realizes how long he had been staring, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Evan, who is grinning at him, definitely amused. He’s already poured the shot, messily spilling at least two shot’s worth of vodka on the ping pong table, and Nick experiences a stroke of utter insanity, the words coming out before he can stop them.
“You should probably clean that up.”
“Hmm, maybe later.”
“It’s going to get sticky.”
“Maybe I like sticky.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that the whole scene is probably bizarre as fuck, talking about cleaning while the whole room is waiting for him to take a shot off a boy he doesn’t even know. But Nick feels as if he’s in a haze, entirely blocking out the rest of the room as Evan crooks a finger at him, motioning for him to get closer, the other boy’s legs parting on the table, stretching apart to give him room to fit in between, and Nick is uncomfortably aware of Evan’s jeans, the material stretching over the other’s boy’s thighs, even tighter now that Evan is sitting.
“Come.”
He comes.
The shiver of arousal runs through him as he gets closer, coming up to the edge of the table, Evan winking at him as he squeezes Nick’s sides slightly with his thighs, making the feeling curl deliciously in his groin. And the other boy lies down slowly, not breaking eye contact with Nick as he does, and god help him, because it only makes the outline of the other boy’s abs deepen. Fuck. The shot glass is placed right over Evan’s belly button, wobbling as the other boy breathes in and out, and Nick winces as Evan starts off a chant of encouragement.
“Drink, drink, drink.”
Fuck it, it’s just one shot.
He doesn’t try to overthink it, leaning down with his head to clumsily grasp the shot glass with his mouth, intending on throwing his head back and downing the vodka all at once. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything as he braces his palms against the other boy’s thighs, enjoying the feeling of muscle underneath his hands. But he’s not used to the motion, not able to use his hands, and he ends up spilling half of it, feeling Evan’s thighs tense around his waist as the cold liquid hits the other boy’s bare skin, some of the vodka settling into the crevices of Evan’s abs, already starting to slide off his body.
Nick doesn’t know why he does it.
But the next instant, his tongue is on Evan’s skin, feeling the other boy tense as he does it, licking the rest of the vodka off of the other boy, the feeling of burning still in the back of his throat from the half he does drink, dipping his tongue in to run along the grooves of Evan’s abs, the slight saltiness of the other boy’s sweat mixing with the taste of alcohol. And he’s pressing half-kisses, half sloppy licks against the other boy’s skin, the tips of his fingers reaching upwards from where they’re resting against Evan’s thighs to brush against the boy’s sharp hipbones, an inch or so above his jeans.
As he dips his tongue into his belly button, Evan bucks his hips upwards, the wanting movement making the arousal go straight to his cock. And he tells himself it’s because he’s trying to clean every last bit of vodka off of Evan’s body, but it isn’t the alcohol giving him a high as he runs the tip of his tongue slowly down the barrel of the gun tattoo that Evan has, the thought of going further and further down until he reaches the other boy’s cock making him hot and dizzy. The thought of Evan holding his head down and tugging on his hair as he gives the other boy a blowjob. Further, further. Evan squirms as he licks his way downwards over the exposed skin, and Nick wonders if it tickles, his nose already nudging the edge of the other boy’s boxers.
A bad fucking idea.
And he’s just about to pull away, the feeling of regret mixed with horror hitting him as he surfaces from his reckless decision, half-aware that they’re still in a very public room for the first time since Evan had told him Come, when he feels it. Evan half-hard against his palm, his hand accidentally brushing too close to the other boy’s inner thighs as he tries to move back, and before he can process that fact, everything around him moves.
Nick yelps as he feels Evan’s hands on the back of his thighs, dangerously close to his ass, and he’s suddenly being lifted up into the air, his legs coming up to wrap themselves around the other boy’s waist, his hands grabbing at Evan’s shoulders to balance himself. He vaguely hears the sound of catcalls coming from the crowd, his head falling forward, his face buried into the crook of the other boy’s neck, the smell of beer in Evan’s hair and that smell of wood and vanilla. A few quick strides, and Nick finds his back up against the wall for the second time tonight, Evan’s hips pressed into him, grinding him up against the wall as he plants kisses against Nick’s neck.
The other boy is definitely completely hard now, the feeling against his thigh each time Evan moves his hips making the arousal tighten in Nick’s groin. And it’s a fleeting thought, that he is grateful for wearing a white tank top, giving Evan free access, the other boy’s tongue darting out to run itself along the top of Nick’s collarbones, sucking likely-to-be-hickeys into his skin hungrily.
His fingers curl themselves into the other boy’s hair for purchase, needing something to grab onto as he writhes in Evan’s embrace, his eyes closed, his breath coming out ragged. An unbidden moan comes forth as he feels Evan sneak his hands underneath his tank top, the other boy’s fingers splayed against the skin at his waist, his thumbs digging into the spot just above his hipbones. Evan’s hands feel hot against his skin, burning into him more than he thought possible, and Nick’s eyes flutter open only to remember that everyone is still there, that they’re not alone.
“W-wait,” The words come out weakly in between little pants and far too soft for Evan to hear anyway, and Nick wonders if the idea of the other boy fucking him against the wall in front of a crowd of people should turn him on as much as it does. Fuck.
“Get a fucking room!”
The loud jeer seems to snap Evan out of it, the other boy stopping his attack against Nick’s neck long enough for him to catch his breath. Most of the room has gone back to whatever they were doing before, and it’s nearly impossible to pick out whoever had yelled it. “Don’t mind if I do.” Evan grins at him, not waiting for a proper response. “Hold on.” Nick just manages to get his arms around Evan’s shoulders before the other boy starts moving, hoisting him up slightly to get a better grip on the underside of his thighs, Evan’s chin nestled into his shoulder, the other boy’s breathing hot on his neck.
The sounds of the party slowly start to fade away as they ascend the stairs to the second floor, the stairway narrow and not lit, and Nick winces as he is jostled against the wall a few times on their way up, Evan’s steps not as steady he would have hoped. All he can hear now is the other boy’s breathing, slow and deep, the sound comforting, and Nick breathes in and out to match the other boy’s. I wonder if Madi was right, and I’m his type. And he’s sure that he’s Evan’s type physically, the whole display downstairs has convinced him of that, but for the first (okay, maybe second or third) time tonight, he has the niggling suspicion that he might like it if he is Evan’s type for more, the way the other boy puts him at ease so naturally and effortlessly perhaps giving him more butterflies than he’d care to admit.
His mind unwillingly flashes him scenes on what it would be like dating Evan. Would he like his eggs scrambled or poached? What shows would they binge together? Would Evan show him off to his frat brothers?
Evan licks a stripe behind his ear where he’s most sensitive. Ah, fuck it. Who cares about dating? Nick knows he’s going to get fucked till he forgets his own name tonight.
tags: @thenickgirl @mybelovednick @sukiipjs
#nick sturniolo#nick sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo x oc#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo x male reader#nick sturniolo fanfiction
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I have an angsty (self-indulgent) req…
I struggle heavily with superstition and pattern-based compulsions, and I was curious if I could get a Jake or Johnnie fic where one of them sees the reader getting stuck in a harmful pattern (trying to match pain from scratches on both arms, knocking on their head for good luck, trying to avoid cracks/lines on the sidewalk, etc.)
-🫠
Summary : You struggle a lot with your compulsions and mental health, but your boyfriend is always there to make sure that you can relax.
Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (romantic)
Warnings : Harmful pattern based actions, superstitious behaviors
Word Count : 718
A/N : i've never written anything like this req, so i really hope i did it justice! if i didn't please give me constructive criticism! my inbox and dms are open if you ever need to chat <3
Superstitious and compulsion based behaviors were a lot to deal with, and you knew that better than anyone in your personal life. You had struggled with them really badly for a long time, and it had damaged a lot of your life. You considered yourself very lucky sometimes, though, because you had a lot more support now than you did in the past, and the support system that you did have was absolutely amazing. You had two amazing best friends, one of whom was your boyfriend, and having dealt with struggles in his life, he was always so incredibly kind with you.
He was always patient, gentle, much softer than he was on camera, and you appreciated his tenderness so much. You couldn’t have imagined a better life partner than the man that you were with right now, and you truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. Having been with him for upwards of a year now, he was able to recognize when you were beginning to struggle, and always able to gently calm you down, keeping you comfortable and feeling safe. He was perfect, and was always there when you needed him, like today.
Today you were having such a difficult day, many different things bothering you and being just uncomfortable enough to cause you to become frustrated. You managed to hold it together until the evening, when you were laying down with Jake, and you automatically felt a little bit better because of the fact that you were with your boyfriend, who was your safe space and comfort person, but you were still not quite calmed down. Jake was rubbing your arms with his, you wrapped up against him, and he had no idea that he was going to unintentionally cause a near breakdown within the next couple of minutes.
It wasn’t for another few moments before one of his nails caught the perfect angle to end up scratching your arm, causing you to gasp in pain and surprise, and him to immediately panic and apologize. He kissed right over the spot that he had accidentally created, attempting to soothe it. However, with how worked up you had been from your long day, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Jake’s heart broke when he realized there were tears forming in your eyes. He immediately wiped them away, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, hoping on everything that you would be okay.
He hugged you tighter, whispering soft comforts while his hand was gently running up and down your arm, trying to massage the feeling of pain away, but all he was doing was making you aware of how uneven your arms felt, and he had no idea that he was making it worse until you had teardrops rolling down your face, trying to resist the urge to scratch your other arm, making it match the same pain so you could relax again. He wiped those tears away immediately as well, pressing a kiss on nearly every spot on your face, hoping to get a smile to break onto your face.
Unfortunately, after a couple more minutes of those, you couldn’t take it anymore, and ripped out of his grasp, using your own nails to run down your other arm, tears steadily flowing. He immediately grabbed your hands, pulling you close into his chest and firmly but not harshly keeping your hands away from your arm, holding you as you gave up in his hold, sobbing.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay. It’s okay, honey, it’s okay…”
He knew you probably weren’t processing a lot of what he was saying, so he simply repeated the same words of comfort, keeping you close to him and making sure you were wrapped up tightly in his arms, pressing kisses to the top of your head. The pressure was helping you relax and was also keeping you from hurting yourself, and he stayed like that until you stopped crying, wiping your tears away with his thumbs, holding you until you eventually exhausted yourself. He was the boyfriend who could easily pick you up, helping you to bed, and holding you until you fell asleep in his arms. You knew you struggled, but you also knew that he would always be here for you.
~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @maddytheweird @707xn @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt
~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!
~ my inbox is open, come chat!
#johnnie guilbert#johnnie guilbert fanfic#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert fic#johnnie guilbert fanfiction#johnnie and jake#fanfic#jake webber fluff#jake webber fanfic#jake webber fanfiction#jake webber#jake and johnnie#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert age regression#jake webber age regression#jake webber agere#johnnie guilbert agere#little johnnie guilbert#little jake webber#caregiver jake webber#caregiver johnnie guilbert#jake webber headcanons#jake webber thoughts
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The moment it became unbearable
PAIRING | Fiancé!Bucky Barnes x Fiancée!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1.4K
SUMMARY | Your anxiety has been getting worse the last few weeks and you've reached your breaking point. When your emotions are at the point you're having a panic attack, Bucky is called away from his mission to help you get through this, just like he'd done so many times before.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Lots of angst, reader is going through a pretty severe episode of anxiety, mentions of blood/bloody knuckles, mentions of a panic attack, Bucky being the best fiancé ever, and lots of cuddles and fluff in the end.
A/N | This is a very self indulging fic because my anxiety is getting pretty severe, so I just need to write my problems away. I understand it completely if this fic is not for you and you choose not to read this, there is plenty of other work that might be more suited to what you're looking for! 💜
A/N 2.0 | I want to thank @suzipanini for giving me the idea to write this fic, and for always listening to my complaining whenever I need to do so. You're an absolute angel sent from heaven and I love you! 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
You had been feeling like something was wrong for a while, but you just couldn't quite place your finger on the problem. Some days you started to eat a whole lot more, overstuffing yourself even, other days you barely ate anything and were content with a few small snacks. Some days you're the light of everyone's life, other days your mood has turned so sour everyone stays as far away from you as possible. And to make everything even worse, Bucky is on a long undercover mission which means he can barely talk to you if he can at all.
Your physical appearance is also starting to get worrisome, your nails have been bitten to the point that they're bleeding yet you continue to bite them, and there's nothing left of the beautiful manicure you had done not even a week ago. Your anxiety is eating away at you from the inside out, and now you're starting to return the favor to your body by starting your bad nailbiting habit again. All the while all you can think about is how bad your anxiety is getting, and the one person you want to tell more than anyone is not here. And he's not going to be here for another few weeks if not months.
The feeling of impending doom is creeping up more and more, and you're trying to get some of it out of your system by going to the gym, and that seems to work. However, it seems to work a little too well because you're starting to overdo it, your knuckles are completely raw and bloody from how much you've been hitting the punching bags lately. Anything to keep the voice inside your head from telling you everything is going to be doomed. That you're doomed. And it works for quite a while until Steve starts to notice something is wrong.
You were bandaging your knuckles in the locker room attached to the gym in the Compound when Steve happened to walk in. He was getting ready for his workout when he heard you hiss at the feeling of the bandages getting taken off your wounds, and he immediately walked over to see what was going on. ''Y/N?'' he said but you didn't hear him. You were so much in your head you didn't hear anything, you didn't see anything other than your hands and the blood on them, you didn't notice anything other than the constant voice in your head telling you will never be good enough.
It wasn't until Steve walked around you that you even noticed he was there, and you got so scared you accidentally jumped and fell backward off the bench you were sitting on. ''Fuck!'' you yelled as your head hit the floor behind you as you fell with a loud thud. ''I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that!'' Steve quickly apologizes but all you can think about is getting away. Away from Steve, away from where you fell, away from the Compound even. Away to the one person who could pull you out of this spiral. But he is still away on the undercover mission, and won't be back for weeks, if not months.
''P-please, leave me alone,'' you say as you start crying softly. You don't mean for Steve to leave you alone, no. You want the voices inside your head to leave you alone, for the anxiety to leave you be and let you live your life. ''No, no, no, leave me alone! Please, leave me alone!'' you say, covering your ears as you're spiraling into a panic attack. ''Y/N, please listen to me,'' Steve says but you shake your head because you can't do this anymore. ''No, GO AWAY!" you yell at him, but he doesn't. Instead, he softly picks you up despite you trashing in his hold to let you go.
''Let me go! Put me down and let me go! They need to stop! Please tell them to stop!'' you say as your panic is completely taking over and you don't know what's real and what's not. The voices in your head are winning, and you realize you're fighting a losing battle. What you didn't realize, however, is that Steve has called Bucky back from his mission already, and he will arrive soon. After explaining what's going on Bucky gave instructions to Steve about how to handle your episode, which he is doing. And the person you need most is coming home to you. Not in a few weeks or even months, but he will be home in less than an hour.
When you and Steve arrive at your bedroom, he puts you down on the bed where he just holds you in his arms, soothing you by rubbing your back and whispering sweet things to you, despite you not hearing him. It may not be Bucky who is soothing you right now, but he is also doing a damn good job of soothing you. Your crying and panic haven't stopped, but suddenly you feel a shift again, and you feel a different pair of strong arms holding you as you're sitting down on the bed again. These arms are so different in fact, they don't even feel the same compared to each other. Bucky's home. You're back with the person you need more than anything.
For the first time in what feels like forever you dare to open your eyes, and you're looking into the eyes you've been so desperately longing for all this time. The eyes that seem to calm your mind down without saying a single word. ''Hi pretty girl,'' he says, but you don't hear him yet. All you can hear is the anxiety in your head telling you how he's just doing this out of pity, but you know deep inside he isn't. You knew he loves you, and he does this to make you feel better. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, followed by a kiss on each of your cheeks.
It calms you down, and you finally take your hands away from your ears, wanting to hear his voice. ''Y-you're home…'' you croak out, your voice barely there to say it, but he hears it. ''I am, doll. And I'm sorry you had to go through this without me by your side,'' he says and he lifts one of his hands to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over it and you're calming down enough for the voices to disappear. ''I love you, so much. And I can't tell you how much I can't wait to marry you,'' he says, which earns him a small smile. The smile he loves so much.
''Love you too,'' you whisper and you lean forward for a kiss. It's soft, slow, and gentle, everything and more you need out of it right now. It isn't rushed, it isn't heated, it's perfection. Bucky is by your side again, and the world seems to be just a little brighter. ''Shall we go take a shower together? Or did you maybe want to take a bath?'' he asks, even though he already knows the answer. He likes giving you a choice, and between these two you will always choose a bath. ''Bath,'' you say and he nods. He gets off the bed with you in his arms and runs the bath while you're sitting on the counter.
''Alright, let's get you out of these clothes and bandages,'' he says and suddenly your cheeks get heated at the thought that Bucky will now know what you've done to yourself when he was gone. He slips you out of your clothes and out of his tactical gear before pulling the bandages off of your hands, and revealing the damage there. He doesn't say anything, instead just placing soft kisses on the affected areas to notify you it's okay. You're going to be okay. The two of you get into the bath together and you're sitting with his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around you and your head resting on his shoulder.
The voices have completely disappeared, and you're feeling like your old self again. All you needed was Bucky, and now that he's back you're okay again. ''I can't wait to marry you either,'' you suddenly say, thinking back to what he said not too long ago. ''You'll be the best husband I could ever wish for,'' you tell him and he lets out a soft laugh. ''And you'll be the best wife I could ever wish for,'' he says as he captures your lips in another kiss. ''I love you, doll. More than I've ever loved anyone,'' he says and with that, you sink back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder and his cheek resting against your hair. Finally, you're complete again.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff
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Game On! 🎮
This was 1000% self-indulgent, and I love it.
Ler: Leo
Lee: Donnie
Summary: Donnie's gone game-crazy. Leo decides to play his own, with a tickley twist.
Warnings: light swearing. This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!
Tucked up in his lab, Donnie tapped away on his phone. He had gotten a new game, "Turtle Tapper", and he was addicted. He hadn't slept much the night before, too focused on beating the game. When he didn't show up for dinner, Leo called it and went to check on him.
He slipped in, bypassing the normal security systems. He must've forgotten to turn them on.
When he looked at Donnie, he got very concerned, very quick. His eyes had deeper bags then normal, and stray food/trash was littered about the room. His eyes were bloodshot to the center. Memories of The Purple Game filled his mind.
"Donnie, you missed breakfast, and you're about to miss dinner. Vamonos, hermano!" He tried tugging Dee's arm away, but a mechanical claw smacked his hand. "No Nardo this is important now leave me!" The entire sentence was rushed, as if every second spent talking was one wasted.
That wasn't gonna slide. One hand went for his goggles, distracting the claw, while the other snatched his phone. Leo ran for his life, bolting out of the room. Behind him, a pissed-off Donnie was hot on his heels, battle shell abandoned for speed.
Leon tore through the kitchen, disrupting the peaceful dinner. As he ducked into the living room, he heard Raph yell, "No broken bones!".
Using his sword, he made a portal to Mikey's room an tossed the phone in. On the other side, the phone landed safely in a blanket pile, hidden. When his purple brother entered the room, he held up his hands, smirking.
Putting two and two together, the flung himself at Leo, knocking them both onto the ground. Leo, having more upper body strength, had Donnie pinned and straddled pretty quickly. He situated them on Raph's beanbag, cushioning his soft shell.
"Nardo, you have three seconds-" Leo cut him off, an extremely smug look on his face. "Actually, I've got the upper hand, Don-Tron." After some thrashing around, Dee came to the shocking conclusion that his brother was right.
"Let's play a game. You have to guess where your phone is in three tries. Fail and suffer the consequences."
Leo's game was stacked against him. Anywhere in the lair is a lot of spaces, and he only had three guesses. Escaping was not a feasible option.
"Fine. Is it in the kitchen?" He could've tossed it in during their chase. His twin shook his head. "Noooooope! Two guesses left!"
Where's a Leo spot to put something? It wouldn't be in his own room, too predictable. He would, however, hide it in his room/lab, just for the irony. "Is it in my room?"
He made a comical buzzer noise. "Eeeeeeee! Strike two, brother! Can he do it folks? Not likely!" Now he was just being annoying.
Okay, come on. If he were Leo, where would he hide it? Somewhere he wouldn't think to look, like his brother's room! Fifty-fifty shot on which one. Maybe Raph, he has a lot of stuffies to hide it in.
"Raph's room!" The look on Leo's face was as mischievous as ever. "Sorry, but that's incorrect! As our all-time loser, you now have to endure our penalty!" Gosh, he was so haughty! He just hoped the dumb penalty was short.
The blue-themed turtle held his hand up, pretending it was a person. "Tell him what he's won, folks!" The hand 'spoke' in a dumb, high-pitched voice. "A session of brotherly bonding, via tickles!"
Dee's eyes widened, and he twisted and kicked, trying to get out from under Leo. He failed, Leo smirking and cracking his knuckles as he watched. "Nardo, I swear I will murder you in your sleep! Get off!"
"Tempting, but nah." He scratched and skittered across his sides, Donnie ending his protests with a strangled gasp. Pushing Leo's arms away wasn't working. Stubborn till the end, he held in his reaction, making Leo work for it.
"Come oooon, DonTon! You know you wanna laugh! It would be a lot easier if you just let it out~" The teasing was working, a few titters escaping the genius. Still, for the most part, he held strong.
Leo shook his head. "I didn't wanna do this, but desperate times call for desperate measures." While one hand scooped up Donnie's arms, the other attacked his armpits. The dam burst, bright laughter erupting from the purple-themed turtle.
"GAHAHAHA! NAHAHARDO GEHET OHOHOF!" Going for a bad spot right away was a Leo special. He didn't really have a reason, other than being a little shit. He dug into the sensitive area, driving his twin up the wall.
"LEHEHEO! CEHEASE YOHOUR NONSEHENSE AT OHONCE!" He was obviously ignored, the slider continuing his torment. The genius kicked out, trying to dilute the crazy ticklish feelings.
Not wanting to wear him out so fast, Leo switched to scribbling on his plastron. Don's arms came crashing down, too tired to do anything more than grab his brother's wrists. Bubbly giggles greeted Leo, with not so sweet words behind them.
"Fuhuhuck ohohoff you duhumb duhuhumb!"
Leo gasped, getting his drama-queen on. "So rude! I go out of my way to take care of you, and this is the thanks I get?" "Yohour lihihihiterally tohorturing me!"
Finally, he got back on track. "If you eat dinner AND take some melatonin, I'll quit." Donnie made a noise like a strangled squeak. "Scohoff! Thihihis ihis tyrahahahanny!"
Leo sighed, expecting the snarky denial. "Thought you would say something like that. Time to die, Othello."
Flipping him over, Leo scribbled across his soft shell. Not wanting to hurt his bro, the touch was light and soft. That ultimately made things worse, the gentle tickling driving Donnie to hysterics. "NAHAHAHAHOHO! I CAHAHA- NAHAHARDOHO!"
He shrugged. "You had your chance. Now suffer, shadow the edge-hog." Leo traced little shapes, invisible smiley faces and stars covering his shell. For once, there were no thoughts in the soft shell's mind besides 'Holly truffle mac n' cheese it tickles!'
Raph peeked his head in the room. "Don't kill him, Leo!" He got a thumbs up, chuckling and shaking his head as he left.
Seeing Don reaching his limits, Leo gave him another shot at mercy. "Promise you'll eat and sleep? And by sleep, I mean at least seven hours."
"IHIHI PRHOHOMIHISE! PLEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!" Satisfied, he stopped his torment, switching to rubbing away the phantom tickles.
"Now was that so hard?" Donnie kicked him, earning a quick tazer to the side. When he regained his breath, Don drug himself to the kitchen, earning head pats from Raph and a few laughs from Mikey. Leo just smirked.
Leon: 1, Donnie: 0
#rottmnt#lee!donnie#ler!leo#ticklish!donnie#rottmnt tickle#sfw tickling community#tickle fic#tickle#ticklish!donatello#lee!donatello#rottmnt fic#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt leo
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Very late on this but following tradition here’s a birthday rec post to celebrate our kind, brilliant and inimitable @lqtraintracks! It’s not a secret that I’ve loved LQT’s works for over a decade and am beyond grateful for everything they’ve done for the fandom, for Drarry, and for my fave rare pair. I love using any excuse to rec LQT but after many lists and recs it was a challenge to come up with something I hadn’t done before. Since they’re impressively prolific (how lucky are we?!) I thought of bringing together new gems recently posted and beloved old faves, Drarry and rare pair galore as it should be! So come and feast on another self-indulgent and slutty Liv list, my specialty 😌 Thank you my friend for being a steady, joyful, welcoming presence in the fandom, for gracing us with so many brilliant reads, for introducing me to my favorite rare pair (my whole heart belongs to your Hardy) and for bringing to life the perfect Teddy Lupin - your characterization remains my ultimate headcanon for him even after all these years. I hope you’ve had an incredible day!!! 💜
5 new rare pair fics to read:
🚗 destination unknown (M, 1.2k) - Teddy/James
They’re taking a trip together; they’re falling in love, or already there.
🧨 ballroom, close hold: five, six, seven, eight (E, 1.4k) - Fred/George
If there are two things that don’t go together, it’s sex pollen and going into heat. Or maybe they do go together and it’s just a matter of perspective.
📷 collarbones like a bow, skin an arrow to the heart (E, 4k) - Ginny/Pansy
Gin’s adjusting the lighting for their next shoot when in walks the new model Luna was so enthusiastic about, and that’s when they know they’re in deep shit.
🧹 Like Love Itself (E, 5k) - Albus/James
Albus has spent his whole life chasing after James. It never occurred to him James might want to be caught.
🐾 Eyes Gone Golden Like Coins (E, 5k) - Harry/Teddy
“Wish I could knot you,” I hear myself say. His eyes flash golden, like Galleons fresh from the Gringotts mint. When we’ve finished and we’re lying all tangled up, he asks softly. “You can… can’t you?”
5 Drarry faves to reread:
💔 A Pain of Our Choosing (E, 6k)
It’s 8th year and everyone’s still a bit messed up. Harry and Draco fall into being messed up together.
🎯 check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous (E, 8k)
Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.
🎁 Touch Me Fall (E, 23k)
Malfoy was such a ponce. And he was a complete snob. And he was so fucking fit Harry wanted to jump him where he sat. It would be too easy to forget his objective tonight: to really, really, really get Malfoy out of his system.
🐉 Blood and Fire (E, 45k)
Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no. Having a reckoning with his choices, with himself, won't be easy. To say nothing of seeing Draco again.
🎲 Right Hand Red (E, 73k)
Harry felt Malfoy's breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.
Bonus: Liv’s angsty PWP picks 🔥
🥃 Afterimage (1.7k) - Ginny/Ron
Ron comes home drunk (again); Ginny takes care of him. Again.
🌙 Beneath a Foreign Moon (2.7k) - Harry/Teddy
Harry visits Teddy in the middle of the night.
🪞 Slip Free of My Grasp (3.4k) - Harry/Sirius
I don't want to be bad for him. I want to do bad things and still be, somehow, inexplicably, good.
👠 Rogue Waves (6.5k) - Ginny/Pansy
A story of living with the trauma, fucking who you want, and maybe finding a little solace.
🎸 like the lost lyrics of a song suddenly remembered (11k) - Teddy/Bill, Teddy/James
Teddy Lupin, aging rockstar, is making a comeback after his life and career were nearly ruined by an illegal potions habit. Everyone's out to support him tonight. Including the man he's always tried so hard not to love -- as well as the man he's always turned to instead.
#happy bday lqt!!! 🎉🎉🎉#a fandom icon honestly#so happy and grateful that I get to share this space with you#hp recs#drarry and rare pairs
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Sunday Week In Review XIV
How's everyone doing? I skipped out on last week's update since it was a really slow week on all fronts for all the things for me last week. Things picked up a bit this week - but I'll be honest, I'm having a hard time finding my feet around here at the moment and finding a groove to get into.
Not sure if it's that time of year, a bit of a writing lull or what - but I've been a little meh, not in the sad sense - more like I'm a petulant child offered six different things and I turn my nose up at all of them because I don't know what I want lol.
Also trying to figure out a system for getting through my TBR list, right now it feels like it's out of control and there are only so many I can read in a week. Especially since I want to get through some of my physical TBR pile and dedicate a couple nights a week to offline reading.
Anyway, enough about me seemingly channelling Baby Truly™️ - on with the recap of the last two weeks!
T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .
I did a second round of the 'First Sentence' ask game, which I absolutely adore! If you haven't done it before, I very much recommend it! If you do this, tag me so I can come throw a sentence at you!
Round 2
tim x cagney (f!reader)
jack x reader (f!reader)
joel x Charlotte (OFC)
dieter x bryony (OFC)
jack x reader (f!reader)
frankie x clementine (OFC)
W H A T I R E A D . . .
Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier)
by @rhoorl
Jess' series has me on tenterhooks for every update and then on the edge of my seat waiting for more! This last update we entered the start of Frankie's arch and while it pulls at the heartstrings, I'm so here for it and what's to come next! Also, Benny entering his Rocky era (Jess didn't write this, I've decided it) is something I'm also very much ready for!
Paranoid Hearts (Javi P.)
by @goodwithcheese
This series. This series is just something else and I finally got my ass into gear to get caught up, and while on the one hand, I'm sorry I started so late on the other hand I enjoyed this smorgasbord of Javi and Tabitha.
he makes life better (Joel)
by @wildemaven
This is such a warm comforting hug of a fic that just seeps into your bones, that makes your toes curl in softness and you re-read more than once. This is everything fluff should make you feel and I adore each and every last part of this and will be re-reading this.
Headshots (Marcus P.)
by @secretelephanttattoo
I was not ready for this to end, but El gave our boy Marcus the ending he and his Ella deserved and it was both spicy and sweet. If you've not read this yet, I suggest you do. Also, peep her forthcoming wip... 🔎
Thrash Metal (Dieter)
by @morallyinept
Jett is back with another delectably mouthwatering smutty one-shot with our favourite deviant Dieter Bravo. This is sinfully indulgent and a must-read and one that lends itself to definitely more than one read.
Six and a half minutes - Frankie's version
by @avastrasposts
This one calls for a breakout of the Hot Ones gif for sure, because this was the mood the entire time I read this. If anything, Frankie is not one to back down from a challenge...
Medicine (Joel)
by @goodwithcheese
I was so excited to see Megan had written for Joel that I had to drop everything to read this over my coffee the other morning. I love everything about the dynamic between these two and how Megan illustrates the deep affection they have for one another through their actions as we all know our post-outbreak Miller is not one quick with his words. I hope this isn't the last we see of Joel here!
M E M O R A B L E P O S T S . . .
Heidi’s amazing mood board inspired by Sequins! 😍 I’m still in absolute awe of it and I love it so much! I think it's going to get a spot on my work desk this week! 💕
These thots had started off as Joel Thots, but have now morphed into Tim Thots and I'm not mad about it... might share a little snippet later 😏
@morallyinept's 'Ode to Writers' this week - I'm going to refrain from getting on my soapbox here (I'd be here all day) - but the table is not finite, it's infinite. If you're not inching your chair down to make room for another chair, or pulling the spare chairs in from the garage, then maybe you need to re-evaluate your relationship with this community.
E N J O Y E D T H I S W E E K . . .
Finally watching ‘Strange Way of Life’ and getting to live message my thots to @rhoorl as I watched - it was a cinematic dissection.
Date night with Mr. Truly - we spent the entire two hours wondering what people do on dates aside from watching their phones and waiting for a call to say your kids are out of control and have taken over Nakatomi Plaza. But needless to say, we had fun, I even ate a meal without someone else's hand in it.
Amazing moots being mooting awesome 🙌 - I'm thankful every day that I get to interact with some wonderful people and have found a lovely corner of this hell site to play in a sandbox with some amazing people 💕
S P E C I A L M E N T I O N . . .
Check out this writing challenge that myself and a group of people that I'm lucky to call moots created that we would love for you to join in on! Everything about it is random and everyone starts with the same parameters and everything else after that is up to you! So excited to see what everyone does with this!
Do I know anything about Javi Pēna? Nope.
Am I going to join in? Yes I am! 🙌
See you January 1st to dive into all the fics this challenge I hope produces! 💛
T H I S W E E K ' S J A M . . .
Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for inspiring this week's selection after she pointed out the parallels to Chiffon that I haven't been able to get out of my head since.
Hope everyone has had a great week! Here's to a great week ahead and I hope its a good one full of obnoxious drinks of choice and soft places to land and enjoy.
#betty's sunday in review#sunday week in review#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#Spotify
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20 questions for fic writers
Tagged by @jesuiscenseedormir
1. How many works do you have on ao3?
16
2. What's your total ao3 word count?
153,084
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Actively writing for 9-1-1 at the moment. Have written for many others in the past.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos
All of these are 911 + Buddie or background Buddie
You can feel it on the way home (You are in love) || words: 23k || T || Buck moves in with Eddie after the loft is destroyed
I built a home (for you, for me) || words: 6k || T || Eddie shows up to work wearing one of Buck's shirts. Assumptions are made and revelations are had.
Just go with it || words: 9k || T || the 5 times someone thinks Buck is Chris' dad + the 1 time it's official
What's up with A shift || words: 3k || T || A shift knows no peace. B shift live in fear of the day they have to cover for them.
Feels like home || words: 1.5k || G || In which Buck stays for dinner, Eddie decides to be brave, and Chris just wants to do his homework in peace.
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I'm allergic to sad endings so I don't really have any, but I'd probably say Eddie is in the room, just because of the nature of that fic but it still has a somewhat happy hopeful ending it's just closer to angst than anything else I've written
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All of them? I'd probably say Just go with it, because the entire last segment of that one is very domestic bliss kinda vibes
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I haven't so far
9. Do you write smut?
No, I'm not against it I just prefer writing other things and haven't written a fic where it felt necessary
10. Craziest crossover?
Marvel, The Walking Dead and Supernatural for a crack fic exchange I used to do with my friends every Christmas
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Once years ago but by the time I was alerted, it had been dealt with
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, but I'm open to it
13. Have you co-written a fic before?
Yeah I write with @ladydorian05 all the time!
14. All time favorite ship?
Favorite at the moment is Buddie but I don't know what my favorite of all time is, it changes too much
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will
I have a tendency to go back to stuff after months of ignoring it so I'm never really sure. I also have a lot of stuff I know I won't finish but don't really want to right now either
I'd say the one I'm having the most trouble with right now is a 5+1 of the 5 times the 118 bet on Buck and Eddie getting together + the 1 time someone wins the bet just because I feel like there's lots of ways for it to go wrong and I keep overthinking it. I also have a fic about Buck, Bobby and Chris at the zoo that I'd love to finish but I never have any ideas to flesh it out with so I never write it
16. What are your writing strengths?
Fluff. Probably fluff.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I struggle with dialogue, correct punctuation and I also tend to be very overdramatic and cheesy especially if I'm writing angst
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language
Love it but I try to avoid it unless I'm working with someone who is fluent in said language
19. First fandom you wrote for
Supernatural probably but I don't remember exactly
20. Favorite fic you've written
An unlikely friend from the Eddie Diaz and the Universal Cat Distribution system series
It was purely self indulgent and I really had a lot of fun writing it, I also enjoyed the process of trying to write something that took place alongside canon for the majority of the time
Tagging: @loveyouanyway @nmcggg @ladydorian05 @inell @agirllovespancakes
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A new side of you: Waltz of emotions
Pairing: Eugene 'Flash' Thompson x reader
Summary: Surprised, again and again.
Warning: 13k words, Tension, tension, tension, angst, a bit of fluff, OCs, don't know what else to warn you about.
A/N: I feel like this is standard by now but sorry again for being such a slow writer, I hope the fic is enough to be forgiven for my usual tardiness. Might have edited but I'm not a native speaker so get ready for plenty of mistakes, enjoy!
Tags: (Don't hesitate to tell me if you want to be added or removed, and thank you again for your feebacks ❤️) @loxerclu8 @wheelerzluv @ray-of-sunrise @m00nkn1ghts
People's view of the costume is accurate. The fabric is thin and flexible but unfortunately, it is quite a cold way to fight crimes during the chilly nights of New York.
"That was awesome! I wonder if it'll end up on the internet?"
"I doubt it. If it does end up there it'll be out of frame and shaky. The police were quite insistent when they were shoving people to safety," I say feeling the breeze as I swing around at full speed.
Landing with a huff I realize I'm out of breath, "Ned." I pant, "Remind me to get a custom binder, this one is killing me."
"I told you! You can't just buy any binder from the internet. It's like corsets, of course they are uncomfortable if they are not tailored for you!"
Your vendetta against Hollywood has reached another level," I say taking another deep breath.
With a leap I swing from the American Museum of Natural History and land on a school's rooftop.
A buzz makes me pause and crouch to check my phone and see a second call coming in from May.
"I got to go May is on the other line."
"Okay, 'night."
"'Night."
Swiping on my phone I wait for the inevitable.
"Where are you?!"
I try to defuse the damage as I look around, "I am at the park close to the flat," I draw out slowly.
"…Which park?"
…
"Do not tell me you're close to Central Park which is on the other side of the city."
"Okay, I won't say it."
"Damnit! you know I don't want you farther than Long Island at night!"
"I know, I know!" I whine, "But there was this guy with a huge Scorpion armor and he was doing mass destruction! The police couldn't do it alone they needed help!" I protest.
"Before being Spiderman you're my niece and my niece will obey the very few rules I put in place for her safety."
"Don't you think the fact that I can knock out people 3 times my size should allow me a bit of indulgence on those rules?"
"No young lady I read a ton of books on this and I know how this ends."
"How?" I ask curiously.
"Mostly teen pregnancy."
"Wow! Okay let's not be dramatic now, shall we?"
"And juvie," May continues her list.
"May I fight crimes, I don't commit it."
"Listen we have a system and it works, I don't get sarcastic with my boss and you don't go farther than Long Island past 11 PM."
"In retrospect, I think we should've thought harder on those rules."
"Too late, the system works and it's flawless. Now swing your ass back home before Spiderman gets grounded."
"Yes ma'am."
"Love you," she says smugly.
The line dies and I breathe out the annoyance I feel to then breathe in the fresh evening air.
Tearing off my mask I try to crack my neck and let it hang down to massage and release the night's tension when my eyes catch a familiar sigh.
Flash?
He sits on a bench with his phone in hand looking perplexed.
It's been a week since we last saw each other, or even talked. I didn't want to bother him and I have the feeling it's the same for him.
I look down at my wrist and fumble with the different settings before I find and activate the voice modificator.
Swinging down, I drop on the cemented ground and accidentally startle him as he jumps and stumbles to the floor.
"Oh shit, sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I say genuinely with my voice coming out deeper thanks to the device.
Stumbling around to step back up, Flash looks at Spiderman with wide eyes and his jaw on the floor.
A torrent of curses comes out of his mouth along with an excited laugh of disbelief.
"I can't believe it, it's you!" he says and motions to me up and down.
"Oh yeah, it's me!" I say rethinking my decision to offer guidance disguised as Spiderman in front of Flash Thompson.
"Oh my god I was having such a bad night and now I'm talking to Spiderman!"
"Yeah, that's awesome! Listen, I saw you from up there and you looked troubled and honestly a bit underdressed," I point to his light shirt.
"Oh yeah," he says more calmly looking down at his outfit, "I just needed to take a walk to think about-"
He hesitates.
"No that's not important."
"No way, tell me, that's why I came down here," I say sitting on the bench inviting him to join me.
It's not the first time that Spiderman has a sit-down with someone in distress; words being as useful as a handful of punches.
He sighs and sits down, "There's this um-Charity thing and my mom told me I had to bring a date and I told her I would but let's say it's easier said than done."
"Why's that? Having trouble finding a date?" I tease.
"No," he chuckles, "No actually I already know who I want to invite, but I don't know if she would say yes, and even then I don't really know where we stand. Inviting her could compromise everything," he says sliding his hands down his face with a pained sigh.
Is it me?
Who am I kidding? It's not because we kissed once that I'm his only date choice.
"Alright, so you have an idea. Why not ask her?"
"Because she could say no and I really do not want to have the conversation that would follow after that."
"What conversation?"
"You know the conversation!" he shouts full of frustration as he stands up from the bench, "The one a girl gives you when she's not interested in you. The one that goes 'It's not you, it's me' or the 'We're just friends' except in this case I'm not even sure we're friends to begin with!" he finishes his rant pacing left and right.
"That seems complicated," is the only thing I can say after a few moments of tense silence.
"Yeah and also what kind of date would be a charity event?"
"A date?" I choke out.
"I just-I've always been good at reading people, I know whether they hate me or they tolerate me. But recently it's been hard to read her."
I listen silently nodding my head from time to time.
"Before, she just rolled her eyes or would just snap back at me but now she listens to me and she worries about me and I just-I like being around her. I just worry it is all just a front and she's simply gonna drop me or tell me we're not actually friends and she just had pity on me and took me for some sort of charity case."
He finishes sitting back down his head in his hands.
"It's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed her." he groans.
I'm thankful for the mask covering my flushed face.
So it is about me.
It couldn't be anyone else. Flash Thompson is a lot of things. Sometimes an idiot, an asshole, even a jerk at times but what everyone always seems to agree on is that Flash Thompson is no player.
"You could always invite her as a friend," I loudly blur out after an awkward pause.
Flash frowns.
"You ask her to be your date and you precise it's as friends," I precise my thought.
"I guess I could try but what if she says no?"
"Well, best case scenario she says yes and you do have a friend. Or worst case scenario, she does pity you and says yes allowing you to hang out with her and convince her to see you as more than that."
He stays silent staring out into the void before snatching his phone out of his pocket.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm calling her right now before I chicken out."
Oh shit!
"Wow! Hey there how about we think about it before we make any rash decision," I say standing up from the bench in a hurry.
"What do you mean? you just told me to ask her."
"Listen," I panic and rack my brain for any last-second plan, "Here's what I propose. You walk back home and think about what you're gonna say to her on the way there, and then you call her once you get there."
He pauses, "Yeah okay, that makes sense."
A buzz startles me and reminds me of my curfew.
Trying to stay calm I hurriedly try to bid my goodbyes.
"O-Okay well, I got to go. Hope it works out for you!" I say carefully stepping backward, "As for me I'm expected somewhere so I'm gonna head there!"
"Oh yeah for sure. That's crazy man, I've always wanted to meet you, and now that it's the case you've just helped me!"
He looks back down at his phone's contact and slowly takes a few steps back nodding to me as a goodbye.
"You know what they say. I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, emotionally and physically!" I shout jogging back.
When I'm sure he's far enough, I leap into the air and swing away.
"Wait! Can we take a picture-?!" his demand fades as I shoot my next web.
Answering the phone I reassure May I'm on my way and get a few more calls from Flash that I cannot answer.
The last swing sends me to my bedroom window with a thud as I slide the glass panel up and throw my phone in first before climbing inside in a hurry as my cell buzzes again.
"Is that you?!"
"Yeah, I'm home!" I say sliding my mask off before trying to unzip my suit as I stomp around attempting to slip out of the gear.
Jumping on one foot I try to snatch the blue and red material off my feet and trip falling on the cool wooded floor.
"What was that?"
May's panicked tone and the incessant buzz coming from my phone is overwhelming.
Out of breath and my head still on the floor, I raise my hand and blindly pat around my covers before they brush against the device.
I sit myself up with a grunt and bring the phone to my ear.
"Hi!" I say enthusiast and breathless.
"Hi," he answers back abruptly.
"Everything okay?" I ask dipping my elbow amongst my blanket and burying my hand in my hair to ground it.
"Yeah!" he says back quickly with a lighter tone, "Sorry I just thought I would end up leaving a voicemail and now I just don't remember what it is that I wanted to say," he awkwardly confesses.
"Oh yeah sorry about that I was taking a shower," I skillfully lie.
"You often run out of breath after a shower?"
"No! it's just, I left my phone in my room and I heard it in the shower and started panicking the third time it rang I thought something horrible happened," I spew out.
I'm getting really good at this.
"Oh crap, my bad I didn't think it would-" he sighs, "Of course you would think that, I shouldn't have called at this hour I'm sorry I didn't think."
"No! Really it's nothing. What did you call about?"
Silence on the other line. I let it run until I start thinking he must've hung up and asks if he's still there.
"Yeah um, okay so here I go. There's this charity event that happens like every year and it's kind of badly seen to go alone."
My heart speeds up and hammers against my ribcage. It feels like my blood skyrockets through my body leaving an ice-cold feeling behind that gives me chills. This feeling gets stuck in my throat making me believe I'm struggling to breathe.
"And you'd like me to be your plus one?" I attempt to finish the sentence for him.
"Not like a date or anything like that! More like as…friends?" he ends his sentence with hesitation.
Leave the blood impression right now it feels like I was punched in the guts as the air escapes my lungs in a swift.
"Friends?" I repeat meekly to make sure he is comfortable with the term.
"Yeah if you're up to it?" he asks anxiously in return.
I feel frozen for a moment before my eyes are drawn to my wardrobe.
"Yeah of course. I'd love to go with you," I say putting my phone on speaker before laying it down on my bed.
Standing up with a grunt and newfound confidence, I skip to my closet and push stuff back and forth.
"So what type of event is it exactly?"
"Well, it's a charity but it's a charity on the Upper East Side so…there's going to be a lot of snobby people," he says with an awkward chuckle, avoiding talking about our apparent new friendship.
"So," I draw out, "Dressed up."
"Yup," he confirms.
I sigh pushing a few hangers back, "Well I don't think they'd be much impressed with me," I chuckle embarrassed, "When is the event exactly? Maybe I could go grab something that won't cause a public humiliation," I chuckle throwing yet another hanger back with a huge cling.
"That's where you hate me," he says with a pained voice.
Frowning I look at my phone still lying on my bed.
"The event is tomorrow."
My eyes bulge. I don't feel angry, I'm more surprised than anything else.
"Oh, so that really was a last-minute decision to invite me," I try to say light-heartedly.
'Actually, I already know who I want to invite.'
"It wasn't," he replies softly.
I'm getting better at making him open up. A fact that makes me smile, but I realize that I can't push my luck at the risk of going too far and having him close back up in a blink.
Trying to brush off his confession I decide to joke.
"You know Flash, when people invite you to events they tell you days beforehand," I laugh, "Now I don't even have anything worth wearing to your fancy charity!"
"I'm sorry."
"No I'm not mad it's just-I don't want to walk in with a summer dress on," I chuckle trying to reassure him, "And it takes more than a few hours of shopping to find a dress that looks expensive but is not."
"You don't own a black dress?" he asks confused.
"No."
"Not to generalize but I'm ready to bet every girl owns at least one plain black dress."
"I mean I do but it doesn't fit me anymore," I say putting the black dress at least three times too small against my much-grown self.
After a few moments of silence, I start thinking the invitation is gonna be retracted.
"I might have a solution."
"What is it?"
"Can't tell you."
"And why is that?" I frown trying to conceal my offense with a teasing tone.
"Can't tell you either."
"I'm not liking this."
The other line stays silent for a moment.
"Does that mean you don't want to come anymore?"
"No, that's not what I said," I clear up.
"Good, I'll take care of it, and thank you again. Would you like me to pick you up? Tomorrow I mean."
"Oh no, thank you but I'm sure I can find my way around."
"Okay," I wouldn't bet on it but I think I hear the hint of a smile in his words.
"Hum, when does it start? When do I have to arrive exactly?"
"Oh well you know, there is no designated time but people generally arrive later and leave earlier so no pressure."
"Okay so let's say around 9 PM? How does that sound?"
"Awesome."
"Cool," I smile.
I look around my room sheepishly waiting for a goodbye or any other signs he would like to continue the conversation.
Walking to my bed I spin around and let my ankle bump into my bed's rail letting myself fall back on my covers.
"Cool," he repeats.
"Cool," I reiterate chuckling.
"Thanks again, really."
"It's no big deal I'm sure I'm gonna have fun anyways," I say with a smile.
"Well you know it's a charity event so people are gonna do a LOT of talking."
"Why are you making it sound bad," I chuckle.
"I wouldn't say bad, I'd say boring," he says nonchalantly.
"I think I can handle boring for a night."
"I'll take you on that one," he says almost as a challenge.
My door creaks open and May's frown makes my smile drop.
"Hum I'm sorry but I have to go, see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow."
"Bye."
"Bye."
When the line goes silent I awkwardly sit up waiting for a scolding or a rant or anything else.
"So?" she asks with her brows raised.
I know she's waiting for an explanation but the news is too important, "I might've been invited to an event tomorrow."
The warmth is too much and in the heat, I throw my cover to the side with the help of my feet to turn around and try to go back to sleep in my haze.
Having opened my blinds and window during the heated night to let in the fresh breeze, the sunlight shines through and highlights my cluttered mess of a bedroom.
The usual New York rumble is accompanied by a merry voice.
"Wakey wakey night owl!"
"May," I whine sleepily, "It's the last days of summer, can't you let me oversleep?"
"Nope because you have a package and I've been trying to guess what's in it for about twenty minutes now."
"Huh?" I say with a hoarse voice.
"Come on, stand up!"
"I don't remember buying anything," I try to reason.
"And I don't remember buying anything either so come on up, up!" she says jumping up and down.
Sliding off my bed a box is thrown onto it. A huge white rectangular box closed and flattered by a black bow wrapped around it like a Christmas present.
I groan.
"I know what it is."
"What?"
"I have nothing to wear for the charity and Flash proposed to help but I thought it would just be a quick drop off not…that," I say with a gesture to the box.
"How nice."
"I guess but I'm uncomfortable getting a dress from him. If it wasn't so last minute I would've bought one for myself but-"
"Didn't you say it was a fancy event?"
"Yeah?" I answer not getting her point.
"Rich people smell a fraud it's better if he's the one dressing you up for tonight."
"Dressing me," I bark a laugh, "Flash would not dress me, maybe his mom helped or-"
I'm cut off by the phone going off in the other room.
As May walks out to reach it I admire the simplicity yet classiness of the box. I smile as I fidget with the bow before tugging on it and letting it loose.
Half-listening to May's phone call I push off the ribbon and lift the lid.
"Holy fuck!"
I throw the lid back on top of the box the corner not fitting back properly and let it slide aside.
"I'll call you right back-what?! What happened?!" May says in a hurry with the phone still glued to her ear.
I face her with my back turned away from my bed where the dress is sitting, "I can't wear that."
"Can't wear what?" she asks walking to my bed and opening the box back.
"Oh wow."
"I know."
"This is gorgeous."
"I know, I can't wear that."
"Wait-why not?"
“It’s too much. It’s the kind of dress you wear to attract attention, not just to walk around at a charity event,” I spit out at full speed as May puts the phone back to her ear and asks the person who is on the other line and who has not bothered to hang up to come forward and open the front door which is not locked.
"I think you're overreacting a little bit. It's just a pretty dress."
Listening to her I gather up the courage to turn back around and have another look at the black glittery dress.
"It's too much! He told me it's an event full of snobby rich people and you know what's gonna happen if I wear this around snobby rich people?"
May straightens up and takes a posh accent, "What a promiscuous little lady you are," she scolds before laughing.
"I'm serious!" I whine taking the dress out of the box.
The dress's length reaches the ground and the long sleeves hang loose. As the front of the dress faces Aunt May, the back view horrifies me.
I choke on my gasp and swiftly turn the dress around.
At the view of the open back of the dress May's eyes match mine as they widen like sausages.
"Oh wow now that's promiscuous," she says with no accent or tease this time.
"What was he thinking?!"
"Nothing. I doubt Flash handpicked this dress himself," she speculates feeling the fabric of the dress.
Her observation is followed by the front door shutting and a voice calling out to May.
"We're in here Happy!"
With a frown, I watch as Happy Hogan appears at the threshold of my bedroom.
"What is he doing here?" I question as I point to him with the dress still in my hands.
"Your aunt said you're going out tonight and she didn't want to stay alone so I proposed to stay with her," he says all the while analyzing the dress up and down before pointing to it, "Where did you get that?"
"It's a gift," May explains.
"No! No no no no no, it's temporary, a temporary borrowed and very expensive looking dress."
"Not just looking," Happy informs me.
My body proves that it is in fact possible to get even more tense.
"What do you mean by that exactly?" I ask with a meek voice.
Seeing my distressed face Happy makes eye contact with May, gauging the situation.
"Well I mean," he draws out walking up to me and grabbing the dress raising it to examine the fabric, "It looks like the kind of dress Tony makes me pick up for Pepper so I figured-"
"Oh my god!" I shout throwing the dress back on my bed.
I walk to my nightstand and reach for my phone.
"What are you doing?" May ask.
"I'm canceling," I say hurriedly.
"What? No!" she protests.
Flash's number is already dialed and the phone is placed at my ear as I shoo both of them out of my room.
Hurrying May out I close the door as the fourth dial rings in my ear.
Somehow the sound of his voice allows me to breathe out.
"Hey, what is it?"
"What the fuck Flash!"
The warmth leaves his voice and worry takes its place, "What is it?"
"The dress!"
"What? what's wrong with it, you don't like it?"
"It's too much!" I exclaim.
"Oh crap, I'm sorry."
"What were you thinking?" I said feeling a little guilty knowing he couldn't have guessed that I wouldn't like the dress.
"Hey in my defense I didn't choose the dress."
"Then who did?!"
"Well I wasn't sure so I kinda asked Lea to choose," he hesitates to say.
My brain freezes and a headache is right around the corner, "Wait, isn't she supposed to be on her honeymoon?" I ask pinching my nose and scrunching my eyes closed.
"She was but she's a big part of the charity so she is flying back for tonight and is gonna finish her honeymoon here in New York."
"Oh and so you let her choose a dress for me not thinking that our way of dressing up might be way different?" I ask incredulously.
"You make it sound bad."
"It is Flash!" I shout hyperventilating, "She's a model and this type of dress is made for the runway, not charity, and not on me."
"Wait so the problem is that it doesn't fit?"
"No!" I groan falling back on my bed beside the same dress that is making me break down.
"I'm sorry but I'm having a hard time understanding the problem right now, do you hate the dress is that what it is?"
"No, I don't hate the dress," I say.
It's true I like the dress, it's a pretty dress.
"Have you tried it on?"
I pause and answer 'no' in a tone that says it should be obvious to him that I would never try on a brand-name dress.
"So what's the issue exactly? You don't dislike the dress and you haven't tried it on so you can't complain that it doesn't fit, so what's up?"
"It's not a normal dress," I explain as a matter of fact.
"A normal dress?" I can hear the tease in his tone.
"Yes, a normal dress." I reiterate.
"And what is a normal dress exactly?"
"A dress that doesn't look like it was made in a studio in a fancy part of Beverly Hills!"
"Okay, I understand, Lea has a particular style."
"And Lea knows how to walk around with people's eyes on her!" I shout convinced that he now understands my point of view, "I just-" I sigh, "I don't want to walk in there and have people looking at me and judging me, especially rich snobby people."
"Oh if that's what scares you I can reassure you right now and tell you that no one will pay you any attention."
"You haven't seen the dress," I say as a matter of fact.
"No, but I can tell you that standing beside me as my da-my plus one, everyone will obviously be too busy admiring me to be paying you any mind."
I snort and try to muffle the noise by cupping my mouth but the unflattering cackle reaches the other end of the phone.
I know he's reassured now that I laughed but it doesn't erase my worry.
I calm down and weigh my request before verbalizing it.
"Could you drive me to the event?" I decided to just come out with it hoping for the best.
"What happened to taking the bus?" He asks genuinely.
"Again, you haven't seen the dress and I'd rather not travel around Queens dressed to the nines. I just want to be safe, you know?"
I know that my safety isn't at risk but dressed like that, a judging stare would be as dreadful as a wandering hand.
I can't hear him but I'm certain he nods agreeing with me.
"Well, it would be an honor to be your knight in shining armor for the night knowing you're actually my savior," he jokes, "But sadly there isn't any carriage available so we will have to settle for my car, I hope that's alright."
"Oh what a shame, I expected nothing less than the fanciest vehicle," I chuckle.
"Sorry Cinderella but fairy godmother only managed to get the dress."
"And I still wonder how she managed to do that," I say turning on my side and feeling the fabric.
"That's a secret…Try the dress on and call me back to tell me how it fits. Or better yet text me, It's kind of crazy around here today."
It is only now that I realize there is noise around him, a lot of noise and that makes me gather that he must already be over there helping to set everything up and I'm here having a meltdown and calling him having a tantrum about a dress.
"I'm so sorry I didn't, I mean if I knew you were busy I would've-"
"No no, it's alright really-" He tries to chime in.
"No I mean you're probably busy, I can't believe I didn't think of that-" I ramble before he cuts me off.
"No really, you're a life-savor Parker. Those events are old-fashioned and you're like forced to have someone with you and I really didn't want to spend my entire night answering the same question over and over again-"
It's his turn to ramble and I find myself listening on liking the idea of him opening up to me.
It is not every day that I get to listen to Flash Thompson ramble, let alone to me.
"It's annoying when people crowd you and ask why you don't have a date with you and they end up dissecting what must be wrong with you to not have a girl on your arm."
"Sounds annoying."
"It is. Sometimes I manage to avoid that kind of event but for this one my family is in charge so," He finishes dragging his word.
"You are forced to participate."
He confirms and gets interrupted by another voice. I frown trying to listen and make up a bit of the conversation going on before he comes back to the line with a sigh.
"I'm sorry it's a bit crazy right now. My mom always goes nuts the day of these events," he says as I can hear Mme.Thompson shouting in the back.
"Okay, that's my cue. Try the dress on and text me okay?"
"Sure," I say with a smile.
"Bye," he says along with another sentence that I cannot decipher, presumably aimed at someone else before the line dies and I'm left lying on my bed retracing the conversation.
I look at the dress once more. The sparkles look more and more inviting instead of revolting and I stand back up fixing myself before I open the door to face both May and Happy.
Making awkward eye contact I see that they are half bent toward my door before they stand straight up and cough to ease the tension.
After a moment of silence where my gaze is enough judgment, I speak up and ask for help.
"Can you help me do my hair?"
Meddling with the final strand of my hair May stands back to admire her work as I add the final touch to my makeup applying the red lipstick with precision.
Closing the cap I stand up and have an overall look at myself as May squeals and hands me my jacket. She asks a few more questions when I head to the door and check if I have everything I need placed in the pouch she lent me for the night.
My brain barely has time to register the questions before I hum and give a half-assed answer as I put my jacket on and try to exit the apartment.
I turn around to hear her give me rule after rule for the night.
"Flash drives you to the event, you stay at this event," she points out referring to the birthday incident where the only reason I wasn't grounded was the fact that my exit saved me from a potential wound from the blowout of fireworks.
"You have your fun and you come home at 1 AM. Not 2, not 3, 1 AM, got it?"
I nod.
"And Flash drives you back, no one else, Flash."
"Yes," I say a bit exasperated.
"And you stay glued to him all night."
"Yes, Aunt May I promise! Can I go now he's waiting for me outside," I lie.
He's not waiting for me outside, as a matter of fact I haven't even sent him a message informing him I'm ready for him to pick me up.
"Okay be careful-And text me both when you arrive and when you're coming home."
I nod at her as I walk backward to the elevator and watch as she smiles before closing the apartment door. I huff loudly and turn around to look down to my phone texting Flash that I'm ready and will be waiting for him outside.
It's when I'm halfway down the elevator that my phone rings.
"Yes?"
"Hey, I just got your text and huh," he draws out.
I don't answer and just let him bask in the silence of the line.
"I'm sorry things were crazy. I'm just now getting ready."
"Wait you're getting ready?! Then when are you coming to pick me up?" I ask walking out of the elevator and pushing the door of the apartment building open letting the New York ambiance bask me in its hurriedness.
The breeze reaches me and I rub my arm getting used to the weather slipping up the back of my jacket and biting at my open back when I notice a…no way.
"Flash what did you do?"
"What-what do you mean what did I do?" he stutters.
"I mean why is there a guy looking at me waiting by a car that looks like it's worth more than the neighborhood," my question is more of a statement.
I hear him curse under his breath.
"I'm really sorry. She told me she would be subtle."
"Who?" I ask taking my eyes off the supposed driver.
"My mom. I told her I had to come to get you but she still needed me around so I insisted and even said I'd call you to push back our meeting but she said it would be disrespectful and that she would send someone."
I stay silent processing all of it.
"I'm sorry I wanted to call and tell you but I just got to my room."
I look back up to the driver and make eye contact before we exchange hasty smiles.
I sigh thinking of this all over walking down the stairs one by one slowly.
"Okay, I guess it wasn't really in your power. But you better be here when I arrive I will not show up and walk around alone." I say firmly.
"Of course," he says in all seriousness.
Telling him I'll see him soon, I hang up and focus my gaze on the driver as I approach him.
"Miss Parker?"
I nod before confirming my identity verbally.
He then motions to the car before opening the door and gesturing for me to step in.
When it clicks shut I am left with the silence of the empty vehicle.
As the buildings go by and I get closer to the venue my stress level rises and I start fidgeting and falling into a cycle of grabbing my phone, second-guessing texting Flash, and then abandoning the idea and letting my body fill up with more anxiety.
The arrival doesn't stop that nagging feeling that causes goosebumps to rush down my spine, that or the wind nipping at my back through my coat.
Walking up the stairs my nerves run wild through my body as my legs shake walking up the stairs.
Reaching the top, I make eye contact with a man standing in front of the doors. Approaching him carefully, I struggle to find my voice and I am cut off in my stutter as he guesses my last name.
Confused, I confirm his guess and my frown must ring a bell for him as he turns to the door, "I was informed that one of Mme.Thompson's guests would arrive alone and I'm guessing it's you," he says as he buzzes me in.
I nod to him as a thank you and continue to walk ahead this time on a soft and long red carpet instead of stone.
The voices, which were mere mumbles turn into booming voices coming from every corner of the room and my coat is starting to make me sweat reminding me that I'll have to discard it soon.
The thought makes me sweat even more.
Like fate, my eyes scan my surroundings and immediately fall on him standing in front of the counter right beside Lea.
He's fidgety and I see Lea receiving a glass of alcohol before making eye contact with me as she nods in my direction.
I feel hands on my shoulders and jolt stepping aside to see who touched me. I see a man who stumbles back apologizing and realize he is trying to gather my coat to let me join the crowd and a cold sweat replaces the regular sweat.
As the fabric leaves my shoulder my voice stays stuck in my throat and instead, a small squeak manages to slither out.
Still looking for my voice, I turn to him walking away with my coat.
I'm left standing there helpless.
When I see the man disappear I turn back to my previous position to look back at Flash when I see him getting hit behind the head and scolded by Lea. I also notice the glass now empty on the counter as I hear his voice more distinctly dismissing Lea with a 'Whatever' as he rushes to my side.
"He took my jacket," I husher panicked but still trying to be subtle.
"I'm sorry," he says sincerely taking off his jacket.
"I feel naked," I whisper.
"I'm so sorry," he reiters putting his jacket on my shoulders before ushering me to walk ahead leading us towards Lea at the bar.
His hand is placed on my back flaring shiver with the new sensation of his hand on my back, or maybe it is just the fresh jacket on me?
My brain focuses back and sets on Lea greeting me.
With her asking how I've been I let my hand play with the jacket and nod along with the conversation. Flash himself messes with the blazer by first securing it over my shoulder and then playing with the sleeves that hang loosely.
When my mind stops fixating on him, I blink in surprise when my ears register an apology coming from Lea about the dress. I try to protest and instead thank her for the last-minute save when Flash's mother appears to join and inform us that we need to scatter around.
I stand clueless for a moment before I feel his hand on my back gently pushing me to walk alongside him.
Led around once more I decide to stop being dragged around like a clueless puppet and tug the hand placed on my back to entertwine our arms and walk together instead of letting him direct me around.
I don't talk much. I mostly nod and answer small questions here and there.
The evening runs along pretty smoothly as each interaction the two of us have only lasts few minutes before Flash skillfully finds a way to bid our goodbyes and walk us to yet another couple beckoning us over.
"Oh no."
"What is it?" I ask him trying to glance in the direction he was looking at to see an older lady standing there motioning us to join her.
"That's Garret's grandmother."
"And she's a mean old lady," I deduct.
"No worse, she's a passive-aggressive bitch."
I'm taken aback by his name-calling and look back at the woman waiting impatiently for us.
"I think she's waiting for us," I suggest.
"Okay, don't talk and stay close to me," he instructs.
"You mean like I've been doing for the past hour and a half?"
My teasing provokes a smile to appear on his face for a moment but it quickly disappears when his head turns back to the lady as he walks us toward her.
I hug his arm getting closer to him as he uses his opposite hand and brings it to our linked arms as a sort of comfort I'm guessing.
"Eugene," she beckons us over with a honeyed voice.
Her mask falls for a moment and I can see a glimpse of irritation before, like any other influential figure, she morphs her face into a more pleased expression.
"Madam Pennington," Flash says with an edge.
I first think that his tone might've been hesitation, but that changes when the woman gets that sour look back on her face and I realize his tone is subtly bitter.
Without trying, my brain does the math in a matter of seconds and I realize that if Flash refers to her with another last name than Garret's it must mean she is divorced.
She makes eye contact with me as my face must've shown that I figured Flash's comment out and her burning stare drives me to get closer to him for protection.
He clears his throat driving her murderous stare back to him as I abandon the idea of nodding along to their conversation and instead subtly look around the room.
The buffet, the people, anything other than the two of them.
"My grandson seems to be upset. When I tried talking to him about it he refused to speak but I did overhear that you two fought over a girl," she ends her sentence looking at me up and down.
"And by overhear you mean that you snooped around against your grandson's wish," his argument is aimed not only at defending himself but McCoy's privacy as well which surprises me.
"Excuse you?"
Her voice getting louder I notice McCoy himself standing just a few feet away from us looking at his grandmother about to blow a fuse and I decide to diffuse the tension.
"I believe your grandson is looking for you," I say nodding toward him standing there frozen, "And Flash your mother is looking for us over there."
Pushing him into motion I look back to see Garret approaching his grandmother but decide to not dwell on the talk they're about to have.
"Are you okay?" I ask as we hurry away from them.
He doesn't answer and just nods with a hum. He does however ask where his mother is and that's when I frown.
"You know I made it up so we could flee the conflict, right?"
He stops in his tracks before turning to me and I can see the gears turning in his head.
"Oh, yeah."
We keep eye contact and it must take a toll on him because he then avoids my stare and decides to look forward, all stiff.
I'm guessing the only reason he doesn't flee is the fact that our arms are still tangled together but I don't want to let go.
Maybe it's selfish but since the last time we talked, or more precisely the last we talked and I was not in gear, he ran away and ghosted me.
I want an explanation.
"This place is beautiful," I say looking around at the structure trying to pry a conversation out of him.
"I have something to tell you."
His tone is particular and I can't make out if he's hopeful or desperate.
My own tone embarrasses me as I egg him on full of anticipation.
"There's this type of dance and-" he cuts himself off and stares behind us.
Turning around, I spot McCoy staring right back at him.
"Not again," I hear him say under his breath.
I want to ask him if he's gonna be okay or if he'd like me to stay with him to talk to Garret but he shakes my hands off his arm and grabs it before taking off in the direction of the stairs.
"Come on follow me."
I can only let out a small squeal of surprise before catching up with his footing as the previous noisy venu dies down when we reach the second floor.
Once up there he doesn't stop and continues to sprint down the hall before taking a turn and tugging me to a corner away from McCoy.
My back is placed against the wall and I rearrange the jacket on my shoulders as I see Flash look around the corner to see if Garret is following us.
I suppose he gave up the idea as Flash visibly relaxes and turns back to me.
The proximity reminds me of that night at the laser game and the sudden look on his face tells me he must reminisce as well.
He knows that I know what we're both thinking about because we avoid eye contact and I let my eyes bounce between the multiple decors as a decoy.
"This place is beautiful. I wonder what it would feel to go to sleep in a place like that," I try to deflect from the tension.
"It's like any other place, you go to bed and you fall asleep," he brushes off trying to avoid the tension as well.
The simple statement makes me turn back to him and make eye contact as the realization slowly sets in.
"No."
"No, what?" he frowns.
"You slept here before?" my question sounds more like a statement.
"Yeah."
"But you live like 20 minutes away."
"Oh so now you know where I live Parker?"
My eyes widen at his insinuation.
I'm not a stalker!
"Well after you pointed out that I didn't know where you lived I was curious. If anything you're the one who told me I should know where you lived."
"Yeah and by that I meant coming over not googling my address."
"I did not Google your address!" I lie, "You're making me look bad!"
My restlessness makes him laugh.
Still chuckling he points ahead silently asking me to follow him.
"It's more of a tradition. My mom wants us to stay and sleep here every year," he says walking peacefully beside me.
It's a change compared to his erratic running just a few minutes ago.
"So you also slept at the fairytale mansion?"
"Fairytale mansion?"
"Yeah, the one where Lea got married."
Confused, it takes him a few seconds before his frown disappears and his mouth opens with an 'Oh'.
"Yeah," he simply says opening a door as I stand here frozen.
I know he probably wants me to enter but I'm confused and look at him waiting for an explanation.
He doesn't answer and instead walks inside reaching the other side of the bed to retrieve something.
With hesitation, I take a cautious step in looking around as if the room is full of boobie traps when I hear a dull thump and look back to see him throwing a gym bag on the queen-sized bed.
It must be the glamour of the night inhibiting my ability to be logical at times because it takes me a few seconds before my confusion turns into curiosity.
"Is that your bag?"
"No, I just love going through other people's stuff."
I don't answer or laugh and just raise my brows.
"Yes Parker, It's my bag."
I relax and close the door behind me before walking toward the bed warily and sitting down softly as the mattress sinks under me.
"I thought if I have to run away from Garret, why not pause before going back out there?" he explains throwing a book on the bed covers.
He dives back into his bag as I grab the book.
"Hey, I know that book!" I note joyfully.
I see him stop scrambling through his bag and look back up at me.
"Really?" he hesitates.
"Yeah I talked about it with Susan on your birthday. Usually, she's not into these kind of books but she's been watching a show similar to it so I mentioned it to her."
When he doesn't answer and doesn't make a move to dive back into his bag, another question comes troubling me.
"By the way, how did you hear about this book?"
"Oh um, someone told me about it," he says fumbling with the clothes inside the bag.
"Really? Who?" I ask knowing this isn't his type of book.
He doesn't answer and I assume it must be Garret who told him about the book and he simply doesn't wanna talk about him.
"You know as much as I don't like Garret, he's been your friend for years," I tip-toe around the issue and remember that he must not know about the video I saw where he's going off on McCoy and his clique.
"And?"
"And. With such a great taste in books, how could you not forgive him?" I try to turn the tension into something lighter with a chuckle gesturing to the book.
His frown turns into surprise, "Oh yeah, yeah! It's Garret who told me about it a few weeks ago."
"I never thought Garret would be the kind of guy who reads outside of school," I try to say without sounding mean.
A flash of red in my peripheral vision attracts my attention to turn away from the papercover and fills me with excitement when I recognize the sight.
"You brought him!" I say gripping the plushy and letting the book fall back on the covers.
He seems satisfied with my reaction and tugs his bag to fall back down before he too takes a seat beside me.
I lean down with my feet dangling as my back makes contact with the lavish bedding.
I take a look over at the Spiderman plushy wondering if in the small period of time any harm came his way. My detective work comes out dry as the plush doesn't seem to have been put under any distress when I hear him lay down as well.
I turn my gaze to him ready to make another joke and congratulate him on the plush's wellbeing when I see him already looking back at me and lose my smile as the memories flash back.
The muffled music, the way his curls were laying on his bed. He's been growing them out.
I like his hair long.
I like his lips too.
The calmness I feel is cut short when the bedroom door swings open and the sound of heels thud on the carpeted ground.
I raise up in my seat in a rush and grip the plushy hard against my chest in a panic as if I had just been caught having sex.
"Jee! Ever heard of knocking?!" he shouts sitting up after me.
"Coming from you?" Lea says looking up and down at him with an incredulous expression.
He sighs. I don't know if it comes from annoyance or relief from the previous scene.
"I've been looking for you two, your mother sent me to get you, come on now it's about to start," she says turning back on her heels and pulling the door behind her to leave it half closed waiting for us to join her.
"What's about to start?" I wonder looking at him after admiring her walk away.
The face I find makes mine fall. The paleness and distress plastered on his face makes me feel like I'm about to be the butt of the joke.
His blank stare angers me and figuring out I won't get any explanation from him I jump on my feet straightening the jacket on my shoulder to run after her.
Any other day it would've been to get an autograph but right now my only hope is to get reassured that all of it is just a huge misunderstanding.
Surely 'It's about to start' cannot be that bad? Maybe just a toast, or a speech?
"What's about to start?" I say trying to catch up to her but my question goes unanswered when we reach the top of the stairs and I see the Thompson matriarch taking the venue by storm as she speaks up in the middle of the stairs with her voice reasoning through the immense space.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
I hear her call out before my arm is engulfed and my gaze is redirected to him.
"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you really, but I kept being interrupted and then there was Garret and then we had a moment of calm and we started to talk and-"
"This evening has been fulfilling and I enjoy each and every one of your presence-"
My ears cannot keep up in between the two speeches. I'm even more overwhelmed when I realize that Lea has left us at the top of the split stairs, walked beside Aliyah, and joined her newlywed husband down the stairs.
"The time has come, and I know you enjoy it as much as I do," she says with a cheeky smile and a look of knowledge across the room sending the surroundings into a fit of chuckles.
"So now. I invite you to take your partner by the arm, and let's join each other in the other room so the waltz can take place."
The end of her speech sends a cold sweat down my back and I turn back to him unable to scream.
I'm speechless and incapable of voicing my anger and frustration.
The words want to come out but my brain is mushing together my two arguments, the one where I tear him a new one for not warning me or the one where I yell that I don't know how to dance.
Why didn't he think of inviting someone who knows how to dance?!
"A waltz?! I don't even know how to dance!" I say loudly enough to share my panic and frustration without attracting any looks.
His newest excuse gets cut off by his mother reaching us at the top of the stairs, " What are you two still doing here, come on chop chop," she finishes clapping her hands to drive us to hurry downstairs.
Another gasp fights its way into my lungs when I realize I'm about to disappoint her as well.
It's only logical for her son to dance in an event she organized.
I'm standing here looking like an idiot with my mouth wide open when my own voice surprises me, "I don't know how to dance!" I say point-blank.
"Of course you do! You went to the same elementary school and I distinctly remember your grade took ball lessons," she says proudly.
The new information confuses me and I doubt the woman's memory.
Maybe she's confusing me with another girl.
Not knowing how to question her or flatly deny her version of the event, I start to babble as I notice Lea walking back up the stairs with her arm under her husband's.
"No-I. I don't. I mean-I never," I ramble, any argument dying on my tongue leaving me a stuttering mess.
I don't know how to word my sentence when my eyes notice Flash's face getting sour the more his mother insists.
"Mom she said she doesn't want to," he says dryly.
I don't know if it's out of annoyance or out of shame but both possibilities are taking a toll on me and I feel the tears coming alongside the lack of oxygen.
"Well, what do you propose we do? Your father isn't here so I can't dance and one of us needs to!"
"We've been hosting this event every year for 5 years now I think we can sit this one out," he says somewhat confidently.
"I would've liked a bit of a heads up Eugene," Aliyah scolds him through her teeth.
Yeah, me too.
"They're waiting for us. Flash come on, come dance with me," Lea says extending her hand to him and taking a look at her proposal I see Mme.Thompson's bulb light up atop her head.
"You didn't even tell her there would be a dance?!" Her accusation seems rhetorical as the deep frown on her face doesn't seem ready to welcome any excuses.
He scrunches his eyes close and rubs them but doesn't answer and opens them back up to look at me.
I see regret and wonder if he regrets inviting me. A ball clogs my throat and I try to stay as stone-faced as possible instead of making a scene by dropping on the stairs and starting to ball like a baby.
He breathes in before following Lea's lead and I stop him. Placing my hand on his chest, I then shrug off the jacket he gave me and hand it back to him, my subconscious somehow realizing he would need it to look put together.
He walks down the stairs as his mother softly takes my arm under hers.
"I'm sorry, I would think my son would have the decency to tell you about this," she sighs as we walk down the stairs.
"But then again I should have known better with how different he's been acting lately."
I didn't intend to answer but that last bit of rant resonates with me and the wave of embarrassment and sadness I feel take a step back to leave place to my curiosity.
"Yeah I think Lea made a comment about it," I say looking at his back.
He suddenly turns his head around and looks at me following him before he turns back around and walks ahead taking his place with Lea in the middle of the room with the others.
Mme.Thompson stops us to stand around the crowd around the room and leave enough space for the others to dance in the middle of it.
Taking her attention away from me, she nods away seemingly to someone before music starts resounding in the area.
"I shouldn't burden you with that," she says with a warm smile while she rubs my arm in comfort.
"Oh no it doesn't burden me. I just hope he gets better."
My well wishes widen her smile.
"I'm glad he has you to hang out with," she says warmly.
"You're a good influence on him. and I can only hope you two stay close, it's not every day my son doesn't complain about this event."
"Yes, he told me about that. He was very thankful for saving him from those stares about him not having a date," I remember our conversation.
"Stares? Why would anyone stare at him fo not having a date?"
I frown, "You know. The rule about having a date for this charity in fear of being the talk of the night," I say trying to nudge her to remember.
"There was never such a rule. Who told you that? Eugene? Léa?"
I'm left speechless and with my mouth hanging open as the frown orning my face doesn't subside.
Her own frown is quickly replaced by a smile before she abruptly apologizes when a woman motions her over.
The loss of her arm is like a warm blanket has been ripped away making me notice the stares I was previously blind to.
A couple stares at me while another switches their stare back and forth between me and Flash, probably wondering why his date is not the one in his arms.
I look at him and see he's arguing with Léa while they waltz around and the sight would impress me if I wasn't confused as to why they look like they're ready to bite at each other's throat.
Another peep and I see that same man watching me with a nasty look before not-so-subtly whispering to his wife who makes eye contact with me before she answers him with a snarky smile.
I look around trying to convince myself I'm being tricked by my own paranoia when I start hearing my own intakes of breath and know it's a sign that it's all getting too much.
In my panic and without Ms.Thompson around to take my mind off things, I search for his face and find him already looking at me.
The panic sets in my chest and I know I need to step out for fresh air but I hesitate to do so in worry of the scene looking bad to the public.
Feeling the meltdown creeping up closer and closer, I look around and notice an arch under the stairs leading to a hallway and remember seeing multiple people passing through during the night and I conclude it must be the path towards a bathroom.
Sending a tense smile his way, I turn around to walk away.
Getting closer to my goal I step aside to let someone exit before walking in and locking the bathroom door behind me.
With the door shutting off most other noise from outside, I stand in front of the mirror and take a deep breath filling my lungs and trying to shake my head off those thoughts before hanging my head down and blowing out.
I raise my head and look at myself in the mirror to see the tears pricking my eyes and silently scold myself before reaching for a towel and trying my best to chase away the tears without messing up my mascara.
Another breath in and I take in my appearance one more time giving myself a pep talk before straightening my dress and deciding to go back out there before anyone starts to whisper about a possible date on the run.
I wouldn't want him to be surrounded.
Or maybe he'd like me to go.
I remember his face, the one he had on those damn stairs where I wondered why I accepted his invitation and why I let myself believe it could be that easy.
I violently shake my head off those thoughts and unlock the door ready to indulge the rest of this night before cutting all contact with Flash Thompson as I hear the distant music flooding back in my ears.
Lost in my thoughts I run straight into someone.
"I'm so sorry I-" My automatic response is cut short when I recognize him and the words get stuck in my throat.
"Hi," he blurs out.
I can only say hi back coldly as I believe any other response would send me back into the bathroom to place another tissue under my eyes.
"I swear I was gonna tell you."
His voice breaks the silence and when my ears register his words, I can't respond and instead walk around him to the other side of the hallway with my mind fixed on the idea that tonight was a mistake.
"No need to say sorry Flash-" I say nonchalantly, done with this poor decision of mine to accept his invitation.
"But I want to!"
I mess with a bust displayed on a table and let my finger slide on the statue trying to avoid his stare.
"Listen, it's completely my fault and I'm an idiot for not telling you. I was freaking out when I asked you to come here with me and I had my mind set so hard on you telling me you wouldn't come that when you said yes I was taken by surprise and the dance completely slipped off my mind."
I listen on with a frown. I stop messing with the bust and turn around leaning on the table as I look down avoiding his stare.
"My mom was the one who reminded me of it and then you called freaking out about the dress so I focused on that and I forgot again and then you walked in with your dress and then there was Garret's grandma and then Garrett and everything else followed so when there was just the two of us I just couldn't remember. And then Léa came in and you looked so sad and scared and angry I didn't know what to do."
I stand there listening to him spit out everything weighing on him before he suddenly breathes in for the first time and looks at me.
"I'm so sorry. I really am."
His gaze traps me and the remorse drowning his irises drains the anger out of me.
"You also lied about the date rule," I say, my voice barely able to convey any emotion.
I don't even find it in myself to yell at him, any scolding coming to mind being one he already gave himself.
"I'm an idiot and a coward and I completely get it if you never want to talk to me again."
At that I don't even know what to answer.
I did say I'd cut all contact with Flash Thompson after tonight but just a few weeks back I would've also said I'd never talk to him outside of schoolwork.
"Okay," I say after a while of silence trying to set us back in a way we can both be comfortable discussing with each other.
"If we're going on an apology spree I think I should be apologizing as well."
"What could you possibly have to apologize for? I'm the one who invited you last minute, so last minute that you didn't even have anything to wear."
I hear his step closing up on me before I put distance between us and walk back and forth down the hall.
"You invited me here to be your partner and I couldn't even participate in the important part of the night. Then there were the stairs and then people were talking and looking at you and Lea and then at me and it was all just so-"
My apology turns into a ramble and the simple retelling of the event produces that same panic inside of me.
Getting ready to excuse myself to go to the bathroom a second time, I turn around to see him standing right behind me. I can't look at him and instead focus my gaze on the floor trying to breathe properly when I feel his arms gently wrap around me and pull me in for a hug.
My finger messes with the fabric at the back of his jacket as my face is buried in the front of it trying to hide my face and not make eye contact.
I fool myself into thinking if I avoid eye contact with him we will stop talking in circles or better yet stop avoiding each other like the plague.
I also hope this way he won't see me on the verge of crying for the second time tonight.
"If anything," he says using my words as I feel his hand come up to stroke my hair, "I'm the one who should've thought better than to think you would still remember those dance classes," he says in a lighter tone.
I recognize his attempt to lighten up the situation and change the topic.
His comment makes me frown and against the warm feeling blossoming in my chest, I lift my face from the depth of his jacket to look at him.
"Yeah your mom talked about that but I don't think I ever took any dance classes, I think she mistook me for someone else."
His face, previously relaxed, falls and a sympathetic smile appears, "No you did," he says quietly, matching the hushed hallway.
My knitted brows are enough indication for him to continue his explanation.
He exhales through his nose and looks down messing with my hand to avoid making eye contact, "It was back when we were…around six? Seven?"
My confusion only deepens as I'm unable to rack my brain for a memory when I feel him tug on my hand gently drawing me closer to him and my frown turns into a muted gasp.
I don't have time to ask what he is doing when he laces our hands together and asks me in the quietest voice if he can.
It is then I realize he's asking to put his hand on my bare back to, I assume, teach me how to waltz.
I can't find my voice, the situation taking me aback so much so that instead of voicing my consent I decide to instead nod and place his hand myself to reassure him of my agreement.
I did not realize that my back was cold, most likely due to getting used to the lack of coverage but I feel it now as his hand feels hot against it.
My full attention is on him before my eyes are drawn down as I see him taking a step forward driving me to respond and step backward.
The motion has me uncontrollably giggling as my left foot follows his right to step to the side.
"Why exactly are we doing this right now?" I ask with another titter.
"Doing what?"
"Dancing Flash," I laugh, "Waltzing in the hallway."
"Dusting up memories. Proving to you that you do know how to dance or if you're right, to teach you how to waltz to apologize for not telling you there would be a dance."
My previous smile falls and I tilt my head back with a loud sigh.
"I apologized again," he awkwardly notices.
"Yes Flash, stop apologizing," I say looking at him straight in the eyes and raising my brows to emphasize my demand.
"I can't, I feel bad."
I reposition my hand on his shoulder with a light stroke as I squeeze our hands letting us continue swaying gently.
I find myself frustrated at his confession when my brain clears up and suddenly remember our last time together.
He feels bad about not telling me about the dance but he doesn't feel bad about running off the last time we saw each other?!
I remember waiting an entire week for a call or even a text. Jumping to my phone at every notification hoping it was him giving me an explanation for running off on me.
I force myself to brush it off when the feeling of his thumb stroking my back envelops me in a daze I want to hold onto until the night inevitably ends.
"Let's call it even then. You didn't tell me about the dance and I couldn't fulfill my side of the bargain."
"It wasn't a bargain, you just did me a favor."
I can't argue back and decide to look away.
"See, you're doing it."
I look back at him with panic thinking he's going to call me out on my avoidant stare and start a new argument when I see him smile before I notice that he's talking about us dancing and it is then that I look down and realize I'm naturally mirroring his movements.
I laugh impressed at myself before looking back at him as we acknowledge my accomplishment.
Our shared smile diminishes as he stops our dance.
"I didn't invite you because I was desperate," he confesses, "I just really wanted to hang out with you."
I stand there frozen before he gently nudges me sending us back into a soft waltz.
His honesty stuns me and I follow his lead again.
"I think it might be the first time you've been honest with me," It's my turn to confess.
"I don't always lie," he defends himself.
"No, but you never opened up like that before."
I see him trying to avoid eye contact and I silently scold myself as my words seem to drive him away once again.
"I like that," I quickly follow up.
That does it. his eyes raise back to meet mine.
"Why don't you do it more often?"
At that, he seems to hesitate as we gently sway side to side.
"You know friends share their feelings," I remind him of our conversation yesterday where he invited me to come here as a friend.
I can see that the memory rings a bell as he stops our movement once more.
I see his eyes desperate to say something but he's struggling with himself to find the right words as I witness his mouth open and close over and over again.
"See, like riding a bike. It comes back naturally," he manages to say stepping back trying to avoid the subject.
"You're doing it again," I say trying my best to not sound frustrated.
He huffs and slides his hand down his face.
He huff?!
How is he the one pissed off right now?!
I cross my hands taking a harsher stance.
"Okay, you said open so I'm gonna be open," he says fidgeting around.
"If you want us to be friends, you can't expect me to just tell you everything that goes through my head at every moment."
I sigh, "I guess it's fair."
My response appears to relax him.
"But," he interjects, "I guess I could make an effort."
I smile despite myself and look away to try and hide the fact that he turned the situation around once again.
My attempt fails when he looks for my face to catch me smile.
I turn away but he walks around me trying to catch me.
In a last attempt, I hid my face on the verge of laughter.
"Hey wait, you're cheating!" he protests with a chuckle.
I feel his hand on my wrists and yet he doesn't use force to uncover my face.
We stay like this for a moment before I muster the courage to slide my hands away from my eyes and meet his.
He smiles back and that feeling comes again, the one where I feel electricity run through my body.
Like the night he kissed me.
I feel frozen in space like I'm only able to breathe and blink.
He gets closer, so close that our forehead touches and I instinctively close my eyes waiting to feel his lips on mine like that night.
He's so close and yet doesn't make a move to close the distance between us. It makes me groan internally when I remember he's probably waiting for me to make a move.
He's literally two inches away from me and I'm still here what more does he need? for me to swing a flare in the air? Scream at him at the top of my lungs to kiss me?
The tension is suffocating and it's cut short when I feel a breeze of air where I should feel him.
"Thank you, I really wanted to dance with Lea. And don't be mad, I promise, you'll get a dance too," he says cheekily as I stand there completely confused.
He's quick to hold my shoulders and push us to the side. It's when I get my senses back and see a man walk past us to access the bathroom.
I get the answer I'm looking for when I look back at him and see him smile at me.
That's when I have to hold back my laugh with him as the bathroom door closes.
Placing my hand on my mouth, I snort before I see an arm presented to me and look up to see Flash waiting for me.
With the tension now gone I happily hold his arm as he directs us away from the lonely hallway to the booming evening when we cross paths with Mme.Thompson.
"There you are!" she says joyfully.
"I was talking to a few colleagues and they were adamant that I at least ask you to join us."
I open my mouth trying to find the words to politely decline when her son beats me to it.
"No Mom I think it's time for her to go home. Her aunt will kill me if I don't drive her back before 1."
Sharing her chagrin, Mme.Thompson bids me her goodbyes before she shares a look with Flash and tells him to come back as soon as possible telling him he'll be spending time with Garret.
The end of her sentence isn't met with agreement or joy but silence as I'm ushered outside with the cold temperature that doesn't get to reach me before I feel his jacket engulf my shoulders once again.
Another gesture he makes is to offer his hand to help me walk down the stairs of the building. I pause and look down at my heels and conclude like him that it's going to be harder to step down the stairs than it was to climb them.
The thought makes me laugh to myself before I accept his hand and carefully make my way down with another set of giggles.
"I'm never borrowing heels from May ever again," I manage to let out in between giggles.
"Miss Parker forgot to calculate the probability that those heels were gonna be a problem?"
The remark takes me by surprise and makes me stumble.
I crouch to make sure I don't end up face-first on the concrete and my position makes me snort as I hide my face behind my hands and kneel in the middle of the stairs to ground myself.
From any other perspective, I look drunk and I'm being chaperoned by Harrison Thompson's son.
My laugh turns into a fit and I'm left laughing out loud, gripping my aching stomach and praying the feeling doesn't kill me.
"Okay I think I got it, sit down," he says laughing about my situation.
Lost in my euphoria I barely manage to sit up on one of the stairs waiting to see his plan to help me down.
I try to calm myself down when he stands in front of the stairs and places my hands on his shoulders. I finally understand his idea when I'm lifted in the air by my hips and grip his shoulder in a reflex as I'm left gasping when I land on the ground.
I gaze at him and his previous smile falls a bit as he stands there with a blank expression.
I'm almost sure I see his eyes switch to my lips.
"Sorry," he apologizes for his sudden plan to get me down those stairs with a small smile trying his luck at diffusing the tension.
I reassure him before he gently directs me to his car.
The silence is calming and comfortable and I notice I had never been in his car before.
I bask in the comfort, all giddy as I look outside the window admiring the city I love to swing in so much.
He chimes in with small talks here and there and in my new feeling of serenity, I mindlessly make one-word answers.
After a while of admiring the scenery, I look back inside the car when I notice him fidgeting around looking tense.
"Is everything okay?"
"Are you mad?" he asks as his hand tightens up on the steering wheel.
"No, why do you ask?" I return the question fidgeting in my seat to get more comfortable.
"I don't know, you don't talk much. Usually I can't get you to stop talking," he says scratching his face before returning his focus to the road, his side eye gauging my reaction.
I guess the comfortable silence wasn't shared and so I rattle my brain to find a topic we could discuss to fill the apparent discomfort he feels.
Trying to take the attention away from the topic of 'us', I remember the look he and McCoy shared and decide to ask hastily.
"Are you gonna reconcile with Garret?"
"Is that what you're mad about?"
"No Flash, I'm not mad. I'm just trying to make conversation since you seem to think my silence means that I'm angry."
"So you're not mad," he affirms one more time.
"No, I'm not mad."
"Cool," he finishes before he falls himself into silence.
"So? Garret?" I ask after a few beats of silence.
"Let's not talk about Garret."
"Too late, now I'm curious," I say turning on my side to give him my full attention.
"I reminded you how to dance cut me some slack," he whines.
"No," I laugh, "You taught me how to dance. I told you I didn't take dance courses."
His own laugh is short-lived, "Yes, you did."
"When?" I challenge him.
He pauses and takes a deep breath as we reach a red light, "It was during that time you moved to your Aunt May's."
The confession throws a cold in the vehicle.
"Oh," is all that manages to come out of my mouth.
"I remember," he says messing with his steering wheel waiting for the light to turn green, "You looked out of it during that time. It was what? 1st grade? 2nd grade?"
I wish he wouldn't pause in between bombs because the multiple aspects of the current situation make everything point to us being forced to look at each other.
I audibly exhale and wait for anything to come and fill the heavy silence of the car.
I even think about reaching over and turning on the radio.
"Why would we talk about my friendship with Garret?" he tries to distract from the conversation with a new topic.
"Oh, so there IS a friendship," I point out jumping on the occasion to step away from the previous topic, proud we have succeeded in shifting the subject.
In a streak of luck, the light turns green, and new chatter fills the car with a newfound lightness.
He sighs, "I don't know. Would that be a problem?"
"Why do you ask me? I don't manage your friendships."
"I don't know. I thought about just leaving that friendship behind but who knows," he says glancing at me with a teasing glint in his eyes, "If you root for him I could find it in myself to grace McCoy."
I chuckle as I change my position deciding to hug the headrest with my arm to rest my head on it.
"Sounds to me like you're afraid to choose for yourself."
He scoffs and laughs it off, "No, I'm just asking for someone else's opinion. Second opinions are important too."
It's silent as he shifts gears and I realize we're getting closer to my neighborhood.
"I thought about just ghosting him for a while. And with what happened last time, it feels like he's never gonna change," he confesses, "And maybe that's how it's supposed to end between us two."
"Ghosting?"
"Yeah, I don't think a discussion could get us anywhere useful. Garret is not the type of person to apologize anyways."
His demeanor is nonchalant but his expression shows a rare vulnerability.
"Some people just don't grow up," I barely manage to hear him mutter.
I hesitate but the observation kills me.
"That's very wise of you," I notice out loud.
He realizes I must've heard him and chuckles mostly at himself.
"I am wise," he proudly states as he turns the car again.
"That's just something Léa said," he adds.
He notices when I frown, "Believe it or not but my problems with Garret started before his attempt on your life," he jokes as he parks.
With the car now off I place my hand on his shoulder as a silent encouragement, squeezing and smiling at him before letting go of the headrest and looking out the window to see my apartment building.
I don't think much of it and open the car door to slip out of the vehicle.
"You know I'm supposed to be the one that opens the door for you, right?"
I turn my focus away from the building to see him getting out of his car, his head poking up from his car's roof.
He gets closer and stands right beside me at the bottom of the paved stairs.
He faces me and with newfound courage, I try my luck.
"Didn't you say we were going to this event as friends?"
"Opening a car door doesn't mean anything. It just says I have manners."
I hum impressed by his quick answer and see his hand already out for me to take.
Frowning, his smile turns my grimace into a bright smile when I recall the stairs incident.
I chuckle and grip his hand as he leads me up the stairs.
"See," he says as we reach the top of the stairs, "Just a gentleman."
My laugh dies down as we face each other with an awkward silence that I break when I slip his jacket off of my shoulder and hand it back to him.
He grasps it and looks down at it. He seems to hesitate before he looks back up at me clutching the fabric in his hands.
"School starts back tomorrow. See you there?" he asks.
"Yeah," I let out, my voice softer than it should be, "See you there."
I end the night with a kiss on his cheek, taking the risk of letting it last longer than it should.
The silence isn't tense or awkward and I know this time it goes for the both of us as we share a smile and I grip his shoulder squeezing it one last time.
"Good luck with McCoy."
His serene expression turns sour as he scrunchs his eyes shut and rolls his head back.
"You didn't have to bring up McCoy," he whines as I let a quick laugh escape me one last time tonight.
"Good night," I say with a smile, satisfied with how fulfilling this evening has been.
"Good night."
I let go of him and step back towards the door before I have to inevitably turn around and leave him there.
My last view of him is his figure standing right there looking back at me with a charming smile.
I'm not sure but I could swear he grazes his cheek where I kissed him goodbye in-between the smallest gap of the building's door as it shuts close.
#flash thompson imagine#flash thompson x reader#flash thompson x oc#flash thompson fanfic#flash thompson#spiderman homecoming#spiderman: no way home#spiderman far from home#spiderman: far from home#fanfic
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temptation tuesday
okay i’m trying my hand at this this week for the first time! since i didn’t get in on the fun last week bc i was klmasdf Suffering. so i got tagged by @diazass for temptation tuesday, so here are some wips i have that i’m considering getting back into and/or possibly writing for the big bang?? in part i may be using this to decide what i’m writing for the big bang if any of y’all like any of these.
1. 118 ghost hunters au - i’ve shared from this verse a couple of times but it’s actually a wacky little thing i’ve dreamed up where the 118 (minus eddie bc he just moved to la) are LA’s only official team of ghost hunters, and they’re state/city funded just like other emergency workers but for ghosts. so ghosts are kind of a known entity but not everyone believes in them - but the supernatural is real, eddie’s house is actually haunted, and buck has a messed up trauma backstory relating to his own personal supernatural experience :) also. ghosts so i get to indulge my own interest in Spooky
2. action star buck / fight coordinator eddie - i have also posted excerpts from this like a thousand years ago now but. basically buck is an actor and the star of a popular action franchise (something like a blend between mission impossible and john wick) and he keeps insisting on doing his own stunts, and bobby and chim, who work with him, are genuinely concerned about him and think he isn’t coming at it from a healthy place. enter eddie, a mostly retired stunt coordinator who now runs a gym with lena bosko, who gets Pulled Back In For One Last Job by chim, because bobby thinks he could help out with buck. cue resentment and distance slowly building into friendship and then they fall in love :) also you know. movie sets and fight scenes and dangerous stunts and buck having Issues with thinking he’s expendable.
3. buck is a mind reader - i still don’t have much of this, but i like what i wrote - so it’s that fic based on the concept that buck actually can read minds like we all joked about but. i ended up going with him always having been able to instead of getting it from the lightning - with the one hitch that he cannot read eddie’s mind, kind of like how edward can’t read bella’s mind in twilight???? i’m a cornball i know i get it
4. hunter eddie au - this is also more vague and could maybe be combined with the above idea depending on how i handled it all but basically one night i spent like kasmdlf an hour or something spiraling in kaitlin @iinryer‘s dms over the concept of eddie being raised as a hunter (yes like supernatural style) and like. feeling very trapped by the system of violence and like the only thing he’s good for is hunting but then he meets buck who is some kind of supernatural creature and eddie doesn’t realize at first and he’s doing a lot of hard work on his own to rise above the way he was raised and the kind of things his dad said about “monsters” and then eventually he finds out about buck and - well. you know. you get it
5. eddie goes back to el paso - this fic has no real plot but it is like. my baby my cinnamon apple. originally i started it after 5b after hero complex and i was like. what if eddie stayed in el paso for a while to fix things with his family and then he invited buck to join him. and then instead it eventually became actually what if frank encouraged eddie to go back to el paso to really fully confront things instead of just taking a quick visit and he suggested eddie also take like. a safe person for himself and eddie was like well obviously that would be buck so then they go to el paso together and eddie walks buck through like. all his childhood memories and all the places he grew up and like. idk that’s the whole fic. but i think about her a lot sdkalfm
SORRY I’VE NEVER SHUT UP ONE DAY IN MY LIFE this is so many words about my silly little ideas. i’ll tag @spaceprincessem @comaboybuck @buckactuallys @iinryer @gayeddieagenda @fallingthorns @colonoscopys and anybody else who sees this and wants to do it please feel free to say i tagged you!
thank you to anyone who reads klmasdf any of this. please do tell me if they sound interesting. thanks bye <3
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
I was tagged by @keirgreeneyes
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Not counting orphaned or anonymized, 297.
2. What's your total A03 word count?
803,155 words, and that includes co-author input. I've been a short fic, instant satisfaction kinda writer for most of this time.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Currently trying to finish something for Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, and editing the epic Righteous Blood, Ruthless Blades campaign story with @minutia-r. I get really into a fandom and write a bunch for it, then I get out of the fandom and write whatever + original fiction, then maybe get into a different fandom. You know how it is.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Bonus Material, The Makings of Fate, One Thing or Another, The Upstart King and His Golden Concubine, and Some Sugar for Daddy, all of them Scum Villain. It's definitely the biggest fandom I've written for recently. I used to write Discworld and LotR, which are bigger, but those are mostly not up on AO3 and none are very long.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I usually do, especially for smaller fandom fics, not always. But even if I don't, I see and appreciate; I also see and appreciate the kudos. No pressure to comment, y'all.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I have written a fair bit with angsty endings. Maybe The Greyest Timeline (Community); or maybe it just felt angsty, because I wrote it to process my grief over Troy and Abed's separation.
Also there may be some I anonymized... but that's my business.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
What a question. 🤔 I'm not sure I can answer that one. I recognize a lot may have more mixed endings, but there are too many to think through.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Rarely. I can't remember an incident right now.
9. Do you write smut?
Yeah.
10. Do you write crossovers?
Not as a rule. My favourite of the few currently up is The Last Florentian, a crossover between Poirot and Jeeves & Wooster, in which Lady Florence and Miss Lemon fall in love.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! Sometimes ones I really didn't think deserved it, but it's not up to me, is it? I always give permission.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Hehe yeah, the Lin Moniao series, which grew out of TTRPG.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
Pass!
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Original works. My 60s LA gumshoe novel, the superhero comedy that in retrospect is probably not as funny as I thought it was.
16. What are your writing strengths?
🤔 Side characters with interiority. Ability to keep an entire world in my head, and invent on the spot. Flexibility. Sense of the shape of a story. Not getting too hung up on whether what I produce is popular (so I don't write stuff I don't care about just for the clicks, or get distressed if I get none).
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Losing motivation in the middle of writing longer fic. Underthinking. Messy. Unable to edit effectively due to having lost interest. Self-indulgent ficlets that are more me speaking my thoughts out than anything designed for an audience. Piling my plate too high when I get excited for challenges. Occasionally I have to take a break in the Pit of Despair.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Usually not necessary. Fine if you like it.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Not entirely sure. It was either Dragonlance or Ranma 1/2. Neither will be on AO3.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
If the Lin Moniao series counts as a fic, then it's the Lin Moniao series.
Has everybody been tagged? tagging uhhh @minutia-r
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when Star and i started working on Dancing (With Another Man) there were two things we wanted to dig into
bird flash but messy
the world building of A/B/O
if you wanna see the mess go read the fic for yourself ;]
but right now i wanna talk about a little world building rabbit hole i fell down the other night @ 2am while fighting sleep.
ramblings about the genetic inheritance of dynamics below the cut
i really went into the weeds with this one y'all. I've always been interested in genetics and if i hadn't been dead set on going to art school i might have been a bio major instead. so this was definitely more than a little self indulgent on my part.
the main question i had was how are dynamics passed from parents to offspring. i broke that very vague question down into two more specific ones:
could a child only have one of the dynamics of their parents, or were the genetics more complicated than that
if a child COULD have a dynamic that their parents didn't have, how would that work.
so at first i was kind of just writing down my thoughts based on what i remembered of genetics (i haven't taken a bio class since sophomore year of college so i was a little rusty)
what i came up with made sense to me but i didn't have the energy that night to actually research different modes of inheritance, or to figure out if what i had come up with was scientifically sound in any way.
The next day i decided to hunker down and read a whole bunch of articles trying to refresh my memory on the basics of genetics, and also looking into modes of inheritance other than complete dominance.
I knew from the beginning i didn't want any one designation to be the 'dominant' trait, or for another to be 'recessive.' i just wasn't sure exactly what mode of inheritance would make the most sense.
after a few days of hashing out the science of it (and info-dumping to Star about my findings in our discord) i figured out a system that i liked, plus it made at least some sort of scientific sense.
this is, afterall, for an omegaverse fic so i wasn't going to break my back trying to make this work. BUT its going to come into play later in the story. So i wanted it to have SOME sort of logic behind it.
So there is one gene that determines a persons Dynamic. This gene has a total of 5 alleles and a persons dynamic is a result of which two out of those 5 markers they were born with. These alleles interact with each other using the incomplete dominance mode of inheritance.
the alleles are as follows
[A]: strong presentation of Alpha traits
[a]: weak presentation of Alpha traits
[O]: strong presentation of Omega traits
[o]: weak presentation of Omega traits
[x]: no presentation of dynamic traits [recessive]
[x] is the lack of a dynamic marker, so it mirrors what ever other dynamic marker it is paired with
now these alleles can be combined in a total of 13 distinct genotypes, 12 of which result in one of the three designations, and one where an individual has no designation at all.
Alpha/Omega Genotypes:
[AA] / [Ax] | [OO] / [Ox]
an individual with these genotypes displays a strong presentation of Dynamic traits. While this could affect their physical build, what its really referring to is how the body produces hormones and pheromones. People with these genotypes produce hormones and pheromones in excess. This could cause things such as a strong scent, intense cycles, and aggressive tendencies in Alphas. In Omegas this could mean being more prone to submission or falling into the Omega headspace more readily.
[Aa] / [Oo]
an individual with these genotypes would be considered 'balanced' . They produce dynamic hormones in 'normal' levels and outside of their cycles these hormones would not impact their daily lives.
[aa] / [ax] | [oo] / [ox]
these genotypes indicate a weak presentation of dynamic traits. these individuals would produce hormones and pheromones at a deficit, and therefore would probably have a weaker scent, and milder cycles. They might also need to use CIDs to jump start their cycles if their body won't do it for them
Betas are the result of a person possessing the genetic markers for both Alpha and Omega. therefore there is no way for a Beta to possess the [x] marker
Beta Genotypes:
[AO]
A Beta with this genotype would be balanced, in that they produce equal amounts of both Alpha and Omega hormones. Not enough for them to experience either cycle, but someone with this genotype could probably make the noises of either dynamic pretty convincingly.
[Ao] / [Oa]
a Beta with these genotypes would produce more of hormones of one dynamic than the other. This could cause increased aggression (Ao) or a tendency toward submission (Oa) and psuedo-cycles. This is often treated using suppressants or inducers to bring the hormone level back to equilibrium.
[ao]
a Beta with this genotype barely produces dynamic hormones at all. Their scent would most likely be weak, and they probably would have a hard time convincingly making the noises of either of the other two designations. But since they don't cycle there is no reason to 'treat' this condition.
and finally we arrive at [xx]
the most common examples of someone being [xx] would be Atlanteans and Amazonians. Both of those groups broke off from humanity before the rest of the population developed the genetic markers that give a person their designation.
But humans can also have the [xx] genotype, it is just extremely rare (about 8% of the worlds population has this combination, though most of that 8% is made up of Amazonians and Atlanteans).
So with the info dump out of the way, here are some examples (using characters from d(wam)) of how dynamics are inherited.
Dick
Dicks parents were both Omegas, which did mean dick was guaranteed to be an omega, but he does have an entirely different genotype than either of his parents Mary Grayson was, [OX] while John was [Oo]. meaning dick could have been [OO], [Oo], [Ox], or [ox]. He is [OO] and im sure if you have been reading the story this will come as no surprise to you.
Wally
wally is an interesting case. Rudy West is [xx], and Mary West is [AO]. Their family functions more as a typical family unit than a pack seeing as Rudy doesnt have a dynamic a all. However, often people who are born [xx] are just lumped in as a Beta since physically there is not much of a difference between someone with no designation and a Beta. Because of this Wally could Only be an Alpha [Ax] or an omega [Ox]. As im sure you've guessed Wally has the [Ax] allele combination.
Bruce
Both Martha and Thomas wayne were Betas, [AO], and [ao] respectively. This means Bruce had a chance to be an Alpha [Aa], Omega [Oo], or Beta [Ao] [Oa]. Bruce ended up with the [Ao] combo. For any of our readers who have been wondering "whats Bruce's deal?" this might give you just a bit of context.
#d(wam)#wik(ywm)#world building#ABO#omegaverse#𓆟#fishfic#have a spent maybe too much time thinking about this? yes#but i promise theres a real actual reason for it#star and i literally went through like ten different possible systems for how this could work before settling on this one#but i think it makes the most sense & is as simple as we could make it for the part it plays in the fic#ok ok back to writing thx for reading#god y'all should see our excel doc we have...so much in there
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weekly fic recs | 47
prompt: self-insert/OC-insert
fandoms: bnha, knb, mdzs, naruto, svsss
bnha
Causality of Temporal Paradox by MirrorDaltokki
"A tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use."
- Washington Irving
In which you are very clearly not having a good time slipping through time and space.
Lucky for you, there's at least one constant. Hawks seems to not mind you showing up in his bed over and over again throughout his life.
But hey, look at the upside. There's pro-heroes, so that's kind of cool.
Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv
Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.
Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.
Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.
On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.
knb
Horseshoes and Hand Grenades by Vroomian
You don't care about sports, and you didn't ask for this nonsense.
so miracles happen after all. by リリス - riris (arurun)
Paralyzed from the neck down, a former basketball star wished only for one thing.
And like a miracle, he wakes up in a new world, in a new body-- and there's only one thing he wants to do now, so he starts running.
"Wait, is this that basketball anime?"
mdzs
by foot it's a slow climb by Vroomian
(graphic depictions of violence) (major character death)
So. Let's get this straight - I didn't set out to derail any plot. My plan was to lay low and stay away from canon. It's just...
My plans tend to fail.
Spectacularly.
i told you when i came i was a stranger by Caramelized
(mature)
A modern OC arrives in Yiling before the start of the Sunshot Campaign. She has no friends, no money, and no cultivation. She knows what's coming, but what could she possibly do about it?
***
“Well…” I looked down at my fingernails and tried not to squirm. “If there were a way to separate Wei Wuxian from Madam Yu without ruining his relationship with his siblings, I’d encourage it. Like, as an example, marriage.”
Xichen blinked. “To you?”
“No. Absolutely not. What even—?” The thought was so abhorrent I couldn’t hold it in my head. My brain spat it right back out. “To your brother.”
Xichen blinked. Again. “To Wangji?”
“Obviously?”
“This is a concern of yours?”
“I realize it’s not my business at all,” I admitted. “But you asked.”
naruto
Doing the Work by MarbleGlove
There’s more to peace than the absence of war. The work is as hard and uncertain as any Shinobi mission.
AKA: A highly self-indulgent fic in which a civilian woman helps an orphaned Sasuke and winds up saving the world.
wataru, wataru by unolvrs
(mature)
“Kirigakure didn’t need help. They needed salvation.”
No one knows anything about the Mizukage. Only that she’s kind. She likes to smile. She likes seafood like every other Mizu-born. And that there’s something inexplicably wrong with her. There’s something wrong with the Mizukage whom the Kiri-nin call a ‘god’.
—or, Wataru Wataru was never really a powerhouse, in this life or the last, but she’s resourceful. She knows cults, pyramid schemes, and corrupt politicians like the back of her hand, so of course, she becomes the Mizukage and becomes a god along the way.
svsss
exec_ep=diviega/. by MirrorDaltokki, MULmul
(mature) (major character death)
AKA: Female Protagonist Fights the System Because She Doesn't Want to Live on the Lesbian Peak Just Because She Won't Sleep With Luo Binghe and She Can Write This Piece of Trash Novel Better than The Stupid Author
#weekly fic recs#prompt#oc#self-insert#bnha fic recs#bnha#mdzs fic recs#mdzs#knb fic recs#knb#naruto fic recs#naruto#reader-insert#oc-insert#svsss fic recs#svsss
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1 & 2 for the writer ask meme!
Writer's Ask Game
1. What is something you wish you could change about your most recent fic/chapter? I think the last self-contained thing I posted to AO3 was Crimson Incarnate. I don't know if I would change anything necessarily, but one day I'd love to go back and add more to give it more of a proper ending. When I was writing it, I was writing to get towards a very specific part (which is kind of obvious when you read it). Once I reached that part, I think I honestly just kinda ran out of steam, so the way I wrapped the piece up was rushed and sloppy because I was so ready to just post it. That tends to be the problem with 90% of my fics— by the time the end goal in sight, I just get so anxious to finish because I need instant gratification, so that's one skill I'm trying to work on!
2. Share a snippet of an old wip that you never posted. OH BOY i got like 3k words into this piece but had a hard time focusing on just one thread (the hard part about louis and armand and lestat is that their dynamics are all crazy complicated so it's easy for me to get overwhelmed easily) so eventually let it go. But fun fact!! after struggling with this piece, I was actually able to come back a month later and write Crimson Incarnate, so I guess you can think of this as like a prototype :)
“This is absurd.” It’s both a chuckle and a groan as Louis squeezes his eyes shut as if it’ll somehow make him disappear.
“What’s so absurd about it?” Armand asks with a genuine crease of concern between his brows.
“What’s absurd is that we’re still talking and not…oh, what was that saying Daniel brought up the other day? Something about guts.” Lestat rakes one hand low across Louis’ belly, delicately admiring said guts, warm and slightly plumped from whatever poor fool had stumbled across his dear Louis’ path earlier this evening.
“Rearranging his guts.” Armand offers with an arch of his brow.
“I’m going to get up right now if you don’t stop.”
“Just say the word and we’ll stop, Louis.” Lestat decides to call his bluff outright, and it pays off beautifully with a soft blush beginning to blossom across Louis’ cheeks.
The problem, of course, is that Louis doesn’t want to stop. Quite the opposite, in fact. But saying that sort of thing in so many words is not something that comes naturally for him. It isn’t even about the power, though lord knows surrendering to Lestat and Armand may just be one of the most ill-conceived decisions of his life. It’s something about the humiliation of vocal admittance that doesn’t quite sit with him.
Lestat and Armand have always been good at begging, at knowing what to say and how to say it, at investing in the drama of it all and indulging in the playful fantasy of seduction. But the words feel clunky in Louis’ mouth. Forced and awkward and much too pathetic to be considered seductive in any form or fashion.
And so he keeps his mouth shut, swallows the indignities until his throat burns with the unvoiced yearning and he sits still, vulnerable, trapped between the only two souls on this earth that hold the key to his undoing.
“Let him protest, he needs to get it out of his system. Plausible deniability, and all that.” Armand smirks as he readjusts his weight in Louis’ lap, and it’s…humiliating, actually, being caught out of his little game before they’ve even really begun.
Louis moves to cover the unmistakable rush of blood pooling in his cheeks, but Armand catches his wrist, holds it just tight enough for Louis to remember the frightening strength beneath his fingertips, then gently folds it back down, pinning his hand to the mattress. Loving and merciless, all at once.
“Oh, enough with the hollow objections! You’re outnumbered, anyway. If anyone asks, you can tell them we held you down and ripped your bodice like a bunch of lustful brutes.”
Louis can feel the hearty vibrations against his back, the way Lestat’s chest puffs when he gets impatient.
He tries to grumble something like “That isn’t funny, Lestat.” But it’s hard get the words from his brain to his mouth with Lestat’s breath on his shoulder and Armand’s hand on his chest.
“If it’s the guilt troubling you," Armand draws lazy circles with his nail, traces up and down the delicate slope of Louis' collarbone. "I’m happy to provide apt punishment.”
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can you spare some Wines headcanons?
I interpret each of the Masters as symbolic of one of the ills of the Victorian Age. Fires is industrialism, Veils is political corruption, Pages is obviously censorship. Wines represents the corruption of the leisure class. Perched on its throne with all its riches and luxuries while the majority of the population go without, throwing parties while entire countries starve. It embodies every empty promise of the Gilded Age. An era that promised fortune and excess to people when they had "earned" it with no intention of ever delivering, promises that were worth nothing more than golden paint.
The real horror is never the monsters, but the 19th century. But anyway, that's enough of period-typical existential suffering! Onto more fun things!
Simply being around Wines lowers your inhibitions. You're more inclined to forget about whatever work or trouble you had and want to relax and join the party. Being near Wines especially makes you want to drink much more than you usually would. Major Dionysus vibes.
But we know the friendly appearance is all a façade. Wines, similarly to Pages, is one of the most dangerous masters because it doesn't look like one of the most dangerous. Under the "approachable" surface is ruthlessness and callousness. Wines has quite the temper that we only see the surface of in situations like "Totentanz" and "Fading to a Coda." It's very old and very patient, and its antagonist is in steep danger when it decides to act in retribution. Then again, a threat is like a promise and Wines is notoriously bad at keeping those. Yes this is an explanation for the player's plot armor. Please game I just want acknowledgement for players who dedicate themselves to ruining the Masters' entire careers at every opportunity. Like, why would Wines willingly accept a drink from my Nemesis PC at Station VIII? Lmao.
For physical appearance, we have text describing Wines as one of the bulkier masters, which makes sense given it represents plenty and indulgence. We're all entitled to have our own headcanons for fan content, especially with a text based game that gives little solid descriptions of appearances, but it does irk me a bit when people draw the Masters thin, especially Wines. Different Body Types Exist, and like, the Masters are from a cold environment, they're gonna be dense and fluffy.
Spoilers for the Exceptional Stories "Cricket, Anyone?" and "Adornment" under the cut
"Cricket, Anyone?" leads me to firmly believe that Wines used to be a Judgement before it was deposed. "A cosmic monarch." Don't know if you ever were into The Magnus Archives, but I'm still a slut for the Vast. There is just something about space that my aroace mind has always been attracted to, for lack of a better word. Imagine sitting across from a being that used to be a star. Someone who existed before your solar system. Someone who may once have forged in its heart the iron that flows through your veins and gives you life. The attention of something billions of years old, something unfathomable, focused entirely on you.
I'll pause it there before we go too deep down that rabbit hole. I'm planning to write a fic about Wines once I muster up the constitution and will be exploring these thoughts in more detail.
Finally, a headcanon that I just find funny. In "Adornment," Stones refers to itself as "the merchant prince," and in "Cricket, Anyone?" Wines refers to itself as "the merchant king." This leads me to headcanon that Wines was the Judgement that Stones was imprisoned by. Just imagine you used to be a CEO before getting caught for fraud, and now the only job you can get is for a shady publishing company, and on your first day of work you find out that one of your fellow board members used to work for you and you fired them for embezzlement. Isn't that the most hilarious situation. The Bazaar is space's most tragic circus and the Masters are its biggest of clowns.
#thanks for the ask#fallen london#wines is terrible and i love to torment it so so much#but also i'm a little bit gay for space#don't even look at me when i finally post that fic#fl spoilers#es spoilers#headcanons
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l is for learning together
summary: olivia and you indulge in something you've yet to do by virtue of your relationship being so new.
fandom: olivia dejonge | elvis 2022
pairing: olivia dejonge x gender neutral reader
rating: m. very light m, but still m.
word count: 903
warnings: masturbation ( f and gn ). brief mention of austin x olivia and the cheating comments that comes with it. talk about not being together/being in a long distance relationship.
author's note: welcome to day ten of kinktober mutual masturbation with olivia dejonge. so i really should have pushed this off to tomorrow because today has been a weird day for me, but i wanted to get it out today so here we are. this is going to basically be a jumping off point for tomorrow's blurb with phone sex. yeah, i'm. this is a fic is what this is.
"I'm not sure about this."
It's the first thought that pops up when Olivia proposes her idea to you, laying in bed, her head curled against your chest, her legs tangled with your own. Your relationship with her is- new, a simple breaking of way too many rules you have for working on a set and you've heard the whispers about her and Austin. You've heard and you know that you're playing with fire but Olivia feels so warm in your hands that you can't- you truly can't resist.
"Why? Is it- are you embarrassed?" Her gaze is questioning when she asks and there's a hint of fear in them, like she thinks she's going to hear you tell her this is a mistake and that you don't want to maybe explore a new level of intimacy.
"A- A little? Not- I know we've come together, I've seen you come but I- it's different. You'll get to see what happens when you're not there. When you're stuck on set and I'm in the apartment at night." You rub at your neck and bite your lips, unable to look Olivia in the face.
You feel her hand under your chin, tilting it upward so that you're looking at her. She is smiling softly, like she thinks if she fully smiles with teeth and shows you just how happy you make her that you'll run away. "Babe. It means you'll get to see how I look in my trailer when I think about your lips on mine and how you feel on my tongue."
A gasp slides past your lips at the image she provides and you can feel yourself becoming aroused, a shiver flying through you. "Liv. You can't say something like that without-"
She smirks. "Warning you? That's half the fun, babe. Please, can we try this? For me? For us?"
There's an undertone there, that she's reminding you that pretty soon shooting will be done and you'll be separated from each other for long periods of time while she's filming or you're doing script work or indulging in that secret passion of acting that she knows you have. That she's reminding you that pretty soon this is what you'll have, facetime calls with her on one end with her fingers or a toy in her cunt and you with your hands between your legs in a pale imitation of the thing you both want.
The sigh that leaves your mouth is so heavy that you feel it leave your system and release something within you. "Okay."
It leads you to now, with both of you naked and on opposite sides of the bed. One of Olivia's hands is between her legs, her fingers circling her clit as she watches your hand move between your legs. "I'm going to miss seeing this every day." A whisper as her other hand moves to tweak her nipple. "I won't get to wake up and just play with you."
You let out a huff of a laugh, your own free hand shakily running across your torso as you quicken your pace between your legs. "You'll just have to play with yourself thinking about me."
"I will." Her answering laugh sounds like bells to you. "Spread your legs out a little, your thigh is blocking my view, as nice as they are."
You hum, the hand that was on your torso moving to grab ahold of your thigh like Olivia has on more than one occasion. "I want you to come first. I want to see how you look like this. I wish I could- I want to touch you baby."
"After this, babe." She says, her breaths coming quicker and quicker as she pumps her fingers in and out of her cunt, as she uses her thumb to apply some form of pressure to clit. "Do you think we could come together? Think we can time it that well? I know-"
A nod is the only answer she gets back, your hand moving in just the way you need it to in your most sensitive parts. It's not Olivia's hand, and you wish it was but you've masturbated enough on your own that it'll do, your own hands against you will do. "How close-"
"Very, I'm-" She licks at her lips, biting them as if she wants to moan before you shake your head.
"Liv, I want to hear you. I need to hear you." You plead, your voice inching toward a complete whine.
Olivia's eyes shut, almost overwhelmed with the feeling of pleasure at hearing you whine, knowing that just watching her play with herself is making you sound that way. You can't help the groan that leaves you watching your girlfriend lose herself in her pleasure, it sends a rush through you. One that has your hand moving in just the right way to have you come with a choked off as you hear Olivia whimper, her eyes opening just a crack, her come coating her fingers as your own release covers yours.
You both have the same idea and manage to clean off your fingers with your own mouths before looking at each other and smiling.
For some reason you end up looking a little bashful when you find the energy to speak again, your teeth worrying at your lower lip. "You said something touching you after we finished?"
"I did. Come over here, babe."
#olivia dejonge#olivia dejonge x reader#elvis 2022#olivia dejonge smut#olivia dejonge imagine#olivia dejonge fic#olivia dejonge x you#olivia dejonge x y/n#olivia dejonge fanfic#ally's kinktober 2022
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