#<- this man has NEVER been kissed. Not even attempted. nah. nope.

[peacebringing]

The man ashes his cigarette and takes one long drag before tossing it aside, not giving an absolute damn where it would land. Look around: this entire shit show of a planet was an ashtray in case no one’s noticed!!

“Blondie,” he speaks softly, leftover smoke departing his lips as he pulls the stampede closer by the arm. Their lips were mere seconds away from being flesh on flesh, as breath meets breath. The setting was right, the mood: perfect.

Too perfect. “… Tch.” A quick, simple sound, just enough to break the wolf’s character, adding a glass shattering indifference all the same. A snicker lead to a cackle, showing no remorse to Vash’s priceless expression as this went on.

“Yeah, right. You wish, don’tcha?” Wolfwood snickered, a flirtatious wink to follow.

“Huwhah?”

Vash was recognized for a number of traits, none with a flattering lilt... a lack of grace was noted among the several, willowy legs knotting themselves in attempts to slow his own pacing... only for it to be slowed for him, in the form of a hand gripping his arm. Vash wasn't the strongest, nor the most frail, but how could one not note Nicholas D. Wolfwood's own strength? Such a confrontation was natural, having had it thrust upon him in semi-coherent oh's, and of course he is, and ow, actually. Wasn't the first time Wolfwood used action to get his point across, wouldn't be the last, but this wasn't a reprimand, a lesson taught, it was...

A thin string of smoke, breathed against his own lips. Close. Why - why this level of closeness? Was Vash's eyes fluttering due to the pungent scent of nicotine, the ow factor, or was it in competition with the flit-flit-flit of his heart? When had he last fully blinked, when had he last took a breath? -- didn't need to, but the sting of his lungs stated otherwise. Underneath a fog of smoke: a plume of oak, the sting of alcohol from hours prior. Vash had caught the scent once, detailed it in his thoughts, forgot he had: now, it had the lingering effect of familiarity. Was it normal for his thoughts to swim in such spirals?

Vash was no stranger to drunkenness, but this was of a separate category.

“Wolfwood.”

Not an inquiry: no matter the reasoning, the sensation this moment, this fleeting passage of time, held was stitched into his memory. The shadow of bags beneath his moonlight gaze, the crinkle in the corner of his eye - the chapped piece of skin on his bottom lip, the single breath Vash couldn't see, but felt. The glossy finish, a telltale of nervous biting—

... You wish, don't'cha?

Huh?

Breath punched out of his chest, Vash, veil ripped from atop his head, could at last steel his hazy eyes. A minute cock of the head, a shagging posture, his arm falling lip betwixt the pair of them...

“I wish for... what?” blink-blink-blink, glossy blown pupils and a scrunched, contemplative look. “I wish you'd give my arm back but that's about it, I think...”

What was that, actually? What had that been?

“Wait, why are you laughing—”

[elareine]

Tim realizing that since Jason has been in the pit, Jason is always cold. He cant get warm. Tim throws himself into working this out, there has to be something to warm Jason.

Hi, anon, thank you for your patience. I… took the sappy route with this. Since this got longer than 1k, I posted it on ao3, too.  

Attempt One

“How’re you doing?” 

Tim eyes the bundle in front of him critically. Jason dropped by his safe house thirty minutes ago, teeth chattering after an encounter with Mr. Freeze, and he only looked marginally better. The chattering stopped; that can be a good sign or a very bad one. 

Jason gives him a weak grin. “Alright. No danger of turning into an icicle any time soon.” 

Hmm. Tim will see that for himself. 

When he moves, Jason lifts a hand in protest. “Hey, no—“ 

Tim completely ignores Jason’s protests—he’d feel worse about it if it wasn’t the only way to handle injured Bats—and sticks his hand between the isolation blanket and Jason’s neck… just to flinch back. “Holy shit!” 

“Nah, it’s—“

“It’s hypothermia, is what it is!” Whatever bullshit is coming out of Jason’s mouth, Tim is not listening. “You’re going into shock! We gotta get some extra heat in here, or maybe actually call the hospital; I’m not equipped for this—“ 

Jason’s hand closes over his mouth. Tim gives him a second to remove it, then he licks it. 

Jason just grins. “As I was trying to say: It’s always like that. My body temperature never went back to normal after daying.” 

“Nnr?” 

“Never.” Jason shrugs. He looks completely unbothered in a way that leaves Tim incensed. That’s just stupid. Did Jason just accept the fact that he’s in constant discomfort as if that’s not a thing there should be—should be—multiple solutions to, what the fuck. Tim is gonna fix this, so God help him. 

Tim is so busy coming up with 315 possible solutions that he even forgets to bite Jason’s hand for a moment. 

(Only a moment, though. “Ouch!”)

Attempt Two

“I’m not sure how you think piling more blankets on me will help me raise my core temperature.” 

“Of course it’s not.” 

Jason raises an eyebrow at the three blankets currently on top of him. “Right. Silly of me.” 

Tim rolls his eyes. Men. So ungrateful. “Your core temperature is obviously affected. That’s why I brought heating blankets.” Many, many heating blankets. Jason ends up looking somewhat like a disgruntled duck by the end. Tim has pictures to prove it. 

Thirty minutes later, Tim takes Jason’s temperature. Still way, way too low for a human. He sighs. That would’ve been too easy, huh. 

“You know,” Jason waggles his eyebrows, “there’s a rather more traditional way of warming up under the blanket.” 

Tim swats his head. “Keep it in your pants.” 

“Even if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to tell under all these blankets,” Jason tells him mournfully. 

Tim decides that retreat is the better part of valor. For today. Just until he can stop imagining what Jason could do to… warm up.

Attempt Three

“A hot bath.” 

“A hot bath.” 

“…you think I haven’t tried that?” 

No. No, actually Tim doesn’t, and his expression must adequately convey that cause Jason throws his hands up. “Okay, no, I haven’t, not really. My place isn’t that fancy.” 

“It certainly doesn’t have this tub. Now shoo, get out of these clothes.” 

“Why, darlin’, you only ever had to ask.” Without ceremony, Jason pulls off his shirt, then begins working on his belt. “Alright, tell me: What makes this tub special?” 

“From observation, I conclude that your resistance to high temperatures has also increased,” Tim begins in an excellent mad scientist voice, just to drop it right after. “Or you wouldn’t be able to wear that fucking jacket in summer. So I engineered a tub that will slowly heat up to a temperature just above 50 degrees Celsius.” 

“I sure hope so,” Jason grumbles as he climbs in, unabashed in his nudity, “cause right now it’s really fucking cold, babybird.” 

Funny cause Tim thinks it’s definitely getting hot in here. 

Hoping his face doesn’t heat up—haha—, he looks down at his phone and activates the heat settings on the tub. “At least,” he says thoughtfully, “we don’t have to worry about accidentally causing a heart infarct or anything like with normal freezing victims. I think.” 

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

“We’ll take it slow, anyway.” 

Almost two hours later, Jason’s skin is red and wrinkled and covered in glitter from Tim’s bath bomb. He’s still cold to the touch. 

Attempt Four

“Tea? Really?” 

“You like tea.” Jason has been hanging around Tim’s place often enough that the younger man knows. (If there’s a corner of the top shelf just dedicated to Jason’s favorite blends, well, they don’t talk about it.) “And anyway, this tea is special.” 

Jason put down the cup. “Tim.” 

“Yes?” 

“Tell me you didn’t get this from Ivy.” 

“I didn’t get this from Ivy,” Tim recites just a little too dutifully. Truthfully, he hasn’t—it’s of his own creation in the lab—but seeing Jason squirm is just too funny. 

“The things I do for you, babybird,” Jason sighs and exes about half of it. When nothing obviously terrible happens, he drinks the rest in small, careful sips. 

“Nothing?” 

“A hint of chamomile—I get that one, soothing—and… bergamot?” 

“Yeah, that’s your favorite, right?” Tim’s taking down notes and is only half-listening. “How do you feel? Any warmer?” 

When Jason doesn’t reply right away, Tim does look up. “Jay?” 

The older man has a slight smile on his face. “A little warmer, yes.” 

Tim brightens and jumps up. Jason lets him stick the thermometer under his tongue without any objection. Tim is a little disheartened when it climbs up to 33°C and stays there, again, though he tries to stay focused on the positives: “I guess it’s a start, though. After all, the perception of warmth is just as or more important than the objective temperature.” 

“Uhuh.” 

“Also, you didn’t turn green, so that’s good.” 

“Tim!” 

Attempt Five

“Okay, if this doesn’t work, I don’t even know anymore.” 

“Please tell me you’re not hooking me up to electrodes.” 

“Sorry, that’s too dumb a lie even for me.” Tim is about to demand that Jason takes his shirt off again—an unfortunate side effect of this type of experiment, really, how terrible that he has to ogle those pecs and abs again—when he pauses. “Wait. Is that… a bad thing?” 

Which is terrible phrasing for Is this something that was used to torture you? but Jason seems to get it cause he shakes his head. “Nah, just didn’t know you’re into that.” 

“I’m not!” Tim isn’t. 

…at least, he doesn’t think he is? There’s certainly something to be said about the inherent homoeroticism of applying gel to another man’s skin and attaching electrodes. He’s so caught up in the entire thing—and the way Jason’s muscles jump and twitch when Tim applies his own brand of stimulant ray to them—that he doesn’t notice how quiet Jason is, too. 

However, in the end, the thermometer still reads 33°C. 

“Fuck,” Tim mutters. “I really thought I had it.” 

“Guess I can put my shirt back on.” Jason makes no move to do so. 

“Yeah.” Tim is looking at his notes again, trying to figure out where he went wrong. His joking words at the beginning aside, there are still options, avenues for him to pursue. It’s just that these are the most promising ones, and Tim can’t bear the thought of failure. The idea that Jason will just—will just have to live like this, forever cold and disconnected—

He lifts his face when he hears Jason putting his shoes and jacket on. “You don’t have to leave. I can still—“ 

“Nah, it’s fine. There’re only so many sex jokes I can make before even I can take the hint,” Jason sighs. “Thanks, though, Tim. I really appreciate the effort.” He turns toward the window. 

It takes 4.7 seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up with that, and then another 2.4 for it to convince his body to move. 

“Jay! Wait!” 

The Solution

The afternoon sun throws golden rays into their bedroom. Tim can feel her rays tickle his face, his eyes, so he turns further into the embrace that’s been offered to him all night. Jason doesn’t wake up, just snuffles out a slight snore and pulls Tim half on top of him as if his boyfriend is some sort of overgrown teddy bear. 

Tim snuggles into the crook of Jason’s neck contently. In his opinion, there’s no better place to be: His lover underneath him, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, warm and alive and here for Tim… 

Wait. 

Warm. Jason’s warm. 

Tim scrambles up and frantically reaches for his bedside, where the damned thermometer has a place of pride after the last time he got sick, and Jason returned the favor by taking his temperature every five minutes. 

“Babybird…?” Jason’s voice is rough with sleep. Tim feels a little bad about waking him up, but: !!!! 

The thermometer climbs. And climbs. When it stops, it reads 36°C degrees. 

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Tim whispers, awed. 

“Nope,” Jason agrees amiably. “You’ll figure it out, though. Can I have some more snuggles first?” 

On the one hand, Tim is dying to look this up in the literature and maybe talk to someone who knows Lazarus Pits better. This doesn’t make sense scientifically, so there has to be some magic involved, right? Perhaps the pits are more into metaphors than they thought, or—there are so many possibilities, and Tim can’t wait to explore them. 

On the other hand… Jason’s looking soft and warm, opening his arms for Tim, and he’s smiling. It’s no contest, really. 

Tim presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek and sinks back into his embrace, scientific pursuits forgotten. 

[alpacaparkaseok]

Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall? 

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

           It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

           “Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

           Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

           “Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

           “You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

           The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

           “Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

           “I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

           “Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

           He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

           We have mailboxes??

           “Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

           “I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

           You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

           It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

          “Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

           That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

           You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

           “What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

           Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

           You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

           Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

           You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

           “I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

           You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

           “Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!”            “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

           “Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

           “To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

           “Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

           You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

           “I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

           “Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

           He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

           “No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

           Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

           “Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

           Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

           Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

[superbadassnatural]

The One With The Morning After

Summary: Y/N has to deal with the aftermath of a night filled with booze, sex, and questionable choices. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,143 Warnings: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, a bit of smut, hangover A/N: this was written for @smol-and-grumpy​’s awesome challenge “SuperFriends Tittle Challenge”. The prompt is the title of this story of course. Hope you all enjoy it!

(x)

Few rays of sunshine struggled to get past the blinds and illuminate the room. As the warm light ghosted over your face, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked a few times before taking in your surroundings. A thin white sheet covered your body. You lifted it only to notice you were naked. You felt disgusting as if you had sweated the whole night.

Turning on your back, you noticed the guy you spent the night with was still there. He was on his side, his back to you. The sheet only covered his lower half. Fresh scratches covered his back. You didn’t have to put your tired mind through much thinking to know you were the one who caused them. As much as you wanted to see his face to at least have an idea if you had picked it right, you didn’t want to wake him and deal with the whole morning after thing. One night stands are good. You have fun and most of the time you get off. The problem was the morning after itself. Unlike most people, you thank god when you wake up and the guy has already left or when you wake up first and leave without explanation. The whole ‘it was good, I had fun’ was annoying. Every time you had to put an extra effort to not roll your eyes.

It was frustrating, to say the least when you didn’t even remember the guy’s appearance. You could only hope a glimpse of his face would come back to you. You took one last glance at him before getting up. You nearly choked when your eyes landed on the small scar on the side of his hip. There was no way in hell you wouldn’t recognize that scar. You were the one who stitched him up back then. Clothes formed a trail on the floor, you scooped them up and dressed as fast and as quiet as you could. Your heart was almost leaping out of your chest by the time you walked out of the room.

Outside of the motel, you allowed your breath to even and your heart to calm down in your chest. His car was parked only a few feet away. You ignored the shining impala and made your way back to the bunker. It wasn’t the first time you came to this particular motel so you knew the way.

It was early. Dean never wakes up before noon after a night at a bar. You had enough time to get home, shower, and take a nap before he came back. You could only hope he’d remember as much as you did. Nothing. The thought of ruining your friendship with Dean had your palms sweating. It was undeniable that you felt something for him. Those feelings were buried way too deep and throughout the years you learned how to live with them. He didn’t make it any easier on you though. Dean was constantly flirting with you. In the beginning, it was tough to be around him. Dean’s a flirt. Every now and then he’d give you his signature smirk and wink followed by a flirty comment. Although it caused a weak in your knees, you figured it was best to keep your feelings to yourself rather than risk losing him.

Arriving at the bunker, you made your way to the war room, hoping to find one of your best friends. There was no sign of Sam. You figured he’d either be on his morning run or making breakfast. It wasn’t even eight yet, so he must be home.

“Hey you,” you smiled, leaning on the fridge.

“Hey,” he greeted as he finished making his sandwich. “I didn’t expect you to be back already.”

“Yeah, I know. Just missed my bed I guess.”

“Dean’s not home yet. Did you hear from him?”

“Nope,” you were grateful he had his back to you and wouldn’t catch you lying.

“Do you want me to make you something?” He turned to you, hazel eyes widening as they roamed over your entire body. “You okay? You've been crying?”

“What? No, of course not. Why?”

“Your mascara or eyeliner, I don’t know, is a little smudged.”

“Oh,” your fingertips touched the skin under your eyes softly. You left in such a hurry that you didn’t even look in the mirror. “Guess that’s what happens when you sleep with makeup on,” you shrugged. “Alright, I’m gonna take a shower then take a nap. Trust me, I need it.”

“Okay, you do you.”

You headed straight to the shower. The need to wash off the guilt and fear of ruining your thirteen-year friendship grew stronger by the second. You could only hope those feelings would be dispelled down the drain along with the stink of alcohol and sex. The water felt good on your tired body. You didn’t take long in there though. Every cell in your body claimed to be in bed again. You needed at least two more hours of sleep to survive the rest of the day. That and being away from Dean for twenty-four hours both physically and psychologically. Mission impossible.

Your eyes fell closed the second your body hit the soft mattress. Memory foam hugged your limbs, lulling you to sleep.

The headboard banged against the wall. Your mind was in a haze of alcohol and pleasure. Dean’s groans sounded distant. His hands were all over your body. His thrusts were erratic as he searched for the final push. You arched against him, breasts pressed to his firm chest. He whispered soft praises against your skin as a wave of pleasure consumed you.

Your eyes shot open as you sat in bed abruptly. Beads of sweat covered your forehead. Pulling the covers off, you got up, making a beeline to the bathroom. You washed your face in an attempt to get rid of the images of last night. It was in vain. The mirror only reflected how screwed you were. As if the images and the sounds running wild in your mind weren’t enough, your cleavage was covered in hickeys. You closed your eyes and suddenly you were back in that cheap motel room.

Dean’s lips kissed and sucked every patch of skin they could. Your hand shot to his head, fingers tugging at his hair. He groaned against the curve of your neck. His lips descended to your collarbone. Dean marked your skin as his hand squeezed your breast softly. He drunkenly mumbled “mine” against you.

Shaking the memory away, you turned off the tap and headed to your room. It was early which meant you had high chances of not seeing Dean. You just needed to eat and take a pill for the pounding headache. Then you could come back and hide in your room for the rest of the day. Pulling on a hoodie, you made your way to the kitchen.

“You’re awake,” Sam greeted. “Thought you were gonna sleep for the rest of the morning.”

“Yeah, me too,” you sighed, turning on the coffee maker before grabbing some bacon in the fridge for you to cook. “I wanted to, but I had a bad dream.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

“I found us a case,” he announced as you sat in front of him with a plate and a mug in your hands. “Omaha, Nebraska. I think it’s a spirit. A quick salt and burn will do it.”

“Good. When do we leave?” you asked, munching the crispy bacon.

“Tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

“And, uh, do you mind if it’s just you and Dean on this one? Eileen and I have a date tomorrow and uh-“

“Yeah, s-sure. I don’t mind going alone with Dean. I mean… Why would I mind? It’s not like we haven’t been on hunts just the two of us.”

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“Sure,” you tried to keep your voice as normal as you could, but failed miserably. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don���t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the one acting weird.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “I need to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone. Last night I didn’t come home because I was with Dean. After you left the bar, we had a few more drinks. A lot more. And we slept together.”

“Finally,” he breathed out and you gasped at his reaction. “I just don’t understand why you guys went to a motel instead of coming home.”

“The motel was closer and we were kinda in a hurry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said as you finished your breakfast.

“Why didn’t he come home with you?”

“I panicked when I saw him sleeping next to me. I practically ran out of the room. I think he won’t remember a thing. At least I hope he doesn’t.”

“Why? You’ve known each other for thirteen years. You have feelings for each other for at least ten. I’m surprised it took this long for something to happen.”

“You don’t understand, Sam,” you shook your head. “I can’t ruin my friendship with him. I can’t risk that.”

“Of course you can. You’re just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Dean asked as he walked into the room. You nearly gasped. He shouldn’t be back already.

Dean was sporting a hickey on the right side of his neck. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of it.

“I’m afraid of spiders and I can’t kill them,” you said fast before Sam could say anything.

Dean only hummed, opening the fridge and grabbing a pot with overdue food. He put some in his mouth but spat most of it, grimacing. A chuckle left your lips at the scene.

“What you got?” he mumbled, turning on the coffee machine.

“Salt and burn. Omaha, Nebraska. Should be easy for you and Y/N.”

“You not tagging along?”

“Nah, got a date with Eileen,” Sam smiled.

“You’re finally getting some,” the older Winchester teased. “Y/N and I can cover it. We are a great team, right sweetheart?”

He gave you a wink. You wondered if he remembered anything of your activities the previous night.

“Right,” you clicked your tongue.

Dean grabbed his coffee and sat beside you. He stank of alcohol and sex. He should’ve gone straight to the shower but he didn’t. He was still in the same clothes as last night for crying out loud.

“Dude, you smell terrible,” Sam grimaced.

“That, Sammy, is the smell of a man who had a crazy night of hot sex. You should try it sometime.”

Fuck, he remembers, you cursed.

“You’re disgusting.”

“No, I’m not. It’s a shame I had what was probably the best night of my life and I don’t remember shit. Not even her face. She left without a note. She could at least have left her phone number somewhere. But she did leave this bad boy here,” he pointed to the purple mark in his neck.

You could only hope neither of them would notice your flaming cheeks. He was so close. You were afraid he’d take one look at your face and all the memories would come back to him. You were afraid he’d still be able to smell his scent ingrained in your skin.

“I do remember some things though. Hmmm, some really good things,” Dean nearly moaned as he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. Sam quickly glanced at you, hazel eyes wide before staring back at his brother. “Whoever she was she surely knew what she was doing to me. Her body was trapped under mine as if she belonged there. Her hands all over my body, exploring it. Oh, and her skin felt so good under my touch. That I remember damn well.”

You fought hard to repress a moan. The words rolled out his tongue in a sensual song. Your thighs clenched unwittingly. Though you were as much aroused as you were embarrassed. He was saying all that in front of his brother after all. Sam didn’t want to know anything about Dean’s activities, but the look in his eyes told you he was having fun seeing you suffer.

“And she smelled good too. So fucking good. I swear that if I close my eyes, I can feel her touch. I can even hear her soft moans. What wouldn’t I give just to know her name.”

“Maybe you should try asking the bartender if he remembers her face or even her name,” Sam suggested and you kicked his foot under the table. “I’m sure he might remember something.”

“She felt absolutely perfect,” Dean completely ignored his brother. “The way her fingers tugged at my hair, making it hurt just a little. Then her legs wrapped around me and… fuck,” he growled. “That was mind-blowing. She clenched around me so tight-”

“Dude, too much information. You should keep that to yourself,” Sam interrupted his brother while you prayed neither of them had listened to the small groan that left your lips.

“All I’m saying is she was too fucking hot. I wished she could’ve had the decency of leaving me her number,” he sighed. “If you guys think this hickey is the only thing she left for me, you’re wrong. She might not have left a note, but she did leave some real sexy marks all over me. Hmm, I love it when they mark me up. So damn hot.”

“Dude-“

“And if I concentrate hard enough I can still taste her in my tongue,” Dean smirked.

“That’s enough, man. I’m gonna have nightmares for the rest of my life.”

Dean chuckled at his brother’s reaction and took one last gulp of his now lukewarm coffee.

“Excuse me, but I, uh, I’m gonna take a nap. I’m tired,” you hurriedly stood from your seat. “I’ll catch with you guys later.”

As you disappeared in the hall, Dean’s grin got even wider as he shook his head. Sam scoffed, realization dawned on him.

“You remember, don’t you?” Sam asked his brother, a smile on his lips.

“Every single detail,” Dean nodded with a smirk.

“Dude, you aren’t worth a penny.”

“What can I say? I love seeing her squirm.”

“You should go after her.”

“I am,” Dean said. “I’m just gonna give her some time to pull herself together.”

Sam nodded. Silence fell between the brothers. Each of them lost in their own world. Dean tried to come up with a way to approach you without making it weird. Sam tried to erase the images his brother put in his mind. The younger Winchester was sure he threw up in his mouth a little. Dean had given him a share of traumas concerning sex when they were teenagers and now this?

Dean got up from his seat and before he headed to your bedroom, he placed his mug on the dishwasher. He was about to leave the kitchen but stopped and glanced at his brother.

“You were the only one who didn’t score last night, Samuel,” he teased and Sam rolled his eyes.

Three soft knocks on the door startled you, dragging you out of your trance. Mumbling a “c’mon in”, you straightened yourself at the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” Dean smiled, peeking his head through the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, a thumping beat of your heart in your chest.

Dean made his way to your bed and sat just a few inches from you. His thigh brushing against yours.

“How’re you feeling?” He glanced at you but your eyes were fixated on the closed door.

“Really tired. You?”

“Exhausted. Don’t know if I should take a shower or a nap.”

“I think you need both,” you smiled as a chuckle reverberated in his throat.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he clicked his tongue, green eyes falling in his hands as he rubbed them together. “You know, I must confess that you did rock my world last night.”

“You remember?” You stared at him wide eyed only to meet a crooked grin on his lips. “Of course you do,” groaning, you buried your face in your hands.

“How could I ever forget?”

“We had a lot of drinks. A whole lot.”

“Yeah, guess I just needed to get my ass drunk to finally go after something I wanted.”

“Don’t do this, Dean,” you pleaded, staring into his forest green eyes.

“I thought last night meant something, you know? I thought it would change things between us for the best. I couldn’t believe I was the only one feeling something. Not with the way we look at each other and the constant flirting and the way we hold each other. Now imagine my disappointment when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Dean, I-“

“I thought you were gonna be there. I thought we were gonna talk and figure things out between us, but you didn’t even give me a chance. It felt as if you regretted it, as if what happened between us was a mistake,” his voice was low, barely upon a whisper.

“No, Dean, I don’t regret it,” you shook your head. “It wasn’t a mistake but we shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why? Why shouldn't we have done it? Give me one good reason why.”

“Because we are friends and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“We were never friends, Y/N. I feel something for you from day one. And I know you feel something for me too. Now you either-“

You captured his plump lips in yours. His eyes widened and it took him a second before kissing you back. His hand cupped your face, thumb caressing your cheek. The gentle press of his lips almost made your heart leap out of your chest. He pulled away a little too soon for your liking. Dean placed a small peck to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“Now I either what?” You giggled, opening your eyes and finding his still closed.

“I don’t know,” Dean chuckled. “Guess this changes things, right?”

“Mmhmm,” your hands were on each side of his neck as you pecked his lips.

“Good.”

“I hate to tell you but you need a shower.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said sheepishly, his hands were on your waist as he moved you to straddle his lips. “But I think you should come with me. You know, that whole save water, shower together thing.”

“Hmmm, I’ve kinda already showered.”

“Do it again. I promise you won’t regret it,” he smirked.

“I thought you said you hated shower sex. You said it was too complicated.”

“I don’t hate it. It is complicated though, but I’m sure we can work things out,” he grinned, standing up with you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “‘Sides, you ought to see all the damage you caused last night.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Winchester.”

I’d love to know what you think of this one!! Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Note that if your name is crossed, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :(

Forevers: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore

Dean Sweethearts: @maya-craziness​ @akshi8278​ @herfalsegod​ @witch-of-letters​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​

[bruh-haikyuu]

@arcangel-wings REQUESTED: Heya! I’m new to your blog and I really like your writing! Can I request Tenma Udai with an s/o who’s a baker while he’s in hs? So like he’s a delinquent and she’s a sweetheart who’s always giving people the stuff she bakes? Everyone thinks it’s weird but they fit together kinda thing 🥺?

A/N: Thanks for requesting!! This is über cute. Fem!Reader as alluded in the request^^

kilig. | udai tenma

word count: 2155

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) the rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic

“Chocolate is the ingredient for love~!” you say after pouring what seems to be an entire bucketful of chocolate chips into your bowl.

Your friend Saeko has seen just about enough of your nonsensical chatter about baking, your boyfriend and your abundant love for both. Already exhausted from a recent scolding by the vice-principal, she decides that it’s better off to smile and nod rather than try to come up with a snarky remark for your innocent mania.

“T-That’s a lot of chocolate,” she blurts out. When she picks up her spatula from the bowl, the girl grumbles at the sight of a liquidy trail drizzling down the utensil. “Ahh geez, it’s not supposed to be like this, isn’t it? Katagiri-sensei’s going to fail me again...”

You smile and hand her a bowl of flour. “Don’t worry, Saeko-chan. Just add a bit more flour and you’re good to go! You can never go wrong with cookies.”

The halo above your head is nearly visible. Saeko swears she can even hear angels singing to her in the background as you mix away on your fragrant bowl of dough. You don’t even seem real—from your angelic grin down to your overwhelmingly flowery aura. It’s tough enough to imagine that you’d ever talk to her of all people, but to imagine you’d go for a guy who’s just as much of a thug...

Unthinkable! Saeko shakes her head. She’d thought you’d pulled a joke on her the first time you announced that you were dating... him. Udai Tenma, star of the Boys’ Volleyball Club, a red-hot beacon of undomesticated temper.

She’d always known you liked him—though which part of him you liked is somewhat still a mystery to her—and as much as Saeko wanted to protect you from those ruffians, that absolutely infatuated look in your eyes was too much to bear. And eventually, she succumbed to your incessant ambitions of high school romance.

“You’re a saint, dude,” she sighs longingly. “I don’t get how you’re still dating that guy. I’m not really one to say anything about this, but don’t you think Udai’s kind of a jerk with the way he treats you?”

You chuckle, like a sweet grandmother about to tell a nostalgic tale to her grandchildren.

“I suppose you can say that Tenma-kun is a bit shy. He likes to act tough and mighty when he’s around people, but he’s actually just a normal boyfriend with a very sweet tooth and a penchant for manga.”

Saeko scowls. “Normal’s normal, but you have to at least let him know that you have your limits too. I really can’t stand leaving the two of you alone, w-what if Udai breaks your heart, or worse—”

“Tanaka-san. If you have time for chatter back there, then surely, you’re finished with your cookies?” at the sound of the grouchy Home Economics teacher at the front of the class, Saeko quickly returns to her bowl in a sorry attempt to look busy.

Deciding to humor her interest, you lean towards her and whisper lowly. “I’ll be fine, Saeko-chan. He may not look like it, but Tenma-kun’s actually very cute.”

In her mind, it’s much easier to simply handcuff herself to you so that you’re under her watch at all times possible. But your gaze is nothing short of genuine—you really love this guy, and the fact that you’re still with him, assures Saeko even just a tiny bit that he might not be so bad after all... with you at least.

You’re already storming away in your little world of baking. It amuses your best friend whenever you’re off making your personal masterpieces (“‘Masterpiece’ is absolutely right!” she’d say while stuffing her mouth full of your mini tarts). Each and every one of your creations are whipped up with the utmost amount of love and care, and for just the right reasons, everyone’s been pestering you to set up a bakery after high school. Your regular patrons just happen to be the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club—with the addition of the lively Coach Ukai who is rather fond of how much filling you put into your red bean buns.

As regular as regular can be, you’ve found yourself visiting the Volleyball Club clubroom after school every Wednesday to hand out your treats to not only your aloof boyfriend, but also to his friends, his coach and the prostrated manager who direfully needs a pick-me-up. And suddenly, you’re ‘Karasuno’s Cookie Goddess’.

“Ah, you’re making another batch, Y/N?” Saeko perks up when you split your dough in half.

“Yep!” you giggle, essentially a high school student drowning in love. “I want to make something special for Tenma-kun today.”

“... What’s the occasion? Is it his birthday or something?”

You shrug, face absolutely alight. “Nope, I just want to give him a surprise~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tenma isn’t exactly unapproachable. It’s just that people tend to avoid him at all costs. Perhaps you were just bold... or remarkably stupid, but if you hadn’t addressed him that day, life would’ve probably been drabber.

Your parents and your friends (with emphasis towards your overprotective Saeko-chan) had shown their unfiltered concern when the news of your relationship circulated like wildfire. What was the analogy they used, again?

“You’re like a rabid bridge troll and a rabbit! It doesn’t work!”  You could only laugh at their valiant efforts of a correlation... if they were really trying to make one. But after a few more reassuring pushes and awkward family dinners, they’ve come to be more lenient about your little ‘liaison’.

But you never feel like you have to worry when Tenma is around. In fact, when Tenma is around, you feel calm—even when he’s spouting off curses to a taller rival.

There’s a warmth unlike any other when he holds or kisses you. And though you’d have to drive him through hell and waters to say it out loud, you already know that every action he does for you is out of love. Words are material, it’s the action that counts, right?

“Sorry for the intrusion~!” you call out into the open doors of the Boys’ Volleyball Club’s space.

A flash of obnoxious yellow hair flashes before your eyes and suddenly, an imposingly tall  figure appears in front of you out of nowhere. “Cookie Goddess!”

“Good afternoon, Yukimura-kun,” you smile. “Is there only you right now?”

“I’m here too, Y/N-chan,” the lax-faced captain Tokito emerges from the room in the midst of zipping up his jacket. His eyes flicker towards the packages in your hands and a smile cracks on his face. “Ooh, chocolate chip cookies today~”

You quickly raise the fragrant bags of treats into their view, bringing in the remaining swamp of boys from the clubroom. Suddenly, the common hallway is blocked by an influx of starving teenagers who are rampaging on about your existence.

“So good...” Yukimura murmurs dreamily, mouth full of chocolate. “Man, anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife if you were to cook them these everyday.”

A brazen first-year with frosted tips elbow him and sighs. “Too bad you’re taken, huh, Y/N-chan-senpai? If it were me instead of him, I’d always make it a point that ‘Heeey... guess what my girlfriend made for me today~ Isn’t she the best—”

“Oi, brat. Whose girlfriend do you think you’re talking about?”

The gangle of boys freeze up simultaneously at the grouchy voice behind you (aside from Tokito, who’s yawning at the whole ordeal). Whipping around to the dark aura boring holes into your back, you immediately light up at Tenma’s presence.

“Tenma-kun~!” you launch at him with your arms wide open. You’re ready for some sort of swerve from him, so you make sure you protect his bag of cookies with your arm... You’ve learned this counter-attack the hard way, of course.

But what you don’t expect is that your boyfriend makes no move to avoid you at all.

“H-hey! Don’t just lunge at me like that, you idiot! What if you fell down and knocked your head open?” Ah, at least the embarrassed comment is there.

You can only smile at him kindly. From the edge of your eyes, you swear that you can see a light blush dusting his face as your boyfriend gains newfound interest in your shoes.

“Come with me for a while,” he finally grumbles, effectively breaking the silence between the both of you. Grabbing your hand, Tenma leads you down the little aluminium staircase, eliciting small grates from the steps below you and a mass of curious whispers from the group you’d just left behind.

“Hey, Udai-kun~” Tokito calls out, a lilt of roguery in his tone, “Make sure to get back in time for practice, okay? And keep Y/N-chan in one piece, won’t you? We can’t get another Cookie Goddess if you don’t.”

When he turns into a secluded corner away from the prying eyes of his teammates, you can hear him audibly huff and mutter something under his breath. As silence lingers between you, you nearly forget about the reason why you came to visit.

“I made some cookies for you, Tenma-kun,” you say to him, urging the neatly wrapped bundle into his hands. “I hope you like it.”

You can clearly see the hesitation in his eyes when he takes it in his hands. You can probably guess why.

(“Y/N, your skills with a knife are scary, dude,” Saeko grimaced as she watched you trail over the dough with the gleaming blade of your paring knife.

“Aaand... done!” you proudly wiped the sweat off your forehead. It would’ve been more helpful with a cookie cutter around, but you figured that it would’ve been more heartfelt otherwise.

‘Heartfelt’, you pondered on the word for a moment. Would this be too heartfelt for such a rag-tag person like Tenma? It would probably be better to go for something simpler, just like the other days...

Nah. You shook your head as you chucked the tray of heart-shaped cookies into the oven.)

You’re hoping for a shocked response from him, but Tenma only grumbles meekly. You brace yourself for another scolding for acting too chummy with him, or being too affectionate, or—

“You shouldn’t get too close with other guys.”

Wait.

Tenma crosses his arms, the curls of his hair falling gently over his forehead. His pink cheeks darken into a soft maroon. “If they found out you’re giving me this sort of special treatment, they’ll be all over you the next day, asking for it too... I don’t like it.”

The laugh that rises in your throat threatens to burst. What is this, you think. Your stomach hurt from the mere image of this innocent “delinquent” professing his jealousy for you. If he was like this all the time, wouldn’t that be an interesting change... Aah, your boyfriend really is cute, isn’t he?

A giggle escapes you and you watch him jolt in chagrin. “Tenma-kun, you’re so red.”

“I’m not!” he yells rather briskly, then shoots back at you. “You can’t say I’m red when you were all burning up as you were giving me these heart-shaped cookies.”

Touché. “I’m glad you like them, Tenma-kun.”

His gaze visibly softens up as you give him an angelic smile. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

At times like this, you really do see the boy who’d shyly confessed to you under the shade of the summer ginko tree. It wasn’t anything of a distant memory, it was just that Tenma’s usual demeanour and your unrelenting tolerance hindered the both of you from being completely outward with one another. Maybe something like this isn’t so bad after all.

“I-I have to go back to practice. You can go home by yourself, right?” your boyfriend clears his throat, urging you to leave.

Though you wished the moment would last a little longer, you know there are other countless shared opportunities with him. “Mm-hm! You do your best in practice, okay?”

He ruffles your hair and chuckles endearingly.

“Atta girl. Now go home before Tokito catches me getting all touchy-feely with you.”

Bidding him goodbye, you sullenly trudge away from your boyfriend (and his friends waving back at you from the balcony). Then the idea strikes you.

Special cookies ought to have a special flair to them, no?

Cupping your hands around your mouth like a megaphone, you shout, loud enough for his teammates to hear. “I love you, Tenma-kun~!”

And the crowd goes wild.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

From: Tenma-kun ♡

Subject: Untitled

(15:58) Now Tokito’s all over me thanks to you, making me do extra diving drills. You better make more of those cookies as compensation, idiot. Be prepared for it.

(15:58) Btw, don’t forget to look both ways when you cross the street on the way home. If you get into an accident, you won’t be able to apologize to me properly.

(15:58) ... Hey.

(16:00) I love you too.

[cherishingstydia]

5+1 - Five times Buddie tried to confess their newfound romantic feelings to each other and the one time someone else did it for them?

thank you for the idea! Hope you like it.

1.

Buck took a deep breath as he looked at Eddie and Chris. These nights always cemented the fact that he’s not only in love with Eddie, but this is what he wants everyday for the rest of his life just the three of them, and maybe some more kids at some point.

Eddie is his perfect match. He really never expected to find someone and really never thought it would be a man, but he doesn’t care he just wants Eddie. Tonight’s the night, once Chris goes to bed he’s gonna rip off the bandaid...tell Eddie the truth.

Buck waited in anticipation as Eddie finished tucking Chris in. His heart was pounding, his breathing was erratic and he couldn’t sit still.

“You ok?” Eddie smiled

“Uh yeah great.”

“You sure.”

“Of course I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Ok.” Eddie said sitting next to Buck.

“Eddie I love...I love game night, but I’m not gonna make it this week...I have plans.” Buck lied, and it was a terrible lie because he definitely did not have plans.

“A date?” Eddie asked and Bucks sure Eddie looks upset.

“No, no date for me. I just I have some laundry and cleaning I need to do and that’s the only free time I’ll have this week.” Buck said. Another lie. The truth has to be easier than this.

“We can do it at your place...game night I mean. Then I can help you.” Eddie said softly.

Damnit there’s no way to say no. No way to turn down Eddie and Chris time.

“You’d do that for me.”

“Buck I’d do anything for you.” Eddie said placing his hand on Bucks thigh.

“Ok. Game night at my place.”

2.

Eddie was nervous. Bucks coming over, but only Buck and him will be there. Chris is at a sleepover and most nights it’s just the three of them, which is actually how Eddie prefers it. This isn’t the first time he’s been in love. After Shannon he wasn’t sure how to move on and when he dated Ana he liked her, but something was off. He figured out later it was the skateboard incident and how she reacted vs how Buck reacted. That’s when he knew for sure Buck was the one.

“Hey.” Eddie smiled as Buck walked through the door.

“Hey.” Buck yawned.

“Sorry I’m so boring.” Eddie teased.

“Nah. Just tired Albert and Veronica are...really loud.”

“Why don’t they just stay at her place.”

“Oh they do.” Buck rolled his eyes.

Eddie sat next to Buck making sure he wasn’t too close, even though they’re usually so close their bodies are pressed together, but he knows if he’s too close he’ll lose his nerve.

“I uh need to use the bathroom.” Eddie said excusing himself.

You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Just say it “Buck I wanna be more than friends.” No not that “Buck I like you.” Well it’s more than like but the L word might scare Buck, even though Eddie knows he loves him. “Buck you’re hot as fuck.” Nope nope nope not that one. That sounds purely sexual, and as much as Eddie is sexually attracted to Buck that’s not all there is. It’s really all the small things about Buck and his personality that drew Eddie in. Ok straight forward. “I have romantic feelings for you.” Maybe that works. No speak from the heart.

Eddie walked out of the bathroom not confident in what he’d say, but confident it’s time to tell Buck....who is passed out asleep on the couch.

“I can wake up.” Buck yawned.

“No. I’ll get you a blanket. Lay down and get some rest.”

Buck obeyed and Eddie covered him placing a small kiss on Bucks temple. Buck didn’t seem to notice, but that’s ok it’s not their time yet.

3.

Buck looked at Eddie from across the station and sighed. Why was it so difficult telling him. Ok he knows why because it could potentially ruin the best friendship he’s ever had, but most people think of their spouse as their best friend right? So maybe that’s why their friendship is unlike any other he’s ever had because they belong together.

There’s 5 hours of the shift left, but a wave of confidence hit Buck. He strutted over to Eddie who smiled.

“What’s up?” Eddie grinned.

“Can we talk?”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah I uh just need to say this.” Buck said before the bell went off.

Saved by the bell...more like blocked by the bell. Buck sighed.

“We can talk later.” Eddie nodded.

Later...later will there be any confidence left?

After returning to the station Eddie stopped Buck.

“Do you wanna continue our conversation? It seemed important.”

“Eddie I...can’t remember.” Buck hated that he said that he wanted to just blurt out “I love you” but that might scare Eddie off, and that confidence from earlier had fizzled out. Today is so not the day.

4.

Today was gonna be the day...again. Buck was coming over to make dinner. Chris had a last minute sleepover invite. Which Eddie was happy his son was so excited, and happy for some alone time with Buck, but it was scary.

Buck showed up in a tight blue shirt not only making his eyes pop but accentuating his muscles. Eddie felt guilty ogling his best friend, but when Buck looks this good it s hard not to.

“You ok?” Buck asked as he began to cook.

Eddie sat on the counter near by.

“Yeah I just. Do you ever have something you think you need to say, but you don’t know what will happen. Like it could ruin something great, but if you say it then the thing you already have could be even greater.” Eddie sighed.

“I guess I don’t know for sure, but I feel like you just go on your instincts. Do what you think is best. Trust your gut....I mean obviously You have no gut just rock hard abs, but you get it. Does that help?”

“ I think.” Eddie but his lip.

“Do you wanna talk about it? See if I can help?”

Yes. Of course we really need to talk about it.

“Uh no...it’s nothing big.” Eddie lied.

“Well I’m here anytime...really even if you ever need to call late at night to talk you can. Don’t worry if I’m asleep or not. I’ll be here...always.”

Eddie felt like his heart was doing somersaults. Buck is so perfect and caring...it’s really Bucks fault he fell in love with him. If Buck wasn’t such an amazing person, and it was just sexual attraction rather than love and sexual attraction this would a lot easier.

Ok no more hiding.

“Buck.”

“Yeah?” Buck said with a smile that melts Eddies heart.

“I-” Eddie said before Buck cut him off.

“Sorry hold that thought I don’t want the food to burn.”

Buck returned shorty with two plates piled high full of delicious food.

“Ok so what were we talking about?” Buck asked in a serious tone.

“I was just telling you how much I appreciate you cooking for me.”

“Anytime.” Buck smiled.

And another failed attempt. Bucks totally worth it. Eddie wants to tell him, but the thought of potentially messing up their friendship is what makes it so scary. Every time he tries to tell him it’s like something always gets in his way. Is this fates way of telling him not to say anything?

5.

Buck looked across the bar as he saw a woman practically throwing herself at Eddie....ok she was just talking, but still it made Buck feel an overwhelming wave of jealousy. A shitty bar isn’t really the place to confess your undying love, but now he feels like he has to.

Buck plopped on the chair next to Eddie. He knew it was weird l, but when he got there the words didn’t wanna come out. Not in a way that would make any sense.

“Hey Buck wanna help me carry the drinks back to our table?” Eddie smiled.

“Uh yeah.”

“So Uh why didn’t you keep talking to her. She’s pretty and seemed into you.”

“She’s not my type.”

“What is your type.”

“It’s not that I really have a type its  more a feeing....I can usually tell pretty quick by the way I feel around that person, and I wasn’t feeling it.”

So if Eddie can feel it quickly, but hasn’t said anything yet then maybe that means he’s not into Buck. He has no feelings for him. It’s unreciprocated and the pain in his chest is unbearable he almost feels like he’s at the point where he wants to cry, but he’s in so much pain he can’t.

“Buck you ok?” Eddie asked.

The words echoed through Bucks mind.

“I’m not feeling so well maybe I should go.”

“I’ll drive you home I haven’t had anything to drink yet.”

“Uh no I’ll call an Uber.” Buck said. He wanted Eddie to take him home, but maybe once he’s not around Eddie the pain will lessen. 

+1.

Hen and Karen were having everyone other for a game night. Although they had ulterior motives. Everyone was sick and tired of Buck and Eddies shit. They were either pining, moping, or gazing longingly at each other all the time.

Hen was very aware of both of their feelings considering they both confided in her. They both admitted how they keep trying to tell each other, but something kept holding them back. She wanted to say you love him he loves you now be together, but it’s not her place to be so straight forward. She tried and tried to encourage them to just be honest, but they were both too stubborn.

“Buck, Eddie can you grab the folding table out of my bedroom closet?” Hen asked earning a glare from both men.

As soon as they both entered the room hen shut the door and then pushed a chest in front of it barricading the door.

“You two need to talk...about what you keep talking to me about. The thing you both want to say. I know you know what I mean. I’ll let you out when you finally talk.” Hen said.

“Hen.” Buck groaned as he jiggled the door knob.

Eddie sat on the bed.

“Fine I’ll say it blurt it out.” Eddie let out a deep breath.

“I love you.” Buck sighed as he approached Eddie. “Like I’m in love with you. I’ve tried and tried to tell you but I can’t seem to ever get the words out.”

“Buck I’ve been trying to tell you the same thing for so long. I didn’t wanna scare you, but I love you and I can’t believe you feel it too.”

Buck practically tackled Eddie pushing him back on the bed straddling and kissing him.

Moments later Hen was knocking on the door.

“You guys good.”

“Yeah we uh talked.” Buck panted.

“Give is a few more minutes...to talk.” Eddie panted.

“Do not have sex in my room.” Hen said pushing the chest out of the way. “You’re free to come out here now.”

“Oh we aren’t gonna have sex here. When we do I wanna hear every sound I can pull from Buck. If we did it hear he might try to muffle those sounds.”

“Walking away now!” Hen said.

“Eddie should we go back to my place.” Buck whispered.

“Isn’t that rushing this a bit?”

“We don’t have to do anything I just wanna be alone with you.” Buck smiled climbing off of Eddie.

“Ok.” Eddie smiled.

When they walked out to the living room everyone applauded .

“Finally!” Maddie laughed.

“Hey uh so we’re gonna go. We kinda need to talk some more.” Eddie said.

“Thanks Hen for forcing us to admit our feelings.” Buck smiled.

“Hey I knew you both felt it you just needed a little push.” Hen smiled.

[writefightandflightclub]

Poke it (Poe Dameron x reader)

What is this? #9 of 14 prompt requests for my now semi-distant 500 follower celebration (sorry that they’re taking me an age to complete)!

Prompt / summary: “Let’s poke it with a stick” + “Do NOT poke it!” + “Let’s be honest. This isn’t the worst thing you’ve caught me doing”

(That 3rd line! I adore Pepperony and I wish I had a comprehensive list of the worst things Pepper caught Tony doing!)

Author’s note: This is just a quick one- hope it hangs together ok. The title is shitty, I’m sorry.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: mild sex references and content; references to nudity.

GIF credit: the fabulous @hupperts​ ​!

You stir awake in the interior of the cave as a precise whisper cuts through the relative darkness.

“Let’s poke it with a stick!”

Blearly eyed and still half-asleep, you try to shrug off the layers of sleep. All you can establish, at first, is that you’re surrounded by warmth. By blankets. By warm skin. Then a familiar scent wraps around you, explaining the embrace you’re held in. Poe. You’re surrounded by Poe, snoring lightly beside you.

Then, a second harsh whisper slices through the cave, and you register a flashlight beam trailing over the interior, unsure footsteps scraping along the floor.

“I’m gonna poke it.”

“Do NOT poke it, Rose! It’s probably just a rock.”

“You don’t believe that, Finn, or you wouldn’t mind me poking it. Besides, it was moving around! I heard it growl!”

Evidently, your rescue committe has arrived. “Hello?” you venture into the dimly lit cave. At that, Finn and Rose startle, seemingly colliding with one another and letting out a sharp shriek.They’re not very subtle.

Poe finally shifts awake beneath the blankets, at which point, upon observing the stirring, blanketed shape, Rose yells “AHHH! Kill it! Kill it! For kriff’s sake kill it!!”

“Don’t kill it! Rose! It’s us! It’s just us!” You exclaim, and a flashlight beam finds its way directly into your face. Groggily, you raise an arm to shield your eyes. You offer them a lopsided smile. “Major (L/N), accounted for and present.” Wait, is Finn hiding behind Rose?

Upon realising the mysterious shape is you and not some carniverous, cave-dwelling monster, Finn strides forward and you can just about make out relief washing over his features. “Poe?” he enquires, needing to know immediately that the Commander is also accounted for.

“I’m here, buddy.”, a gravelly, sleep ridden voice announces from behind you. Slinging a hand over your hips and giving you a reassuring and private squeeze beneath the blankets, Poe props himself up on his elbow and squints into the light as the beam now washes over his stubbled face and mussed, inky curls. 

“Thank kriff.” Rose starts, finally reassured and continuing the onslaught with the flashlight as she too paces towards you.

“Rose.” you warn. “Rose.”

She doesn’t heed you and, full of relief that the moving, growling shape was simply the two of you sleeping, she makes her way even closer. “What on earth happened to you two after the crash? We...” But then she comes closer than she would like. “Oh, Maker, my eyes!” she yells, the flashlight beam skimming over the underwear and clothing you have both strewn over the floor. Skimming over Poe’s shirtless form snuggled into yours.

Poe dips his head towards you while Rose swings her flashlight wildly around, providing a momentary distraction. “Oops.” he breathes, with zero genuine regret, before planting a quick kiss to the sweet spot on your neck that he learned all about lastnight. Your body hums with delight.

Finn’s beam follows the path of Rose’s next. “Maker! Are you two naked?!” Did you have...? No. Wait. I don’t even need to ask, do I? You had sex in a cave. You did. I know it.”

“Finn!” you scold, although he’s not wrong, and you tug the blanket firmly up to your armpits to avoid any unintended slips, as if you might be able to salvage some dignity after all. 

“We didn’t think anyone was coming for us, buddy. We may have got in touch with our feelings, some.” Poe defends, his voice momentarily hollowed out with the memory of exactly how stranded you’d believed you were. About the declarations which followed. “Besides, Let’s be honest, Finn. This isn’t the worst thing you’ve caught me doing. Not by far!” 

Finn sighs. “Whatever, just get dressed and meet us over by the entrance. You got your own light?”

“We got our own light.” Poe confirms.

“And (Y/N)?” Rose calls gleefully as she and Finn head out, “Hurry up, so you can tell me absolutely everything there is to know about this hook-up.”

“Rose!” Poe scolds, in a thin attempt at his Commander-ly voice.

The duo leave and Poe shields your eyes with his palm as he powers up the portable light. You swivel beneath the blanket to face him with a tentative smile, the memory of last night still fresh on your skin, on your lips, on your heart.

“Looks like we’re not going to die after all, honey.” He trails his fingertips lazily over your bare back. If you’re not mistaken, he takes a deep, steadying breath before speaking his next words. “Before we’re very unalone: any regrets about last night....?”

Your response is easy, certain. “I regret nothing.”

He can’t hold back the smile upon hearing your words, but he does make some attempt to tame it with a lip bite. He dips to press a soft, affectionate kiss to your lips and looks at you like he can’t believe his luck.

“How about you?” you ask apprehensively. “Any regrets?”

“I only regret that I didn’t have sex with you in a cave a helluva lot sooner.”

“Figures.” you nod, delivering him a warm smile and returning his kiss, momentarily letting it deepen.

“Come on then, Screamer, let’s get dressed and back to base so I can undress you again. Sound good?”

Oh oh. You hope that nickname doesn’t stick. You’d be more embarrassed, but he’d certainly seemed to enjoy how vocal you were last night.

“Yep. That’s emphatically fine by me.” You pick through the mess to find your clothes, tugging them on hurriedly and packing up the few supplies you had remaining. Once everything is gathered and you’re both decent you begin your trudge through the winding tunnels. 

“Wait a minute, though...” you pause as you pick your way out through the dark and towards the cave’s mouth. Poe’s hand is on your waist. In fact, he’s barely stopped touching you since he finally realised that you wanted him to touch you. “I gotta ask. What was the worst thing Finn’s caught you doing?”

Poe stops in his tracks for a moment, his hand still warm and reassuring on the small of your back. “I forget... D’sn’t matter though, you’re by far the best thing he’s caught me doing. Let’s dwell on that. ‘Kay?”

“Technically, he didn’t catch you doing me.” you clarify, for the record.

“A few minutes later and he would have.” Poe smirks, and his face remains mischievous as you enter the light of day. 

Rose is waiting keenly for you to emerge and greets you both with open-armed hugs and easy smiles. You both hold your arms out to Finn, expecting the same. “Nah, bro, I’ll get you later. I know where you two have been.”

You walk together towards the ship, and you allow yourself a sigh of relief. It had been touch and go there for a while. Then, before Rose can siphon you off for much needed gossip, you turn to Poe. “You’re the best thing I’ve been caught doing too, you know.”

His expression turns smug. “I could tell, sweetheart.”

“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

He ignores your comment and continues with his self-satisfied train of thought. “Which is wild, because I haven’t even shown you mosta my moves yet.”

You filter on to the rescue vessel, greeting the pilot with gratitude and taking a seat with Poe, Rose, and Finn further down in the cabin.

If you’re honest, as relieved as you are to see your friends, you’re a little distracted wondering what other “moves” Poe might have to offer. Apparently, your lusty looks aren’t lost on your fellow Rebels, either. “Oh, for Maker’s sake, you two.” Rose starts. “Go. Get out of my sight. I’ll cover for you.” You and Poe exchange a glance, and Poe offers you a suggestive eyebrow, the gesture forming a perfectly phrased, unspoken question. He grabs your hand eagerly as your eyes shine in response.

“Thanks, Rose.” he calls, practically yanking your arm out of its socket with enthusiasm and he leads you towards an adjacent door.

“Just don’t touch anything!” she emphasises.

“And don’t let me catch you.” Finn promptly adds a condition. “And never tell me what happened in there.”

You throw a sidelong, helpless look back at Rose as Poe marches you away. “Tell me everything.” She mouths at you before you’re carried off. You give her a wink and turn towards Poe who leads you surreptitiously through another door and into an unused cargo store. His face splits into a grin. “And try not to scream.” He adds as he hikes you up on to the table.

“Oh, Maker. What have I let myself in for with you?” you chide fondly. However, as soon as you feel his touch on you, simultaneously loving and sinful, you recall; you regret nothing. Plus, this man’s not wrong. He has moves. Maker, the way his fingers are-

-Poe’s palm clamps over your mouth just before a loud moan spills from you. “Do you think you can keep quiet for me, honey?”

Nope. No regrets. You couldn’t unearth a single one if you tried. In fact, this might just be the best thing to have happened in a long while.

THE END

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[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #458

“i was unprepared for fame, then everybody knew my name”

What does your doormat say? I... actually am not sure. I don't pay any attention. What do you order from most sit down restaurants? Chicken tenders are my go-to safe option, ha ha. Or shrimp. Who was the last person you talked about love/relationships with? Sara. I wanted her advice. Where was the last place you thought about having sex, other than your bed? This was way too long ago, dude. Do you remember the last time you went against someone’s advice? Very recently. :x What day would you consider the best day of your life? Why? Idk, really. Would you say you’re too experienced or too unexperienced for your age? I am embarrassingly unexperienced. What is your favorite neon color? Ever buy nail polish that color? Hot pink. I don't care for nail polish. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? Uhhhh... What was the last charity/cause you donated to? Children With Hair Loss, when I cut a shitload of my hair off for the style I have now. Getting that certificate that my hair was used is to this day one of the warmest feelings I've ever experienced. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara. What is something you know very little about? Economics. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. I lost Jason. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, three of my siblings (all have since gotten remarried and are very happy<3), and I'm sure more distant relatives, too. Does your family go ‘all out’ during the holidays? No. How often in a year do you go to the mall to get new clothes? Pretty much never. Who was the last person to call you beautiful? What was your reaction? Someone on Facebook when I updated my profile pic, probably. I was very flattered, of course. As someone with a SHIT self-image, it means a lot to me. Do you ever get paranoid about who your significant other hangs out with? I'm single, but hypothetically, nope. Did you ever call any teachers by their first name? Who? Some, but only because they preferred it. I don't remember all of them, other than it was common in college. Do you blow-dry, towel-dry or air-dry your hair? Towel-dry and best I can first, then let it air-dry. Have you ever wanted to be in a band? ... One of the reasons I chose to go to actual school instead of homeschooling when I started HS was because I liked the thought of making actual friends and maybe being a guitarist if any wanted to start bands lmao. What is your favorite flavor of gum? Watermelon, probs. Are you a good leader? lol no Would you ever go bear hunting? I'm strictly opposed to hunting for sport, but even if I wasn't, I would NOT be going after bears. Have you ever picked flowers out of someone else’s garden without asking? Wow, no. Have you ever won money by entering a contest/raffle? No. Who is your favorite philosopher? I don't have one. What restaurant would you choose to go to for breakfast? I'm a v basic bitch and love me some Waffle House lmfao. How much money do you think you cost your parents? I. Don't. Want. To. Know. With so much medical stuff... holy shit. Do you eat any meat other than turkey on Thanksgiving? I eat spiral ham, because I don't like turkey in that form. Does your cat give you kitty kisses? Yes. :') Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Close, no. My mom was a close call, though... Her cancer was very, very close to being stage 4. Have you ever been to a waterpark? Yeah, as a kiddo. Describe the person you like/love in one word: Hilarious. Do you enjoy creative writing? Hell yeah man. If so, what things do you like writing about the most? Meerkats in a fantasy setting. Do you own any windchimes? Yes. Mom has one, I believe. Have you ever been known for something extremely negative? No. Would you say you’ve made a lot of people proud? Hell no. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone for over a year? Twice. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes? I think I've made that abundantly obvious in the past few surveys lmao. Does your birth name mean anything in another language or sense? It just means "of Britain." I wish my name had better meaning, lol. What is your favorite desert? THE KALAHARI because MEERKATS!!!!!!!!!!! :') Have you ever been called a good kisser? Well not directly, but no one's ever complained? Have you ever stepped on a bee? No. Who is your newest friend? Hmmm... I haven't made a new friend in a very long time. Tell me something about yourself that you don’t normally tell people. I'm an RPer. The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? That I wish I was NEARLY as hot as her lmao. What do you like about your birthday? We go out to eat wherever I want, yum. The person you’re thinking about - what are you thinking about them? That he needs to mESSAGE ME BACK Are you currently sick at all? No. Has anyone ever asked for your autograph? Er, no. What’s one subject that makes you feel uncomfortable? Sex. Who did you last send a friend request to? Idk. What candy makes your face pucker? None that I've tried. I handle sour treats very well. Do you believe that the number 13 is unlucky? No. Do you know any marines? Jason's dad was one. What’s your favorite Halloween movie? Hocus Pocus. :') Do you know anyone who does a lot of pills? I guess me, but they're prescription pills, and I don't abuse them. Mom has a lot, too. Who’s your favorite rapper? And your favorite song by this rapper? Eminem. Either "Love the Way You Lie" or "Space Bound." Has anyone ever made a promise to you that they’d change? Who? No. Have you ever had the cops called on you? For what? Nope. What race do you see the most in your neighborhood? African American. Have you ever walked in on someone accidentally while they were nude? No, I don't think so. Have you ever wanted to get your monroe pierced? Nah, it'd look weird on me. Do you own anything that involves Betty Boop? Nope. Can you remember the last song you listened to? Yeah; I'm listening to Lauren Babic and Halocene's cover of Linkin Park's "Bleed It Out" right now. What is your favourite flavour of Skittles? The sour ones!! Red was always my favorite. Who taught you how to ride a bike? My dad. Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? Girt. Jason is a very close second, but Girt... he saw me at rock fucking bottom. He just showed up at the hospital unannounced after my suicide attempt (he knew because yay for writing a stupid fucking suicide note on Facebook) to help comfort me. He saw me dead to the fucking world and just done with everything. When’s the last time you were on the phone after 2 AM? Wow... probably not since a few days before the aforementioned suicide attempt and I called Jason's landline, desperate to talk to him. His mom picked up and talked to me for like two whole fucking hours. I'm tearing up pretty bad just remembering it, seeing as she's dead now... She cared for me so much. I miss her so, so much. Enough of this question, I'm about to start sobbing. :x What would you do if your best friend got an abortion? Honestly? Be relieved. I really don't think her body could handle pregnancy. What would you do if your father left your mother? That happened, and I hated him for years. What would you do if your bf/gf’s face became mutilated in an accident? Love them all the same. I don't care about appearances. What is the weirdest thing you have ever seen in your life? *shrug* Have you ever dated two different people with the same name? No. That would be so weird. What are you deathly afraid of? Pregnancy. Internal parasites. Which unborn babies technically are. Do you know anyone who’s addicted to drugs and, if so, are you friends with them? I know many potheads, and one I'm pretty close with. Have you ever owned a golf cart before and, if so, what color was it? No. Do you have a sibling who’s a complete deadbeat and, if so, which sibling is it? Definitely not. All my siblings are hard workers that have dreams and aspirations they're either working towards or have achieved. Do you own the new Guitar Hero and, if so, what’s your favorite song on it? I have no clue what the newest one is. My favorite song to play in any of the games though is The Eagles' "Hotel California." It just feels good to play, and the ending solo fuckin' slams. Have you ever done anything dangerous enough to have risked your life? An overdose on cold medicine. What was the most length you’ve ever cut off your hair and why did you cut it? 8+ inches because I no longer wanted long hair. Have you ever overcome a disease that was life-threatening and, if so, which one? No.

[unethicalpractice]

GENERAL

name:   Edgar Griffith Swansea

alias(es):   n/a

gender:   cis male

age:   45

date of birth:   April 18th , 1873

place of birth:  Wales

hometown:   London, England. moved away from wales when he was little. 

spoken languages:  english. he knows some latin from studying with the brotherhood

sexual preference:  bisexual, demisexual

occupation:   administrator,  surgeon,  physician, researcher 

APPEARANCE

eye color:   hazel 

hair color:   light brown with a sprinkle of grey 

height:   5′9″

scars:   small nicks on his hands from not paying attention to medical equipment. he does have a couple from the night at the theatre but depending on the verse some aren’t there. the biggest is a longer scar along the right side of his ribs from trying to fix a punctured lung. others are barely noticeable. they are on his chin, and upper right cheek from the beating he got. 

burns:  nope

over weight:   no

under weight:   nah. I would say Ed is average weight with just a touch of extra. 

FAVOURITE

color:   rich reds and browns. he loves a good navy blue too.

hair color:   nah

eye color:   not really. he is more into your personality and how you hold yourself. 

song:   not a huge music listener. has the radio on to listen to interviews or classical music. randomly he might turn on some more modern tunes but isn’t very well versed in any of it. is a big podcast lover

movie:   not really, but does enjoy a good documentary. I can kinda see him being into romance films but I don’t think he watches them often. likes the cheesy christmas movies too. 

tv show:   he doesn’t give himself enough time to watch a lot of tv. may turn it on in the background while busying himself or watch the news. he is pretty basic. 

food:   if this man is turned he will without shame drink from a blood pack, but with guests he will cork that shit in a nice bottle. before being turned he loves a good pastry. 

drink:  coffee. tea. he will try any flavour once and likes to collect new flavours he comes across. for alcohol he likes wine and whiskey. he isn’t much of a drinker. 

book:  too many. he will never be able to pick. this is a loaded question.

HAVE THEY

passed university:  yes

had sex:   no, but verse dependent 

had sex in public:  no

gotten pregnant:   n/a

kissed a boy:   yes

kissed a girl:   yes

gotten tattoos:   absolutely not

gotten piercings:  no

been in love:   debatable (verse dependant)

stayed up for more than 24 hours:   many times. it happened a lot more when he was human. when an ekon he has trouble staying awake when the sun comes up, but that doesn’t mean he will not try. this ends with edgar being found in really weird places sleeping. 

ARE THEY

a virgin:   verse dependant 

a cuddler:   yes

a kisser:   yes

scared easily:   yes, and no

jealous easily:  no. he is too oblivious to care about any of that

trustworthy:   that’s up for debate

dominant:   can be, but not a lot. he will not mind having a bit of control once and awhile in the bedroom. he is a giver at times too. 

submissive:   yeah. he doesn’t know this but he is into the praising and being pampered in that setting. 

in love:   depends on the verse

single:   also depends on the verse

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves:  in a very twisted way, yes. i would imagine edgar would go to great lengths to figure out his new body’s limits. he goes on a very impulsive testing spree for awhile - even after fleeing from the pembroke - that result in very gruesome out comes. why not though right? he can’t die so may as well test everything out. 

thought of suicide:   not really?

attempted suicide:  see a few questions above 

wanted to kill someone:   nah. he might mention it but the man is a coward he wouldn’t.

have/had a job:   oh yeah. a couple. all in the medical world ofc. in the modern world as a vampire he does take a couple years off, or even a decade at times to not cause any suspicion where he goes off to scotland or even travels around the globe for exploration.

have any fears:  dying. not living up to his expectations.

sibling(s): pending... 

parent(s):  mum is welish and dad is from london

children:   nah

pets:  that’s a horrible idea but it I had to pick probably a cat

tagged by : @fanaiceach

[theabominableblogger]

Rewatching “Fright Night” (the 1985 version)

No I ain’t watching the remake with David Tennant.  ‘Cause I said so.

*does Borat impression while loading the movie on Amazon Prime*

“Sit here beside me on the veranda.”  Is this the... TV show scene?  The show with Roddy McDowall?

SCARE CHOOORD!

“So... luminescent.”  *laughs*

Those were some... horrible kissing noises

I like the out of context implication that as soon as the woman asks the dude to lay on her chest, Peter Vincent’s like “NONE IN THIS HOUSE!”

“IF SHE BREATHES...”

What idiot puts their smelly ass soccer cleats on their headboard?

“We’ve been going together almost a year, and all I ever hear is ‘Charley, stop it.’“  Well then maybe that’s a you problem

Also what the hell is that map thing next to Amy?

“Let’s get into bed.”  *bug eyes*

Amy, that is not the look of someone who is ready to have sex.

“It says right here that the divorce rate is 76% higher among couples who don’t argue before marriage.”  Shut up, Mom.

“Thank you [Amy] for helping Charley with his homework.”  ...I was gonna make a sex joke here but nah.

Oh I hate Charley’s friend in his movie.

Charley’s car, while super nice, looks like a sunburnt cow

“My luck.  He’s [the neighbor] probably gay.”  AAAAAHHH THEY EVEN SAID IT!

I really Charley to slap Teach [Ed] at some point but I know it’s never gonna happen.

For a moment, I thought that the carpenter dude partner was gonna be like Kenny from “The War at Home” but nah.  He probably just uses his teeth a lot.

*silently jamming to the background synth music*

*Charley spots a woman removes her bra in the window*  What was this rated again?

AN:  It’s rated R

*yells when Jerry looks over to see Charley through the window*

*Shot of Jerry’s hand pulling down the window blind*  That... is a lady hand.

AN:  They were actually extensions that Chris wore and he helped apply them himself so that he could just rip them off after a day of shooting

*Charley’s mom ruins Charley’s cover*  DAMN IT MOM

This movie is basically “Who Cried Wolf” but with vampires?

“I’m his roommate Billy Cole.”  Can you believe just that the fact that this movie was made in the mid 80s when the AIDS crisis in the US was getting ready to happen and director Tom Holland and the screenwriter went “YES they’re gonna be GAY and THAT’S FINAL”

“You actually saw the body, Charley?”  Uh doesn’t that tone raise any suspicion from the detective STANDING NEXT TO HIM?

*snorts in hilarity when Billy jokingly does the sign of the cross*

Charley, I would not trust anything Teach tries to tell you.

AND OF COURSE CHARLEY’S MOM INVITED JERRY OVER

OMINOUS SYNTH CHORD

My God, Chris Sarandon...

What’s with the celery?

Charley’s mom is the most oblivious character in this whole movie, I swear

FISH EYE LENS

I forget, do we ever see Jerry in vampire bat form or do we just see him as Chris Sarandon with fangs the entire movie?

Why yes, Charley, use your tiny crucifix.

Doesn’t the whole “enter with permission” count with bedrooms too or just the house in general?  If it counted with bedrooms, couldn’t Charley just put up a sign on his door that said “NO ADMISSION WITHOUT PERMISSION” and that would keep Jerry out?

Jerry is the most casual vampire I’ve seen so far.  Someone would just throw a chair at him and he’ll just No-Sell it like “Listen... I was just saying...”

There’s got to be a logical way to explain this Christmas thing.

We just need a vampire that’s like Catherine O’Hara from “Schitt’s Creek”

I love how Charley’s like 80% out the window and yet he can still reach for an entire mug of pencils

NO WAIT WE SEE HIS [Jerry’s] VAMPIRE FACE NEVERMIND

Valium?!?

Christopher Lee!

THAT FRAMING [of Billy kneeling directly in front of Jerry’s legs] ISN’T OBVIOUS AT ALL TOM HOLLAND

The logic for this movie is something else.  Charley sees someone on TV perform a vampire killing ON A TV SHOW and thinks “YES I’m going to ask him to help me with this vampire situation!” 

This is like asking Drew Carey if he can assist in a vampire hunting

*imitates Peter Vincent shooing Charley away*

*snorts at Teach and Amy walking in on Charley setting holy stuff ALL OVER HIS HOUSE*

Also I absolutely forgot about the weird side plot with Amy being an incarnation of a past love.  What is it with this and Bram Stoker’s Dracula going this route?

Man, Roddy McDowall is just a masterclass in classical acting.  You can tell the different style between him and the other actors.

There’s a bust of Klaus Kinski’s Nosferatu in the glass box!

AN:  *in best Janet from ‘The Good Place’ impression*  Fun fact, Klaus Kinski was actually an asshole

I like the red and black plaid night coat

God, all those clocks going off at once reminds me of the scene in Pinocchio.  That would give me so much anxiety in real life.

WHO TOSSED JERRY THE APPLE?!?

OH AND THEY [Jerry and Billy] WALK OFF TOGETHER OF COURSE

*imitates Peter Vincent saying “Good evening good evening”*

*going through AO3′s Fright Night 1985 tag as Peter explains what he’s doing*  Wow there’s four pages.  I might have to bookmark some of these.

Ohhhh kay, nevermind on half of these.  Not into that.  Nope nope nope.

I forget, is Billy also a vampire?  Or is he like some ghoul?  Werewolf?

...Interspecies romance?

For a fact, I know that if CinemaSins covers this movie, they would award Jerry the “eating an apple because he’s an asshole” sin and I would laugh

Oh he’s [Jerry] gonna go for the hand kiss, isn’t he? 

OH GOD DAMMIT

*has to still register it*

Wait, did Jerry hold the bottle up in front of the fire in case there was actually holy water?  Would heating it up counteract the holy water inside?

WAIT DOESN’T PETER CATCH JERRY’S LACK OF REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR AS THEY LEAVE?

How did they do that?  Did they just... comp Chris Sarandon out or did they have him tuck out of frame but still say his lines?

AN:  Tom Holland originally goofed up the shot I guess but they ran with it

JERRY IS BI HEADCANON CONFIRMED

WAIT HE FOUND THE MIRROR SHARDS

The overhead tracking shot following Ed in the alleyway is actually pretty good.  And the way it slides to a normal shot is great.

Oh they do the creepy Dracula fog!

Wait, this movie came out the same year as Nightmare on Elm Street 2.  Dang.

And that movie also had a weird homoerotic tone to it.

You know what, the way Jerry offers Ed salvation only to attack him was actually pretty solid.  Just good acting from both of them.  I was sold.

WAIT IT’S THE CLUB SCENE!

*Peter presses a cross to Ed’s forehead*  Great prosthetic too, holy crap!

*jams out to the song playing at the club*

Why do Jerry’s dance clothes look like either my pajamas or really lame exercise clothes?

God, it’s [Jerry pacing back and forth watching Amy] like a cat stalking a bird holy crap

NOOOO I DON’T NEED TO WATCH THIS SHE’S LIKE SIXTEEEEENNNN

*jaw drops when Jerry runs his hand up Amy’s leg*  NOOOOOO

Not gonna lie, this song almost sounded like a remix of the Nightmare on Elm Street theme

NOOOOOOOO STOOOOOPPPP CEASE DESIST

Amy’s hair just gets wilder and wilder during this dance sequence

STOOOOOOPPPP

Quick, Charley, start a fight!  Just... punch someone!  Commotion!

*just yells when Jerry steals a kiss from Amy*

*Amy wakes up in a white dress in Jerry’s house*  NOPE

God and he [Jerry] took off his shirt too just *hides face in hands*

*covers mouth with hand in attempt not to say anything*

*Jerry’s dragging finger scrapes off wood on the banister*  Oh that’s just mean

*Jerry drapes his arms over the back of Billy’s shoulders*  HMM

They would be that duo who would pick up a phone and take turns to go “...surprise, Sidney...”

*A wolf walks out of Mrs. Brewster’s room*  WHAAAAATTT?!?

Dang they really just tossed a plushie wolf off the stairs

WAIT the guy that did the VFX for this movie also did “Ghostbusters” if I remember correctly

AN:  Yes

They are just... really dragging out Ed’s death scene

That kinda exasperated look Peter gives the smoking house is great

Wait is Billy a vampire too?  Zombie?  What is he?

I really just want Charley to reach out and just slightly poke dying Billy in the chest so that he crumbles backwards.  That would have been hilarious.

How long is Amy’s hair?

HE [Jerry] DOES TURN INTO A BAT!

Real plot twist would be that the bat bite also starts turning Charley into a vampire so Peter would have to kill three birds with one stone (heal Charley and Amy and kill Jerry)

Boss move:  Peter closing the coffin in front of Jerry

And it ends with the same shot as the opening!

“Oh, you’re so cool, Brewster.”  So is Ed alive?

[smolbeandrabbles]

Somebody to You - Anders Harris x Reader (The Land of Steady Habits)

Author’s Note: Super Short Prompt request by a dear friend 😘💙 Thank you for requesting! Always happy to take requests if you ever do want to send anymore! 😁

I know I say this quite often these days, but when characters are this easy to write it really is a wonder that I don’t write for them more often?  Instead I spend it on characters that I have to hyperfocus on to get completely right... Andrew!

Disclaimer: TLoSH characters, gifs and lyrics not mine.

Premise:  “It’s too cold to get up and make coffee” 😉

Words: 1438

Warnings: one tinsy-tiny little sex reference. (It’s basically N/A)

________

Look at me now, I'm falling I can't even talk, still stuttering This ground I'm on, it keeps shaking I used to run around I didn't wanna settle down But now I wake each day Looking for a way that I can see your face I've got your photograph But, baby, I need more than that I need to know your lips Nothing ever mattered to me more than this

All I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah Is somebody to you All I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah Is somebody to you Everybody's trying to be a billionaire But every time I look at you I just don't care 'Cause all I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah Is somebody to you

---

It was certainly cold today. Colder than it had been in weeks. Nobody need tell you that, the fact that you weren’t too hot bundled under duvet and blankets, and tucked up under Anders’ body told you that. Tentatively you snaked your hand out to find your phone or clock – what time…? And almost immediately regretted it, pulling yourself back in – nope! That was ridiculous though, there was heating in this house, right? Having said that, you knew that for this exact sleeping position to work – and Anders was always very handsy – he didn’t like the house too hot in the evening. That better be all it was, or you’d be kicking your retired finance professional out of bed to fix the heating before you so much as put a toe outside the covers. When you questioned the decision to turn the heating down in the coldest part of the day, Anders trying to give you some excuse about bad dreams only had you raising your eyebrow at him and telling him to pull the other one! But he just liked cuddling you, and that was something you’d never complain about. As soon as your hand retracted again Anders pulled you closer. “You better not be even thinking of leaving…” “I just wanted to know the time.” You wound your arms around his, tracing gentle patterns into his skin. “Too early. There.” “Thank God I have such a helpful boyfriend.” “Damn right!” He chuckled, shifting his body from yours to relieve you of his weight. “I was about to say, he’s a little heavy though.” Arms still around you he pulled your back to his chest, pressing a kiss into your shoulder. “Naah…” You couldn’t help but grin as Anders traced his lips across your shoulders and neck, “If he says so.” You weren’t sure if you did drift back to sleep in his arms or not, but Anders was active this morning. Make no mistake, all that kinetic attention was on you. Although you weren’t really talking to each other beyond the occasional two sentence conversation, that didn’t matter too much. You’d been dating long enough to know each other and be comfortable even in complete silence, his head nestled with yours in the curve of your neck, legs tucked up under yours in the shape you lay in: sometimes he’d tangle your legs with his, but not this morning. Anders withdrew his arms from your embrace, running his hands over your arms soothingly as he placed another gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “You’re tense.” “Am I?” “Very.” He continued to rub your arms, graduating to your back – although he tried not to move too far away as he massaged gentle circles into you. “What do you expect, working in NYC?” “God, just give up! I did---! Oh, Baby…” His intake of breath was sharp as he got to your lower back, circles comforting. You wriggled under his fingertips, “Ah, uh huh. That’s good.” “Yeah?” You could feel his smile as his lips pressed into your shoulder again. “Yes…” You breathed, letting Anders work the tension out of your muscles. He was soft with you, wanting nothing more than for you to relax into his morning snuggles. That was fine with you – you had a man who treated you well and took care of you. In his eyes, the longer he got to keep his hands on you the better, no matter what capacity that might be in. Though if Anders moved them much lower, he’d probably get smacked. As he continued to rub these circles into your lower back - they became absentminded waves and patterns as his concentration lapsed – Anders took the opportunity to whisper sweet nothings that made you both beam and turn various shades of pink, eventually burying your face in your pillow, getting him laughing again. When you felt that your muscles may have relaxed enough, you became a little impatient; eventually grabbing his hands back, you just wanted Anders’ arms around you again. Although you didn’t stay like that for too long, and you turned yourself around in his embrace, small pout on your face. “What?” “I can’t kiss you when my back is to you.” “I was fine kissing you.” “Oh my god – shut up-!” You knew he was about to ask you to make him, so you caught his lips before Anders had the chance. He pulled your body closer to his, and this time did thread your legs together, linking his hands behind your back to continue to sooth you; rubbing his thumbs in the same gentle circles with that little love-struck bashful smile of his. You sappy idiot… These slow, sweet kisses continued into a full make-out session, with your arms tangled around his shoulders and then fingers tangled in his hair before you had to let him go. At first Anders was a little confused, until you began to yawn. Immediately his confusion was replaced with a smug grin: “Oh, uh huh, someone isn’t awake yet, it’s certainly too early.” You shoved him playfully, “Nah, I just need coffee.” Anders nodded his approval, “Great, I’ll take mine black… little bit of sugar.” You folded your arms, “Excuse me? You’re not expecting me to get out of bed and make it?!” “I thought that’s exactly where this conversation was heading.” He stretched out, eying you. “Uh, no.” “Well, then I guess you’re not getting coffee.” “Are you kidding me?! You’re not either then.” He shrugged, “I don’t need it – you’re the one who is sleepy.” “You’re gonna make your girlfriend brave freezing temperatures to bring you coffee?” “Yup. Anyway I’m older so I’m WAY more likely to succumb to the conditions…!” You narrowed your eyes at him, but Anders clearly wasn’t about to budge. Instead you just snuggled your form into his, Anders enveloped you in his arms once more, rubbing his hands over your back again. You made your voice sweet and persuasive: “I’m not tired or sleepy, just I’m relaxed and with someone I love and trust…” There was a long pause, and Anders cleared his throat, “Well how am I supposed to be snarky back to that-!” You laughed, almost triumphantly, “You’re not, you’re supposed to get me coffee!” He scoffed, back to his previous argument, “NO chance! I’ll freeze to death!” “Well, someone’s gotta do it.” “What are you suggesting? We draw straws?” “... You got any straws to draw?” You quirked an eyebrow; it wouldn’t surprise you, with his idea of decorating. Anders looked at his bedside table “Uhm. Unfortunately void of late-night binge drinking glasses and tiny plastic straws. Sorry, looks like we’re staying here.” “You’re infuriating, you know that right?” “Well, you’re still here.” He stretched again, and this time it was Anders’ turn to yawn, “No one is making you stay…” He folded his arms, jokingly turning his body half away from you. You whined gently, winding your arms around him tight and lying your head on his chest, smiling at just how warm he really was; “No one has to.”

You cracked an eye open to his next round of shuffling, and found him typing away on his mobile, “What are you doing?!?” You attempted to shift yourself across his chest to see the screen, whilst also keeping track of his heart under your fingertips. Moving your hands in soothing patterns over his skin to reciprocate his own movements over yours. Anders placed a gentle thank you kiss to your forehead as he replied; “Texting Preston.” “To achieve what exactly?” Your eyebrow raised, confused. “Well neither of us want to get up and get coffee, so, I’m sure he’s about.” Anders drew your body as close as possible to his, as if to prove a point once more about the cold air – although you weren’t arguing – “I’ll invite him for breakfast and he can bring the coffee!” “You are unbelievable!” So, he wouldn’t even get out of bed to make you coffee, but he’d make his son drive across town!? Also, wouldn’t one of you have to open the door for the poor guy? “I believe the word is... resourceful!” Anders smiled as Preston came back that it sounded like a great idea! You rolled again, propping yourself up on his chest; “And who is gonna make breakfast, pray tell?” Anders rolled his eyes and sighed, stroking a hand through your hair and traced his fingertips delicately down your back: “Oh... I’ll do it,” He ran his other fingers under your chin to persuade your lips to his, “just give me 10 more minutes!”

---

Thank you for requesting! Thank you for reading! 😘💕

[galaxxyboy]

gimmie gimmie s’more

summary: Shane somehow convinces Ryan to go on a weekend long, technology free sex-cation in the middle of the woods, with nothing more than a tent and a blanket to protect them from the elements.

or a weekend full of sex and feelings dump in the woods word count: 4,469 warnings: trans character, trans!ryan, explicit smut (vaginal penetration, unsafe sex, safe sane and consensual) 

“Ryan. Ryaaaan. Ryan. Ry-guy. Baby. Love of my life. Boogara. B boy. Berryga-“

“Holy shit.” Ryan doesn’t look up from his phone where he’s playing mobile sudoku like an old man, but he does tilt his chin in Shane’s direction.

“Look at me,” Shane says. Ryan complies as best as he can, (Shane is lying on his chest, after all, which is an awkward angle), but at least he’s done with mobile sudoku. Shane casts his eyes up at Ryan, fucking gorgeous and open, and then he claps his hands together and says, “camping.”

“Nope,” Ryan replies, and he’s back to mobile sudoku before Shane can even finish his sentence.

“Ry,” Shane says. He makes grabby hands at Ryan and Ryan finally puts his phone down to lace their fingers together. “It’ll be fun.”

The thing is, Ryan, in spite of Shane’s relentless teasing, isn’t some kind of Californian flower. He’s been camping before with his family as a kid, and actually enjoyed it. That kind of camping, though, involved a rented RV with an actual bedroom and a place to cook food. He figures Shane, a wild midwesterner, has something different in mind. Some kind of rustic camping experience where they’ll both be mauled by a bear in the middle of fucking, or something.

And besides, Ryan would rather take his rare time off from worrying about Watcher fucking Shane in their bed, in their house, and not in the bear infested woods, thank you very much.

“The last time you said something would be fun, I had to bring you to a Vegas ER to have a dragon dildo surgically removed,” Ryan points out.

Shane shudders at the memory. “It wasn’t exactly surgical,” he argues.

“Dude, they knocked you out for a good twenty minutes.”

Shane waves a hand as if he can get rid of that memory. “Well anyway,” he says. He rests his hands on Ryan’s stomach, under his shirt, and looks up at him through big brown eyes. Dirty pool . “Just imagine it, Ry,” he says, his voice soft. “Just me and you. No one around for miles. The sun on our skin.” He moves his hand lower. “ All our skin.”

“I fucking hate you,” Ryan answers, his voice a bit rough. Shane doesn’t answer, and Ryan raises an eyebrow at him. “No more dragon dildos?”

Shane holds his other hand, the one not currently attempting a break into Ryan’s pants, up in the air. “I do solemnly swear.”

Ryan sighs. “Fine!” he answers, and Shane rewards him with a rather mind blowing orgasm, so Ryan can’t be totally to blame for his Pavlonian response to Shane’s puppy dog eyes.

FRIDAY

Ryan isn’t sure if he should feel vindicated or scared that apparently apprehensive was the right word to describe how one should feel about Shane’s camping plans. As Shane unloads his car, it’s brought to Ryan’s sharp attention that Shane has packed very lightly: a cooler full of cheap beer, a small tent, an inflatable mattress (which, like, okay), a single blanket and multiple bags of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars. It seems that he’s brought no real food for a three day camping trip. Ryan’s not entirely convinced that they’ll be able to live off this diet, but Shane, taking off to their location with a tent and cooler in hand, seems non-pulsed.

“Hey Shane?” Ryan asks. Shane turns to look at him and Ryan holds up the cooler and one of the bags. “The fuck?”

“S’mores,” Shane answers, which does not answer Ryan’s question but okay. “Come on. Grab the rest of it. We’re burning daylight, baby!”

Ryan grabs the rest of the stuff, grumbling under his breath as he follows Shane. Shane arrives at the camping site first, true to his word, there are no people around, and pulls out the instructions for the tent. A smirk spreads over Ryan’s face as he watches Shane, furrowed brow and all, reading fucking instructions on how to put up a tent. “Need help, bud?”

Shane looks up at Ryan and rolls his eyes at the cocky face staring back at him. “Nah,” he answers. “I got this. Just sit right there and look pretty, baby. Leave the hard work to me.”

Ryan sits on the edge of the cooler and watches Shane struggle for the next ten minutes, grumbling under his breath. Eventually, Ryan decides to stop torturing the guy and gets up, helps him set up the tent. It takes all of two minutes, and Ryan smiles at Shane when it’s done. “Fuck you,” Shane says. “I totally had that in the bag.”

Ryan laughs. “You’re such a liar.” He puckers his lips at Shane and says, mockingly, “say thank you, baby.”

“Thank you, baby,” Shane replies as he presses his lips to Ryan’s. “Now come on,” he says. “Let’s get this air mattress going.”

Unfortunately, the two of them don’t have as much luck with the air mattress as they did with the tent. “I see,” Shane says, kneeling on the floor. “It needs batteries.”

Ryan rolls his eyes at Shane. “You didn’t think to replace them?”

“It’s not my fault,” Shane defends. He flops the end of the air mattress on the floor. “It’s Steven’s air mattress.”

Ryan is kind of morbidly curious how Shane talked Steven into giving them his air mattress, or why Steven even has an air mattress in the first place, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he says, “well I’ll just take the car and go get some more batteries.”

Ryan reaches for the keys, but Shane shakes his head. “Immersion, baby,” he responds, tapping either side of Ryan’s chest. And that’s how Ryan ends up that night laying on the cold, damp floor with only a blanket and Shane to keep him warm. Comfortable.

Ryan, trying and failing to sleep while staring at the ceiling, says “I hate you,” into the silence. When Shane doesn’t respond, Ryan looks down at him. Shane’s got his head on Ryan’s chest, long legs bracketing Ryan’s, arms around his waist, dead asleep. He looks so peaceful like this, no worry on his face, and Ryan, despite himself, brushes Shane’s hair and thinks about how fucking lucky he is to have someone like Shane.

SATURDAY

Ryan wakes up to Shane sneaking out from their blanket. “No,” he whines, groggy, reaching his arms in Shane’s general direction. When there’s no reply, Ryan squints his eyes open.

Shane isn’t in their tent at all. Ryan thinks Shane may have been mauled by bears which, while obviously traumatizing, would kind of serve him right for not listening to Ryan in the first place.

“Shane?” Ryan calls. He reluctantly leaves the safety of their tent to hunt for Shane’s dead body, which is how he finds Shane sitting over the edge of a cliff, watching the sunrise. The fact that the sun is rising cements in Ryan’s mind that they definitely should be sleeping, but he finds it’s hard to be grumpy at being woken up so early when Shane looks fucking etheral, brilliant yellow and orange rays coating his skin, reflecting off the water, rising heat covering Ryan like a blanket.

Ryan sits next to Shane and laces their fingers together. Neither of them speak for a while, watching the sunrise until the sun has fully risen, and the heat is a little more present. Shane turns to kiss Ryan, whispers, “love you, baby,” like a secret for the two of them to share, and then promptly stands, quickly shreds his clothes (Ryan gives him an incredulous look for that one), and jumps into the water.

“What the fuck?” Ryan shouts down at his boyfriend when he emerges from the water, hair a mess and laughing.

“Skinny dipping!” Shane answers. Ryan feels like he has god damn whiplash from the complete 180 his morning has taken. “Join me, Ry!”

Ryan, as with most things, feels drawn in like a moth to a flame to one of Shane’s crazy schemes. Despite himself, he shrugs off his clothes and jumps in the water next to Shane, making sure to thoroughly soak the asshole to teach him a lesson.

“Hey!” Shane shouts when Ryan resurfaces from the water. He splashes Ryan, and Ryan splashes back, and eventually they’re in a full out splash war like children. It ends when Shane holds his hands up as Ryan splashes a particularly big splash in his face. “You win, you win.”

Ryan’s giggles die out as he takes Shane in. His skin is glowing in the morning sun, his hair a mess on top of his head, his eyes sparkly. Ryan moves closer so that he can pull Shane towards him until their skin is touching. He brushes a piece of Shane’s hair out of his face and says, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Shane goes red. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he answers, and then pulls Ryan into a kiss. He tastes like seawater and s’mores and something so undeniably Shane that Ryan kind of never wants to stop kissing him, like, ever.

When Shane pulls back, he fixes Ryan with a devious smile. “You know,” he says conversationally, “back in the day, I held the record amongst my friends for the longest any of us could hold our breaths underwater.”

Sounds like a boastful lie, but to be fair, so does most of Shane’s crazy midwestern childhood. “Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah,” Shane replies. He skirts his fingers up Ryan’s thigh, almost touching him but not quite, and says against Ryan’s ear, all husky in a way that makes Ryan fucking melt, “you wanna see?”

When Ryan nods, Shane backs him up against the cliff and uses the momentum of the water to lift Ryan onto the cliff. Ryan wants to argue that this is really no testament to his breath-holding abilities, but then Shane pulls Ryan close by his ass and attaches his mouth to Ryan’s clit and Ryan really loses the ability to argue anything.

Shane pushes two fingers into Ryan’s hole and moves slowly, languidly, as if he has all the time in the world to make Ryan come apart. He lets up on Ryan’s clit to kiss just above, his thighs, everywhere but where Ryan needs him. Ryan locks his legs around Shane’s head, drawing him in closer. Shane pulls his fingers out just enough to spread Ryan’s lips, and he licks a broad stripe over them.

“Shane, Shane,” Ryan chants, his hands everywhere: Shane’s hair, his shoulders, his arms, wrapped around Ryan’s thighs. “You gotta-you-please-”

Thankfully, Shane has had training in understanding Ryan’s babbling and, perhaps more thankfully, he has a heart today. He pushes his fingers back deep into Ryan, gives him something to clench around, and sucks Ryan’s clit into his mouth again, hard. Ryan feels his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he’s pretty sure he would faint into the water if it wasn’t for Shane’s ridiculously big hands on his thighs. Ryan’s soaked and he’s not sure if it’s the lake or him.

When Ryan starts breathing hard around whines, Shane lets up on his clit and instead lets Ryan grind against the bridge of his nose, thrusting two fingers into him in a way that has Ryan gasping and pushing back against his hand. “Yeah,” Shane says. “Yeah, give it to me,” and then he curls his fingers against Ryan’s g-spot and Ryan sees stars.

Ryan comes hard and Shane follows him through it, thrusting his fingers hard, following the manic thrust of Ryan’s hips with his tongue fucking everywhere until Ryan comes down from it and pushes Shane’s head away. Shane pulls his fingers out of Ryan and says, through heavy breaths, “see? What did I tell you? I could hold my breath for hours .”

He’s so fucking full of himself but he’s also so gorgeous, red lips and wet face, that Ryan kind of has to pull him into a deep kiss.

They spend the rest of the day lazing around, laying in the grass in the afternoon sun, Ryan curled into Shane’s side, both of them naked as the day they were born, with no fear of people coming to find them and seeing them like this. No one around for miles. The sun on their skin. Ryan is a little loath to admit Shane was right.

He must fall asleep for a while, because he wakes up to Shane tending to a campfire. He has a pair of Ryan’s basketball shorts slung low around his waist and not much else, and Ryan just wants to look at him for a while. Unfortunately, Shane has supersonic Ryan detectors. “Hey,” he greets. He turns to Ryan with a goofy smile. “Steven called.”

Ryan reaches out for Shane and Shane complies, letting Ryan pull him into a grass-centric cuddle. “I thought we were having a technology free weekend,” Ryan says, a lazy hand coming up to rub circles on Shane’s bare hip.

Shane laughs a little scary against Ryan’s skin. Ryan pulls back to look at Shane. “What did you do to Steven Lim?”

“Nothing,” Shane answers, though his smile gives away the fact that he’s a liar. “He asked where you were and I informed him you were sleeping and thoroughly immersed in our weekend long sex trip. To which he spluttered and hung up the phone.”

Ryan laughs and tucks his face into the crook of Shane’s neck. “You’re horrible.”

Shane chuckles softly, his voice syrupy, as he dances his fingers along Ryan’s thigh. “You know,” he starts.

Ryan sighs softly and spreads his legs as Shane rubs his fingertips against Ryan’s opening. “I’m technically a liar.”

Ryan tries to push back on Shane’s fingers but he’s trapped by Shane’s arm holding his hips in place. “Oh yeah?” he says as he decides to relax into the feeling. “Why’s that?”

Shane presses a finger into Ryan and fucks him with it slowly. He leans down to whisper into Ryan’s ear. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

Ryan spreads his legs to give Shane a better angle. “We haven’t?” he asks, his voice breathy. “Wasn’t it you that ate me out until I thought you were going to drown? I was really afraid that I was going to have to call Steven and be like: ‘sorry, bro. He died eating pussy.’”

Shane laughs at that. “Steven would die too, and then you would be down to one CEO.” He rubs Ryan’s clit slowly and Ryan groans softly. “You know what I mean though, asshole. Penetration. Some good ole P in V.”

Ryan huffs out a laugh. “You are such a fucking cis guy.” Despite himself, he presses into Shane’s touch. “Go for it, man. P in V.”

Shane picks up his efforts then, pressing a second finger in beside his first. He stretches Ryan out on them, listens to the subtle changes in breathing. “You’re fucking beautiful,” Shane says, and then, just to be a dick, he presses another in and starts fucking Ryan in earnest.

Ryan puts a hand on Shane’s arm and can feel the muscles contracting beneath the skin. “Shane,” he says, all breathy. “Shane, you gotta stop, man. I’m gonna come.”

Shane’s smile is kind of loopy when he replies, “yeah, that’s the point.” He crooks his fingers and leans down to whisper in Ryan’s ear. “I wanna watch it happen, baby. Wanna watch you get my fingers soaking wet. Wanna make sure you’re nice and sticky inside so I have somewhere nice to put my dick.”

That’s it for Ryan, he comes clinging onto Shane’s arms, rides it out with his hips pressed to Shane’s hand, sucks Shane’s fingers into him as far as they’ll go. When he’s done, Shane pulls his fingers out just barely, just enough for Ryan to see how sticky he is. “God, what a fucking mess,” Shane says.

Ryan gives him a challenging look. “Why don’t you clean it up?”

Shane, as always, takes the challenge. He ducks his head between Ryan’s legs. He laps up the come there, but refuses to touch Ryan’s clit, which just drives Ryan crazy. He sucks Ryan’s labia hard and Ryan very nearly passes out. “Oh my god,” he gripes, a hand in Shane’s hair. “Please, please fuck me.”

Shane gives one last suck to Ryan’s labia before pulling his head back. His face is fucking soaked and he might just be the most beautiful person Ryan’s ever seen. “Well,” Shane says, a hand on Ryan’s thigh, a little breathy. “Since you asked nicely and all.”

Shane hovers over Ryan with his hands on the floor, like some kind of poor intimation of a sex pushup. He uses one hand to push Ryan’s leg up so that it’s bent next to his chest, and uses this new angle to rub at Ryan’s opening with two of his fingers. Ryan whines at the feeling. “Stop being a tease,” he says, but he can’t quite catch his breath enough to sound angry.

Shane rolls his eyes but lines his cock up with Ryan’s entrance anyway. He pushes in slowly, and despite the fact that they’ve done this more times than Ryan could count to in this lifetime, it still takes his breath away every time. Once Shane is all the way in, pressing gentle kisses to Ryan’s face, Ryan feels so full that he might split in half.

“Shane,” Ryan says. He gets his hands on the nape of Shane’s neck. He’s sweating, which should be gross, but Ryan can’t find it in himself to care. He’s getting fucked in the middle of the woods, is probably gonna find grass in horrible places for weeks to come, and all he can think about is how he wants more .

Shane gives Ryan one shallow thrust that has Ryan crying out and canting his hips up. “You good?” Shane asks.

Ryan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, Shane, A+ dick game. Please fuck me .”

Shane huffs out a laugh but starts giving it to Ryan in earnest, thrusting hard and fast, filling Ryan up and leaving him empty and filling him up again in a pattern that has Ryan dizzy with it. All he can do is hold on, his fingernails probably leaving indents in Shane’s shoulders, and get lost in the feeling of getting fucked right.

Shane pants over him, right in his ear, which Ryan suspects should probably also be gross but is currently just hot as fuck. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Shane says, because even during sex, he can’t shut up. “So wet for me. So tight. Look at you. You’re fucking glowing, Ryan. You’re ethereal.”

Ryan isn’t sure if he wants more to come or to cry. Shane, however, makes the executive decision for him. He rubs the pad of his thumb over Ryan’s clit in nice circular motions and whispers, right in his ear, “you gonna come for me?”

Ryan nods quickly. “Yes, yes, Shane, man, come on,” he pants senselessly, his nails digging so hard into Shane’s shoulders that Shane actually cringes a little.

That doesn’t stop his attack on Ryan’s clit, though. “Come on,” he breathes into Ryan’s ear, presses a kiss against the skin of his neck. “Come for me, Ryan.”

Shane has some kind of sex superpower that makes Ryan helpless to do anything other than what Shane says. He comes around Shane’s cock like he’s possessed, white light gathered behind his eyes, pussy clenching hard around Shane’s cock, keeping him there, his hands fucking anywhere on Shane’s body that they can reach. Shane rubs him through it, only stops rubbing Ryan’s clit when Ryan pushes his hand away, just on the bad side of oversensitive.

“Fuck,” Shane says, his open-mouthed breathing against Ryan’s neck. He sounds absolutely destroyed and Ryan can relate. He presses a hand to the back of Shane’s head and just cradles him to his body. “Can I-” Shane mutters. His hips thrust forward on their own accord and Ryan gasps. “Can I come inside you, Ryan? Please, please, I have to-”

Ryan cuts him off with an enthusiastic nod. “Yes, please, Shane.”

With permission, Shane thrusts his hips forward fast and deep, like he can’t bear to have his cock any further out of Ryan than absolutely necessary. He must have been holding back for Ryan’s sake, because it only takes a handful of thrusts before Ryan feels his cock throb inside him. Shane gets himself as far in as possible and comes, filling Ryan up so much he can hardly stand it. Ryan doesn’t get to see his face, but he can feel the puffs of hot air against his body, hears the way Shane says “Ry, Ry,” over and over, and that’s a treat in itself.

Shane stays shuddering on top of Ryan for a second, shaking with the sheer force of holding himself up for that long and fucking someone into the grass. Ryan would be kind of proud of if there was any more room in his head for thoughts. As it is, he just holds Shane close, enjoys the feeling of Shane’s cock inside him, keeping his come trapped deep inside Ryan.

Once Shane gets his brain back online, he rolls off of Ryan and lands on the grass with a hard thud . Ryan can feel Shane’s come dripping out of him, which he always finds kind of gross, but makes Shane go blurry-eyed. Shane collects the come that’s dripped out and pushes it back into Ryan, to which Ryan whimpers from oversensitivity.

“Do you want me to clean you out?” Shane whispers into Ryan’s ear, his voice deep and rough, and Ryan’s clit gives a weak jump that honestly kind of hurts.

“My guy, are you trying to kill me?” Ryan asks. He pulls Shane to his chest and kisses the top of his head. He likes being able to do that, horizontally, pretty much the only time he and Shane can be the same height. “Time to nap.”

Shane huffs out a laugh against Ryan’s collarbone. “Is that all you frat boys care about?” he asks. “Beer and naps?”

“And sex,” Ryan adds, already well on his way to sleep. “You made me come, like, three times today, dude. My body is begging for a nap.”

Ryan’s eyes are closed, but he can almost hear Shane’s cocky smirk as he says, “yeah. I’m kind of a god, aren’t I?” Ryan slips into unconsciousness, vaguely aware of Shane pressing a kiss to Ryan’s neck and saying, “I love you, baby.”

Ryan wakes up to a dark forest, Shane nowhere to be found. Ryan’s mind immediately goes to bears again, but when he sits up, he finds Shane tending to a campfire, sweats hanging low against his hips, a t-shirt hanging haphazardly from his shoulders, his glasses sideways and his hair a fucking mess as he digs through the utter shit pile of things Shane packed for their trip.

“Shane,” Ryan says. Shane comically drops a backpack, and Ryan sends up a silent prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen to a bisexual trans man that his boyfriend hasn’t broken anything important. “What the fuck is happening?”

“You’re gonna kill me,” Shane says, which is never a good way to start a sentence. Ryan sits up and Shane tosses him a sweatshirt and some pants. Ryan pulls the pants on and stands to put on the sweatshirt when Shane says, “it’s possible that s’mores are the only form of substance I’ve brought.”

Ryan stops with one arm in his sweatshirt and glares at Shane. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish,” Shane says. Ryan pulls his sweatshirt on finally and sits on the ground near the campfire. Shane rips open bags of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate in quick succession and hands them off to Ryan. He has sticks too, somehow, which makes Ryan a little wary of the fact that Shane ‘forgot’ real food. Maybe his midwestern ass thought they could pillage or something.

“Come on,” Shane says, breaking Ryan out of his thoughts. He already has his marshmallow over the fire, and Ryan does the same. “I’m not telling Steven Lim you died naked in the woods from malnutrition.”

With his free hand, Ryan mimes picking up a phone. “Uhhh,” he starts in a pretty bad Shane impression. “So Ryan died.”

Shane mimes being on the other end of the phone and pitches his voice up in an equally bad impression of Steven. “Oh gosh!” he says, which makes Ryan giggle. “Did he at least die peacefully?”

“Nah,” Ryan answers. He gives an exaggerated sigh and adds, “he was naked and really fucking pissed at me.”

“Oh!” Shane fake laments. “I have to go eat some gold to feel better about this!” He sighs.

Ryan laughs again and pushes Shane’s shoulder. “Man, shut the fuck up.”

They put together their s’mores and eat in relative silence. Ryan can’t help stealing glances at Shane’s face as they eat. He looks gorgeous like this, lit up by the fire, chocolate running down his fingertips. Shane catches him staring when they finish eating and gives him a goofy smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ryan answers. “Just,” he shrugs. “Thank you for convincing me to do this. It really was fun.”

Shane’s smile gets bigger then, somehow. “You’re welcome.” He reaches over and touches his sticky fingers to Ryan’s. “I told you it would be better than Vegas.”

Ryan breaks into a comically big smile of his own. “Shut up, Shane.”

SUNDAY

Shane pulls up to Ryan’s house around midday and parks outside. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he says. He leans over and connects their lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“See you,” Ryan says softly. He gets out and takes the stairs up to his apartment, where Roland is eating cold pizza in some kind of trance. Ryan guesses he probably hasn’t slept since Ryan left on Friday.

Ryan joins him for a slice of pizza, finally, some real food, and gets a few bites in before there’s a knock at his door. “You gonna get that?” he asks Roland. Roland just shrugs, pretty fucking out of it, so Ryan sighs and, with one last bite of his pizza, goes to answer the door.

“What?” he asks, and is surprised when Shane backs him into the room, pushes him against the wall and kisses him senseless.

“I was wrong,” Shane says when he pulls back for air. “I don’t want to see you Monday. I want to see you right now. And tomorrow and the day after and every second of every day.”

From the kitchen table, Roland says, “ew?”

Ryan doesn’t look away from Shane’s eyes. “Shut it, Roland.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

this fic is a rewrite of a supernatural fic i wrote when i was 16. i wanted to do this cute camping idea some justice and i hope you enjoyed it! it’s a behemoth and also the longest thing i’ve written in two years. i guess i just really like camping.

disclaimer: this fic dealt with a trans character. i myself an nonbinary afab and i used the language i myself would feel comfortable using and i write from my own experiences.

please please consider a reblog if you liked this!! it really helps! i also post bfu/watcher stuff on the reg and aes stuff so if you like that consider a follow? maybe?

thank you so much for reading and for your support.

- is

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello deary, I have a request to make. Let's have a bit of fun with Arthur, yeah? Reader does that " Don't let your boyfriend kiss you " challenge on him. He does everything he can to get a kiss but the reader playfully avoids every attempt. You can have him come close to almost kissing her but she turns her head and has him kiss her cheek, and he gets upset but she finds it amusing, loving how worked up he gets for a kiss. He then asks what does he need to do in order to get one and she tells.

This one was fun to write, I enjoyed it! (But I did end up hurting my own feelings). Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Warnings: does fluff count? 

Arthur’s a funny man, there’s no question on that. He’s a very thoughtful man when it comes to trying to find ways to please you. There’s one problem though: he keeps trying to do things that are uncharacteristically him. He does things to make you happy that, while you enjoy them, he doesn’t. Unlike his ex Mary, you don’t want him to do things just to please you. 

The first few dates with him had been fine, a little odd as they always are with both people feeling incredibly self conscious. Despite you having been in the gang and been friends with him for a long time, he was so cute and nervous during that first date. He blushed and stammered a lot. Even now, You like flustering him, he always gets that embarrassed little grin and his cheeks go pink. 

You’ve kissed him, oh, probably a hundred times. However, your relationship with him is still in the dark as far as the others in camp know. You’ve played things very close to the belt, not wanting anyone to know just yet. Neither of you are really ready for anyone to know (Hosea does, but he’s been good on his word and hasn’t said anything). Both you and Arthur know now isn’t a good time for people to be worried about your relationship, what with being on the run from the law and Pinkertons breathing down your neck. It was hard enough hiding your desire to be physically close with Arthur up in Colter where it was so cold. It’s not much different here in Horseshoe Overlook. 

Arthur comes up to you just as you set out the morning coffee. He greets you and grabs a cup. 

“I was thinkin’ we could go to town today,” he says, setting down the percolator. “Maybe get you some new clothes or find a new book for ya.” He knows you love to read, but you also know that while he can read well, it’s not his favorite thing to do. 

“Or we can do something you like,” you suggest. It’s frustrating to watch him take care of everyone else, including you, and completely disregarding his own needs. 

“Nah I do plenty to keep myself occupied,” he says, sipping. “Like yesterday, when I came back from hunting. I had a good ol’ trip, met some interestin’ people.” 

“And that’s something you have fun with?” you say skeptically. “Arthur, you hate people.” 

He chuckles. “Well, I ain’t fond o’ most of ‘em, few are a’right.” 

“And hunting? I know the only reason you do it so often is to get away and get into the wild open. But I also know that can be terribly lonely. Not exactly what I call fun.” 

He smiles, his cheeks growing slightly pink. That’s how you know you’ve hit it on his head. 

“You know me too well for your own good,” he says. He checks to make sure no one’s looking then he bends down to kiss you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction though, so you turn your head and his lips meet your cheek. 

“Awe, come on, darlin’. Just a small one before everyone else wakes up,” he begs. 

“Nope, you gotta earn this one, Mr. Morgan.” You pat his shoulder and start walking off. He follows behind a few steps. 

“So how do I do that?” he says. 

“I ain’t makin’ it that easy for you, Arthur. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” 

He stops and just watches you walk away, his hands on his hips and he smiles. You know how to play him, but unlike his ex, you don’t use it to your sole advantage. 

Over the next few hours, he tries a few different tactics. He brought you your favorite flowers and even bought some expensive chocolates (both earned him another kiss on the cheek but not one he really wanted). He offered to go find a new book for you again, to which you just shook your head. He invited you on a hunting trip to West Elizabeth, which he knew you liked a lot. Your resolve almost crumbled when he asked you to go to Big Valley, bathe in the sun, pick wild flowers and herbs and then lie in the open starlight and watch the skies. Again though, it’s not something that will only benefit him. You want him to ask you to do something or go somewhere that will be for him. He needs to take care of himself. 

Just past noon, he finds you behind a wagon, hidden from sight of the others. He grabs your hand, taking you from your work. He tries to kiss you again, but you just dodge out his grasp with a playful smile. 

“Darlin’, I will do whatever you want,” he says softly. “Hell, I’ll walk into the middle of this camp and declare my love for ya right now. Is that what you want? I know you’re gettin’ tired of hiding.” 

You put your hands on your hips. “While tempting, Arthur, that’s not what I want. Have you really not figured it out yet?” 

He shakes his head and puts his hands up. “I gotta admit, no I ain’t figured it out yet.” 

You smile again. “Well, think back to our conversation this morning, it’ll come to you.” 

He just sighs and walks away. As he does, you hear him muttering something about the mysteries of women. 

********************************

It’s sunset and you’re sitting on the edge of Horseshoe Overlook on the cliff gazing out across the canyon and its river. You’re watching the first faint stars coming out as the sky grows darker. Arthur sits down beside you, having just finished his stew. 

“You gonna relinquish yet?” he asks with a smile. 

You grin back at him. “Never. You figured it out yet?” 

He just looks away, his lips stretched into a small smile. “Maybe. I ain’t too sure, not like my streak is good. But, I had an idea.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out his journal. You’ve never looked inside it, nor have you asked him since it’s no mystery he’s a very private man. He holds onto it tight and then undoes the straps. He flips it open to a page that has an incredibly detailed drawing of a piebald stag. He lets you inspect it, though you know he’s nervous. 

“I never knew you could draw, Arthur,” you say softly, admiring the strokes. 

“Just somethin’ Hosea taught me, and… I taught myself some too.” 

He hands the book to you and allows you to flip through the pages, even reading some of his entries. You admire his writing, he writes with a beautiful hand. You smile and look at him. 

“It’s beautiful, but why you showin’ me this?” 

“Because I love you. Because… I want to be able to be completely open with ya, darlin’. Hide no secrets, share my fears with ya.” 

This is big of him. There’s hardly a person in the world you truly knows the depth of Arthur Morgan. Even around Hosea, he plays the big dumb brute that many people see him as. You’ve known for a long time how sweet, gentle, intelligent and caring he is. In fact, he probably cares too much about the people in the gang. 

You gently close the book and hand it back to him. He’s so damn close to earning that kiss, but you feel as though he has more to add. He takes the journal and puts it back in his satchel. He lays his hand on yours and looks out across the canyon. 

“I was thinkin’,” he says slowly, “maybe tomorrow, you’d come with me. Help me find some… some colored pastels.” 

“What for?” you ask. He’s growing hotter. 

“I always wanted to experiment with ‘em, think they’d make my drawin’s better. It’ll be a trip though, probably have to go all the way down to Saint Denis to find ‘em. Valentine won’t have ‘em, I know that.” 

“Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to help you find something for you?” you say. 

He sighs and smiled, looking at you finally. “I guess I am. I know it’s selfish, but-” 

You cut him off with a kiss. Not one on the cheek or even on his hand like you’d done earlier. Right on his warm, slightly dry lips. His hand goes up to your cheek and he moves with you. After a moment, you pull away from him. 

“This is all I wanted,” you say. “It’s not selfish to take care of yourself just as well as you take care of everyone else, Arthur. You deserve to be loved too.”

He smiles, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “I don’t know what it is you see in me, but I’m glad you do.”

He hesitantly leans in, looking for another kiss, and you give it to him. He moves closer to you, moving you so you’re nearly in his lap. His strong arm winds behind you, his hand planting against your lower back. You loop your arms behind his neck, trapping him against your lips, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Neither of you care if anyone else sees you, tangled around one another like this. 

After a few moments, you pull away slightly breathless. You slide your hand over his cheek, feeling his scruff scrape your palm. He puts his hand over yours.

“I just want you to take care of yourself, Arthur. I love you, and you should love yourself too. I know you’re a good man, despite your mistakes and sins. You’re too hard on yourself.” 

He kisses your palm lightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without ya, honey. Probably end up dyin’ within the year if it weren’t for you.” 

You kiss him softly again. “That’s not happening on my watch.” 

He smiles. “Good, feels nice to have someone watchin’ my back. So we’ll go tomorrow when I get back.” 

“Get back?” you say, pulling away slightly. 

“I won’t be gone long. Just have to go collect another one of Strauss’s damn debts. From some do-gooder named Downes. I won’t be long.” 

“You better not be. Just as long as he doesn’t kick your ass. Know some of these debtors try to.” 

He grins. “If you’d seen this man, you know he won’t. There’s no way that man is takin’ me down.”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Floating

The original request: Hey if you’re open to suggestions could you write about cal coming home one day and saying “uhm you look.. not sober?” And convincing him to join drinking with you and having a fun time 😉

This original prompt has since been adjusted. I did get permission (x). Thanks to you anon, for being so understanding and working with me so I can serve you best. 

Remember folks, consent is important in all matters of life--sex, romantic relationships, platonic, whether you’re giving a hug. Does not matter--allow the person to consent or even reject and respect those boundaries. Consent is also ongoing!

Please stay safe during these uncertain times. Drop a sweet message to your favorite blogger. Reblog your favorite fic. Recommend a fic to me if you want! We need to spread some joy.

Enjoy my masterlist--linked in the source!

Feel free to send me a song + a boy or small blurb request. (Can I beg for Michael content and request? Yes, thanks.)

This is a reader insert (you). Open to all races, gender identities. Just general light-weightness for the consumption of alcohol. 

______________________________________

It was only going to be one drink. One drink while you dipped your toes into the pool. And you had even poured it with a light hand, just to avoid feeling too out of your head too fast. But that light pour for one drink became a second one. And maybe they did become heavier pours as you went about it. But it was so hard to really taste the rum in the drink. That you figured maybe just a little bit more wouldn’t hurt. 

And now you’re sinking into the pool, your swimwear reflecting from under the water as the sun beams down. You relax your head into the slightly white marble. It feels good and for a second you’re not worried about the world outside, you’re not worried about work, or school, or bills. You’re not worried about anything because nothing else matters but the sun warming your skin and the water holding up your limbs. 

Before you can even realize, you’re three drinks down. It’s not that bad. Not until you go to pull yourself out of the water and suddenly without the natural buoyancy it’s a little harder to keep your limbs in coordination. A laugh pricks up your ears and you look up to Calum. “You do not look completely sober. I’d give us mostly.”

“It was only supposed to be one drink,” you huff. 

Calum nods. “You okay? They say you’re not supposed to drink alone.”

“I’m okay. The water just tricked me.”

He gives another nod. Your speech isn’t slurred at all and you’re keeping well on your balance. He slips the shirt over his head and settles down on the edge of the pool, feet sinking into the water. Paws click and you both look down to Duke. “No, no, no, no,” you mutter, capturing the small old man and settle him into the nearby wicker outdoor seat. 

He shakes his fur in response to your wet hands. Calum knows for sure you’re still good to work so quickly to rescue Duke from any other pool dives. “You don’t know if he wants to just get his paws wet,” Calum returns. 

As you turn the gold chain around his neck catches the light and you watch it shimmer for just a moment. It looks so delicious around his neck and you shake your head to keep the thoughts at bay. “No one’s having a heart attack on my watch. Not Duke accidentally falling or you diving in after him again. Nope, not fucking happening again.”

Calum nods, reaching down to run his fingers over the surface over the water. “So what’s on the menu bartender?”

“It’s just Cuba Libre’s. I’ve been doing them in like halves. So it’s nothing to knock you off your ass.” Calum’s height and stature and his drinking history leave you in the dust. But it makes you a cheap date, so his wallet has never had to complain about a drink or two putting you in your sweet spot. 

“Hmm, seems like a short menu.”

You laugh and settle down next to him with a gentle shove to his shoulder. “Look, I can’t do anything with your vodka vice and my rum vice. Just get the fuck over it.”

He laughs but looks at the small tray you step up near the pool. The bottle and cans have started to sweat and he can see the ice that’s melted to create a pool in the bowl. “I’ll give it a shot.” 

He hasn’t removed the shorts, but as he stands, back muscles rippling just a little as he lifts the bottle, you can’t help but stare. “You’re hot, you know,” you call to him before pushing back down into the water. 

“That’s it. No more drinking for the bartender,” he teases, grinning over to you. His chin is decorated in a few scraggly hairs that are trying to form a beard. But you still like it, don’t mind the light scratch when he’s nuzzling into your neck.  His attention turns back to the table, glancing over the small cue card you’ve handwritten with the instructions. He assumes it’s something new you wanted to try, and he’s not sure about the lime until the first sip. It’s not so bad. 

He settles down on the edge of the pool, legs dangling. You swim up between them, resting your arms on his thighs. “What do you think?”

Smacking his lips dramatically together to get the taste fully in his mouth, he rolls out his bottom lip. An hyperbolic thinking face. But you must admit that you like it when he raises the one eyebrow, really seals the deal. “Ain’t so bad. I reckon we can keep it on the menu.”

“You’re awful,” you say between laughter. “Just say you might like a rum drink for once in your life.” Your fingers wiggle for the glass--yours is empty and you don’t feel like refilling it. He hands over his glass with ease, watching you take a few sips. 

“Never. You’ll never get that out of me.” He does go in for his second sip after you hand it back to him. You know it’s good and that he likes it. You reach up, just to brush your fingers over the tattoos, before hooking your finger into the chain. It’s a gentle pull. A soft tug to let him know you want him closer. He ducks down, grinning at the action. “Yes, my love?”

“You’re a little shit,” you sneer. “But you’re my little shit.”

He hums. “That’s the way I like it.”

“I’ll tell you what I like,” you grin, singing the lyric just a little before sealing his mouth with a kiss. It’s swift but a little messy and he groans when you pull away. Using your feet, you push off the wall, arms lifting out to the sides. Duke is content on the chair, curled up in on himself. Calum watches you float, watching the way the water shapes around you thighs. 

“And you said I was hot,” he calls. 

“You are.”

“And so are you.”

You snort, watching the cloud pass over the sun. It hasn’t been easy, being cooped up in the house for the last two weeks. Both you and Calum adore having time together. But you’re both used to doing things, living that separate life that makes coming together so much more special. A lot of the day lately has been you working in the living room and he attempts to write and play bass in the back. And every so often you shout at each other to see a meme or for a kiss. Though before you’re escape to the pool, you were curled up next to Calum as he played the piano. His attempts at teaching you never went very far, but you always cherish his patience with you. 

“We gotta go the grocery store tomorrow,” Calum hums, still watching the sun soaking into your skin. 

You turn yourself vertical, feet brushing barely at the bottom of the pool before you feel yourself pulled back up to the top by the water’s tension. “If we go to another seven stores for toilet paper and turn up nothing, I will scream into the skies.”

“I’ll scream with you,” he laughs. Typically, Calum always kept stock. But after some plumbing issues, he let it go slack just a little. It resulted in you running out for a quick restock. Which did not turn up well for you. Though, Calum did find a small pack that was tucked away that bought you guys an extra few days. It was a saving grace when your phone rang from Calum in the second CVS you had run to saying he had found the white gold. “But for right now you can just float.”

“Join me?” You don’t say anything about the glass being nearly empty but you do smirk in his direction. 

His slender digit singles you out. “Not a fucking word.” He drains the rest of the glass before setting it down and pushing into the pool too. Basketball shorts as all. As he wades up to you, there’s an obvious grin lifting the right side of his mouth. He slides his arms around your waist and hoists you up. You wrap around him, legs and arm meeting at his back. 

“This is not floating,” you tease, ghosting the tip of your nose over his. 

“Nah, but I like this too.” His mouth captures yours, all the rum, Coke and lime mixing on your tongues again. 

-H

[krispyalpacaduck]

Music Lessons With The Devil Chapter 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Lucifer x OC fic

Rating: R for language

A/N: I’m starting to lose steam so I hope y’all still enjoy this :). Tag list is open! Let me know if you’d like to be added!

“Weren’t you crippled?” Maze said snidely as I walked up to the bar.

“Nice to see you too, Maze.” I laughed.

“We’re closed.” She said pointedly.

“It was just a shot to the leg. Nothing major.”

Maze looked me up and down. “Too bad.”

“Now, now.” Lucifer said walking up to us. “Be nice. How’s the leg?”

“Eh,” I began, shrugging my shoulders. “Hell will have to wait for me.”

“I beg your pardon?” I’d never seen a more shocked, disbelieving look cross anyone’s face before.

“The Devil has a spot reserved for me.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“It’s just a phrase, Lucifer.” I laughed. He’d referred to himself as the Devil again. 

“Yes, I heard what you said. The question is why did you say it?”

“It’s doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters! You don’t walk around saying a phrase like that and not explain yourself!”

“Lots of people do it. I don’t see you Halloween catting over them.” His expression literally looked like one of the Halloween cat decorations with its fur up.

“Would you guys just shut up?” Maze snapped.

“This isn’t over.” He turned to me, pointing his finger. “Did you bring it?” He asked.

I set my pack down on the counter.

“What’s this?” Maze asked, curiously.

I unfolded the pack and pulled back the velvet covering.

“Knives? You throw?”

Lucifer coughed, his eyes wide. “Can she ever…”

“And?” Maze said, uninterested.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve brought her here to throw with you!”

She scoffed then laughed. When she saw Lucifer’s expression, she stopped.

“You’re serious?”

I craned my neck to look at Lucifer. “Told you it would be a waste of time.”

As I started to pack up, her knife came up to my throat. “Wait.”

“Mazikeen!” Lucifer growled.

When she was distracted, I grabbed the dagger, flipped it around in my fingers and then threw it, watching it embed into the wall next to us. She looked at me with an unreadable expression, then said, “I like you.”

Turning to Lucifer, she said, “How did you find out she could throw?”

I cocked my head as I walked to get her dagger out of the wall. “Yes Lucifer, how did you find out?” I smiled really big, a cocky look on my face.

“It was a bit uncalled for, really.” Lucifer said.

“He crashed my college class. I got pissed and threw a letter opener at his head.”

“Damn near hit me in the head! This close!” He said to Maze, his fingers showing how close it was.

Maze high-fived me. Lucifer looked positively betrayed.

“Hey, you brought her to me.” Maze said.

“She’s right you know.” I said.

“Oh, shut up and pour me a drink.” Lucifer sighed.

“You better be careful with this one. She just may best you.” Maze told him.

He scoffed. “Nobody bests the devil.”

Maze leaned in close to him. “I’ll be sure to tell Amenadiel that the next time I see him.”

“Funny girl, aren’t you?” Lucifer said, a tight expression his face. “I’m beginning to think it was a bad idea to bring you two together.”

Maze and I shared a look and rolled our eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were toe to toe with each other. She even showed me a few tricks. We’d been knocking back drinks and I didn’t realize how much we’d been drinking until I stumbled trying to throw.

“Alright. I think that’s it for me.” I said, laughing.

“Hmmm….let’s do one more. We’ll bet this time.”

“Oh?”

“How about a challenge.”

I made a “continue” motion with my hand.

“I’m going to throw this drink umbrella and attempt to knife it to the wall. If I win, you kiss Lucifer.”

I spit out my drink. “What are we? Middle schoolers?” I chided.

“You guys are always eye-fucking each other so I’d thought you’d at least like to kiss first.”

“Hold on a second! I’m never the eye-fucker.” I protested.

Lucifer instantly perked up and moved right next to my face. “Ooohhh. I quite like this bet.”

Thinking of any possible way to get out of it, I just went for the easiest choice. Sighing, I said, “Alright and if you win, I’ll give you $50.”

“Deal.”

Lucifer was watching the throw most intensely than he had the entire time. Maze went first and naturally didn’t miss. As I lined up my shot, I intentionally missed. Not by much. Maze gave a victory cheer and put her hand out. I slapped the money into her palm with a smile on my face.

“Good game.”

Leaning against the bar, I felt Lucifer behind me, his lips almost touching my ear.

“You threw the throw. Didn’t you? I’m hurt.” He whispered.

I hoped I didn’t visibly shiver. Tilting my head back to look at him, I said, “Ancient Chinese secret.”

“Clever little minx.” I saw him lean in, staring at my lips. Just as he got within range, I put my finger on his lips.

“Nope. I lost the bet.”

When I brought my head back up, my vision swam. Holding my head in my hand, I said, “Ooh bad idea.”

“Lightweight.” Maze teased.

“Gravity is a bitch.” I whined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! You coming tonight?” Chloe said, bouncing up to me.

“Nah. I think I drank enough for a while today with Maze.”

She looked confused. “Since when were you two on good graces?”

“Since Lucifer set up a knife throwing appointment at Lux.”

“Huh. Anyway, you should come with us tonight. Lucifer is saying it’s his “rebirth” birthday party. Whatever that means.”

“Dude, I didn’t even attempt to understand him and I’m not about to start now. He had a really weird reaction today when he asked about my leg and I told him that Hell would have to wait for me. It was like he took it as a personal offense that I would even suggest such a thing.”

Chloe laughed. “You’re hardly going to Hell, Is but who knows? Lucifer’s a weird dude.”

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I said, “But seriously, how do you deal with that man? He’s so frustrating.”

She sighed heavily. “I know he is. But he really does lend some interesting insight to my cases and dare I say it, he’s become a friend.”

I bopped my head up and down, throwing my lip out.

“Maze tried to get me to kiss him today.” I blurted out.

“What?!”

“We were throwing knives and she bet me that if I lost to her that I’d have to kiss Lucifer.” I went quiet.

“So! What happened? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“I threw the throw.”

She clicked her tongue. “I bet he didn’t like that.”

“Yeah he put on a good show about it. Even tried to kiss me afterwards and I stopped him.”

“You should give him a chance, Is. He likes you.”

“Right. He likes me like he likes all of the other pretty tails that pack his bar every night.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Come on. At least come with me. Just because.” She was giving me that puppy dog face that I could never resist.

It was my turn to click my tongue. “Alright. You’ve convinced me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dressed in my best rave clothes, I met her at the door. Lucifer had made us VIP holders so we didn’t need to wait in line.

“Well, damn. First time I’ve been VIP of anything.”

“Right?” Chloe agreed.

We sauntered in to find the club already jumping. I was wearing a choker around my neck, a black  tube top and white cargo pants and my hair in a high ponytail. Maze saw us and motioned for us to come over. As I looked around the club, I saw Barb hanging all over Lucifer. It was kind of funny but I felt bad for him. She was barely wearing anything and left nothing to the imagination. That was the first time I’d seen him not interested in someone.

Maze poured us two shots, looking me up and down.

“Who is this?”

“Shut up.” I said, laughing.

“Rawr.” She said, making a claw with her hand.

“So…are we going to see a shuffle tonight?” Chloe asked.

I craned my head to look at her from under my eyelids. “Funny.” I said, scrunching my face up.

“We’ll see about that.” She said under her breath.

“What was that.”

“This place is jumping I said.”

“Huh uh. Don’t. Just don’t.”

She put her hand on her chest. “Me? I would never.”

I pointed at her. “I mean it, Chloe.”

I watched Lucifer run behind the bar, popping up to look between the bottles. Maze was looking at him, puzzled.

“What are you doing?” She admonished.

“Just making sure everything is running smoothly.”

“From between the bottles? It’s not like you to run from a human. Let alone a woman.”

“Ugh, she’s unbearable!”

He looked to me.

“You have to help me. It’s Barb…” He says, looking around worriedly. “She won’t leave me alone.”

I bit back a laugh. “But she’s so sweet and she loves when you speak French.” I said in an obnoxious voice.

He gave me a dark look. “Shit. She’s coming up here. Pretend we’re together. Just so she’ll go away.” He hissed.

“No way! Go get one of your flooz-”

Suddenly, he hopped the bar counter and had his arm around my shoulder. He pulled me into him, my hand on his chest. We locked eyes for a quick second before I tried to struggle away. 

His grip on my shoulder tightened. I glared daggers up at him in warning.

“Please.” He whispered into my ear.

I growled in response, the pity I’d felt for him earlier taking over.

“Hey! That’s where you went!”

Her face dropped when she saw me looking up at him.

“Thought you said you two weren’t together?” She glared.

He looked down at me, a hurt expression on his face.

“You did?” Complete with puppy dog eyes.

My eye twitched.

“I’m sorry, Barb. It happened quite…suddenly.”

I brought my other hand up and patted him on the back, making sure to put more force into the 3rd pat so it stung, all the while trying to keep a snarl from crossing my face.

“Rude.” He said quietly, his brows furrowed.

I looked up at him with a smile like venom on my face, popping my eyebrow up. I looked around for Chloe. She was gone. Barb folded her arms across her chest, popping her hip out.

“Give us a kiss, then. Go on!”

I paled.

“What?”

“Go on! If you’re together, prove it.” She had a knowing look on her face.

I laughed nervously. I looked up at him, as he looked from me to Barb. I looked back to Barb, digging my nails into his chest. “What is it with people obsessed about us kissing? He’s not really big on personal displays of aff-”

I heard him sigh and then I felt his hands on my cupping my face, turning me to face him. I didn’t have any time to react before his lips were on mine.

I inhaled sharply, my hands popping up. His tongue slid into my mouth like smooth bourbon. He tasted like a slice of Eden. My entire body softened from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I couldn’t deny the effect he was having on me. Slowly the sounds of the club died away as I gave in. His lips were a work of art and he certainly knew how to use them.

I felt him smile against my lips as he felt the change in me. He deepened the kiss, keeping a hand on my face and using the other to wrap around my waist and pull me closer into him. I’d never been kissed so thoroughly in my life. In that single instant, my universe flipped upside down and I could see why women kept coming back and why some lined up to be with him. He dropped the hand on my cheek, fingertips tracing down my neck as he pulled away, sneaking in a kiss right underneath my jaw. I exhaled, my eyes closed, shivering. When I opened my eyes to look at him, he smirked and booped my nose.

We both turned to look at Barb when she scoffed.

“Whatever. Call me when you’re bored of her.”

Lucifer smiled as she walked away, then turned back to me.

“So…that’s that then.” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I had goosebumps all over. 

“Was it too much?"

“Just a bit...yeah...”

I was panicking inside. The wall needed to go back up. Fast. I needed a distraction.

Chloe came up next to me, her voice contorted in excitement. I watched Lucifer wink at me, looking mighty pleased with himself as he walked away, mingling in the crowd. I dropped heavily into a bar stool.

“So…. what was that?”

“What was what?” I said, taking small sips of my drink.

She looked at me like, “Seriously?”

“Oh that? That was nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“It was to get rid of Barb. She’s been bugging him since we got here. He needed a way to get rid of her.”

“Annnddd he chose you?”

“Don’t look too much into it, Chlo.”

“Didn’t figure you the type to be a bleeding heart.”

“I’m not a complete ice queen. For 0.2 seconds, my pity overran my judgement. I’ve heard stories about Barb and he looked genuinely disinterested as she hung on him so I decided to help a brother out.”

Talking to Chloe helped me to calm down.

“About that distraction...” I said to myself when I heard the beginning of Spooky Scary Skeletons Extended Mix Remix start up and looked at her.

“As usual, you know exactly what I need.” I slapped her lightly on the arm and ran to the dance floor with a bunch of other people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST: 

@ayanna-wild​ @using-our-made-up-names​ 

[ktheist]

one without the other

assassin!jungkook x assassin!reader. 2.8k words. angst.

note: take note of the past and present intervals! this is a stand alone of my assassin drabbles which you can find on my masterlist! :)

x

It’s not the end until it’s the end.

This dark, somber room is the stage and you and Jungkook are the ones that will star in the grand finale. Oh, and Jimin too.

“Talk.” With that, the aforementioned man drives his knuckles into your - now ex - boyfriend’s face.

The glare Jungkook sends screams murder, ironically, as he spits out a mix of blood and saliva. The deep pink contrasts harshly with his porcelain skin and it’ll turn blue, and then green and then yellow as the past bruises he came to you with.

Boxing. Hiking. Basketball.

It’s always a new, creative excuse every time you inquire about the fresh bruise when the last one barely healed. You half-bought into his unbelievably active lifestyle being the cause of them because otherwise, how else could he acquire that sculpture of a body. Besides, of course, the training he had to go through to be for the job.

It’s isn’t until a year into your relationship did you find out what said job entitles. Sneaking into an important man’s house, slitting his throat in the dead of the night to have his family find his lifeless body the next day and flying back from China to South Korea in time for your dinner date was just a weekly thing for him. As was for you.

But you hadn’t played the field for quite sometime, not after you found out that you were doing the government’s dirty work instead of working for them. And the scope of your profession includes eliminating threats from other organizations of your own spectrum which is to say, one of their agents, Jeon Jungkook.

Before Jimin manages to throw yet another swing, you gently rest a hand on his shoulder, your grip steady. You don’t miss the look Jungkook throws at where your hand is before his eyes land on you and his eyes soften by a tenfold. It’s the same look he gives you when he told you that he hoped he’d be your last forever after.

Once your colleague lets you take the stage, you place the chair you’d dragged from the table across the room right in front of him, ignoring the way he looks like a hurt puppy when you wince from the pain in your leg from the wound he hired sniper to shoot.

“You give us what we need and I promise, I’ll make sure you walk. You walk out of here, out of the murdering-people-for-money business with a bag full of cash, identification... for you to start a new life.”

Jungkook smiles almost helplessly as he shakes his head, “A life without you in it? I’d rather die.”

“The organization you’re working for is gathering their best assassins to assassinate you - their own, right now and-”

The knock on from the two-way mirror is short but enough. A heavy cloud settles around the room as the seconds pass before you attempt to stand up and only manage to with Jimin’s arm around your shoulder which you push away as soon as you’re able to walk on your own accord to the door where Namjoon waits, probably in those ugly shades that he likes to think makes him more of a ‘bodyguard’.

Sure as day, the shades are on and to complement it, he’s donned a full suit, black and white and all.

“You’re walking on thin ice back there.” His voice is cool as steel but there’s no mistaken the familial warmth it holds, “don’t make promises you-”

“Do you wanna take down Xion or not?” you brush past him to the crutch leaned in the corner where you’d left it before you went into the room Jungkook is detained in, “shut up and leave this to me.”

A sigh echoes from behind you where the older male is pinching the spot between his eyes and just in that moment, another thud reverberates from the speaker, followed by a groan.

“Take a break, Jimin.” That’s the last thing you hear Namjoon say before you let the door shut behind you.

x

You were no stranger to this scene.

You’d pushed one too many pair of hands and bodied that tried to feel you up and grind on your ass. Thank god the buzz is getting to you, otherwise these faces would have been a little bit more clearer and the night would have turned a little less enjoyable.

The girls were lost in the sea of people but then again, you never really made any plans to go back together - if at least one of them hadn’t ditched you for a mildly good looking guy and presently making out in the uber already.

Time seemed to stop when you downed another shot of vodka. It was always a risk to abandon all your senses but after today, you’d say to hell with risks. You’d spend two years on high profile missions, thinking you were doing the right thing; killing the right people.

Until Namjoon called you into the office and broke down everything you stood for because your performance had been over-the-top, never a disappointment and that he trusted you to lead with him.

An agency of killers that the government built to ‘eliminate threats’.

What they meant was people - men and women with family - who were potential threats to the nation.

“Filthy politics,” you scoffed, barely able to keep your train of thoughts intact.

“Sorry?” Someone on your left inquired.

He had nice hair and was tall. His other features? You couldn’t really care less as you climbed onto his lap and started kissing him. He was good with his hands when he sunk his fingers into your hair and later, you’d learned that he was good with plenty other things as well.

x

Xion has retaliated.

You see it coming but you didn’t consider the system being down for .5 hours into the equation. HQ is on standby, 5 men are stationed by the main doors and a pair on every level by the staircase since the elevator is stuck, the cams displaying a white smiling mask with hollowed eyes.

“Don’t they ever get bored? I mean, they’re not really anonymous, we know who they are and stuff.” Taehyung’s fingers dance across the keyboards (yes, he has three) while he scans the screens displaying different encrypted codes on each one.

“Just get the ID scanners working again.” With an ‘please, you’re talking to thee Kim Taehyung’, you shut the door behind you.

Nodding to several of your people that you pass in the hallway, you didn’t realize you’re holding your breath until you reach the door at the end where Jungkook was supposed to be guarded by Jimin and Taemin who, at the present, are lying smack dab in the middle of the room.  The zip cuffs no doubt from Jungkook’s restraints lies lonely a few feet away along with an upside down chair with one of its legs bent. Whoever at the receiving end the unnatural crookedness, you know it’s going to leave an ugly bruise for at least two weeks.

Unlocking the safety pin, you thought to yourself, the skin where the bruise paints it purple is never going to regain its natural skin tone.

Bang.

Bang.

x

There was a soft sound of a some stand up comedy show which was impossible because you didn’t have a TV. That was, if the smell of pancakes and coffee didn’t give away a too-obvious hint of an intruder - a very handsome one, at that - watching some videos on his phone.

“Hey,” you came up to the counter, taking a drink out of the mug next to the plate of pancakes only to scrunch your face up a second later, “is this sugar?”

He rolls his eyes, “nah, can’t you feel it’s as dark as your soul?”

Placing the mug back where it belong and blatantly ignoring the attractive half-naked stranger, you poured yourself a cup of coffee and spit it back out before dumping the rest into the sink. Who puts fucking sugar into the whooping coffee making instead of pouring unsweetened coffee and then adding sugar?

He looked at you almost abashed - almost - but before he managed to say words of apology, you raised a pointed finger at him, mouth opening and closing before your hand balled up in surrender.

“Nope, don’t even.”

Silence befell you for one peaceful minute as the popping sound of a beer bottle echo throughout the kitchen before he chirped up again.

“I’m assuming you’re the type of person who likes butter over her pancake?”

It was decided right then and then, though you did not harbor so much wrath towards a single dish of breakfast, that -

“I hate pancakes.”

x

“They think we killed what’s-his-face and what’s-his-face-two” A figure steps out of the shadow and you can’t help but find humor in his choice of outfit.

“Come on. Black cap, black jacket - black everything, you couldn’t have chosen a more obvious ‘I’m-an-assassin-fear-me’ get up?”

The smirk on his lips indicates that he shares your amusement but the hand on your hip means more than that. Almost as though he needs confirmation that you’re here, manifested and laughing the way you would whenever he showed up to your movie nights in, as you said, black cap, black jacket - black everything.

“Damn, I missed you.” He’s always been freer, a little bit more expressive than what you’re used to and you don’t think you ever will get used to it.

He leas into your touch when you attempt to trace the cut on his temple, one of the many injuries inflicted by Jimin’s beating. His body is buried six feed under. The hospital the HQ owned called them up and showed his lifeless figure to his mother, father and sister for identification. He was robbed and shot, they said. That’s why they couldn’t contact them sooner, they said.

“I need you to do something for me,” you murmur, lips curling softly when he responds a second too fast.

“Anything.”

“Aren’t you even going to ask what it is?”

He shrugs, the kind of shrug where he doesn’t care. Not because he could care less but because he trusts you with his life - as if you didn’t stun him into oblivion and let your colleague beat him up right in front of your eyes without flinching or so you tried.

“Live,” you resist the urge to wipe away the tear that hits his cheek as soon as you said the word, “for me. You have to live for the both of us.”

“No,” he tries to pull away because maybe, somehow, if he wills it enough, the image of you will fade into the abyss and he’ll wake up from this bad dream.

“Jungkook-”

It happens too soon, a sea of figures in black from head to toe swarms the otherwise empty street, unforgiving hands prying you away from him as unfamiliar faces, possibly his own colleagues holds him back from taking a step towards you.

You’re forced on your knees but not a single tear blurs your eyes, unlike the ones gushing down Jungkook’s face. Face flushed red, mouth opened as he screams your name.

“Shut him up.”

The men on Jungkook’s side parts to form a path before a man in his 40′s, Kim Seokjin, the founder of the assassination organization, enters your line of view. Crisp white suit - why does it always have to be suits? Polished ivory shoes, you would have thought he’s a man sent by god if not for the spine chilling calmness in his eyes. The kind of eyes you see staring back at you every morning in the hotel room after completing your mission.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s were overflowing with warmth and livelihood even until the very last moment where he’s holding his breath, cheek red from the punches ordered by the man who demanded to make him shut up.

He takes a glance at you and nod to someone behind you. Doesn’t take much to know who it is when he comments on how it’s a pity to kill you instead of ‘that yapping disappointment’.

“Yes, well, she’s had her disappointing moments as well.” Namjoon is already glaring down at you when you crane your neck to look at him, long gone is the man you call brother, the man who you once had dinner with his wife and children last Thanksgiving.

Seokjin makes grunts, half-disagreeing as he gestures to you, “catching the enemy-boyfriend to get rid of any suspicions and then framing us for the hack, if only your tech boy was a minute late in getting the cams working.”

Namjoon clears his throat as the sound of a safety pin being unlocked hits the still air, “who’s going to do it?”

x

“It’s Jungkook, by the way,” his breath fanned your neck and his hands halted in its sweet sweet motions.

“Wha...” His name barely registered as you glanced over him, eyes half-opened, cheeks flushed and lips sore from the way he devoured you after breakfast - or as he would like to call it; desserts.

“I’d like to do this again,” he run his finger around your entrance as you whimpered, words of plea hanging on the edge of your lips but what came out was not exactly what he’d expected.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

He laughed when he slid his digits inside you and drew out a moan from those treacherous lips. You knew the things he could do - the recollection of last night still burning at the back of your mind - but to have experienced it sober was a whole new series of sensations.

“As you wish, baby.” He moved his fingers again, languid but precise, fast but steady and brought you to a different sort of high that you never knew you could reach - not even by yourself.

You were delirious and fucked out when you snuggled into him as he pulled the cover over your bodies.

“What about you?” You’d let all your inhibitions go when you’d asked that question but you would be lying if you said you weren’t grateful - devoted even, to giving him the same kind of pleasure he’d given you.

He wrapped his fingers around your wrist - the same fingers that are moist from your release - before you managed to go lower, “I’m saving it for next time, so I can have a reason to see you again.”

This time, it was your turn to roll your eyes but pulled your hand back to your chest anyway and rested your face in the nape of his neck.

“Your loss then,” you said but never mentioned any objections for the notion of a second encounter.

x

It’s funny how the world works, one man suggesting heads-or-tail and the other instantly agreeing to put the fate of your death on some bet. If it’s head, Namjoon is going to pull the trigger.

You thought you would spend your forever with him with your dirty work having kept a secret until you hit your quota of missions and they finally let you retire. Death has always been an equation in your calculation in any case forever didn’t work out but you thought it would come through a phone call and a faux doctor telling your boyfriend you probably crashed or drowned at sea when you were on a cruise on girl’s night.

You just never in a million chances, thought the call came in the form of Kim Taehyung standing right by Namjoon a day after the hacking. He’d taken less than 24 hours to decide whether to tell your boss about what he’d seen through the cams a second after he got them up and running and true to his workline, he did so with the knowledge that you never had any secret bank accounts that he could use to blackmail you cash in to him.

Jungkook’s eyes are shaking but his hands gives out the years of training of stillness and precision any assassin is required to have. One of his own presses a gun to his temple, the ultimatum quite clear even without having Seokjin explaining why, even though he Jungkook didn’t ‘necessarily need to die’, he could if he pissed him off one last time.

“Remember when I said I hate sweetened coffee?” You force a smirk at all those times when you pretended to loath drinking the coffees he claimed to make ‘out of love’ while you hide your smile behind the mug.

“Yeah.” The dimples dig into his cheeks as he tries to mimic your own smile, puffy, bloodshot eyes and mused hair, his cap must have gotten lost somewhere in the wrestle.

“I started to like it after I met you.”

Just as you thought there’s no more tears to cry, it cascades down pink cheeks, pinker lips bitten down, you hope it doesn’t break the skin.

It’s plain and simple, the words you said and the things you’ve done though you’ve never been all that transparent but Jungkook’s always had his ways of reading you like his favorite book he’d kept on your nightstand back at your apartment.

I love you, are the words you tried to convey and I can’t live without you more is the reason you’d put forth the suggestion of Namjoon contacting Jungkook’s organization about tonight’s meeting to end the feud with you as the sacrifice - the scapegoat.

And Jungkook knows it too.

He knows the moment you both found out about your jobs, there’s no way out of this unless one of you dies.

Bang.