#And like. This boy got dragged to a strip club. And spent the whole night READING!

[stellaluna33]

What is your interesting and probably unpopular theory about Jess?

😅 *nervous laughter* Ok, most people probably don't want to believe this because he's hot and seems clearly sexually "adept," but I sometimes wonder if he's actually somewhere on the Ace spectrum or demisexual at least. Like, here's the thing: I think he craves physical affection, but probably grew up in an environment where the most common way of getting/expressing that was sexually. But when he's not with Rory, who he's all out in love with (and is the only person we ever see him show any actual desire for), he seems pretty uninterested in general. It doesn't seem like something he seeks out or really cares about, mostly.

[allforyoumylovely]

If anyone’s interested, here’s a little fluffy something about how I imagine Robbe and Sander spent the night yesterday after all the birthday celebrations 💕

In a pool of late August sunset

The upper lid on Robbe’s right eye has 122 eyelashes. The other has 117. Sander counts them over and over while Robbe sleeps off the last remnants of his hangover on his chest, damp-haired and warm and sweet-smelling of apples and soap from the shower. Last night, his lashes were cast in dark neon red, framing his brown, almost black, shimmering eyes. Right now, they’re fanned out across the top of his cheeks, golden, the very ends nearly transparent in the patch of buttery evening sunlight that pours over Sander’s couch.

Sander absentmindedly runs his nails over Robbe’s scalp and smooths a hand up and down his spine over the old Bowie shirt that Robbe has claimed as his own. In response, Robbe unconsciously burrows deeper into him, letting out a deep, contented sigh in his sleep, and something squeezes behind Sander’s ribs. Robbe hasn’t been very talkative today, has mostly just been lying curled up against Sander’s side, sleeping, eating junk food, and then sleeping some more.

This angel-like boy with slack, parted lips and slightly pink cheeks squished against Sander’s sternum couldn’t possibly be a bigger contrast to the boy he was last night.

At the club, Robbe was all heavy eyelids, pretty cheekbones in the flashing lights, and sweat-glistening collarbones under a too-big t-shirt. As a joke, the boys had bought him a tacky, gold birthday tiara with the number 18 on it which Robbe had happily worn askew on his head along with bright, loose smiles on his rosy lips that Sander – lovesick and possessive – had kissed and kissed and kissed on the dance floor and at their table to the boys’ groans and complaints. Whenever and wherever he could get his mouth on him, he did it, the bottle of liquor in Robbe’s hand hitting his shoulder blade when he threw his arms around his neck.

Although Robbe had insisted on buying his own alcohol – “I’m eighteen now,” he said with equal parts wonder and nonchalance, “I can buy whatever the fuck I want” – he could easily have left his card at home and still get plastered; girls and boys offered him drinks and shots left and right the whole night. Sander didn’t blame them, though; if he and Robbe weren’t together, he would more than likely have done the same thing, hoping to get those Bambi eyes on him for just a few moments.

Robbe knows he’s beautiful. It’s evident in the way his eyes shine like new stars; it’s in the poise of his shoulders and his every movement, easy and natural. Sander doesn’t have to remind him, but he does anyway. Every day. And he’s bursting at the seams with pride at how Robbe has settled into himself, at how secure he is in who he is now at eighteen compared to his melancholy and miserable but equally as sweet sixteen-year-old self.

Of course he got offered drinks. But when the seventh person approached Robbe, Sander had enough, his chest flaring and burning, and he latched onto Robbe’s neck, taking great delight in Robbe trying to politely decline their offer while he, calculated and devilish, put his tongue and teeth to work, showing them exactly who this boy belonged to.

As Robbe’s coordination started to leave him, so did his filter. “I want you to fuck me in the bathroom,” he told Sander with a boyish bluntness and a kiss-slick, raspberry red mouth while hanging off his neck, nipping at his bottom lip, drunk and loose-limbed and stumbling to the bass-heavy music. And Sander had taken that as his cue to get him home.

When they finally sank into Sander’s bed at four in the morning, stripped of their clothes, teeth brushed (which Robbe did in slow-motion with his eyes closed, taking forever), Robbe whispered, pouty and soft, ”Can we make out for a bit?”

Carding his fingers through his tangled hair, Sander leaned into him and pressed his smile against Robbe’s, tasting and licking and swallowing all his pretty little sounds, but never taking it any further, just keeping it languid and sweet.

Smiling at the thought, Sander brushes a finger over a crimson smudge on the side of Robbe’s neck just below his earlobe, gently pressing into it. The light finds its way to the freckles scattered on the bridge of Robbe’s nose and over his cheekbones, little grains of brown sugar. When one starts to fade, Sander has noticed, another always appears. He finds new ones every day.

As he slips his finger under the chain around Robbe’s neck and places the angel over his own heart, Robbe’s groggy, brown eyes – always a different shade: maple syrup, dark chocolate, honey-gold with sprinkles of stardust – find his.

“Hey,” Sander says, pushing a few locks of hair away from his forehead.

With a sleepy groan, Robbe stretches the best he can in Sander’s hold and clears his throat when no sound comes out as he tries to speak. “Hi,” he whispers.

Sander gives him the glass of water on the coffee table when Robbe hoists himself up a bit and makes a grabby hand at it. “Feel any better?”

Gulping the whole glass down, Robbe nods and collapses back down on Sander’s chest, a hand sneaking under the hem of his shirt. “I’m never drinking again,” he pouts.

“But it looked like you had a good night,” Sander smiles.

And Robbe looks up at him again, droopy-eyed and hoarse and cute. “The best night. Thank you for celebrating with me, baby.” He throws his thigh over Sander’s hips and Sander follows the line of lean muscle with his palm. “But…”

“But what?” Sander mumbles, their mouths brushing as Robbe creeps closer.

Dropping his gaze, a bashful little smile spreads on Robbe’s face, and Sander hooks a finger under his chin, tilting it back up. “But you didn’t fuck me,” Robbe finally says.

“Ah,” Sander smirks, tracing the curve of Robbe’s bottom lip that is almost as soft as he is between his thighs, his other hand already disappearing beneath the waistband of his underwear. “You want that?”

“Yeah,” Robbe exhales when he feels Sander dragging their hips together in a teasing roll.

And Sander flips him around on his back and splays him out over the couch cushions, pushing up his shirt and peeling down his sweatpants, kissing his lips, knees, stomach, hipbones. He has reached for him, he has held him, he has had him like this at sixteen, at seventeen, and now at eighteen; his honey-tongue that he has memorized the shape of; his gold-dappled eyes sweeping over his features; his tender hands on his waist and jaw. And Sander gets a glimpse of it: the rest of their lives together, celebrating birthdays, their shirts tangled up in their laundry, napping in a pool of late August sunset before having lazy sex on the couch.

He is made of nothing but love for this boy, and right there in the fading light, trapped between Robbe’s legs, when the world around him only consists of bright white, and his pulse is a fluttering mess, and every muscle and tendon and cell is shivering, Sander presses his mouth to his safe place, the warm crook of Robbe’s neck, and knows that he’ll still have home there in ten, twenty, fifty years.

[collecting-stories]

Book Club - 90s!Luke Patterson

Summary: Reggie books a gig at a suburban mom’s book club and Luke takes full advantage of the situation to flirt with you. 

A/N: I’m literally writing two other Luke fics right now 😭😭

Julie and the Phantoms Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The third Thursday of every month belonged to your mother. It was her day, when she demanded not to be bothered, when she spent hours out of the house socializing with the women’s group that she belonged to. And, out of all those Thursdays, there were always the very special few when it wasn’t her leaving the house but everyone else. The group rotated their meeting time, everyone for a blue moon meeting at your house, meaning, of course that you were expected to stay out. Staying out was not a difficult thing to do, in fact you relished the opportunity to spend a few more hours with your friends. 

It was one of those Thursdays, when all the ladies that your mother loved to lunch with were spending the afternoon at your house and you were making yourself scarce, that arguably the weirdest but maybe best thing happened. Your mom had told you before you left for school that morning that she expected you to stay out, and you would have, if you had remembered your wallet. But you’d left it in your room, on the edge of the vanity, and you didn’t want to be the one owing money when your friends went to lunch. A quick stop home should’ve been easy, the stairs were right off the kitchen and the side door was right there, giving you the opportunity to shoot upstairs and grab your wallet without her being the wiser to it. 

The whole thing would’ve gone off without a hitch except that when you walked through the side door and into the kitchen you came face to face with four boys from your school. You recognized them more for the fact that you didn’t hang out in the same circle; most of your friends held a certain level of contempt for the four guys that made up Sunset Curve. You didn’t necessarily dislike any of them, you didn’t necessarily even know them, though you would be lying if you said that the lead singer, who occasionally sat in front of you in math, was seriously making you rethink a deep dive into all this rock music. Luke, Reggie, Alex, and Bobby were standing in your kitchen. They were the Green Day/Nirvana worshipping, head banging rockers that ditched school regularly and got into worlds of trouble and they were standing in your kitchen.  

Bobby was the only one who looked up from snacking on leftover hors d’oeurves, saying your name in surprise as the other three all stopped to look at you too. Alex gave an awkward little wave as he set down the small sandwich he was eating.  

“Uh...what are you guys doing in my house,” you asked, looking between the four of them.  

“Your mom tapped us to perform for her ladies club.” Luke explained, dropping his food on the plate and wiping his hands against his black pants.  

Your mom had invited these four to sing for her conservative ladies’ group? You tried not to but you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face when you thought about it. Whatever your friends said about the guys, you weren’t ashamed to say you had taken one of the free demos that Reggie handed out and had been listening to it on repeat for a while now. “My mom wanted you guys to play a gig for her and her friends?” You clarified.

“Until we started playing,” Reggie replied, and you couldn’t help laughing.

“I bet...you guys aren’t exactly...suburban mom rock.” You joked, “though I totally would’ve loved to see their faces when you guys started singing.”  

The grin on Luke’s face was unmistakable though you missed it as you nabbed one of the sandwiches on the plate near Alex. It was probably some really stupid cliche, him liking one of the popular girls. Cute, cheerleader, future prom queen. You hung out with people who listened to Britney Spears and Spice Girls, any knowledge of the rock scene they might’ve actually had was only for the sake of making dumb jabs at him or his friends. Still, Luke had a massive crush on you and he wasn’t so embarrassed to admit it. Bobby joked that he wanted to “bring you over to the dark side” and maybe that sounded cynical but he thought he wouldn’t mind seeing you look a little less perfectly put together if it had something to do with him. Hearing you mention his music almost had him doing a back flip from excitement.  

“So you’ve listened to our music?” Luke asked, moving closer to you, leaning on the counter beside you. Behind him, Alex rolled his eyes.

“Reggie gave out demos like...last month.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. You’d been excited to listen to their music, see if it was any good and had discovered that you actually loved it. They were talented guys and you felt surprisingly connected to the songs. “I might’ve listened.”

“I did!” Reggie piped up, “I gave demos to all the-” he stopped, mouthing instead, as if you wouldn’t understand him when he said ‘all the cute girls’.  

“I hate to ask but...don’t you think like, actual clubs would be better places to promote your music? I don’t think the middle-aged moms are really a target audience, unless you’re into that kind of thing?” You said, peering down the hallway when you heard the familiar squeak of a floorboard. If the boys were still here than there was no doubt in your mind that your mom had told them to stay for some reason or another.  

“You gotta start somewhere.” Luke replied, unfazed by the hint of judgement in your voice.  

“My living room?” You asked, jokingly.  

He smiled, “actually, we’re playing a club on the strip tomorrow night, we could, maybe, get you on the guest list?”  

“We’re opening for someone else,” Bobby cut in, bringing Luke back down to reality, “I’m pretty sure no one’s ever even heard of the band we’re opening for.”  

Luke glared at Bobby, sticking his finger in his mouth and then jabbing it into Bobby’s ear, a smile of success immediately lighting up his features when Bobby recoiled in disgust. “So what’d ya say?” Luke asked.  

“I mean, I guess technically every band deserves girls screaming for them, so sure…I’ll go.” You agreed, eyes on Luke the entire time.  

The last concert you had been to wasn’t even for you, your mom had dragged you to a Beach Boys concert up in San Francisco for her birthday weekend when your father refused to indulge her so-called ‘terrible taste in music’. “There are just some things we will never agree on and music is one of them.” He had insisted back then. It was the same thing you felt like telling your friends when you declined a party invitation in favor of heading down to the strip to see the guys play. You could’ve maybe played it off casually, as if you were heading down there anyway and Sunset Curve just happened to be opening but Bobby was right, you’d never heard of the band that was performing after them.  

Not to mention Luke decided to show up for a least a quarter of the day just to mess with your head. You had spotted him in the hallway between classes and smiled when he looked your way, a split second before the sea of students scrambled to get to their lockers. Your own best friends appeared by yours, looking more and more like carbon copies of the Heathers every day. You kind of hated them, truth be told, but you didn’t have too many other options.  

They were badgering you about the party as you tried to wrack your brain for an excuse that sounded convincing when Luke stopped, right in front of the three of you.  

“Hey, I’ll see ya tonight?” He asked, whole body turned to face you and completely ignoring the looks of disdain and shock cloaking your friends faces.  

You felt like a deer in headlights. Say yes and your friends would probably ostracise you, say no and you could just imagine the look on Luke’s face. Anything but this absolutely sincere and hopeful smile was something you didn’t want to be responsible for. You really liked him looking at you like that.  

“Yeah, can’t wait.” You nodded.  

When he stepped back out into the traffic of the hallway he touched your waist, as if he was anchoring himself for a second and you bit your lip, letting yourself watch him disappear before turning to face the firing squad.  

“Luke Patterson?” Both of your friends spoke in unison, one breaking off to elaborate, “you’re ditching a party at Max Turner’s house for Luke Patterson?”  

“His band is playing at some club on the strip.” You replied, shutting your locker and heading toward your next class. “They invited me to come watch the show.”

“And you’re going?”  

You hadn’t been to anything smaller than a stadium concert before and the implication of a concert at a local club venue, right on the strip with all the ‘riffraff’ that were hanging around trying to make it big like their 80’s punk rock idols wasn’t exactly your scene but, Luke had looked so cute asking you to go and you had the tiniest, maybe delusional, feeling that he’d come to school just to remind you that tonight was the concert. How could could even consider some suburban house party to that?  

“Yeah, why not,” you shrugged, trying to play it off like it was nothing, you could see your social status flashing before your eyes and your mom’s voice desperately begging you to reconsider. “Besides, Luke’s hot.”

“Did you have some kind of Freaky Friday switch when you woke up this morning? Luke is not hot.”  

“Okay,” you drew the word as if disbelieving. He wasn’t some 90210 reincarnate but he was definitely one of the hottest guys in school, not to mention the sleeveless shirts were an added bonus. “Well, I said I was going, so I’m going.”

And, despite the continued protests of your friends throughout the day, you did go. You promised your parents you were spending Friday night studying at Terri’s house and took the bus down to the strip to wait in line for Sunset Curve and whoever was headlining. You stood there twirling your fake ID in your hands, listening to the two girls in front of you (who didn’t need fakes) talk about some drummer that wasn’t anyone you’d ever heard of and tried to look as mature as possible. If Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby could play this venue, surely you could get into it.  

Whether the ID worked or the bouncer at the front door just didn’t care, he let you through, admitting you into a pulsing crowd of people making their way through the small vestibule and into the venue. You slipped your way through the crowd until you made it to the front, pressed against the railing and inches away from another bouncer who seemed just as disinterested in you. The drumkit that was already on the stage had the Sunset Curve logo on it. You ran a hand through your hair and fixed your shirt, maybe it was silly but you were sort of hoping that even in the silhouetted lighting of the venue you Luke might see you. Maybe a little pathetic groupie on your end but he had invited you.  

And he did see you. Halfway through Now or Never when he looked down over the crowd, he caught you, dancing along to their music, the smile on your face as you mouthed the words was infectious. It was the combination of seeing someone singing all the songs back to them and that person being you, mixed with the adrenaline of the performance, that had him pushing to give his absolute all. You’d actually come and he was determined to make this a great concert for you.  

Alex was the one to announce that they would be in the vestibule during the lull between bands, they got the occasional straggler who dared to leave their post long enough to say hello or great job but usually it garnered nothing more than the four of them splitting some pizza and relaxing by their merch table. Tonight, as they headed off stage to an enthusiastic crowd, Luke chanced a glance back but he couldn’t find you in the sea of people. Reggie grabbed his arm, pulling him the rest of the way off the stage and throwing an arm around his shoulder, going on about how awesome the show was, Luke quickly returning the jovial compliment.

“We were fire, man, that sounded so rad tonight!” He cheered, following Alex and Bobby as they made their way through the small hall that wove back into the vestibule.  

“It was insane!” Reggie agreed.  

You had made your way back through the venue after Luke mentioned being at the merch table, slipping back passed the bouncer at the inside door, flashing your stamped hand. Their table was set up in the corner, a little way away from the headlining band’s. You stepped into the vestibule at the same time as the boys, waving at Alex when he looked your way. He nodded, reaching over to tap Luke’s chest with the back of his hand.  

“That was incredible.” You admitted, walking over to their table. Luke’s smile instantly widened as he walked around to your side, not even thinking as he hugged you, your shoulders hunching at the feeling of sweat that encompassed you. “Ew.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Luke apologized, pulling away and putting his hands on your upper arms for a second before dropping them to his sides. “Still going off the adrenaline.”

“That’s okay,” you promised, “you’re cute enough to get away with it.”

“Yeah?” He leaned against the table, trying to look cool. He felt like he was grasping for words and he didn’t want to start stuttering or sounding dumb, Bobby would never let him live it down if he made a fuck up of himself. The other three tried not to laugh and ruin his moment.  

You seemed to recover from the moment first, glancing at the other three before landing on Luke again. “You guys are totally a live band though...like that was so good.”  

Reggie came in with a save, letting Luke off the hook for a moment, “Are you heading back in to see the headliner?”  

You grimaced, “don’t really know them...not really interested.” You replied, keeping your eyes on Luke, hoping that was hint enough that you’d come just to see him.  

It clearly was because, as a few girls stepped into the vestibule and looked like they were coming your way, Luke grabbed your arm, nodding toward the doorway for you to follow him. You did, walking with him into the hallway so that it was quieter, the sounds of the house music and the chatter of people outside being drowned out in the small corridor.  

“So, uh, sorry I’m still wigging out that you came.” He admitted.  

“I said I was going to, twice. Did you seriously think I was lying?” You asked.  

“I mean, I heard your friends giving you a hard time when I walked away, figured you might back out.”  

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t, seriously Luke, you guys are amazing. You’re so talented.” You replied.  

“Guess I was right when I told Reggie to take that book club gig huh?” He said, fiddling with the rabbit’s foot on his keychain.  

“Why’s that?”  

“I thought maybe if I was lucky, I’d catch a glimpse of you...having you come here and watch us though? Better than I could’ve imagined.” He replied, grinning at you.  

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, don’t act so surprised.” He said, “you gotta know how insanely cool you are. And you look beautiful tonight, by the way.”  

“Thanks,” you bit your bottom lip to try and keep your composure, “I uh...damn, you’re making me super nervous.”  

“Yeah?” He stepped a little closer to you, his hands brushing against yours as if he was going to hold them. You couldn’t help wishing he would.  

“I should probably let you get back to your fans,” you pointed out, glancing back out the door to where a few more people had gathered. If you stayed in this hallway with him any longer there was no way you were letting him back out.  

“Hang out? We could grab some pizza or something after?” He asked.  

“Yeah, absolutely.”  

When he walked back through the door you followed behind him, hanging back so you weren’t hovering around them as they chatted with and signed stuff for the group of people that had ventured out between sets. It didn’t matter though, as he talked, he kept looking back at you smiling as if you were both in on some sort of secret.  

[obiwanobi]

Ok ok but Clem, hear me, I need to share my personal Obi-Wan gets out release some steam in the lower levels of Coruscant but instead of stripping or raving at club, he gets into clandestine fistfights. He just goes all fight club on who wants to get punched in the face. Once, Anakin follows him in secret and find him his nose bloody, bare torso glistening with oil like a gladiator and dozens of fans screaming his (fake) name. He whites out instantely.

THIS IS WHY I’M HERE FOR I wanted to write like 2 paragraphs but then I got really into it, so here’s Anakin going from “time to laugh at my boring old master who I’m definitely not obsessed with” to “ANYWAY denial time’s over, I need him to pin me to the ground in front of everyone immediately”:

It takes fifteen minutes after landing on Coruscant for Anakin to decide that it’s time to bother Obi-Wan. For once, it’s not a decision on a whim, despite the carefree way he announces it to Rex before leaving his troops and ship in the hangar. The Force guides him through the halls and corridors toward the warm and familiar presence of his former master, but Anakin isn’t surprised to feel him preoccupied. 

Obi-Wan has been stuck in the Temple for the past four months.

Because of some careless planning, he was unlucky enough to be on Coruscant when Yoda realised that he was the only council member not currently swamped in various missions off-world. Since it was an unspoken rule that at least a few Council members should always be at the Temple, Obi-Wan has been asked to put his missions in the field on hold, and dedicate his time to represent the Council, until more of its members come back.  

Since then, Anakin has only seen him through holotransmitters for official briefings and reports. The artificial blue lights haven’t hidden the creases between his eyebrows and the twitch of his hands when Anakin raised the topic of his time away from the front, telling him all he needed to know about how Obi-Wan felt about being stranded on Coruscant to do paperwork all day or act as the face of the Jedi Order in the Senate.

Now that he can finally see him in the flesh, it feels natural to seek out Obi-Wan, poke at his poor master and laugh at his concealed misery. There was no doubt that Obi-Wan always brilliantly plays the role of a calm and serene Jedi Master, but Anakin hasn’t spent more than ten years around him without catching on the fact that at heart, he’s still a man of actions who needs some excitement and tangible problems to solve before he grows bored.

Anakin isn’t surprised to find him in the middle of various maps, datapad in hand and pointing something on a holotable at another Jedi. What does surprise him, after a few minutes of waiting for them to be done and the Jedi to go away, is that Obi-Wan is not putting any weight on his left leg. It’s the most subtle of change, probably undetectable to anyone else but someone who has spent so much time watching the way Obi-Wan walks and moves and carries himself. But it’s there. 

“Oh, that?” Obi-Wan says almost like he hasn’t noticed, after Anakin didn’t even bother with a ‘hello’. “A knight asked me for some hand-to-hand training sessions. Since I’m to stay at the Temple for an indefinite period of time, I can at least be useful to others. He didn’t go easy on your old master, that’s for sure,” he quietly laughs, and Anakin will be annoyed at himself later for not noticing the clear bait.

But for now, it’s the perfect opportunity to make fun of him, saying that old men like him should pay more attention to their health, and “be careful Obi-Wan, you’re already part of the Council and drink your tisane before going to bed at 2200, you can’t be going around holding your back and complaining about young people or I’ll start mistaking you with Master Yoda!”

A datapad comes flying at his head and it only makes him laugh harder.

Anakin starts to become suspicious two weeks later.

He arrives in the middle of the night from an exhausting mission in the inmost depths of the mid-rim, and his feet take him directly to Obi-Wan’s quarters. it’s closer than his anyway, and he knows Obi-Wan keeps his old room just the way he left it. If he’s being honest, he should also admit that he spends half of his time there instead of his own quarters. It’s just a question of being used to it, he thinks as he lets himself fall on his old bed. And here at least, he knows he will find the bed made and a cup fo caf waiting for him in the morning. Plus, there is nothing more comforting than the feeling of slipping between fresh sheets and the smell of the familiar citrus detergent, unchanged since his childhood. He should really ask Obi-Wan which one he uses. 

When he opens the fresher’s door the next morning to brush his teeth, he barely notices that Obi-Wan is already taking a shower, complaining about sacred personal space and unruly boys who never learnt common courtesy like not leaving their muddy boots in the living room or barging in occupied freshers behind the curtain. Nothing out of the ordinary, until Obi-Wan comes out with a towel high on his hips, but not high enough to hide the large bacta patch on his back and shoulder. 

“Wha-” Anakin tries to ask between toothbrush and toothpaste, but Obi-Wan is already out of the room, and even outside their quarters with a hurried goodbye when Anakin finishes brushing his teeth. 

Anakin starts to get annoyed when he comes back from Corellia a week later and Madame Nu catches him near the entrance of the library. 

“Please come get your master,” she sighs with a hand grabbing his arm, already dragging him in with unexpected strength. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but this is getting ridiculous.”

The ‘not my master anymore’ is still on his tongue when she makes an exasperated sign to a corner of the library where he finds Obi-Wan seated at a table, chin on his hand and head bowed toward a screen.

Snoring. 

Anakin barely contains his giggle long enough to take a holo and send it to Ahsoka. He takes another one then, closer, focusing on the way the late afternoon sun catches his hair, his beard and his lashes, enfolding Obi-Wan in its warm golden light. Focusing on his peaceful expression. 

 He saves this one for himself. 

Reluctant to disturb him, he allows himself a few more minutes of fondness and gentle affection in front of the scene before putting his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and shaking it gently. The wince and sudden jerk he gets as a result surprise him, before he remembers the flash of a bacta patch in the fresher a week ago. 

“'N’kin? You’re already back?” Obi-wan mumbles, straightening himself with difficulty on his chair. 

“Yes, just arrived a few minutes ago.”

 “What are you doing in the library?” He asks in a light tone. Something cracks, and his hand makes an aborted move toward his shoulder before thinking better of it. “I thought you would only come back this far in the economy section under death threats.”

This time, Anakin doesn’t take the bait. 

“You’re still hurt. Are you going to tell me which knight beat you up and apparently kept you up all night?”

The words have barely left his mouth when he realises the double meaning of his question and there are suddenly a dozen images in his mind and- No no no, it can’t be- Obi-Wan would never... Well, he would. But not this way, not the- Hand-to-hand training? With another knight? Every time Anakin leaves for a certain period of time, when no one will notice if Anakin’s not here? Being so tired that he’s sleeping in the middle of the library? The bacta patch? To get this, that would have- Oh, that would be a sight to- NO, no, this is definitely not it, Anakin has to believe it, or he will lose his mind right there. 

“A knight?” Obi-Wan asks, apparently still too drowsy to sense Anakin’s inner meltdown. He stretches his arms, and Anakin grows even more confused when he realises that his knuckles are scraped. “What are you talking about?” 

 “The- The one you’re training?”

Something passes in Obi-Wan’s eyes and he puts his hands in his sleeves just a little too quickly to look natural. 

“Ah, yes, the knight. Yes, he- we, we’re still having sessions now and then. Good to stay in shape, you know. Now, since you’re back, what do you say about dinner? I’m paying for Dex’s takeout if you go get it.” 

Anakin doesn’t feel focused enough to harass him about his flimsy explanation or tease him about taking a nap in the library. There are way too many incriminating images in his mind he needs to get rid of first. 

The next time he comes back to the Temple after a few days trapped in negotiations with neutral planets, he doesn’t comm anyone and is careful not to let Obi-Wan knows he’s here. He sends R2 and one of his droid pal to stand close to Obi-Wan’s door, and then, he waits. No one pays attention to droids, and most people forget that they have cameras that can be turned on at any point in time, if you ask nicely. It doesn’t take long. At 2240, R2 sends an alert to his comm. He gets his robe, shields himself heavily in the Force, and starts following Obi-Wan.

Anakin really, really doesn’t expect his former master, his “remember that wherever you go, you represent the whole Jedi Order, Anakin, so act accordingly” master, to make his way to the bars and clubs district of the lower levels through hidden shortcuts, bypass cameras and security officers like he’s done it all his life, and knocks at a durasteel door full of graffitis in a language Anakin can’t read.

Definitely not meeting a Jedi knight for regular hand-to-hand training. 

Under his hood, Obi-Wan nods at the Twi’lek who opens the door for him. Anakin lets a few minutes pass before making his way to it. It takes him a heavy mind suggestion to get her to let him in, and when he walks through the door, his heart suddenly starts beating faster in anticipation of what shameful secret he’s going to find.

The thought of seeing Obi-Wan sprawled on a couch of a hidden club with a harem of girls around him crosses his mind, and it twists something he usually tries to ignore in his stomach. It’s not Obi-Wan’s style, it’s so far from everything he knows about his master, but his mind won’t stop entertaining the most insane possibilities of what he does when he’s stuck without Anakin at the Temple and bored by meaningless paperwork. He wouldn’t have imagined Obi-Wan doing anything else but meditate to release tension, but here he is, in the worst part of the whole planet. So what’s next to come?

His throat is already dry, but it’s even harder to swallow when he imagines Obi-Wan letting himself be lead to a private alcove by one of these imaginary girls.

Or boys.

Anakin suddenly thinks that there is no way he’s going to handle this whole thing well.  Whatever he will find will make the effect of betrayal, and he’s not certain why. But Anakin is also convinced that he will be restless and unable to sleep for the rest of his life if he doesn’t get answers. He needs to see, to understand, to know everything about Obi-Wan, even the things he apparently doesn’t want to share. It’s selfish and unkind to his master who has always made a point of respecting his privacy and was probably way too lenient with him during his apprenticeship. He knows that. Now that Anakin has a padawan of his own, he’s fully conscious about all the things Obi-Wan let him get away with for years. He knows. 

But there is something about him that Anakin can’t let go, will probably never be able to let go, that makes Anakin greedy. Demanding. Needy. A poor example of a Jedi that his master would be ashamed of, especially for being the source of it. 

 Anakin refuses to think about it for too long. 

The arena is a distracting surprise.

All of a sudden, he’s pushed in the middle of a crowd, unbalanced by the music, the loud cheers, the flashing lights, the Togruta yelling into a mic, the bell ringing and the thunderous applause all around. No one pays attention to him, way too engrossed in what’s happening in the centre of all this agitation, a few meters down from Anakin’s position.

Nothing could have prepared him for watching the two fighters in the centre of the arena. 

One of the men, the largest one, is face down on the red sand, clearly defeated for the night. Anakin barely notices him, because above him, rubbing his knuckles against his bloody nose before raising it in a universal sign of victory, is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Polite, well-mannered Obi-Wan, who once lectured Anakin for ten minutes because he walked on a nice carpet with his boots on, is now bare-chested in front of a rowdy crowd roaring at him- no, for him. He’s sweating, cheeks, knees and hands covered in sand and exhibiting massive bruises on his ribs and his shoulder. The wide smile on his face says enough about what he thinks about it. 

When Anakin thinks that he will never truly recover all parts of his brain from seeing Obi-Wan’s muscles gleaming with oil and sweat under the artificial lights, he realises that people are chanting his name. Well, nickname. Even with the deafening sound of his blood pumping in his ears like he’s the one fighting in the middle of the arena, Anakin can’t stop himself from scoffing. How can Obi-Wan get into illegal street fighting in the lowest levels of Coruscant and choose to call himself Ben? At least some of his boring master’s choices don’t surprise him. 

It's not the first time he's watching Obi-Wan fighting with nothing else than his fists. It was even quite common when his master was teaching him how to defend himself, when Anakin was still a young padawan. But Obi-Wan was always so proper about it. Focused on the fastest and most efficient way to get the upper hand without maiming his opponent. The picture of calm and serenity, even while throwing his padawan down on the mat to teach him an important lesson about self-defence. Rarely a strand of hair out of place.

But here? Here it's nothing like the impassive and soft-spoken Jedi Master who doesn’t even seem to sweat in the training room of the Temple. Here, it's a fascinating grin on his face, bloody knuckles in the air, adrenaline and flashing lights painting his red hair a shade too wild. It's a violent and brutal show for glory and entertainment, and it suits Obi-Wan like nothing else before.

Anakin has never wanted to be slammed down in the sand so badly in his life. 

The crowd around him suddenly goes quiet, and it takes Anakin a second to realise it’s because Obi-Wan asked for it with a simple hand raised. There is something fascinating in watching all these strangers obeying him so promptly, eagerly waiting for a word from him, when Anakin can still remember all the times he cut Obi-Wan off in one of his tedious lectures. 

The whole arena holds its breath, and Obi-Wan takes a few seconds to enjoy it. 

“Next!” He finally yells, and the crowd yells back in delight. 

Anakin needs to gather his thoughts. Or what's left of them anyway. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan dodging the punches of his new opponent with a flourish, parrying and making an acrobatic show of throwing him over his shoulders on the ground just for the crowd’s enjoyment is more than distracting. Despite the blood on his face, the bruises, the dishevelled hair and the sand sticking to his torso because of the sweat, Obi-Wan hasn’t looked this carefree since the beginning of the war, and Anakin can’t look away. 

 He can’t decide if he’s content to simply be mesmerized by the whole thing, thrilled to be able to admire Obi-Wan being this bold, almost smug, from far away, where his clear feeling of want doesn’t have to be ignored right away, or angry at him for putting himself in danger for no reason when he’s taking enough risks as it is fighting a war. For once, Anakin is tempted to be the voice of reason for the two of them.

It doesn’t last long.

A minute after the commentator enthusiastically yells into her mic Ben’s victory, a bell still ringing in celebration, Anakin has already made his way to a little booth away from the show, where a bored Kiffar asks him what he wants. Anakin licks his lips, and can’t help feeling like he’s a young padawan again, giddy with excitement and vibrating with anticipation. 

“How much to join?” he asks, but doesn’t let him time to answer before adding, pointing to the arena, “How much to fight him?” 

[ace-t-fic]

Riverside Gryff’s

Phone fanifc be warned no grammar (I made the greaser au + plus any complaints about lily’s writing are based heavily off she was written I just added more on having a sister like petunia to it.)

The ear-piercing sound of glass shattering dulled in comparison to the loud chatter and Music, and that filled the room. But the workers heard it with a heavy sigh as one marked down another tally mark. That's the fifth one; it's only three days into the week. These kids brought in good business but Minerva thinks they’ll run her dry with all the replacements she has to order.

“I’m headed out!” Diana rushed tapping Severus on the shoulder. He only bid her half-assed goodbye before he finished tying up his apron. She was an elderly woman that handled the hard coffee crowd in the morning. By the time Severus clocked in half of the morning/afternoon crowd was beginning to rush out. They were replaced by the younger staff who could handle their own crowd— teenagers.

If there's one thing besides the teenagers, they hated about this place; it was working the floor. Sure the girls loved it and reveled in being next to the many teen sleazeballs that frequented it, but Severus did not. Weasley also downright hated it; the Spinner's End kids had no qualms about throwing him the harshest of nicknames. ‘Fire Crotch’ was a favorite of Severus'.

But Severus hated working the floor whenever any of the jocks down from the riverside visited. Especially when A bunch of spoiled jocks who thought they were thugs came in. Riverside Gryff’s etched across their backs on black leather. All they did was change from their letterman jackets on the way over. They never did anything but bully and abuse lesser people than them. On the other hand, Severus knew true thugs that would stab you in the gut for anything.

"Whatcha thinking in that pretty little head there?"

"All the self-defense moves my mother taught me to ward off men like you." He stated boardely before grabbing at his notepad "What will it be, Potter."

"The in-between Sundae."

"The hell is that? Severus said before reaching under the counter to grab a hold of one of the menus. "We don't have that here."

"Sure you do" James started, a sultry smile gracing his lips as he leant halfway over the counter."Just give me a bottle of whipped cream and spread ya legs-"

"You never know when to shut up, give up and move on," Severus hissed. Briefly eyeing the patron over giving them disapproving looks.

"Of course I don't. I've seen you in my leather jacket."He smirked, leaning closer on the bar." and out of it."

"Excuse me!" Snipped a customer causing Severus to jump-start and remember he's at work, hitting customers is not in the business model.

God, he really hated life sometimes, more so when he took into account that lily was probably the worst friend he's ever picked up. Realistically she roped him into more trouble than his short run with Lucius. She was his best friend but they all were too fucked in their childhoods in too many ways.

They met in church, and he lived on to see her try as hard as possible to shake the notion that she was square. She wanted to rock and sing blues in midnight clubs. Ask Severus, and he'd tell you he had always thought she was jealous of his sister in that way. Petunia, as much as a devil, still managed to garner her family's love while she was sneaking out from the back porch with a cigarette in her pocket and Vernon waiting in a cab a couple of blocks down. At one point she had roped Lily into being her secret keeper.

Lily always folded under pressure and being a square for the rest of her life crisped the edges. So much so that she got involved with the crowds at the riverside. Severus would've never seen it coming with their separate schools and incomes between them. That was until he started shadowing her in town and movie theaters. They went to a dollar movie that day. Abbott and Costello and Severus stood there awkwardly with three other girls who called em'selves goldies. They got into their seats, and it was fine but it seemed like they were making a fuss over nothing and throwing popcorn around. They kept glancing to the side of them and that was when he had noticed a group of three dudes sitting a couple of seats down and to the side.

It got to the point where it was irking Severus just enough for him to take a glance at what exactly put the girls in a frenzy. Got his answer as an equally irked Potter rolled his head up to glance in their direction. He had remembered him of course, preacher's son and an asshole that spent Sunday school telling Severus that since he was a bastard he'd be going to hell. Now he's a thug that keeps staring even as Severus turns his head coming to terms with not getting to watch the movie.

Even when it had finished and Severus retreated to the bathroom to wash his hands an amused James slid past him with a mumbled apology. It got even worse from there when he got his slug from a neighbor who passed and was the designated driver. Finally, it ended with a bonfire on the lake. Lily had gotten ahead of herself in strip poker and Severus was there with his shirt to save her when she went prancing along the lake. The night ended with both of them soaked and a little worse for wear.

Once the hysteria passed and lights in the lodge filled with the teens, Severus had sat on the pier miserable. James plopped beside him and his jacket heavy on his shoulder now that he was shirtless. The whole thing was weird, the atmosphere changing and stretching uncomfortably whenever they were in the same Vicinity together. Didn't stop Severus from leading him back to his car, though. When Lily had found them a few drunken words and curses later Severus had tried his hardest to drag her home. A moment later they were both found in a tree.

Severus is a little irritated to wake up and find the preacher looming over his hospital bed in prayer with his mother. A letterman jacket sitting on the seat beside him.

"How's Lilly darling," Trelawney asked, fumbling with the register.

"She's good, doing much better in the silent towns. Reckons she'll visit for the summer."

"Oh, sweet girl. Shame that DUI, these gangs they got themselves into, gold ladies and whatnot. In my day I would've been dealt with, with! a wooden spoon. "She chattered grabbing a few bills before jampacking the drawer closed." You be careful with these lot, charming boys aren't passaged to paradise." Before making her way back to the table she was servicing.

"Full of shit, that one." He heard a voice mumble near him. "Untouched and a nail-biter." Severus’s hands clenched to hide his nails before glaring at the curly-haired boy.

"Oh come on, I'm not talking about you."

"Then why make observations pertaining to me." Severus seethed, abruptly reopening the register. "Well, it's adorable when you do it-"

"Piss off," He said before going back down the bar.

His night only got worse as 4 more glasses were broken and a fight broke out. A drink knocked over and a wet shirt later with stains on his jeans had him reeling for a day off. And when clean up was said and done Minerva locked up the gates and he saw Arthur off on the bus he waited under his spotlight.

"Your shirt is a little wet there, need a change?"

[extremelyblackandwhite]

losing my mind

pairing: endings, beginnings! frank x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, sex, drugs, cheating, creative liberties with endings, beginnings plot, time jumps, angst, accidents, wounds

based off “losing my mind” from bernadette peters/or follies 

sequel to “always hate me”

The sun comes up, I think about you. The coffee cup, I think about you. I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. The morning ends I think about you, I talk to friends I think about you and no one knows it’s like I’m losing my mind. All afternoon doing every little chore, the thought of you stays bright, sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left not going right ...

The sounds of the night infiltrated Frank’s mind like a drug, probably the only one he could take. Life seemed bleaker and this time he just couldn’t deal with it the was he normally did. Somehow drinking seemed to have no effect on him, drugs were just childish things and girls didn’t matter to him. He just roamed the Earth like a doomed soul with heavy metal spheres shackled to his ankle. Even his house no longer felt like home, every small thing reminding him of Y/N. From the little Beanie baby in the fireplace to the lingering scent of the laundry detergent she had swore to him was the best thing he could ever get and would make his clothes as soft as ever. It hurt him more not to have her on his side rather than Jack, Jack who he had known since he was a kid. No, he missed her and how she would drag him to watch Gossip Girl with her as Jack merely sneered at the idea or how she would eat only sweet and salty popcorn believing it tasted better.

The only thing that seemed to take his mind off was driving. He couldn’t sleep so driving was the only thing he could do. Just drive. Anywhere, for hours and hours on end with sleep weighting his eyelids and regret on his mind.

     - Where are we going? - he turned his head to the side, Y/N sat on the passenger seat, burgundy dress on and feet up on the car console. She had a sassy look to her, hair pushed back with a gaze that almost mocked him. Slowly, he blinked his eyes wondering if his mind was playing a trick on him, which it definitely was. - Don’t worry, darling. I’m just a personification of guilt and lack of sleep. 

      - Go away. - he steered the wheel of his car, hoping the hallucination of Y/N would just disappear. 

      - I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel so guilty. - the corners of her lips were pushed upwards. - How long did you think I took to sleep with Jack, huh? Think we’re doing it right now?

      - Shut up. 

      - He was always much more interesting than you. Smarter, sophisticated, the type of guy I’d take to my parents. You know my parents, right? You know they love Jack, they’re always talking about him and how smart he is. Do you wanna know what they say about you?

     - Shut up. - he screamed but what was he screaming at? His own guilt, screaming at the personification, the realisation of his guilt standing there in that damned burgundy dress, the same dress he had met her. She was not there, she was not real, she was just a vision. Guilt and regret personified. - Go away. 

     - I can go away whenever you want, darling. Go on and do what you always do, go get high, overdose even and maybe I’ll disappear or maybe I won’t. We all know you’re gonna end up like that, dead, just a bit too much and I’m not gonna be there. Jack’s not gonna be there when you’re gone and we won’t care. You wanna know why? Because you push people away, you push them away because you know you’re a mess and being next to you is like dying from radiation poisoning. Slow and painful, side effects lasting forever.

    - SHUT UP! - the lights of his car got brighter and brighter until he realised it wasn’t the light of his car that were shining at him. In a flash of second, his forehead hit the wheel of the thud and everything went black. The last thing he heard, his heart still beating and seemingly breaking out.

I dim the lights and think about you spent sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or where you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind? I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. Does no one know? It’s like I’m losing my mind.

The sizzling of the pan was everything that was heard on Y/N’s very small apartment just on the outskirts of town yet still with an unbelievable rent price tag. As she moved the pan, she looked up to the clock shining 4:04 AM. She sensed something was wrong yet she couldn’t pin point what is was. Had she forgotten rent? No, rent was surely paid. Were all bills paid? She didn’t know but something was deeply unsettling to her and as Jack, who had come over for a small dinner and catch up, spoke to her the tragedy-like feeling just rose out of her chest.

    - Y/N? - he touched her wrist, noticing how still she was. - Hey, are you alright? 

    - Something’s wrong. 

    - What? Do you feel a disturbance in the Force? - he joked, trying to lighten the mood but Y/N was much to distressed to even get the joke. - Please tell me it’s not about Frank. It’s been two months.

    - Frank? No. I’m just .. I’m just tired. - she sighed, grabbing the pan from the stove and placing it on the table, a perfect frittata. Jack merely raised an eyebrow, setting down his cutlery as she sat. - What?

    - Normally if you don’t sleep that’s what happens. At this point I’m not entirely sure if stopping communication with Frank is hurting him or you more.

    - It’s not about Frank, Jack. Cut it off, please. - she rolled her eyes, slicing half the dish for her and half for Jack. Of course that deep down she knew she was lying to herself, of course it was about Frank. Half of her didn’t want to admit it that she hadn’t caught a wink of sleep ever since Frank professed himself to her as that half knew what he was. She knew the type of guy he was, she had picked him up from one night stands houses, from the curb of sleazy bars and strip clubs. He wasn’t exactly what one would consider a partner yet at the same time she knew he could be good. He would always make sure to buy some sweet and salty popcorn despite hating them, even having a quarter of a shelf filled with them. Or when her engagement broke off and he sent her a care basket with the whole box collection of Friends and Gossip Girl. 

    - C’mon, Y/N. Spit it out, what is it? Have you also been in love with Frank for all these years? - it came out as more of a joke, a tiny yet full laugh coming from his throat yet Y/N remained still. - Oh my god. You’re in love with Frank.

10 YEARS AGO

Y/N walked into the Valentines’ Day party thrown by Jack, barely holding herself up in her pair of new heels and burgundy long sleeve fit and flare dress which at the time she had thought was very appropriate. The mood was mellow with low lights and pink and red helium balloons suspended into the air while a very slow and almost melodic version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” played. 

Jack quickly noticed her, waving at her to come join him and his friends. In all honesty, she didn’t know any of the people here. She knew Jack from her English class as they had been paired together at the beginning but other than that it was mostly frat boys and their boyfriends. 

     - Hey, Y/N. I’m so happy you came. - he gave her a friendly hug before turning to his friends, or rather, one friend as the other men around seemed much more interested with their dates than him. His friend however quickly caught her attention. He was much more casually dressed than the other boys, wearing a button up shirt with a worn out coat and slightly ripped jeans. - This is my friend, Frank. Frank this is Y/N, we go to English class together. 

     - Nice to meet you Y/N from English class. - he raised his glass at her as she took a seat in the middle of the two boys. - What’s your poison?

     - Oh, I’m really not in the mood for alcohol tonight. - she gave him a shy smile, feeling like a school girl talking to the jock. 

     - Ah, that bad? - he questioned, bringing the cup up to his lips. - Don’t feel bad. Valentine’s is a commercial invention and the break up rate is usually higher around it. 

     - Sounds like you’re the one who’s not dealing well with it. - he raised an eyebrow at her statement, amused look in his face. - Statistics quotes and all? Who broke your heart?

     - No one breaks my heart, I don’t have one. 

    - Everyone has a heart no matter how hidden it is. That is just how anatomy works and you can choose to ignore that you have one or you can chose to accept you have one. 

    - You speak like an English student.

    - You speak like a Law student. - she noted.

    - How did you know? - he was amused by her, mostly how cut throat yet somehow soft she was about the information she was giving out. 

    - Law is reason free from passion. - she quoted, leaning her head against her own shoulder. - You seem to be void of it.

PRESENT

   - You know Jack just because you’re very happy in a new relationship doesn’t mean I need one. - she was protective but she knew. She knew she loved Frank, she had loved him from the very moment they had known each other, she loved him through the recounts of his night stands, she loved him when she accepted a marriage proposal and she loved him when she left his life months ago. However, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together. 

   - I’m gonna ask you this only one time and whatever answer you give we won’t speak about it ever again. - his hand went to rest on top of hers, a caring look of that of a parent that Jack somehow always carried. She just stared at his hand, softly and safely on top of hers as he let the question go. - Are you in love with Frank?

The truth is not always kind or reassuring, it’s not always soft or climatic and in this case it was just ... freeing in a painful sort of way. The pain of holding it in for ages, pretending it would just disappear, the pain of leaning her head against his shoulder whenever they had show marathons and knowing it was just that, just a momentaneously second of paradise which would never come to fruition. The truth that she knew, that she had always known, coming out scared her more than her words could ever describe them. There’s knowing and there’s saying and sometimes speaking is harder that acknowledging. 

    - Yes and I really don’t ... - her phone ring interrupted her. Her gaze moved slowly across the room, sensing something in the air that felt like tragedy in the end. Without much thought, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen island, putting it up to her ears.

There are moments that the words don’t reach, you hear something but it just doesn’t register, it just doesn’t reach your senses and for Y/N this was one of those moments. The grip on her phone grew lose causing the device to slide off her hand and into the ground which in turn made Jack get up to notice how every single thread of joy seemed to have left her face. Before he could even question what was happening, she rushed up to her door, grabbing her jacket and keys. Jack followed behind the crazed woman who pretty much pulled the door of her car open. 

     - Where are we going? - Jack asked her but she continued to drive. The short ten minute drive seemed to take hours and hours and as the emergency unit of the hospital became clear to Jack, he understood what that call was about. 

She parked the car like a crazy person, immediately jumping off the car, still wearing her pyjamas and slippers which were hidden by her black trench coat. Her heart was beating like a drum as she hit the front desk where a less than bothered nurse was filling her nails and having small talk with her colleagues. 

    - Hi? Sorry, hi. - Y/N knew she sounded desperate but she was. - I got a call about a car crash. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. 

    - Follow me. 

All afternoon doing every little chore the thought of you stays bright. Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left, not going right. I dim the lights and think about you, spend sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or were you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind?

The small noise of beeping woke him from his transe. All around white, nothing but white and if people were right than maybe he was in heaven however as his eyes got accustomed he could see the machines but more than machines, what really frightened him was the vision of Y/N.

   - Hey, darling. - her hand came to caress his face making him wonder if he was seeing her or if she was one of his tired mind’s inventions. 

   - Are you real? - his words were slow and droopy, caused by the high amount of morphine they had injected him with. 

   - Yeah, I’m afraid so. - she gave him a kind smile, hand pushing his messy hair away from his forehead. - Me and Jack were so worried. 

   - I wasn’t high, Y/N. I promise. - he didn’t know what was wrong with him, maybe he didn’t want her to be even more disappointed than she already was with him. 

   - I know, you just had a car crash, darling. You probably have enough morphine in you to put down an elephant. 

   - No, Y/N. I, I got distracted in the road I wasn’t using or drinking or with a girl, you have to believe me. 

   - Frank, darling, I know. You’re in the hospital, you don’t need to apologise to me. I was so worried about you and so was Jack.

   - Jack’s here? 

The girl nodded, pushing the hair away from his forehead once again, leaning to kiss his forehead. He was covered in small cuts caused by small shards of his car’s broken windows and a few gashes which she just couldn’t look at without feeling the tears submerge to her eyes. A sea of guilt was storming in her chest and although her subconcious kept telling her this would never be her fault, it was merely a car crash, her heart told her something else. Friday night. Gossip Girl night when Frank would bake the only thing he could without setting the kitchen on fire, mozarella and tomato pesto salad, and the two of them would sit down and watch two seasons in one night. If she hadn’t ... She didn’t even wanted to think about it.

Frank on the other hand could see the distinct pain on her features. The pressure of her muscles creasing her soft features, lines by her eyes and lips quivering. It hurt, it just hurt more than he could phantom something would hurt, it hurt more than his wounds, it hurt more than knowing he’d hurt her several times, it hurt to see her so hurt and being able to do absolutely nothing yet that seemed to be a pattern. Frank always did nothing. 

9 YEARS AGO

Valentine’s Day. Again. And Y/N was once again at the same party, the same decorations, the same slow version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” playing in the background, the only thing missing being Jack and Frank. Jack was on a date with a girl named Catherine whom he gushed about all the way through first until last period and Frank, well, Frank was out with a girl named Mandy. Oh Mandy, where to start with Mandy? Y/N hated Mandy. They had been housemates during the first year of university and if there was someone who could get her on her last nerve and consider murder it was her. Not only had she been a nightmare to live with, constantly refusing to clean or do any house chores, eating the food Y/N bought for herself. God, she was an absolute nightmare but Frank was interested in her and therefore Y/N held herself back. 

She sighed ordering a virgin mojito, wanting to remain sober and not get drunk and end up in bed with one of the various frat boys around. Looking at her phone she noticed the hour, 23:20, only forty more minutes of this painful holiday and she could be free from her feeling of loneliness. As she was about to turn off her phone to enjoy her drink, a message fell. Frank. 

“How’s commercial holiday? Found a suitable partner yet?” 

She smiled faintly at the text, finger lingering over his name on the phone.  

“I guess it’s alone commercial holiday for me once again”

She turned off her phone, not wanting to see another text from him, afraid it would be about how well his date was going with the housemate from Hell. Staring at her glass, she mixed the drink using the little heart shaped wood pick. As she took the first sip, the slow version of the song ceased to play and in its place “At Last” started to play because why play actual upbeat songs on a holiday where 50% of the population was miserable.

On that moment she decided she was better off alone in her room rather than in the middle of various single people expecting their fantasy of coupleness to occur. As she picked her clutch and looked for the door, she found Frank coming him, same old beat jacket that had become a trademark over the years. He gave her a little grin, walking towards her. 

      - Couldn’t let you spend Valentine’s alone. - he said before she could even question his appearence at this party. - C’mon, I have some red velvet cupcakes, wine and a blanket. Let’s go to the beach. 

PRESENT

Y/N had remained at the hospital for the two days he had been in, barely catching a second of sleep until tiredness finally beat her and had her sleeping against the uncomfortable hospital chair. The moment she went to sleep was the moment he woke up from his morphine induced sleep, eyes immediately focusing on her and how her hair fell in front of her face as she rested for the first time in two days. He moved slightly in his bed to better stare at her which led her to wake her up with the noise, moving her head upright immediately.

      - You’re awake. - she gave him a sleepy grin, straightening her back. - The doctor said you should be free to go home today. 

     - You should go home, Y/N. - his voice was still somewhat raspy from all the medication they’d been giving him. - I’m really not worth this. 

     - I have nothing better to do besides my neighbours are renovating, so it’s awfully noisy. 

     - Y/N, you really don’t need to be here. 

     - I think that’s the thing, Frank. - she gave him a soft smile, raising from her couch to go stand near him. - I think ... no, I know, I know I’m always gonna be here.

You said you loved me or were you just being kind or am I losing my ... mind?

everything taglist: @connie326​​ @lookiamtrying​

[hannahshattuck]

A Birthday Getaway

Pairing: Bi!TJ Hammond x Reader

A/N: My first prompt for helping @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ clean out the archive. I teared up when I came across this prompt. The B&B is an actual place in West Virginia and I would love to visit. Send in an ask or DM to be part of my taglist. Enjoy! This is gender neutral although if there is a slipup please let me know.

Warnings: angst, slight smut (blowjob), curing, mention of drugs and alcohol, mention of suicide, TJ deserves all the love in the world, 

TJ has always had a hard time finding love. The deep, meaningful connection of love. With being the gay son to a president and having his life mistakes being plastered for all to see, TJ has had many people use his unwanted fame for their own gain. Well that was until he met you.

You were the most kind and selfless person he’s met. He ran into you, literally ran into you, when he was stumbling out of his club. You helped him get to his home and stayed with him until he was fully sober. He cried in your arms when he realized that even though you knew who he was you didn’t take advantage of him in his inebriated state. You two exchanged information and you were the one he called when he needed a savior or someone to talk to so he didn’t make a mistake. After about two years of being friends, TJ confessed that he had feelings for you through tears streaming down his cheeks. That night was spent making love with tears from both of you. 

TJ didn’t celebrate his birthday when he was on his own. He usually spent his birthdays high, drunk, with a hook up, or all the above. This would be the first birthday you spent with him as a couple. You reserved a suit at the Hillbrook Inn and Spa in Charles Town, West Virginia for the two of you for his birthday. You reserved a whole week that way the two of you could relax without feeling rushed. You decided to surprise him with it before the club opened. You worked with him at said club mainly taking care of stuff behind the scenes. 

You walked in and saw TJ stocking up the alcohol behind the bar. Even though his parents believed that owning a club would be detrimental to his recovery, you’ve seen first hand how well he’s been doing.

You leaned on your elbows on the bar, “Hey sweet thang. How’s set up going?” 

TJ turned around and lit up when he saw you, “Hey baby! It’s going good. We’re running low on a few things but we’ll be good for tonight. I made a list so we can make an order tomorrow.” He leaned over and gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Well, you’re gonna have to give the list to someone else because tomorrow morning we’re heading to a B&B in West Virginia for a week for your birthday.” You smiled.

TJ’s jaw dropped, “What?”

“You. Me. Birthday trip. West Virginia.” You could see tears well up in TJ’s eyes and knew in that moment this is the first time anyone has done something like this for him. “Oh baby.” You grabbed his hand. He laid his head down on the arm you weren’t holding and cried. You ran you fingers through his soft, fluffy hair and just let him get his emotions out.

TJ sniffled as his cries subsided, “Really? Just the two of us?” It broke your heart to see how doubtful he was. To know how many people took advantage of him. To know that he most likely didn’t get the love he deserves. To know how many times he’s been ‘just another hook up’.

“Yeah baby boy. Just the two of us.” Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand in comfort. He looked at you and then a teary smile spread across his face. He jumped over the bar and pulled you into a tight hug. You laughed and hugged him tight as well.

“Hey, T. We open in 15.” One of the bouncers yelled across the club. TJ gave him a thumbs up as an acknowledgement. TJ grabbed both sides of your face and pulled you in for a big kiss. You smiled into the kiss knowing this would be the best birthday for him.

The next morning you two got up bright and made the 5 hour drip from D.C. to West Virginia. You drove and let TJ sleep since he had a late night. He woke up as you pulled into the entrance of the B&B. 

TJ gasped, “It’s so pretty.” You giggled as he acted like a little kid in wonder. He probably didn’t get to act like a kid when he was a kid but you didn’t mind. You found a parking spot and got out. He got out as well, jaw still dropped at the sheer beauty of the place. You started to grab yours and TJ’s bags when he snapped out of his wonderment.

“Nooo! Let me grab them!” TJ ran around the car. “You drove! I can get them!” You laughed as he grabbed the two duffle bags out of your hands and swung them over his shoulders. “Let’s go!” He grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the front entrance. You two checked in, got your room, and chilled for a bit before exploring the place.

The day of his birthday he woke up with his dick in your mouth. His hand flew to your hair and tangled his fingers, “Fuck babe.” You kept going until he warned you, “I’m gonna cum.” You doubled down your efforst until he released into your mouth, “Fuck. That’s a way to wake up.”

You swallowed and kissed up his naked chest, “ Happy birthday, baby boy.” A kiss to his lips progressed into a slow make out session. “Today is all about you so we can do whatever you’d like.”

“Does that mean we can stay in bed all day?” TJ smirked.

You giggled and kissed his nose, “If you absolutely wanted to.”

He shook his head, “Nah. I just wanted to know what you would say.”

You playfully slapped his chest and rolled your eyes. You got off him and headed to the shower. “You gonna join me, birthday boy?” TJ scrambled out of bed so fast he felt out of bed. You giggled. He stood and took a step but fell again because you left his boxers around his ankles. You doubled over in laughter as he kicked them off and ran to you carrying you the rest of the way into the shower. 

After a wonderful day of exploring, sex, lunch, more exploring, presentation of gifts, and a wonderful dinner at a nice restaurant you had one last surprise for him. He called the club to make sure everything was running smoothly and you took that moment to set up the bathroom. 

A bubble bath. Candles lit throughout the entire space. Bubbly apple juice because he’s done so well to stay sober and didn’t want to ruin that. Good smelling soaps. Soft towels and warm, fluffy robes. You make sure the water was hot but not scalding and walked out the bathroom just as he hung up.

“Everything is good at the club. What’s on the itinerary now?” TJ walked over to you. You just smiled and grabbed his hand dragging him to the bathroom. He gasped. His eyes took in everything around him as you silently began to strip him. Once he was naked you helped him in the tub and started to wash his body from outside the tub. 

Once his body was cleaned you took off your clothes and climbed in behind him. You got his hair wet and started washing it. Taking your time to run your fingers through his ultra soft hair. He was quiet the whole time but you noticed silent tears streaming down his face when he leaned back against you. You didn’t bring it to attention but instead continued your movements. You grabbed the plastic cup you set aside and started rinsing his hair. After all the soap was out of his hair you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and held him while he cried.

The two of sat there with you placing kisses in his hair and whispering affirmations. Just letting him know you were proud of the choices he made to change his path. How proud you were even though he was dealt a bad hand. How proud you were of in with the success of the club. How proud you were of him in general.

The water started to get cold so you gently sat him up and got out before you helped him out. With your frame wrapped up in one of the robes, you grabbed the other and wrapped it around his tying it at his waist. You grabbed one of the towels and wiped his face of tears and dried his hair. You giggled a bit because of his hair sticking out in many directions which made him smile. You walked him over to the bed, pulled the blankets back, and pulled him into bed with you. TJ laid on your chest as you cuddled him nails scratching against his scalp. 

“That’s the first time anyone has be gently with me. It wasn’t sexual. It’s wasn’t for drugs. It was just-” He trailed off not knowing how to describe it.

“I know baby.” And you did. You’ve seen the aftermath of what non-gentle touches have caused.

“Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if I didn’t fuck up so much. Maybe my parents and Dougie would be proud of me. Maybe my mistakes wouldn’t be broadcasted for everyone to judge. Maybe if my suicide attempts worked people might say nice things about me.”

That last phrase set you off, “Thomas James Hammond,” you sat up pulling him up with you, “You know how I feel about you talking like that. I know how sucky life was to you. I’ve been with you through a lot of it. But there are people who are proud of you. Hell, I’m so damn proud of you there are no words in any language that can describe the feeling. You’ve managed to push through the worst life has thrown at you and come out on top. I love you so damn much it hurts every single time you doubt your accomplishments. I know none of what I said will change your mind overnight but I will keep telling you everything and anything until the end of time.” You lifted his head to look at you, “I love you so, so much Thomas James.”

You pulled him into a teary kiss. When you pulled back you saw a small smile grace his face. “There’s that smile I love so much.” That caused a bigger smile. You kissed his nose and he scrunched his face. You pulled him to lay back down and cuddled him close. You laced your fingers with his and laid in silence. After a few more silent moments, TJ looked up at you.

“Thank you making this the best birthday.”

Tags: @patzammit​ @sherlocksmanwatson​ @katiew1973​ @bugsbucky​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​

[writtenonnapkins]

The New Girl Pt. 2!!

Credit for Universe goes to @lumosinlove

TW: Drunk stories and closeted experiences 

Unfortunately, it turns out Remus wasn’t a secret drag queen in college, rather it was Tonks that brought a reluctant Remus with her. That doesn’t mean the pictures of an exasperated Remus surrounded by drag queens and kings weren’t going to be used as teasing material later though.

“I only went because Dora loved it, I think we can all agree it is not really my crowd,” Remus joked, taking Tonk’s phone away from the grabby hands of the team.

 “Common Loops, you looked like you were right at home!” James said, nudging him playfully. Remus just rolled his eyes and stood to take some of the plates to the kitchen. The dinner was mostly over by now, except for Tonks who had spent most of the meal telling increasingly wild stories about her and Rem’s times at the drag club. 

Everyone seemed full and happy, both from the food and the fact that Tonks fit right into the dynamic of the group. They had been worried, some more than others *cough cough Logan*, that she wouldn’t fit in and the easy family dynamic would be lost. 

Their concern was for nothing though, as Tonks took to their ribbing and humor like a fish to water. It also helped that she knew more about how to embarrass Re than anyone else. Already she had Remus blushing more than they had seen him do in weeks.

“Aw Remy, you loved it because you love me. Everyone thought you were so chivalrous, catering to all my whims,” Tonks threw over her shoulder despite the food she was stuffing in her mouth. 

A few people around the large table exchanged glances. Well that sounded like it had romantic undertones. 

Remus reentered the room once again rolling his eyes in Tonks’s direction. 

“Yes, yes. Drag shows, helping with your cosplay, dying your hair. I was the best boyfriend in the whole athletic dorm, what a tragedy we didn’t stay together,” Remus said sarcastically like it was something they had heard many times.

Sirius felt like his brain was rebooting. Remus had a girlfriend in college? And she was now living with them and Remus didn’t tell him? And they used to be roommates? 

Now Sirius wasn’t the jealous type, he knew Remus loved him and neither one was interested in sharing. And from what he’d seen, vibes between Tonks and Remus were more like siblings than romantic. But still, it seems like something Re would have told Sirius about. They had even talked about experiences they had in the bedroom and he was certain a girl was never brought up in relation to Remus. 

Sirius looked away from Remus and noticed James looking between the two of them a bit concerned. Mother hen. He was probably trying to figure out if he needed to get everyone to leave so they could talk. 

Everyone else in the room was silent, still taking in this new information so Sirius just shrugged at James before turning back to where Tonks and Remus looked to be talking with their eyebrows. 

“You guys dated?” Sirius broke the silence.

“Technically no,” Tonks said, turning away from her eyebrow conversation. “But also technically yes.”

Well that wasn’t helpful. 

Remus, who seemed to read the confusion on everyone's faces, sighed before clarifying.

“Tonks was my beard. And I was hers. Easiest way to avoid questions was to be in a relationship. Jeez, not like either one of us could come out.”

“Bestie beards,” Tonks chirped, “Big thing in student athlete circles, at least when we were there. Dorcas dated Peter, Mary dated Evan. Everyone was actually gay and hiding it.”

They explained with oddly fond tones how their friend circle at college was mostly closeted kids, yet their friend group had a reputation for serial dating in their friend group. 

“Except for us, the ship of the hockey, tennis, and soccer departments. Best couple goals four years running,” Tonk said punching Remus’s shoulder. 

“Jeez the amount of condolence messages I got from people after you came out and started dating Fleur. We had been “broken up” for a year, it was sad.”

Everyone started teasing them and asking more and more questions about their life as a gay straight couple. The memories seemed fond, but both of them looked like they wished they had been able to be open then. Tonks joked about how she honestly didn’t know how people didn’t pick up on the fact that she was so, so lesbian when she dragged Remus to drag shows, cut her hair into a pixie cut and then dyed it bright purple. 

Everyone moved into the living room as Tonks continued to share about their life in college. 

“Our first kiss was disgusting. Awful,” Tonk lamented.

“Aw Loops, hadn’t learned how to kiss yet had you?” Talker teased much to everyone’s amusement. Remus just laughed, cringing at the memory. 

Apparently they had been two rooms down from each other in the CoEd athletic suites. They hit it off immediately, and like the closeted college freshman they were, decided to kiss and see what happened. It was, for obvious reasons, unsatisfactory for the both of them. 

They decided that they both were definitely, definitely gay. But since they were athletes and being gay in a college locker room at that point was still a big big taboo, they figured they would just tell people they were dating. At that point they had already been hanging out during most of their free time and were in the same major so it was an easy transition. People had been asking them if they were hooking up anyway, might as well use it.

“We got better at kissing when in public eventually,” Tonks concluded, “Especially when we were both wasted!”

Ah yes. Finally. The drunk stories.

Remus, however, seemed hesitant to allow those stories to be told. Tonks was getting a wicked gleam in her eyes and looked like she knew she was going to enjoy this. Oh yes, Sirius thought, these stories were about to be gold. 

“He used to kiss me every time he was about to do something dangerous or generally frowned upon,” Tonk started. “Especially throwing himself onto tables, stripping, fighting especially.”

“Fighting?” Natalie questioned, “Remus was a fighter?”

“Oh was he a fighter!” Tonk exclaimed, turning back to look at Remus who had a sheepish look on his face. “They don’t know about you fighting!?”

“I have grown up you know,” Remus mutters, knowing that she wasn’t really looking for and answer.

“Remus used to fight everything that even slightly insulted any of his friends. That boy would launch himself head first into so many fights I lost track,” Tonks said, “And he would do damage too, All those hockey muscles. Don’t let the thin frame fool you, Remy is all muscle and he knew how to use it, my god. He would deck anyone who said anything about my hair without thinking about it. Little demon he is.”

Everyone was definitely shocked by this revelation. The Remus they knew was not one to fight people, especially physically. Sirius on the other hand, was a little less surprised. Remus had told him that he used to have an anger problem before his shoulder got torn apart, tending to use his fists first. 

Sirius expected Remus to look upset about what Tonks was telling everyone, he had been when telling Sirius about his past anger problems, but Re just looked amused at the reactions of everyone in the room.

“Just to clarify, I do not fight nor do I want to fight anymore. However I find the surprised looks on your faces when she said I would win very insulting,” Remus joked with everyone.

The tension in the room broke and everyone started laughing and asking about Re’s past as a jock asshole who defended his fake girlfriend to the death. 

The rest of the night passed with laughter and many more stories exposing Remus for the wild child he was in college. Tonks was a very entertaining storyteller, and her and Re’s friendship had clearly not been diminished by distance.

The whole team left feeling like they knew their new teammate better having learned about his life before Gryffindor. And they were very much so looking forward to seeing Tonks and Remus interact at work when they had to be professional with each other as PT and player. Already there seemed to be a rivalry between the two about Loops trying to be his own PT and Tonks not letting him.

Everyone was feeling much more confident with having a new PT now that they had met Tonks. And the possibilities of more embarrassing Remus stories certainly didn’t hurt their excitement either. 

[noladyme]

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 11

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tags (let me know if you want on the list) @wonderlandfandomkingdom @edonaspanca​

11

We went back into the clubhouse shortly after – having spent a while holding each other; and calming ourselves down. Clay saw the scratch on Jax’s face; and looked at me, before turning to my old man. “We good here?”, he grumbled. Jax sneered at him. “What do you think?”, he said. “Let’s just finish this”.

They disappeared into the meeting room; joined by the rest of their brothers. The door was closed behind them; and the drapes blocked my view of the room. I let out a deep breath; and went to gather my thoughts in a corner. Guns. Heroin. Prison. Death… Gemma came over to hand me Abel. “Cat…”, she began. “Not now, Gem’”, I said quietly. She nodded, and walked away. The broken-nosed porn-star came over and handed me a mug of coffee. I drank it in silence.

Church was short. The door opened; and the guys came out of the room; somber expressions on their faces. Jax sent me a knowing look. The vote passed. I didn’t know how to react. I repeated be strong, in my mind – like a mantra – but I couldn’t help but feel like I would begin screaming at any point.

I handed Abel to Lyla; and walked outside. Sitting down by a picnic-table; I put my head between my knees; breathing deeply. My heart was pounding so hard; I didn’t notice Clay sitting down next to me. “Gemma said you did good in there”, he muttered. “You’ll be a great queen someday”. “Not for a while; I’m sure”, I said; trying to keep my voice calm. Clay sighed. “Jax fill you in?”. I nodded. “We need this”, he said. I scoffed. “You care what I think?”, I said. “You already took the vote”. He shrugged. “Jax does”, he said. “You are the tipping point of most of his decisions these days… I want to make sure we’re on the same page”.

His cold voice sent chills down my back; but I couldn’t bend over and take it from this man. “You don’t know me, Clay. Not really. And I don’t know you”. I clenched my jaw in suppressed anger. “But what I’ve seen so far… You – your decisions – they scare the shit out of me. I’m worried about Jax; and I’m worried about our boy”. “You have nothing to worry about”, he said; trying for earnest.

I turned and looked hard into his eyes. “You’re the president of this club… and I’m sure you could snap me like a twig if you wanted to”, I said. “But if you hurt Jackson – or Abel – in any way… I’ll kill you myself”. He nodded. “Fair enough”.

Jax and Tig joined us; and Jax frowned at Clay, before looking at me. “Everything all right here?”, he said. “Your old lady just threatened my life”, Clay smiled. “I’m liking her better and better every minute”. “Time to go”, Tig said. Clay nodded; and he and Tig went to their bikes.

Jax got up close to me; and lifted my chin with his index finger. “Together…”, he whispered. “Together”, I nodded. He kissed my lips softly; and went to join the others.

“Tig!”, I called after the black-haired biker. “When you come back… there’s a chick with a broken nose in there. I promised her your dick for the night”. Tig grinned. “My penis is at your disposal, my lady!”.

They drove out of the lot; and I closed my eyes – letting out a deep sigh.

---

The next few hours passed in a haze. I was constantly checking my phone for any word from Jax – fighting the urge to take Abel; and run away.

Gemma hovered over me; having crow-eaters and porn-stars – some of them one and the same – bringing me food and trying to cheer me up. I politely turned them away; not able to eat or drink before I saw Jax again.

Opie joined me at my table; lighting a cigarette for me. “I haven’t told Lyla”, he muttered. “Can I ask you to do the same?”. I chewed my lip. “Why?”, I asked. “She’s not as strong as you”, he said. “I have to… protect her. She has a past with coke”. I nodded. “It’s not my place, Opie. But you need to figure out, if you want to start a marriage on a lie”. Opie frowned. “Yeah… I know”.

We sat in silence for a bit. “You hear from the hospital? Phil?”, I asked. “He’s conscious. The fat took most of the blow”, Opie chuckled. “We owe him a patch…”. “You do”, I agreed. “Ope…?”. “Yeah?”. “Chibs talked about retaliation… What did you do, to get you into this?”.

Opie looked around for people listening. He swallowed. “We’ve been laying it pretty hard on The Nords”, he muttered. “Trying to keep drugs out of Charming… That body that was dumped at Cara Cara; it wasn’t our kill – but whoever left it; wanted to make it seem that way”. I frowned. “Do you have any idea who might have done it?”. Opie shook his head. “Let’s just say, there is more than one reason for Jax to dislike this deal with those alt-right guys”, he said. “And I agree”.

At nightfall, there was a rumbling of bikes outside; and soon after Tig, Clay and Jackson where walking through the doors. Jax came in last; and made a beeline for me – pulling me into his arms. “It’s over, Cat”, he whispered into my ear. “It’s done. We can go home”. I exhaled; not truly in relief – more like exhaustion. “Is it, though?”, I muttered. Jax shook his head slightly. “I hate this shit… hate what we’re doing”, he said. “But we’re safe. For now”. I kissed his lips. “Let’s try to stay that way”.

Clay stepped into the middle of the room. “Everybody! We’ve dealt with the situation. Lockdown is over. You’re all free to go home”. There was a mumble of relief among the people in the room. “If you feel unsafe at any point; if you hear word of something off – you let us know. For now… go home. Especially if you have kids. This place is going to be an adults only party in a few minutes”. He grinned; and croweaters and porn-stars alike, began throwing their arms around the necks of bikers everywhere. I noticed Tig dragging miss broken-nose into a corner; and attacking her with deep kisses and sweet words.

Mothers began gathering up their children; and I waved goodbye at Rina – who was still carrying the skateboard around. “Unicorns forever!”, she called out to me; and I grinned; pumping my fist into the air.

I began gathering up my belongings; and walked to the dorm to grab the diaper bag. Jax followed me. “Gemma says she can take the kid; if you want to stay”. I shook my head. “Don’t really feel like celebrating… I need to go home’”, I said quietly. “To clear my head… You can stay”. He took my hand; and pulled me against his chest. “I go where you go. I need to be with you right now”. He looked sad.

I stroked his cheek. “Talk to me”. He frowned. “I feel like shit, Cat”, he said quietly. “I hate what I just agreed to do”. His hands gathered around my back, as if praying. ”We’re not… this. Samcro does some bad shit; but drugs…”. He grimaced. “It makes me sick”. “You can’t end it?”, I asked. He shook his head. “We’re in too deep at this point”, he said. “I gotta pull us out smart”. “You will”, I said; and kissed the corner of his lips.

---

We got our stuff, and headed out to get Abel; and bring him home. The clubhouse had turned from kindergarten to strip club within seconds of the kids leaving. Opie and Lyla had slipped off as well; and Jax gave his mother a kiss goodbye. I smiled at Gemma; and she winked at me. Jax picked up Abel; and we headed outside; leaving behind the music and cheers from the partying crowd.

Outside; Chibs and Bobby were sharing a joint; and muttering silently amongst each other. “We’re going home”, Jax said. “You all right after that, Jackie?”, Chibs said. “It is what it is”, Jax muttered; and hugged his brother – letting the scot stroke Abels cheek. “We’ll talk later”. “This isn’t good, VP”, Bobby said. Jax sighed. “You know how I feel, Bobby”, he said. “Let’s just get through this”.

A dark escalade drove in to the lot – Stahl getting out of the passenger seat to greet us. “Mr. Teller!”, she smiled. “I came in to get my car checked out yesterday. Was told you were shut down”. “Come back tomorrow”, Jackson said tiredly. Stahl grinned. “Well, seeing as I’m already here; I might as well take care of some business”.

The bubble of rage and frustration in my chest burst; and I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Get your skinny ass back in that car; and drive away. Now!”, I demanded. Stahl looked at me with surprise. “Well, that was rude, Catherine!”, she said. “I’m just having a conversation with your old man”. “Bullshit. You’re trying to cause trouble; because you want to push him into doing something, you can bring him in on… What is your obsession with Jackson?”, I said. “Are you jealous? You want him?”. She scoffed; and looked towards Jax. “Please…”. I smirked. “Maybe it’s me you want. Is that it?”. I bit my lip. “Sweetheart, believe me; I swing every which way – but I do prefer my ladies with a little less Botox”. I heard Jax stifle a laugh behind me. “Let’s go, babe”, he said; and began moving towards my car.

Stahl’s smile disappeared. “No, kitty-girl is coming with us”, she said. “We’re bringing her in for questioning regarding the murder of Joshua Kohn”. Jax’s face dropped; and I froze in place. “You’re what?”, he croaked. “You’re arresting her?”. Stahl shook her head. “No, not yet… we’re still unclear on which one of you, to charge”.

I tried to collect myself. “I’m not talking to you without my lawyer”, I snarled. Chibs was on his phone behind me; trying to get a hold of Lowen. “Well, we’ll make sure you’re safe and sound until she arrives. Come along”. A suited agent stepped out of the car; and walked over to me; grabbing my arm. Jax tried to step between us – Abel beginning to whimper in his arms. “Don’t touch her. You can’t do this!”. “Oh, but I can”, Stahl smiled.

“Lowen is in San Fran’”, Chibs said. “Can’t be here until tomorrow afternoon”. Bobby took Jax’s place between me and the agent; letting Jax cuddle a crying Abel. “Step away from her; before someone gets hurt”, Chibs said. “Assaulting a federal agent is illegal as well; Scottie”, Stahl said. “I don’t think doctors give notes for that”.

I collected myself. “I’ll come down to the police station tomorrow. With my lawyer”. Stahl shook her head. “No can do, honey”, she said. “You might make a run for it”. I ripped my arm from the agents grasp; and stepped over to Jax – taking Abel from his arms. “I don’t think you understand the meaning of family, agent Stahl”, I said calmly.

I walked away from her; and went to my car; strapping in my stepson in his car seat. Jax sent me a knowing look; and walked to his bike. “I’ll have someone watching the house tonight”, Stahl called after me. “Make sure you’re safe until our meeting tomorrow… there are criminals around, you know”.

Jax turned to face her again. “I’d ask you to blow me; but I’m like my old lady”, he smiled sarcastically. “The Botox hasn’t done you any favors, sweetheart”. He got on his bike; and followed my car out of the lot.

---

“Are they still out there?”, I asked Jax – after having tucked Abel in, in his nursery about an hour later. Jackson was by the kitchen window; looking outside. “Two cars… down the road”. He gestured towards a pair of expensive looking suburbans parked a little way off. I sighed frustratedly. Jax stroked my cheek. “You’re ok, baby”, he said. “They can’t touch you without Lowen present. You’ll sleep in your own bed tonight”.

“My own bed”, I smiled. “Still sounds weird”. “Weird good, or bad?”, Jax asked. I bit my lip. “As long as I’m sharing it with you; it’s very good”.

Jax grinned; and leaned in to mold his lips to mine. His hand traveled down my side; and he tugged at the hem of my tank-top. I opened my lips; letting his tongue find mine for a second; before I pulled back. “They’re watching…”, I whispered; and looked out the corner of my eye towards the cars outside. Jax smirked. “Let’s give them a show”, he whispered; and grabbed my bottom; lifting me up to sit on the kitchen counter; with my back to the window.

Blood rushed to my core; and I gasped. Jax pressed his growing erection towards my warmth; and I realized it had been days since I’d had him inside me. “Jax…”, I rasped; and jumped a little; when his lips traveled to the secret spot on my neck. He ran his teeth over it gently; and I heard him chuckle at my responsiveness to his touch. “I’m here, darlin’”, he breathed. His lips moved down to my left breast; nibbling gently at the fabric of my top; tweaking my nipple through it and my bra. “And I’m here too…”. I gasped hard; when he unbuttoned my jeans; sliding two fingers down the waistline of my panties; tugging at my pubic hair. “And here”, he whispered; and pulled me of the counter. He pulled down my jeans and panties; leaving them hanging around my ankles, so I couldn’t walk.

He set me back up on the countertop; and slid his fingers between my warm, wet folds. I was shaking from excitement and lust; and I grabbed on to Jax’s neck – pulling him in for a heated kiss. My lower body was hidden from the agents outside, by the low hanging curtain in front of the window; exposing my nakedness only to Jax. All they could see, was my back; and how it arched against his touch. Even as I was sitting elevated on the counter; Jackson still managed to tower over me somehow. His stance was tall and proud; and he looked at me like I was a precious work of art. His index finger flicked my clit; sending a jolt through my body; from the delicious sensation. He bit his lip; and sent me a devilish grin. “Showtime”, he breathed; and dove two fingers into me; before sinking to his knees; and burying his face in my warmth.

I cried out. Jackson’s tongue slid all over my folds; lapping me up – before sucking hard at my clit; and crooking his fingers, rubbing my g-spot with just the perfect amount of pressure. I threw my head back; and moaned. Jax let go of my nub. “They still watching?”, he grinned up at me. “Why?”, I croaked. “Are you considering putting on the nipple tassels?”. He growled slightly; and attacked my clit again.

My legs began shaking, as Jackson pushed hard against my front wall; and before long, I saw the sun, moon, and the stars all at once. My walls clenched around Jax’s fingers; and I made a sound somewhere between a mewl and a scream. Jackson was relentless; insistent on drawing out my pleasure; and I pulled his hair hard to get him to let go of my nub.

Jax stood up, and wiped his face. “Living room. Christening. Now!”. He yanked my jeans and panties all the way off; and I got off the counter. Jax pulled me in for a deep kiss; and looked behind me; at the agents in the cars outside. He sent them the middle finger; and walked towards the living room – pulling me with him.

I pulled off my top and bra; and suddenly had a very insistent biker latched on to my nipple. Jax turned me around; and smacked my ass cheek. “Couch. All fours”, he snarled; and removed his t-shirt. His heaving chest let me know he was not messing about. “Yes, sir”, I smiled sweetly; and got into position.

I heard Jax’s belt unbuckle, and a silent thud; when his pants hit the floor. I looked back at him; and bit my lip; as he removed his boxers – exposing his throbbing erection. “Hard or soft?”, he asked. “Any way you want it”, I smiled. He smirked for a second; before hardening his expression. “Eyes front, baby”. I looked forwards; and waited.

It seemed like an eternity, before he made a move. It was so quiet; and for a second I was afraid he’d left the room – when suddenly his blunt tip probed my entrance; and he slammed into me with a groan. His hands grabbed my hips; and he began thrusting hard into me. “I think I got bigger”, he moaned. “No, I just got tighter”, I retorted. He laughed, and smacked my ass again.

“I’m gonna marry you some day”, he chuckled. I looked over my shoulder at him, and smiled. “I might let you”.

---

Just after noon the next day; Jax and I were seated at the kitchen table with Lowen. “Good news”, Lowen said. “They found Kohns bag in a motel room”. I frowned. “My motel?”. “He’d been staying two doors down from you”. I shuddered at the thought. “What was in the bag?”, Jax asked. Lowen opened a file-folder. “GPS-locators; addresses and files in relation to your old job, and your new one”. She handed me prints of pictures. “These are images of you from both Chicago and Charming. Apparently, he had a camera set up in the air conditioner”. I riffled through the photos, letting Jackson look at them with me. “Shit”, I muttered.

Lowen nodded. “I decided to forego looking at them. I’ve been told some of them shows you and Jackson… well, you can see for yourself”. Jax took one of the pictures from my hand. “At least he got my good angle”, he said. The picture he was holding, showed me straddling Jackson; head thrown back in the throes of passion; and Jax’s face grimacing in extasy, as he held on to my breasts. I took the piece of paper back from him, and put it down on the table – backside up.

“Everything points towards your story of him stalking him, being true”, Lowen said. “So, self-defense holds up?”, I muttered. Lowen let out a breath. “There was a witness that saw you and Opie outside the cabin; when the shot was fired”, she said. I scoffed. “Great… so what’s the good news?”. “The witness was drunk on moonshine. His testimony won’t hold up well in court”.

I grimaced. “Can’t we avoid a trial all together?”, I asked. “If it’s only hanging on one witness…”. Lowen looked at me earnestly. “I’m quite sure we can keep you out of jail. But Jackson…”, she sighed. “This ATF-business isn’t going to go away. They’re going to keep dragging Cat’s case, to push her to flip on you”. “Not happening”, I said; shaking my head. “They need Jax at the scene, because they don’t have anything else on him. They need Kohn’s death to take him down – and I killed Joshua”. “They don’t have enough on you, yet; Jackson”, Lowen said. “I heard about your lockdown at the club; and you were spotted meeting with members of the alt-right movement… Stahl is gunning for you”. Jax leant back in his chair; and squeezed my thigh. “I’ve always been popular”, he smirked.

Lowen suddenly looked uncomfortable. “There’s something else…”, she said. “Before Stahl springs it on you… It wasn’t just peanuts and shotguns in that escalade with you, Cat. There were also drugs – Rohypnols. And he’d brought some toys”. “Not the fun kind, I gather”, I muttered. “Let’s just say, he had a lot planned for you”, Lowen said.

Jax’s hand slammed into the table. “I should dig that asshole up; and kill him again”, he snarled. “I didn’t hear that”, Lowen said. “Look, I know this is hard to hear; but it all points to you being a victim of kidnapping and attempted rape. You reacted by defending yourself; and killing Kohn in self-defense”.

I chewed my lip. “The witness… is he the one who called it in?”. “No”, Lowen said. “Apparently they were already looking for you”. I furrowed my brow. “Why? No one knew I was gone, but the club”. “My guess; Stahl was in contact with Kohn. He let her know his plans for taking you back to Chicago”. “She knew?”, I croaked. “She knew what he was going to do to me…”. Lowen shook her head. “We can’t prove that”, she said. “For all she knew; Kohn would have simply brought you back east; and let you go”.

I closed my eyes, suddenly dizzy. “She set you up, Jax”, I said quietly. “What do you mean?”, Jackson asked. “She’s the only one, other than you, who knew I was gone”, I said. “She knew you’d kill him; and she needed that to take you in… end club business”.

Lowen began packing up her bag. “You’re going to have to take this sit-down with Stahl”, she said. “Anything else will seem like obstruction of justice”. I nodded solemnly. “Ok”, I whispered. “But I’m sticking to my story”. Lowen shrugged. “That’s up to you, Cat”, she said. “I’ll do what I can to keep you protected legally”. Jax sighed. “Just… keep her out of jail. Whatever it takes”.

“Do you think they’ll keep me? Lock me up?”, I asked. “They can’t”, my lawyer answered. “Not unless they arrest you; or claim it would be a danger to you, to let you go”. She sent Jax a look. “This isn’t going to be Donna all over again”, he snarled. “I’m not letting that happen”. I frowned. “What are you talking about?”, I said. Jax clenched his jaw; and looked at me hesitantly. “Lowen”, he said. “Could you give us a minute?”. “I have a few calls to make, anyway”, Lowen smiled. She got up; and left the kitchen.

I took a deep breath; and looked at Jax. “What happened?”. “This ain’t the first time Stahl has caused trouble for us”, he said. “She set up Opie – made it look like he snitched… that’s how he lost Donna”. I felt cold all over. Jax read my expression; and took my hand. “Cat… that’s not an issue here. After what you did for me – for us – with Kohn… no one doubts your loyalty”. I was not soothed by his words. “You’re telling me, the club had Donna killed?”. Jax looked pained. “It’s not… it’s over. We’ve moved beyond it”. I frowned. “You’ve moved beyond it?”, I sneered. “Opie? That was the mother of his children!”. “I know”, Jax said quietly. “And he’ll get his retaliation on Stahl. Somehow”. I scoffed. “She didn’t pull the trigger…”. “She might as well have”, Jax scowled. He stood up; and pulled me to my feet. “That woman… plunged a knife into the heart of my club. She had my best friends wife killed… and it looks like she’s doing an encore on you”. I shuddered. “Am I… will that happen to me?”. Jax shook his head; and pulled me into his arms; leaning his face into the crook of my neck. “I will never let that happen”, he whispered.

Lowen appeared in the doorway. “Cat? I’m sorry; but we need to go”. My hands were shaking; but I nodded. “Ok”, I whispered. “Let’s do this”.

---

An hour later I was seated in an interview-room; Lowen at my side – and Stahl seated in front of me; with a smug smile on her face. “Thank you for coming, Catherine”, the agent said. “I had hoped we could have this meeting sooner; but I had a Botox-appointment”.

“Can you get to the case?”, Lowen said. “Why are we here?”. Stahl shrugged. “Well, I don’t know why you are here”, she said. “Your client is not under arrest… yet. I just want to have a conversation with her”. Lowen smiled. “Then; we’ll just be on our way”, she said. “My client has already given her statement; and you can’t hold her”. “I can, and I will; if I deem it necessary for her safety”, Stahl sneered; before looking towards me. “And I think it might be… Cat; do you know what Jackson Teller does for a living?”. I shrugged. “Mechanic… small business owner”, I said.

Stahl opened a file. “That business you’re talking about… are you aware it involves gun- and drug-trafficking?”. I raised my brows in an exasperated expression. “I’m an old lady. I don’t know anything”. “Hmm…”, Stahl sighed. “That house he has you kept in… you think auto-parts payed for that?”. “I’m not kept”, I snarled. “No?... Who pays the bills right now? It’s not your teachers-salary”. I leant back in my chair. “No, Kohn saw to that”, I said. “Did you help him?”. Lowen put a hand on my shoulder. “Cat… not now”. Stahl grinned. “No; I want to hear this… Are you suggesting I somehow helped agent Kohn in his actions towards you?”.

Lowen smiled. “So you agree… Kohns actions towards my client were severe; and bad enough for her to have to act in self-defense, and kill him”. Stahl sighed. “It is beginning to seem like that”, she said. “But if you think for a second that you’re safer with Teller; you are mistaken”. I scoffed. “Stop beating around the bush”, I said. “Am I being charged with murder?”.

Stahl stuck out her chin. “I can’t prove that you killed him in cold blood… in fact, we can’t find evidence, that you killed him at all”. Her face darkened. “You weren’t even in the room when he died”. I clenched my jaw. Lowen cleared her throat. “Get to the point, Stahl”. The agent looked at me seriously. “You’re bedding a murderer, Catherine”, she said. “Jax came in to that cabin, and killed Kohn; for taking you away from him… you’re a popular girl, kitty”.

I swallowed bile at her use of the nickname. “Let’s say he was… how would he know where to find me?”, I said. “I didn’t leave any clue as to where I was going…”. Stahl narrowed her eyes. “Someone must have told him”, she answered coldly. “Huh…”, I said. “And how did you know where I was? How did you even know that I was gone?”.

The agent didn’t answer – she hadn’t expected me to be able to put the dots together. “Agent?”, I said. “You say I’m in danger… help me understand how I ended up here”. “I can help you”, Stahl said. “Get you out of this clean… I just need your cooperation”. I leant in and looked at her menacingly. “Is that what you told Donna?”, I hissed. Stahl looked taken aback for a second. “Donna… was a good woman”, she said. “What happened to her… it shouldn’t have”. “No… that, we can agree on”, I responded. “Putting someone in a situation, that ends in a person’s death…”. Stahl pulled a face. “We talking about Donna, or Jax?”, she challenged. I tilted my head. “You tell me…”.

Stahl realized she’d over-spoke. “We’re done. This is your last chance. Tell me what really happened; Catherine – you can go home… re-start your life”. I smiled. “Oh, I’m going home. To my man and my step-son”. I stood up, and walked towards the door; Lowen at my heels. “This is our last meeting”, I said. “Anything else you have to say; can go through my lawyer”. “You’re playing with a dangerous man, Catherine!”, Stahl called after me.

I turned to look at her; smirking. “We play many games, agent”, I said. “The agents you had watching the house last night, can probably attest to that”.

We left the police station; and I took a deep breath. Bitch… you’re going down.

---

Lowen dropped me off at TM. I went straight into the clubhouse; and up to the bar. “Rat… drink”, I demanded. “What kind?”, the prospect asked. “Top shelf. Strong”.

Jax came out of the meeting room with Clay. He almost sprang over to me. “What happened?”, he asked. “She messed up… that’s what happened”, I growled. “What are you talking about, teach’?”, Clay asked. “She pretty much straight up admitted that she put Jax on the scene with me and Kohn”, I said. “You think she’s the one who contacted Darby? Told him?”, the president said. I shrugged. “I don’t know… but it’s pretty clear she’s used to setting people up”.

Jax ran a hand down his face. “That bitch…”, he snarled. I shook my head. “This is my fault”, I muttered. “I should have stayed. If I hadn’t left with Kohn… you’d have never had to come get me”. He took my hand. “No… Catching me at that meth-lab would have put me in almost as deep”, he grumbled. “It wasn’t exactly deserted when we got there… we left a few bodies in our wake… One of the reasons Happy had to burn it down”.

Clay let out a deep breath. “All right”, he proclaimed. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Give my best to Laroy”. Jax nodded; and Clay left the clubhouse.

I chewed my lip for a second; resolving to ask Jax something that had been on my mind, since he got back from his meeting the day before. “Baby, can I ask you something?”. He looked at me earnestly. “Anything…”, he said. “Rat, get lost”. The prospect ran off. “What’s up, darlin’?”. I took a deep breath. “Chibs mentioned the lockdown being due to retaliation…”, I began. “I asked Opie about it. He mentioned the dead body at Cara Cara”. Jax frowned. “Yeah… It was Darby’s cousin… our cousin-brother. I don’t know what that white trash group gets in to when they’re not dealing”. I smiled slightly at his joke. “You think that alt-right group did it?”, I said. “Pushing you to work with them; by creating a reason to attack you?”. He clenched his jaw. “I can’t prove it…”.

“Shit…”, I sighed. “It feels like my head is about to explode”. He pulled me into his arms. “Let me take you home”, he breathed. “Neeta’s dropping off Abel in an hour”. I frowned. “You have to come back here?”. He stroked my cheek. “Yeah… we have a drop in Oaktown tonight. It’ll be a late one”. I couldn’t help but pout. “Ok…”, I muttered. “I can have Rat with you; if you’re uncomfortable alone…”, he said. I shook my head. “Not the company I’d hoped for tonight”, I said – looking at him through my lashes. Jax grinned in surprise. “I thought you’d be tuckered out from your meeting”, he said. I slid a hand under the hem of his shirt; slightly touching the skin of his lower back. He let out a soft breath from my touch. “Just a little… I have a few rounds left in me”, I smiled.

Jax put his lips to mine; sliding his tongue between my lips to meet mine – and pushing his groin towards me. “I’ll be home to take care of you as soon as I can”, he whispered. “I’ll make it a soft one this time…”. “Not too soft”, I smirked. He pushed against me harder, sending a jolt through my loins. “That’s impossible, babe”, he grinned.

---

I spent the rest of the day caring for Abel. He was teething; and being especially fussy. I calmed him down with a teething ring I’d been keeping in the freezer; and the baby was finally fell asleep around midnight.

I was exhausted; but at the same time giddy to spend some quality-time with my man. The house was hot as hell; and I reminded myself to talk to Jax about getting an air-conditioner. I took a shower, and put on some perfume and a robe. I tried putting on some makeup; but almost stabbed myself in the eye with my mascara; giving up. A bit of lipstick would have to do.

At 1 am; my eyes were drooping. Jax hadn’t checked in; and I decided to just go to bed – a little disappointed, and very sexually frustrated. I fell asleep almost instantly, on top of the covers; only wearing my robe.

Something slid up my inner thigh; and I jolted. “Shh, baby. It’s me”, Jax whispered. “Just lay still…”. I blinked; and met his eyes in the darkness. “Jax…”, I breathed. He opened the belt of my robe; and ran his hand down my chest and belly. “You want to go back to sleep?”, he whispered; and kissed me just above my bellybutton. I bit my lips; and shook my head. Jax grinned.

“Just lay back and relax”, he breathed. He pulled of his shirt and t-shirt; before leaning down to gently blow at my left, then right nipple. They both responded by perking instantly; from the cold air hitting them. Jax’s warm mouth enveloped the left one; as his fingers worked the right one. I was already breathing shakily.

Jax removed his pants and boxers; and laid down next to me. I felt his hardness against my thigh; as he put his leg over my right one – pulling at it to spread me open for him. I turned my head to face him; sighing in contentment. “You’re tired… maybe we should wait until tomorrow”, he smirked. I pouted. “No… wake me up…”, I begged. Jax grinned; and ran his hand down my torso again; ending up running his fingertips through my pubes. I yawned. “Really?”, Jackson scoffed. He slid his index finger over my clit. I jolted. “That’s better…”.

His lips found the sweet spot on my neck; and I bit my lip. Without entering me with his fingers; he continued working on my nub; making my whole body tingle deliciously. Jax warm breath against my skin made me shiver. He put his arm behind my head; holding me to him. I began panting – letting out little squeaks from delight. “My favorite sound”, Jax snickered. Suddenly it felt like my vagina went poof; and I came from his touch. “There we go”, he grinned; and moved his finger from my clit to his mouth – tasting me. I put my hand behind his neck; and kissed him passionately.

Jackson; crawled over me; placing himself between my legs. He slid into me with a quiet moan. “Talk to me, baby”, he whispered. “This good?”. “Mmhmm”, I breathed. “It’s good…” Jax chuckled. “You’re half way asleep”, he smiled. “Don’t stop”, I said.

Jax thrusted in to me a bit harder. I gasped. I slid my arms around his; feeling the movements of his muscles under his skin. I panted softly; and let out small mewls into the crook of his neck. Jax kissed me again; before speeding up his movements. “Give me one… just one”, he panted. I smiled; and clenched my muscles around him; making him groan. He came inside me; his sounds of release pulling me with him; and I clenched again – involuntarily.

Rolling on to his back; Jax pulled me with him, so I was laying on top of him. “I love you, sleepyhead”, he whispered.

I fell asleep with him inside me.

---

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Valerie birthday headcannons

I’ll do headcannons for this, cause my brain burn out on my last fic and I need new ideas for the next. So enjoy!

The boys wanted to throw a surprise party for her. They got together and agreed to keep her busy the whole day to prepare, even the staff were in on this. But....

Tbh she actually forgot her birthday.

She was so busy with school, and running Crowley’s errands it slipped her mind.

So she thought nothing when Trey asked her to paint the roses, or when Vil dragged her to Pomefiore to test a his new line of skin care products.

Preparations are done now all they had to do is wait for the birthday girl...

Speaking of said girl, she was with Malleus, arms filled with ice cream. She invited him to watch movie and he happily obliged.

Along the way they ran into Amane, who decided to visit her.

“Amane, good to see you!” “You too Sugar tits.” *Thunder*”

Dragon boi was not please to her that vulgar name.

But Amane was please to see his physique *wolf whistles*

She invited him to go and watch the movie with them, he agreed. Once she was few feet from hearing range he whispered to him

“So... what’s your d*ck size?”

He zapped the poor demon.

Once they got there she nearly dropped the ice cream as everyone got out of their hiding places.

“Happy birthday!” “Who’s birthday?”

Silence

Valerie just stared at them puzzled, while the other were just as confused. Everyone just looked at her if she was joking. Epel was first to speak

“Valerie today’s your birthday isn’t’ Oct 3?”

It took her a while to process, before the realization dawned  to her face.

“Oh, oh! my birthday, yeah I.. really forgot about it.

“You spent too much time with Potatoes 1 and 2″ “Hey!”

She loved the party! The food was amazing thanks to Trey, Jade and Jamil. Lilia offered to cooked too but Silver banned him

She stuffed her face with so many cinnamon rolls she looked liked a chipmunk, which Cater took a pic. 

Vil and Riddle scolded her for her eating but secretly thought it was cute

She got a LOT of gifts from her friends and some from the other students of Night Raven, which she found sweet.

Malleus was happy to invited for once, but was sad that he didn’t bring her a present, but she assured him it’s fine.

Amane however knew the perfect present.

“Hey Val after this, let’s go to a strip club!” “What’s that?”

RIP Amane

The innocent one did not know what he was saying, while everyone else tried to kill him, Ace even tried to throw holy water at him. Idia had to begged Ortho to not look it up

After the party, she just laid in bed with Grim snoring on her chest

Best birthday ever.

[h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e]

State of Mind [B.H. x you]

Request: @lemonypink​

Inspiration: Rock Me by Great White

Word Count: 2253 Warnings: profanity.

Written Date: 12/27/19-1/1/20 Posted Date: 1/1/2020

[MASTERLIST]

Dating Billy was like dating one of the many attractive rockstars plastered on the pale walls of your bedroom, except only with slightly less screeching girls and more bloody knuckles. Billy hated when other men, many who are older, would try to propose to you some sort of midnight deal involving money and their hotel rooms and you hated when girls would reach up and twirl bits of his hair or rub the lapels of his jean jacket with their fingers every time you left to get more booze or for a quick bathroom break. 

This was the Sunset Strip, Hollywood’s most popular spot for metal musicians and whores with fishnets that run up the expanse of their thighs, and it was a dangerous combo when the two of you were thrown into the mix. Yet, it was a drug that provided cheap thrills, and you and Billy were just teenagers without a whole lot of money lining your pockets. This was your amusement park. This was where parts of your D.N.A laid to rest. Billy’s too.

They say one loses fifty to about a hundred strands a day and you cannot imagine any other area in Los Angeles, other than your home, that’s collected all 54,750 of your fallen hair since the age of fifteen. No other area’s collected your fingerprints as much or your littered cigarettes. No other venue outside of the Whisky A Go-Go have you and Billy carried out most of your sloppy quickies in the public restroom—usually because Billy dragged you after a guitarist or singer couldn’t keep their eyes off you.

Billy’s jealousy has gotten you guys into more trouble than sometimes it’s worth. You’ve gotten kicked out of clubs for smashing beer bottles against the wall just centimeters away from his target, a musician’s most precious asset—his pouty face. You were surprised that you could count all scuffles Billy’s gotten himself into with band members, some from bands you actually enjoyed watching, on one hand.

You still haven’t forgiven him for banning the two of you from ever attending an L.A. Guns gig again.

“This place blows.” Billy slams his glass on the counter in a huff and the bartender gives him a pointed look before shaking his head to himself.

His attitude tonight was wearing down your placid features faster than a clock counted minutes. And, he’s hardly glanced in your direction to at least make it easier for you to hear him among all the other noise that penetrated your ear drums. 

He slid off the stool and doesn’t apologize when his shoulder shoved into your chin. Sometimes you swore you could wrap your hands around his throat and strangle him.

All the trouble with security and other patrons you both been in hadn’t just been because of his loose tongue and quick fists. No, you were pretty sure you’ve been in more altercations that involved a split lip or black eye than he had. There were too many bimbos that rubbed you the wrong way and too many guys who thought they had a free pass to grope you just because you sometimes wore mini skirts and low-cut tops.

You knew Billy’s itching mood meant you had to turn down alcohol and provide the role of babysitter because if you didn’t, he’d do something that even he’d regret. But, you’ve never been one with much patience. It’s why you hardly knew the three-year-old stranger who lived under your parents’ roof and called you “sissy” in passing. You didn’t feel all that bad for the cold shoulder she often received, your mother and step-father provided plenty of warmth. They preferred her over you anyway.

“Wait up, jerk!” You called after your boyfriend, though he didn’t slow down. You weren’t doubtful that it was due to him ignoring you over simply just not hearing you.

The effort in teasing your hair and painting your face to near perfection had gone to waste so far, but you didn’t mind. The ever prideful girl in a leather skirt and jean jacket, though that alone couldn’t define you.

The bartender’s glare was glued to you, waiting for the payment of Billy’s whiskey glasses. You searched through your pockets, only finding a couple loose bills and some change of mostly pennies you knew wasn’t not nearly enough to cover the tap. You set it on the counter and chased after Billy’s direction before you could be flagged. Luckily some drunk was hassling the bartender for another serving and you caught the wisps of Billy’s dirty-blond locks leaving through the back exit.

Barging through the door, you found Billy already sucking on a Marlboro—your Marlboro.

You marched through the dirty alley. “Hey, stupid, I could’ve gotten arrested back there! I haven’t any money on me you know!” Just inches away from him, you continued, “He knows my freakin’ face.”

“Tough luck.” The smoke harbored in his mouth was blown into your face. 

You swiped at him, knocking his, well, your cigarette on the ground. “I’m so sick of your pointless attitude, Billy. Grow up!”

With a flared nose, Billy scoffed, “Everything’s fuckin’ pointless, babe. Don’t you get it?” The point of his burning finger touched the chilled skin of your chest, pushing you. “You’re pointless.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you don’t mean that.” Focusing on the golden pendant that’s hung around his neck, you could feel the suffocating heat of his blue irises. “Two years can’t just go by and not mean anything,” you mumbled. 

“Yeah? Well, it did!” A bit of his spit landed on your cheek as he puffed a breath down your face. 

You knew this act almost too well. Billy may be the biggest asshole who ever lived, though you knew you stood in a place well below a pedestal to look down upon him, but whenever this sudden bout of anger was directed at you, you knew it was displaced. Billy had a fishermen’s nest worth of loathing in the pit of his stomach, directed at his father and things that couldn’t be undone from the past. 

You’ve spent about 730 days together so far. You weren’t just some cheap date nor an easy lay. Billy’s shown you too much—given you more—to be able to take it back straight out of the blue. Damaged goods. That’s what the two of you were, and he found comfort in the thought that he wasn’t alone.

But, even when your brain knew better, your heart found it difficult to differentiate truth from impulse. And right now, the beating beneath your breast bone was thumping a very low, and foreboding note.

You tongued at the rim of your upper back molar, a nervous habit since preschool, before stating, “I don’t believe you.” 

“Just get out of here!” Billy pointed at the dark street as if you hadn’t rode here as his passenger for the millionth time. “Find your own way home.”

“The hell I’m not,” you ground between your teeth. Your palms met his chest a couple times before he snatched your wrists. 

But, when you glanced up at him, his face was turned into the deeper end of the alleyway. It’s almost too dark to see, but when you squinted you made out the shape of a figure, presumably a guy. And upon closer inspection, you noticed he was about your age. Maybe younger if going by the pudginess of his cheeks. You’d never seen him around before.

“Hey, asshole, what are you staring at?!” Billy’s voice rang in your ear like the beating of heavy church bells, or worse, thunder.

The lone boy looked stuck in a crossfire, and immediately you knew he was in fact younger by a few years based on the softness of his eyes despite the glow of a cigarette between two fingers. Hell, even at fourteen you’d been smoking for at least a year. 

His knee jittered, ready to bounce if Billy proved too big of a menace, but he stood at a dead end. He had no where to go. 

“Billy,” you warned, but Billy had already succumbed to the role of a predator. Tense muscle pulled out of your grasp as he stalked towards the wide-eyed deer. “Billy!”

“That’s it! I’m outta here!” But, this was what he wanted. If he couldn’t shoo you away like a pigeon picking at crumbs on a sidewalk, he’d ignore you like a lone cat skittering in the neighborhood. 

Making up your mind about hailing a cab and then raiding your step-father’s study to pay for the ride, you’re about to reach the sidewalk when suddenly your blood ran cold. You could recognize the clinking of the sheathing of a pocketknife, you’ve carried the same one you found just hours before the first day of fourth grade on you since. Right now, it fit snug inside your leather boot and it bumped against your ankle with every step. 

Which meant Billy somehow hadn’t slipped your knife in his pocket. 

Yelping, Billy fell against the bricks and slid down until he reached the littered ground of smokes and shards of glass. The boy had already been running away by the time you’d turned to watch, shoving past you with sweat beads above his brow. Some of the glint of the metal in his hand was obstructed by a thick, red consistency and the steady thumping in your chest stuttered.

Running after the boy was a lost cause, especially since the streets tended to be busier at night than in the daylight. Yet, by the time you knelt beside your fallen boyfriend, his breath released in puffs and the tear of his white T-shirt across his abdomen contained stained blots. The skin beneath raw and wet, but not deep at all. 

“Oh, thank God,” the breath swooshed out of your lungs, “It’s just a nick, Billy.”

“Fuck,” he chuckled as he inspected the cut. “Way to go world, just kick me when I’m already down!” 

Your shaped eyebrows knitted together. “Jesus, have you gone mad? You just got shanked and you’re laughing?!” Your hand hovered just inches away from his wound. “What should we do?”

While you’d been too worried, the pads of his fingers grazed the slice. He winced. “Tonight, I was supposed to be some pissy prick, not escape death from the hands of some scrawny freak.” 

“Does—Does it hurt?!”

“It’s not that bad, actually.” Yet, he grunted, “Little fucker,” under his breath as he got to his feet. You followed his lead, still shaken. “It just stings mostly. I’m more worried about the questions someone might ask when they see this,” he gestured to the gash of his ruined shirt, ”but we gotta clean it, babe.” 

“We?” Arms crossed beneath your chest, you remembered the things he’d said just moments ago. “Don’t pretend you didn’t just tell me that I’m pointless! Clean it yourself.”

“Hey. Hey,” Billy reached for your arms, gently uncrossing them until your hands were enveloped in his. Somehow even when it was just above fifty degrees, Billy’s body was a furnace that radiated heat. You think it was the anger he could never quite let go of. “I didn’t mean any of it.” 

You sheepishly glanced towards the side with puckered lips before you spoke. “You sure you didn’t mean it?”

“Never mean it.” He kissed at your hairline before pulling away.

“Then, why were you being so mean?” you questioned him, still a little insulted.

He sighed and brought you into his side, almost forgetting about the tenderness of his stomach but your were mindful. You knew this trick of his, tucking your head under his chin to hide the plain emotions he failed to bar behind a careless façade.  

“Because of my dad… He—uh,“ his adam’s apple bobbed against your temple. “We’re leaving. He’s moving us to Indiana.”

Just when you thought tonight couldn’t get any worse, Billy dropped a bomb on your head. 

A/N: You wanted chaotic and I couldn’t think of a more perfect place than 80’s Sunset Strip. Sorry it’s not 100% what you wanted, the story just seemed to go in this direction.

[kindofcashton]

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 3  (Calum Hood AU)

BY THE TIME we got back to the house it was far past midnight, and none of us could walk straight, except maybe Calum.  He never seemed to show just how much he drank, as his movements weren’t as clumsy and uncontrolled as the rest of ours.

I had spent the night dancing and drinking overly sweet fruity concoctions.  Calum had disappeared from the bar, which was a welcome discovery as I hated the way he always looked at me those burning eyes.  I didn’t like how self conscious and nervous I was around him, so when he was nowhere to be seen I confidently ordered my fruity drinks and actually let loose for once.

He went right up to his room once we got home, but I went into the bathroom with Hannah to change and take all of our makeup off.  Peering into the mirror, I saw my eyeliner had smudged slightly and my lip gloss was practically gone.  My cheeks were flushed from alcohol and the heat of the club, my hair tousled and not as refined as it had been when we left.  In a way, I thought I looked hot, and even cracked a smile at my reflection.

Hannah caught this in the mirror and laughed, hooking an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a hug.

“We got this Scar, you and me.  This can be fun, I promise.”  She sounded so sincere, and I hoped some of her optimism spread to me.  I could use every bit I could get. 

I couldn’t believe just a month ago the two of us had been at school, our biggest worry being the next exam or which jock was going to hit on us in the dining hall.  My heart yearned for those times, when my future was set in stone and I knew what to expect.  I had dreams back then, dreams to help people with my career and make a positive change in someone’s life.  Studying psychology to become a social worker had been my goal for as long as I knew, and I was good at it.  My professors all told me I’d make a great counselor, and my grades reflected this.

And then, one by one, the pieces in my life began to fall apart.  My family never had much money to begin with, but my parents managed to send me to a decent college, with lots of loans of course.  I knew I’d need a job as soon as I graduated, but that over time the debt could be managed.  All of this changed when I got the phone call.  It was late at night, but I was up studying.  I had just spoken to my parents the night before for our weekly chat, and everything was fine.

How quickly those things can change.

The doctor was vague on the phone, or maybe I just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling me.  Didn’t want to comprehend it.  His words were simple, but strung together they made no sense.

What did he mean car accident?  Where were my parents even going?  How come the 18-wheeler that slammed into them didn’t stop?  Why were they the ones that got hurt, when the other driver walked away scratch free?

I knew the word coma, but I didn’t foresee all of its implications.  Brain bleed was mentioned too, as well as circling the drain.  All of these words and phrases jumbled up in my mind, until I snapped and asked what the hell he was talking about.

Needless to say, what little money we did have went towards the medical bills.  My dad died two days after the crash, the impact of the accident turning out to be too much stress on his body.  Before I’d even accepted he was gone my mom took a turn for the worse.  She hadn’t woken up after surgery, and would crash every other day.  I stopped counting the amount of times the doctors revived her, and even slept through a few of them.  

They asked what I wanted to do when she was finally pronounced brain dead.  What was I supposed to do?  A twenty-one year old college student, overwhelmed with work and the fresh death of my father, and I was asked to just unplug my mother?  Stupidly, but caught up in the petrifying stress of it all, I insisted they keep her alive.  This intensive care was expensive, and hemorrhaged every last dollar we had until I had bankers and lawyers knocking down my door.  The day I finally did say goodbye to my mother was the day my university told me I wouldn’t be able to stay if I didn’t pay the monthly fee.

Blinking rapidly, I was brought out of my nightmarish memories and back to the present.  Basically kicked out of college, with barely a cent to my name, Hannah was my lifeline.  We were quite the pair of misfits, as she had essentially flunked out of her classes and been dismissed by the principle.  The two of us made a pact to tell no one the truth, and come home like nothing happened.  I’d work to get my degree some other way, and she would try to figure out a different path.  Without her, I don’t think I would’ve survived.

“I’m gonna take a shower, unless you want to go first?” Hannah asked me, rubbing her alcohol-reddened eyes.  I shook my head, suppressing a yawn.

“I’m too exhausted, I think I’d fall asleep under the water.  I’ll take one in the morning.”

She gave me one last tight hug before I left the bathroom, holding my crumpled outfit in my hands as I crossed the hallway to my room.  The sleep shorts and oversized tee shirt I wore were a welcome change from the tight clothes, and I dumped them in the hamper before collapsing onto Michael’s bed and falling asleep within minutes.

- - - - -

I woke up to my head hammering.  This hangover was one of the worst I’d had in a while, I suppose because I hadn’t drank like that in a while.  It took all the effort I had to get out of bed and head to the shower.

Holding my bathrobe and shower supplies, I noticed the door was closed but the light wasn’t coming through the bottom, so I gave a quick knock.

As my fist collided with the wood, it suddenly swung open to reveal an angry looking Calum.  Everything in my hands fell to the floor with a clatter.  I bent down to pick them up hastily, glancing up at Calum with a frown.  His hair was wet and curly, sticking up at all angles.  A towel hung loosely from his waist, and in my half-conscious state my dreary eyes dragged down his glistening wet skin.  My stare was obvious, and it made a cruel smirk curl onto his lips.

“Morning.  You look great.”  

His comment stung, as I was sure I looked awful.  My hair was a mess, my eyes surely dark with circles and fatigue.  I sighed, and said in a tired voice, “Sorry, I was just going to take a shower.”  When I finally had all my things I stood straight up, still overwhelmed by Calum’s towering frame.

He snorted, and without another word pushed past me towards his room.  I was too jostled to react, instead just closing the door behind me and leaning back against it in defeat.  Would Calum and I ever find a common ground?

I pushed the dark-haired boy out of my mind as I turned on the water, twisting the nozzle to almost as hot as it went.  The droplets scorched my skin as I stood under the rain, washing my limp hair and exhaling in relief.  Hot showers reawakened my senses, and today I needed a boost.  Today I planned on finding a job, and I couldn’t be sleepy and hungover when meeting prospective bosses.

Climbing out of the shower into the steamy bathroom, I toweled off my damp hair and swiped a hand across the foggy mirror.  In the small strip I’d wiped away, I saw the slight bags under my eyes and a dull look in the green orbs.  I was almost glad I couldn’t see the rest of myself.

Tying off my robe, I exited the bathroom and went downstairs to get some breakfast.  Hannah was at the table reading a magazine, and Luke had his head in the fridge searching for something to eat.  Michael and Ashton had already left, and once again Calum was nowhere to be seen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Luke greeted her with a grin, leaning on the top of the fridge door with his forearm.  “You feeling the effects of your wild night out?”  Somehow when Luke teased me, it made me smile; the complete opposite reaction I had when Calum mocked me.

“Oh yeah, this headache is really fun.”  I instantly headed for the coffee, knowing some strong caffeine was just what I needed.

Hannah waved her magazine at Luke.  “If you think last night was wild for the two of us, think again.  We got into some crazy shit at school that you haven’t even seen yet.”  Luke put his hands up in defeat, and I shook my head and chuckled as I joined Hannah at the table.

“Oh yeah, because jello shots are really out of the box.”  I took a sip of the steaming coffee, not even caring that it burnt the tip of my tongue.

Hannah’s eyes tracked Luke behind us until he disappeared into the other room, upon which she pressed her palms to the table and sighed.

“Ashton must have asked me a million questions last night,” she hissed under her breath, and I set my mug down worriedly.

“About what?”  Even my whispered words wavered slightly.

“What do you think?  You, me, why we’re not at school right now when everybody else is.  And I know Ashton wouldn’t just ask me if the other guys hadn’t told him to, which means they’re dying to know too.”

I bit my lip, a thousand thoughts running through my head.  “What do they want to know?  I mean, we just met, I’m not gonna tell them my whole life story.”

Hannah nodded.  “I know, and I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of telling Ashton I flunked out.”  Her voice was thick with disappointment, and I reached across the table to give her hand a sympathetic pat.  I knew Hannah was secretly really embarrassed and ashamed of her grades.  Even though Ashton never went to college himself, Hannah wanted to prove she wasn’t an idiot, since he was always considered the smart one of the pair.  She also couldn’t face her parents, as they would surely throttle her if they found out she left school.

I sighed, and ran a nervous hand through my damp hair.  “Look, I have every intention of going back once I sort things out, and I’m sure if you can figure out a different school and just lie and say you transferred.”

She laughed darkly.  “Transferred to a community college?  Oh yeah, I’ll be a laughing stock to my family.”  Hannah shook her head, as if to clear these negative thoughts.  “Whatever, that’s not important right now.  But you’re sure you want to keep the stuff about your parents quiet?  No one would judge you, Scar, if anything they’d--”

“Pity me,” I interjected.  “They would pity me, and that is the last thing I want from the guys.  I want their respect first, and then maybe I’ll tell them.”

Hannah shrugged.  “Whatever you say, but it can’t be healthy to bottle it all up inside--”

“Bottle what up inside?”

Of course Calum strode in at this very moment.  He had changed into joggers and a black muscle tee with holes around the collar.  His hair had dried and was thick around his forehead.  He reached for the coffee and as he poured himself a cup, his mocking brown eyes watched us at the table.

“We’re talking about emotions and feelings, Calum, something you would never be able to understand,” Hannah fired back, causing him to scowl.

“Damn, ouch,” Luke laughed as he reentered.  “What a lovely morning this is shaping up to be.

The four of us ate in relative silence.  I was glad when Luke sat next to me so that Calum couldn’t.  He sat diagonal to me, eating the same frosted cereal as yesterday.  I was sick of the quiet in the room, and decided to speak up.

“I’m gonna go see about that job at the cafe,” I informed them.  “Never too soon to start earning money.”

Luke set his orange juice on the table.  “I would offer you a ride, but Mike and I share the station wagon and he’s already gone.  Same with Ashton.”

Hannah’s piercing blue eyes slid to Calum next to her, who hadn’t looked up.  When he realized we were waiting for him, he glared across the table.

“What, I’m supposed to jump at volunteering?”

I repressed a sigh.  I didn’t exactly want Calum to drive me, but clearly that was the simplest answer.  However, I wasn’t about to show him I relied on him and let him toy with this like he always did.  Instead, I shook my head.

“No, I don’t want a ride.  I think it’ll do me good to figure out the bus system.  I don’t ever wanna rely on any of you for a ride, you already do too much.”

Hannah and Luke nodded while Calum rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his cereal.  Straightening my posture, I refused to let his rudeness affect me.  I needed to be confident today, and someone like Calum knew just how to strip this away.

I left breakfast to get ready, opting for a nice pair of jeans and simple sweater with a jacket.  I liked looking put together and composed; it helped me feel that way on the inside.  

“Wish me luck,” I called at the front door, and I saw Luke give me a thumbs up from the kitchen.

“Go get ‘em, girl!” Hannah yelled.  Calum remained stoically silent.

There was a bus stop at the corner of the street, and I pulled up the schedule on my phone.  Hannah had given me the address, and I was pleased to see it wasn’t far at all.  God, I hope I get the job, I thought, chewing my lip.  It would make this stressful time that much easier.

The bus came and I took a seat close to the back, peering out the window and familiarizing myself with the area.  It was a great city, and a part of me could see settling down here.

No, the goal is college, I reminded myself.  This is meant to be extremely temporary.  And besides, no matter how much I liked the city it would always feel like I was borrowing it.  It belonged to Hannah and the guys, the same way the house did.  I would always be a guest here, would never feel like I was really meant to stay.

The cafe was earthy and quaint, and upon stepping through the door I was hit by a waft of roasted coffee.  There was in fact a hiring sign outside, with quite a few exclamation marks, which would hopefully work in my favor.

I approached the counter confidently.  “Hi, I heard you guys were hiring and was wondering if I could fill out an application?”

The worker looked relieved once I asked.  He was around my age, with black earrings and a nose ring.  His name tag read Roger.  “Thank god.  Mack was convinced we’d never find an applicant.  Hold on, I’ll get him for you now.”

I smiled, pleasantly surprised at his enthusiastic answer.  A minute passed, and Roger returned with an older man, who thankfully didn’t look too intimidating.  He had graying hair and a bushy mustache, and smelled strongly off baking scones.

“You’re here about the job?”  He got straight to the point, and I smiled as I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Yes, absolutely.  I have my resume right here, and was just hoping to get an interview today, whatever you wanted.”

Mack waved his hand dismissively.  “Lemme see the resume.”  I reached into my bag and pulled it out, handing it over with a breathless grin.

“I’m still enrolled in college,” I said quickly, embellishing my story slightly.  “I’m earning credits for my degree from home right now.”  I hoped the explanation sounded mature and not like an excuse I was desperately trying to push.

Mack studied the paper in a matter of seconds, and slapped it on the counter.  Roger was grinning behind him, arms folded.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Mack started, and I nodded.  “I really need the help right now.  Normally, I’d screen a few applicants and worry about experience and whatnot, but I just don’t have the time.  So how about I give you a two week test run, and if I think you’re a good fit I’ll hire you officially?”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping to the floor.  How is it this easy? I thought, thinking surely there must be a catch.  Glancing around, I saw that the cafe was well attended and pretty nice overall, which was encouraging.  The only downside to Mack’s offer was the lack of pay for two weeks, but that was honestly fair with such an easy application process.

“Deal,” I said, extending my hand for a shake.  Mack smiles hugely and shook my hand, eyes twinkling.

“You just saved me an awful lotta stress, Scarlett,” he said.  “I really hope you’re the one for the job.”

I left after thanking him again profusely, and had to hold in a squeal.  I called Hannah immediately to gush about my success, and she said we had to celebrate.  We spent the day window shopping and trying on expensive clothes we’d never buy, but she made me swear I’d buy a tight cream colored dress once I got my first paycheck.  Hannah insisted it made me look like a million bucks, and I had to admit I liked that idea.

By the time we got home it was well after dinner and the guys had disbanded.  Michael and Luke texted saying they were with some friends getting a drink, and with Calum’s missing mustang I assumed he was with them.  Hannah got a surprise call from her parents once we walked through the door and hastily ran downstairs to take it.  A few times I heard her raise her voice to a yell, and I knew they must have found out about her leaving school.

Poor Hannah, I thought as I brushed my teeth, staring into the mirror.  I looked radically different from this morning; though I still had on an oversized tee shirt and shorts, my eyes were sparking with confidence and exuberance at getting a job, and the hangover had finally cleared along with the dark circles.  My cheery mood continued as I strolled downstairs, starving as I decided to make a simple sandwich and catch up on some reading.

The yelling stopped and I assumed Hannah had gone to bed, so I was peacefully alone in the kitchen with my book.  I was so engrossed in it I barely heard the front door open.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t ignore Calum swaggering into the kitchen to grab a beer, and I swallowed a bite of my sandwich nervously.

“Hey,” I said tentatively, praying he wouldn’t be mean for once.  Something was off about his appearance; his tee shirt was wrinkled and his belt wasn’t fully done on his jeans.  His hair was super messy and his eyes were glazed, and I spotted a dark mark on his neck.

Oh.

“Why are you still awake?  It’s like 3am.”  He flipped open his beer and took a swig, taking in my appearance at the table.

I hugged my knee closer to my chest and shrugged, a few pieces of hair escaping my bun to block my eyes.  “Not really tired.”

He met my eyes, and I tried to hide the fact that I knew what he’d just come home from.  He didn’t seem as cocky as normal, his hook-up actually subduing his sharp attitude.  I still felt wildly uncomfortable under his close brown gaze though, and it took everything in me not to shy away.

Finally, he broke the stare to take another sip of beer.  “Goodnight, Scarlett,” he said before disappearing upstairs, and I stayed rooted to the spot in shock for a few moments more.

I don’t know what shocked me more; his lack of cruel comments or the fact that he’d actually used my name for the first time.

[davidcxrenswet]

🔮 - your muse and mine visit a fortune-teller (outcome up to muns!)

In a small town like Normal there just wasn’t a lot to do. Normal teenagers spent most of their free time either at Marie’s for burgers and shakes, at the drive in, or down by the Sticks if the weather permitted it. This meant that Harvey Vance had to get a little creative when it came to date ideas for him and Mariana Diaz. It seemed silly to put this much effort into a high school girl that had a hustle involving selling nudes to the other teenage boys in town, but somehow that girl had gotten a grip on him and Harvey wanted nothing more than to romance her in a way that no other boy in town would. He liked her. He liked her a lot. Last thing he wanted was to lose her to one of the other schmucks around town. So Harvey tried to go out of his way. He set up impossibly romantic dates in the most mundane areas around town, spent every last penny he earned to treat her with exquisite experiences. But his options were dwindling fast, and he was finding it harder to come up with something unique and different to woo her with. 

So inevitably he had to result to some more cliche options. That afternoon wasn’t even the most ideal time for a date. He was supposed to go to the sheriff’s department later that evening to do a late night shift assisting with some filing followed by some “house work” his mother insisted he needed to help with that night which in turn would keep him from spending too much time with his paramour. So that meant he needed to come up with something fast and simple as an excuse to get a little time with her. Any other guy would probably use this as an excuse to get Mariana in their bed for a couple passionate minutes, but Harvey was still holding off on sleeping with her. Not because he didn’t want to perse, he just wanted to be 100% sure of his feelings before he bedded her. And while he was becoming more and more sure of them... He wasn’t sure where she stood, and he didn’t want to give himself to someone who didn’t love him back. 

With all this in mind, he chose what was probably the worst place to go on a quick little date -- Psychic’s Strip. The strip mall had a bit of a reputation. It was the congregating place for all the kooks in Normal that seemed convinced of “paranormal” happenings in town. Despite the things he’d seen while tailing the Murder Club, Harvey still wasn’t completely sold on these supernatural happenings, so he mostly avoided places -- and people -- like this. But he was running out of places to take Mariana to that were exciting, as well as running on limited time that afternoon. And if her involvement in the group gave him any indication, she was possibly into this kind of stuff too. But above all, it was also one of the few places they would run into a lot of people from school. They still weren’t out and open with their relationship, and Harvey wanted to keep it as secretive as he could. Seeing a lack of familiar faces when they’d first arrived, Harvey reached out to grab Mariana’s hand almost instantly, lacing their fingers as he’d dragged her along. “Okay,” he started in a somewhat unsure tone, “I know this isn’t the best place for a date, but... I don’t know, I thought we could try and find the weirdest thing we can and just have some fun with it.” As he said the words, his nose wrinkled at the neon signs claiming fortunes could be told. 

For the most part it was a pretty lowkey date. They had spent most of their time just walking along the strip, eyeing the different establishments lining it. It was for the most part faith healers and psychics -- scammers really. Harvey didn’t want to wander across the threshold of any of the storefronts, leaning away if Mariana so much as swayed in their direction. He’d laugh and scoff and shake his head at all their promises of healing and palm reading. But after a while of walking back and forth, their conversation going light and silent, he was beginning to worry he’d bored her with his choice of place for them. He cursed himself for having chosen this over a walk in the park with Sasquatch. At least you know she loves Sassy... That would have been a sure win in comparison to this. Frowning at his thoughts, Harvey looked up in time to see another gaudy display of neon signs in the window of another psychic’s store. His stroll slowed to a stop as he stared at the signs promising great power and authentic tarot readings. It was the kind of stuff his parents had always warned him of. Witchcraft and satanism, that’s what these soothsayers were to most southern white Christians. If it weren’t for his fear that he’d messed up gravely in entertaining Mariana that afternoon, he wouldn’t have had the thought.. But the more they stood there, the more he felt like he needed to do something unexpected. 

Without a word Harvey ushered Mariana towards the store, puling the heavy door outward and holding it open for her. At her curious glance, he shrugged. “I said we were gonna find the weirdest thing and have some fun with it, didn’t I?” Harvey said, a sort of mischievous lopsided grin pulling at his lips. His dimpled deepened as his entire expression flashed with a sort of daring glance, as if tempting her to try and think of something better to do there. “Let’s see what ‘the cards’ have in store for us.” He winked playfully at her before ushering her inside. There was a part of him that almost welcomed the idea of going inside if only for the air conditioning. It was hot outside, another humid midsummer day, and so the icy cool air within was more than invited. The odd smell inside the establishment wasn’t. He tried not to grimace at it -- something herby but also funky. He couldn’t place it but he also just didn’t want to. Pulling Mariana along with him, they entered the space and headed towards an empty counter where they assumed they were supposed to meet the “fortune teller”. 

The whole room was dark, dimly lit for atmosphere. The decor was gaudy, in all jewel tones and clearly meant to give this whole “new age” spiritual vibe. Everything just looked cheap and outdated to Harvey. There had been a bell when they opened the door, likely to signal the workers that a customer had come in, but no one had come to greet them yet. As they quietly waited, Harvey pulled Mariana into his arms, her back to him, leaning foward to rest his chin on her shoulder. He was worried now more than ever that he had epically failed at this date, only made worse the longer they waited for some kind of employee to greet them. 

Harvey was ready to give up and drag Mariana out, thinking maybe a heavy make out in the backseat of his car would be the only way to salvage their afternoon, until they heard the sound of a bead curtain being pushed over. From somewhere in the back a woman had appeared, dressed in head to toe in flowing fabrics dyed a deep purple and black. Her makeup was so heavily caked on, Harvey had to stop himself from gawking. Releasing Mariana but keeping his hands on her hips, he offered the woman before them a grin as she greeted them. She introduced herself as Madame Serena before asking what kind of service they wanted. She specialized in tarot and palm reading among other things. Harvey just wanted the cheapest experience to treat Mariana to before he made up for it with the aforementioned make out session. Madame Serena of course attempted to upsell the hell out of them, but Harvey stood firm. It had been a long ten or so minutes before she ushered the pair into a dark room in the back where a round table with three chairs sat. Two of the chairs were on one side, while a lone chair sat opposite them. It was obvious where the pair was to sit, so Harvey pulled out one chair for Mariana while Madame Serena got her cards out for reading. 

There was a long introduction where she explained to the pair how tarot worked. Harvey wasn’t really paying attention. Instead he was fixated on Mariana’s expression, trying desperately to read it and see if she was having fun or not. As per usual, the girl wasn’t the most forthcoming. Her expression was sometimes so neutral when they were together, it irritated him to not have an inkling of how she was doing. So he reached out to grab her hand and played with her fingers while he passively listened to the fortune teller. Soon she was launching into the reading, setting out cards and reading out their meanings to them. It was all standard sounding, a little too broad or generalized to seem mystical. Harvey eventually tuned it out as he watched Mariana’s expression as the woman spoke to her directly. She really was the most gorgeous girl in town, how the hell had he convinced her to go on more than one date with him? He was really beginning to wonder if their budding relationship was some crude prank by the MC. 

“He certainly has strong feelings for you, though you don’t need cards to see that.” 

The words had drawn him from his fascination with Mariana’s microexpressions. Harvey turned to gape at the fortune teller. “I’m - what?” 

The woman just laughed as he blushed and stared back at her. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you this entire time. Obviously he likes you deeply, though that’s not what I’m seeing as I look into your future.” Harvey scoffed and leaned back in his chair. If he’d allowed himself to look at Mariana, he may have caught sight of a satisfactory smile. At least he assumed she was sporting one - he decided to not look at her after the fortune teller embarrassed him. Clearing his throat, he watched her unimpressed as she continued. “I see a great love for you two. You’re certainly well matched, despite what others - and maybe even you yourselves think. You’ll find happiness together. That is if you can get past certain trials.” This piqued Harvey’s interest. He sat up a little straighter, though flashing a somewhat skeptical glance at the woman as she continued. “There is something from your pasts which haunt you - things lost and things gained. If you allow these things to consume you, then your relationship won’t last. But if you let them go, then your love with thrive.” Madame Serena’s eyes narrowed as she looked down at the cards. It was almost comical, looking so concentrated as if somehow she was going to “see” something more. It was all for stupid show - what she was saying was, once again, very vague and generalized. Was this really worth the hefty fee? 

“There is only two outcomes for you, one is happy and one is sad, but both paths are strewn with... Death and chaos. There are dark times ahead for you two.” She stared wide eyed at the two and for a second Harvey thought there was genuine fear and concern for them in her eyes. She spent a particularly long moment just really staring hard at Mariana, a scrutinizing gaze that Harvey couldn’t really read. He felt uncomfortable, and he wasn’t even the one she was staring so pointedly at. He spared a glance at Mariana to see if she felt uncomfortable as well, but the most he could make out was annoyance from the look of it. “You two should tread carefully going forward,” Madame Serena finally concluded after a moment. Her gaze shifted to Harvey and he was caught off guard by it. There was an edge in the way she stared at him, as if she was trying to mentally say something to him. He could swear she was almost giving him a warning look, a gaze riddled in fear and concern for him and him specifically. He swallowed under the intensity of it. “Very carefully, young man.”

“Erm, thank you Madame Serena,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. He felt Mariana’s hand in his shortly after that, squeezing it slightly tighter than she had earlier. He didn’t have time to really think about it because Madame Serena was whipping out a phone with a card reader attached, spewing out an ungodly price for their reading. Harvey quickly swiped his card and pressed the appropriate prompts on the screen to secure the transaction before standing up and leading Mariana out of the store. He didn’t even stop to offer the woman another parting glance or anything before pulling Mariana out into the scorching North Carolina heat. It sizzled off the asphalt as he directed her to the car. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling into his stomach, and he wanted to be as far away from Psychic’s Strip as he could get. 

Engine roaring to life, he offered Mariana an apologetic grin as he cranked up the AC. “Well that was... Something.” He tried to laugh but it came out awkward and choked. Gripping the steering wheel, Harvey’s mind whirled as he tried to think of a way to salvage their short date. “She was definitely a phony,” he said after a moment, turning back to Mariana. As her hazel eyes shifted towards him, he reached over to gently cup her chin and lead her across the console to meet him for a soft kiss. “I mean, if she could really see our future.. Then she’d have seen the very hot kiss I’m about to give you,” he added with a crooked grin. He wasted no time in leaning across the way to engage Mariana in a long, slow kiss. This had been a monumentally terrible idea, and he needed to quickly make up for it if he’d hoped to take Mariana Diaz out again. 

[writingsofmyimagination]

My Prince

Summary: You couldn’t think of a better surprise for Xmas.

This was part of the BTS Smut Club Secret Santa Project! :) 

It was lots of fun to do something different.

Jimin x Reader One Shot

Words:2578

Warnings:Smut ;P(F&M recieving), Oral Sex, Penetration, Swearing, BDSM, Sub!Jimin, Dom Reader, Breath play.

A/N: This is the first dom reader I’ve done so comments welcome. Have a sub Jungkook fic all finished and on the way soon :)

Happy Reading Army

-          I hate that I couldn’t be with you today princess, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow xxx – 17:45

You smiled lazily before replying

 -          I can’t either baby. Have a safe flight Xxxx – 17:47

It was Christmas day and you’d spent it solo. This was only a minor complaint, Christmas is only special when it’s spent with loved ones; most of which were over 5000miles away. A job offer of a lifetime at the Korean National Contemporary Dance Company had you easily swayed to relocate to Seoul and leave your family and friends back in England. Even your boyfriend wasn’t in the country, he’d be flying back tomorrow. You were currently in a taxi on route to the hotel where they guys would be checking into tomorrow before the end of year awards shows began.

The hotel lobby was in a word luxurious. The light grey breccia marble floor finish along with the matching roman like pillars scattered through the room definitely added class. A chandelier had been proudly hung in the centre of the room to welcome guests with elegance, it was bejewelled with diamond shaped cuts of glass or actual diamond you wouldn’t know the difference. You made your way past the extensive waiting area with neatly placed furniture and halted in front of the receptionist desk placing your handbag on top of your suitcase and fished around for your purse.

“Name please” the receptionist asked pleasantly with a smile to match her tone.

“YL/N” you smiled. The tapping of the keyboard began and stopped almost just as quickly.

“Perfect, ID please” your ID was in front of her before she even finished asking for it.

“Thank you” she said before taking it and running it through the electronic scanner. Writing on a small slip of card before she slipped my ID and the card and key over the desk.

“Room 407, elevators just to your left, enjoy your stay, if you have any requests please just let us know” her face was bright and beamed sincerity. Her brightness was infectious and had you smiling back equally as bright

“Thank you so much”.

 The hallway walls were surprisingly plain apart from in built lights angled both up and down creating light hourglass beams on the walls, the hourglasses illuminating the way down the corridor, the floor still  was mostly covered with a spotless red carpet leaving the marble to only peek out at the sides.

    The door opened with a light click. There was a small hallway as you walked in obscuring any view of the actual room. You removed your shoes immediately, half way down the hall way was a half oval table pressed against the wall. Atop of the table was a small Christmas tree neatly decorated with silver and blue tinsel. There was a folded card next to it addressed to you. Wow this hotel was fancy you thought to yourself. After hooking your leather jacket on a peg you picked up the note.

-          I wasn’t about to let you spend Christmas alone,

-J

                                             Your excitement blossomed from nowhere upon recognising the handwriting. You curiously walked past the hallway and into a room of beauty.

Directly in front of you was a red mahogany writing desk on top of which was a sprinkling of presents; the desk was pushed up to a floor to wall window which carried on for the length of the room apart from a walled section in the middle. A generously large flat screen TV was attached to the walled section, In the right hand corner were two single armchairs patterned in gold on a chocolate brown background with a small table sat in between. Next to the seating the seating area was a door revealing the further rooms you assumed to be the wardrobe and bathroom. What really drew your attention wasn’t the glamour of the room showered with Christmas decorations nor the breath-taking view of Seoul at night with its sea of lights, like glitter thrown across the whole city. The sight of Jimin on his knees facing the bed, in nothing but his black Calvin Klein’s and a black leather chest harness; one which you hadn’t seen before. It was gladiator style with thicker straps resting over his shoulders, at the back it neatly crossed into an x- shape with a large silver O-ring at the crossroads of the central straps. His head was tilted forward, his soft ash blonde hair hanging obscuring his face.

   The battle of lust and awe began raging within you, he was so sweet and had obviously flown back early to spend Christmas night with you but with him so willing to submit and looking like that there was only ever going go to be one victor of that war.

“You do know how to amaze and surprise me Park Jimin” you praised. “So you want to play huh?” you asked, your tone naturally slipping into a dominant tone.

“Yes Noona”

“Well firstly stand up and turn around, I want to see how beautiful you look for me)”

He obediently followed your instructions. The straps ran under his arms over his shoulders and met just below his pecks where there was another ring which joined then and a further piece of leather sat horizontally joining those two O-rings. You bit your bottom bit fully absorbing the view, his eager to please doe eyes, his appetizing pecs and abs and oh my god those thighs.

“Do you like it” he asked shyly waiting for approval of the new harness.

“I love it baby, you certainly know how to spoil a girl” you tugged at one of the rings desperate to have his hands canvasing your skin. Your hands tangled in his hair and naturally made a firm fist, his hands went straight to the curve of your back before slipping down and pulled you even harder against him. You broke contact momentarily and flung off your shirt before attaching to those perfect plump lips.The ache between your legs spiking the instant your skin touched.

“I think you still need your punishment” Jimin looked at you flustered for a moment before realisation swept his expression and dragged his eyes to the floor.

“Tell me again what you did”

“I touched myself without your permission”

“And why did you do that?”

“Because I just needed to feel you so bad”

“Well I think you can lose that privilege today for being such a greedy boy”

“On the bed! And wait” you barked and retraced your route back to your bag and fished out his collar and a long silk black wrap. Your face was a picture of delight, you rarely restrained his hands; losing the ability to have his hands on you was torture for him. The excitement of knowing he was going to be begging and writhing beneath you was exhilarating and everything you wanted.

“Noona!” he whined as his eyes caught a glimpse of the silk.

“Don’t whine! You know what happens when you whine. You did this to yourself” your eyes shot an officious glare in his direction, you teasingly stripped down leaving just an opal blue lingerie set for his eyes. You clambered onto the bed and secured the O-ring leather collar around his neck before you shoved him onto his back forcefully earning a breathy grunt from him. You straddled his waist flexed your finger to the ceiling asking for his wrists. His bottom lip pouted out as he offered his hands to you.

“Good boy, now if you’re loud enough and behave for your noona she might let you cum today” you secured his wrists and shoved them above his head. The thin layer of fabric separating your heat from his boxers was already soaked through with your arousal. This boy affected you ridiculously. A chimera of frustration and lust blew his eyes and pupils wide as he watched you ghost your own fingertips over the swell of your breasts carrying his gaze all the way down dipping your hands under the band of your underwear. A sigh spilled from your lips, your fingers tracing delicate circles around your clit. Jimin huffed in annoyance and dropped his head to the bed with a soft thud. “Eyes on me!”

His cock twitched beneath you, nudging your hips into teasing action.

“These could be your fingers, but you had to misbehave” you breathed “I’m so wet for you”

“Y/N please don’t tease” he whined trying to shift his weight to ease the discomfort of his erection.

You ignored his plea, shifted from his straddling his waist to his thigh. Your hands enclosed around his forearms bringing your face nearer to his purposely avoiding his attention starved lips.

“I’m going to ride your incredible thighs until I’m cumming all over them and you won’t even be able to help” you whispered before catching his earlobe in between your teeth and tugging gently. When your hips starting grinding into the firmness of his thighs you breathed moans which got caught in your throats as you pressed your lips to his demanding his reciprocation which he gave instantly. Your nails dug lightly into his arms as you rode your way to your peak.

“Jimin, ah, you feel so good, I bet you wish I was riding your cock right about now” you panted trying to maintain coherent speech while your head clouded over with ecstasy.

“Ah, I do noona, it’s so hard it’s painful. My cock needs to be filling you up baby” his words in combination with his whiney tone flew you over the edge soaring through your climax, your legs muscles tensing constricting around his thigh.

“You look so sexy when you cum noona, please let me be inside you, please let me cum” he begged desperation mirrored in his eyes beautifully. You sat back and pretended to ponder over his plea.

“If you make me cum with that tongue of yours I’ll give you what you want” you bargained, you was never going to not even though he deserved but it was Christmas and he’d surprised you so sweetly.

“Thank you so much noona, I love how you taste I hate not being able to feel you” he breathed brightly with relief.

“Just be quiet and fuck me with that tongue” you barked yanking his arms over to rest on his front positioning your legs either side of his head.

“Now no touching yourself!” you warned lowering yourself lightly. His tongue lapped up your arousal and cum as if there had been a severe drought, you cried having to stabilise yourself against the headboard, throwing your head down and seeing his eyes, ravenous and focused in front of him. The tip of his tongue teasing your entrance before torturously slowly licking up and taking your clit into his mouth sucking. You tilted yourself into his tongue, normally he’d have his arms locked around your thighs with his fingers digging harshly into your skin.

“I love how good you are” you started, his pace slowed to long precious licks holding you by a thread from falling.

“Don’t tea…” in the middle of your command his tongue stiffened and swept aggressively side to side knocking you into a moaning, pulsing mess. One of your hands shot down to knot amongst his hair as your orgasm dissipated flooding your system with oxytocin.

You climbed off, really focused on not letting your legs buckle from under you. Stood looming over him like a work of art.

“Look at you all frustrated with my cum all over your face” his chin was glistening with his incredible work.

“Tell me what it is want you and noona will take care of it, tell me what you thought about when you misbehaved and touched yourself” you re-joined him back on the bed and slipping of his boxers holding eye contact.

“You riding me” he uttered almost soundless.

“You have to be louder and more specific than that baby” your lips hitched into a smirk as he went to speak and you enclosed your mouth around his tip and swept off the pre cum with your tongue. The desperate whine that escaped his lips crawled viciously down your spine setting off an unforgiving ache at your core; no one had ever affected you like he did, it drove you wild.

“I … I want you to ride me with your hands around my throat, please I need to cum noona” the desperation more evident with each word. You didn’t say a word, you just moved into position and sunk down onto him slowly relishing being filled. His head rolled back along with his eyes and a relieved animalistic groan fighting passed his lips.

“Feels so…good” he breathed

“Is this what you want baby?” your wrapped your hand round his neck, thumb on the right side and your remaining fingers on the left side, you pressed gently on his carotid arteries and simultaneously clenched your pelvic muscles around him. He was so completely lost in you he couldn’t respond straight away.

“oh god yes” he finally panted

“You’re not even going to last long are you, you desperate boy. You still need my permission to cum” speaking was becoming increasingly more difficult for you as-well as you hurried the speed at which your hips oscillated. He wasn’t going to disagree with you, you knew his body like you knew your own and he was doing his best to stop himself. You stilled on him, sensing his impending release. He grunted and groaned in protest and total frustration. You gave him a few seconds to compose his breathing, the thin layer of sweat across his forehead now held strands of his hair captive in its moisture. You resumed your movement but you kept it agonizingly slow to not send him or you for that matter past the point of control; still alternating loose and tight grips around his throat.

“Noona…fuck!...please” he hissed

“That’s pathetic, I know you can beg much better than that” you panted.

“Noona, please let me cum, you feel too good, please ride my cock until I’m crying out your name, I want your pussy clenching around me milking me of everything I have, fuck…please noona I can’t” his voice wavered, sounding like a radio station whose connection has started to have frequent drop outs. His desperate appeal had your core bursting, wanting to avalanche but you maintained control by a thread.

“Fuck, I love how you beg!” you untied his hands teetering on the brink, pinned his hands under yours at the side of his head “Cum for noona” you managed in between desperate gasps for air, before you started your started movements his hips bucked harshly slamming himself into you hurriedly chasing his own pleasure. You clenched your muscles around him voluntarily dragging him into release, his face an image of beauty, pleasure etched into every inch of it. His head rolled back against the bed “Y/N” he cried, a tear raced down his face. You fell off the edge joining him in filling the room with moans and sharing in his breathlessness.

“Thank you baby, happy Christmas” he panted gratefully, he mustered the energy to comatose you with the sweetness of his smile. You chuckled lightly, kissing his forehead like it was a precious gemstone.

“Merry Christmas my prince, I’ll go run a bath and give you one of my massages”

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Rock You Like A Hurricane

Stripper!Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: On the whims of a drunk group of bridesmaids and the bride to be, you went to Studz and found your own Romeo...too bad you already knew him.

Word Count: 2,772

Warnings: swearing, drinking, sexy dancing (is that a warning? idk), minor sexual implications it’s not graphic and i’m a little baby at this so be gentle with me

Author’s note: so did I reach 1.2k? No, but Tumblr is trying to censor safe sexuality and I want to see how far I can go writing wise before I start making plans. If this gets flagged, I will make an AO3 and give y’all the user so we can keep getting weird, ya know? Anyway, hope you like this mess! I tried 😫😫😫

Permanent Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @hargrovesgoldilocks @denimjacketkisses @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @casaharrington @moonstruckhargrove (you ain’t usually on this tag but...I LOVE YOU AND WANT YOUR LOVE) @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22

FEEDBACK APPRECIATED AND ENCOURAGED!!!

Your cousin Elizabeth was getting married. Twenty-three years old, barely out of college, and engaged to the richest guy you knew. Your mother was never going to let you hear the end of it. You and her were the same age and practically grew up together and your mother believed that she was the standard every girl should live to. She was pretty, decently smart, and popular. She was a high school cheerleader, an honour roll student; she volunteered at animal shelters and had just graduated from college with a degree social work. You were a mediocre student, a college dropout, and, thus far, a failed actress. You were a failure of a daughter and your mother had seemingly given up on you.

So when Elizabeth asked you to be one of her bridesmaids, your mother wouldn’t hear the end of it unless you said yes. You agreed, begrudgingly, dropping too much money on a magenta taffeta nightmare to wear once and answered every upset phone call from the anxious bride to be. You had been given the highly important role of planning the bachelorette party. Naturally, the large hoard of rich North-eastern girls were only coming to you for this because you lived in LA and they were ready to bask in the glitz and glamour of Hollywood, refusing to believe that you didn’t actually live at its centre. And so Elizabeth dragged Vivian, Olivia, Kimmy, Maria, and Amber to your shit hole apartment and tried to not complain about it or your plans, although they were already over it and you before the clock struck eight.

You had decided on one thing and one thing only-you would not take them to a strip club. You’d go anywhere else-tourist traps, filthy clubs and bars- you’d even sneak them onto a movie set if it meant the whole thing would be over sooner. Just no strip clubs.

And you didn’t take them to one. Elizabeth’s maid of honour, Vivian, dragged you all out to the nearest club, advertising the hottest guys in town. You were forced into what was perceived as the hottest dress you owned, a short neon nightmare you bought in college, and pushed out the door despite your pleas. You didn’t want to be in a grimy strip club, certainly not with your cousin and her bridesmaids, all various degrees of drunk.

And Studz was not a nice club. If you had wanted to take them to a club, you would’ve taken them to a Chippendale’s, it would have at least been cleaner and a bit busier. Inside the dingy club, with its sticky tables and tiny stage, you were one of three occupied tables. Vivian had chosen a table at the front of the stage, a prime location for viewing the milk crates the club was calling a stage, but the other two parties seemed intriguing.

One was filled with what you could only assume were regulars, an intriguing mix of tough looking women with buzz cuts and sour expressions guarding a trio of grinning, excited boys each with their own sense of style, all of which your mother would’ve called feminine or, as politely as she could, queer, and your father would’ve called…well, you wouldn’t use that word.

The other table was a group of nervous looking women, all old enough to have children old enough to at least in middle school and surrounded by tall orange drinks, which you’d guess were ‘Sex on the Beach’es, knowing the fruity gradient well enough from the drunk barely-legals who came to your bar. They all seemed awkward and embarrassed, the same feeling you felt sitting in the dark room where drinks were twice as expensive and the music blared in your ears. You might’ve been able to handle it if you weren’t forcefully decked out in bachelorette party gear bought angrily by Olivia, peeved that you hadn’t bought any for the group. You had on a white sash which read in glittery pink text ‘I’m the single one’, advertising you like a prime piece of real-estate and not a broke loser. You felt silly and sad, you wished you had just put your foot down and said no. But still you stayed, nursing an insanely overpriced jack and coke through a penis shaped straw, listening as the girls chattered on.

“So anyway, Y/N, this is how you throw a bachelorette party! We want Lizzie to be surrounded by insanely hot dudes for one more night before she ties Stevie down forever. One last night of sexy adventures for our gorgeous bride to be!” Vivian declared cockily, pointing at the giggling Elizabeth, already drunk from the giant Cosmo in front of her and the five jello shots she’d taken at your apartment, the one thing you’d done right so it seemed.

“Whatever you say…” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you spun the melting ice around in your glass. Suddenly, the lights in the bar dimmed impossibly further and the stage lights flashed on, first in a spinning disco ball of bright rainbow coloured lights.

“Alright ladies, let’s give a big welcome to Armando!” the announcer slash bartender called from the microphone on the rail, barely looking up from his copy of Proust. You clapped politely as the bridesmaids cheered, though not as loud as the mismatched table, where the boys of the group lit up like Christmas trees and hollered loudly. The sultry, sticky sounds of Def Leopard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me blasted from the speakers. A larger man with a beautiful tan stepped on stage. He wasn’t exactly rippling in muscles, but he was fit and his fade was lined up nicely. He was dressed as a construction worker, complete with a hard hat. He looked confident, but you could see the Vaseline he’d used to define and brighten his abs caking in between the muscles; most men would’ve used baby oil, but he was trying to appear fitter than he actual was and the trick seemed to work, Kimmy, Elizabeth’s childhood best friend was already openly drooling over him.

His set was awkward and jerky, you were certain it was one of his first shows, and he tended to rely on pelvic thrusts instead of a variety of moves. When the bar cut the song, you were able to count the money he’d earned sitting sadly on the stage floor.

The rest of the numbers were about the same. Next came Carlos, who the back table seemed to be a big fan of. One of the boys, decked in a bedazzled muscle tank, screamed out “I love you Carlos!” in a feminine voice with a slight Puerto Rican accent, clapping above his head. Then Julian, Stefan, Emilio, and Cole all decked out in various ‘sexy’ outfits; poor Emilio was stuck in a weak Native American costume as though he was a member of The Village People.  The whole thing was embarrassing and awkward but as Elizabeth and her friends got drunker and drunker, they seemed to enjoy it more and more. Poor Maria had seemingly fallen in love with Stefan and, after running a shaky hand over his greasy, hairless chest, declared that she wanted to have his baby and spent all her cash on him. When he didn’t come around after his set, she pouted and drank more to fill the void.

Then, everything got improbably darker. At one point, Vivian had snuck off to talk to the emcee and returned with a smug, proud smile, which worried you. You were the only sober person left in the group and thus the babysitter of the girls, watching drinks and keeping hold of those drunk enough to pounce on a dancer.

“There’s a bachelorette party in the house!” the emcee called, earning polite claps from the other tables and hoots and hollers from the girls surrounding you. “Well, we have a treat for you! Welcome to the stage, Romeo!”

First, in the darkness, someone brought out a chair and when the lights came up again, The Divinyl’s I Touch Myself began to blast out of the speakers and out from the sparkling red curtains came a man dressed in leather chaps, the most attractive of the group. His back was to the audience, his muscular legs and butt on full display, his right hand reaching up to the microphone descending from the ceiling, taking it easily.

“I’d like to invite the lovely bride to be up for a dance.” He said huskily and your heart stopped. You knew that voice, it stuck in your brain like a thorn. Billy Hargrove. You should’ve recognized him from the still present mullet. But how could you? Why on earth would you believe him to be anywhere near you, in the Valley of all places? Elizabeth was being forced to her feet by Vivian; this was obviously her master plan from the start to give her dear friend one last thrill.

But this thrill was unwanted, as it seemed. Elizabeth was trying very hard to force her thin wrsit out of Vivian’s grasp and begging anyone nearby to help. Naturally, you jumped into action, pulling Vivian away from her.

“Y/N! Y/N I can’t do it! I don’t wanna cheat on Stevie! I don’t wanna do this!” she cried, tears welling in her bright green eyes. You nodded, taking her hand, and squeezing it in your own.

“Okay, okay sit down you don’t have to. We’ll go home, okay? We’ll go, just calm down.” You said sternly as she nodded, teary eyed.

“Don’t ruin the fun, Y/N.” Vivian said crossly, scoffing at Elizabeth’s tears. “Here, if you’re so hell bent on being the centre of attention, you go.” Before you could even try to retort her idea, you were being pushed to the stage the girls were screaming with delight. Billy was looking down at you with a smirk and a hand extended to you. When your nervous expression met his confident leer, his smirk dropped away.

He recognized you.

You and Billy weren’t exactly friends in high school. He’d come to Hawkins, Indiana in your second last year of high school and joined your graduating class with all the anger and hatred of a boy forced out of his home. He took that anger out on anyone who didn’t play his games and you weren’t one to play along. It was all because you wouldn’t do the entire English project you’d been assigned his partner for. You wanted to split the work even, he wanted to do nothing and get a great grade. In the end, he got a shit grade and tormented you for the rest of high school. It wasn’t as bad as what he did to nerdier kids, who’d get pushed around and the shit kicked out of them for the entire year while he was there. Your torment matched Steve Harrington’s; sure he mostly left you alone, but he definitely made his mark on your mind. He called you Blow Pop for a whole year, based on the baseless rumour that you’d sucked off your gym teacher, Mr. Carlson, who while being a young, hot man was a notoriously easy marker and not worth sleeping with to get a good grade. Although in retrospect, that was probably the kicker of the whole rumour.  Your reputation was ruined for the rest of school and even now the kids of Hawkins, now adults, still knew you as Blow Pop.

And you hated him for it, the whole thing left a sour taste in your mouth. He was so hot, you noted it the second he arrived, but his attitude was so awful that it ruined the rest of him. And once you were Blow Pop, you lost all interest in him, no matter how tight his jeans were.

You wanted to run, but you couldn’t abandon the drunken girls cheering you on, so you used his hand to pull yourself onstage and saunter over to the chair. “Well, come on Romeo, give me a show.” You said through a gritted smile, taking your seat in the chair. Billy nodded, matching your uncomfortable expression.

He started into his number, pulling off his ridiculous leather vest, throwing it offstage and revealing more of his well oiled chest. He rolled his body, running a hand up his chest and through his hair, running his tongue over his lips with a smirk. You watched the girls as they hollered, sticking dollar bills into the waistband of his chaps, lapping up his attention. This continued for most of the song, thrusting and grinding into the open air, ripping off the legs of this chaps, revealing his black jockstrap and earning whoops from the whole bar. You wanted to laugh at the whole scene, to find it awful and gross, and it kind of was; here was this guy who ruled your high school dancing in front of you for cash. But mostly, it was hot. Like, really, really hot. He was honestly too good at this, it made the back of your neck sweat and your nerves burst into flames. You mind ran wildly with dirty images and thoughts you couldn’t get away from if you tried; rationale wasn’t quelling the fire he’d lit in your stomach. He only turned back to you when the coda hit, lip-syncing along with the words. He rolled his lips over yours, straddling you gently and running his hands over your arms, bringing your hands to touch his chest and abs.

“This is really weird…” you muttered, more to yourself than him, letting your smile drop away into a look you hoped didn’t come off as completely lustful and desperate, hoping he’d either stop or finally touch you. Of course, he did neither.

“It’ll be over soon, just till the last chorus, then you’re free.” He replied softly, thrusting into you gently. “Just touch my abs, it’ll give your friends something to laugh about and earn me better tips.”

You obeyed, running a hand over him as he got up, coming behind you to give this look of longing in your reach. You let out a heated sigh, which was mostly fake, letting your head lull to the side as you sighed, earning a scream from Elizabeth, who’d long stopped crying.

“You’re really sticky.” You whispered and you swore for a brief moment, Billy broke, his smirk turning into a tiny smile he was working hard to hold back. He came back around, pulling your hands to rest on his hips as he went back to thrusting and wriggling. You chuckled “And you’re wearing glittery eyeliner, what a treat I’m getting today.” Just as he was about to stand, the song coming to an end, you ran your ring finger up his spine. He shivered involuntarily, his gaze coming back down to you, quirking his eyebrow.

Billy didn’t like that you were here. He didn’t like that he was dancing on you. And he certainly didn’t like how absolutely gorgeous you’d become. Sure, he remembered you well enough from high school, but if he hadn’t? He probably would’ve taken you home and screwed your brains out. It left this uneasy tension for the whole dance. Usually, he’d focus on the bride to be, but with you being so…different and obviously not being the bride herself, he found himself keeping a distance to keep him professional. But he couldn’t stop the shiver when you touched him on your own. And you noticed, you smirked at him liked you’d found some secret trick. He wanted so badly to wipe that smirk off your lips.

You shrugged easily as he looked at you curiously, standing as the song ended and pulling the wad of dollar bills Amber had given you from your bra, handing it to him easily as you walked off. You jumped off the stage, grinning as your fellow bridesmaids screamed, coming to hug you and grab your arm, declaring that he was so hot.

“Come on girls, my hands are all sticky now, let’s get out of here.” You said, pulling your purse off the back of the chair, walking off towards the exit. For a brief moment, you looked back, desperate for another look.

Billy was already gone, much to your disappointment, it was as though you’d dreamt him and you’d wake up at home drenched in sweat and soaked. He might as well have puffed into a cloud of smoke and glitter and vanished, the chair was gone too. But you knew it happened. And you felt so stupid-you’d just been played by a stripper.

[thegingertrekkie]

Chapter 3: Walking on air

On Ao3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020867/chapters/50022080

“Katsuki exploded at the Vice-Admiral!?” Uraraka blurted out with a heavy slur, waving wildly at a passing waitress and pointing at her empty shot glass “That idiot! No wonder they promoted you over him!” 

She burst out in flamboyant laughter, slamming the table and causing a clash of shot glasses.  Midoriya smiled uncomfortably, doing his best to try to counteract her ruckus and keep his full glass from tipping over and spilling onto their table. When Uraraka invited him out for drinks, Midoriya had imagined a night of nostalgia with an intimate part of his past in a cozy restaurant, not this. It must have been a sight. He spent the night, being dragged through the town, from bar to bar by an adorable, round-faced science officer, eventually ending in some of the raunchiest strip clubs in San Francisco. Midoriya had never been in such a scandalous place in his entire life. Women in all shapes, sizes, and species danced on floating platforms near the ceiling, their bioluminescent features, both natural and artificial, and  glowed under the black lights. The waitresses were all covered from head to toe in colorful paint and carrying large trays with filled with delicately balanced shot glasses. If the young captain had realized this is where Uraraka wanted to go, he wouldn’t have been sporting a Starfleet uniform which was attracting unwanted attention. Bodies were constantly brushing up against Midoriya in the packed room. Some were touching him on purpose, groping his triceps and whispering inappropriate things in his ear as they passed. He focused his attention squarely on his drink,keeping his head down and blocking out the noise. Uraraka on the other hand seemed to be having a great time, taking shot after shot like it was her last night to live. The staff seemed to like her too, slipping her free drinks and appetizers. 

“I mean, I guess? Kacchan is a higher rank than I am… and he has more experience.” Midoriya had to yell to be heard over the bone-rattling music. 

“You’re so gloomy, Deku, I thought you had gotten over that!” He appreciated the sentiment, even if it was shouted into his ear at point blank.

She was practically sitting on top of Midoriya. His face blushed a deep red color from the contact. Did she mean to be this flirtatious? His hand rested on her shoulder awkwardly, gently guiding her tipsy rocking trajectory away from his face. There was a drunk, but familiar and warming smile plastered across her face. Uraraka swayed back towards Midoriya, getting so close that the synthahol fumes singed his nostrils.

“Come dance with me!”

Midoriya was yanked on to the dance floor, nearly tripping over his own feet. He steadied himself and guided Uraraka towards the door. She called him a buzzkill. She was right, he thought. Uraraka was clearly too drunk to find a transporter booth in the city by herself, so Midoriya hailed a cab. A yellow hover car stopped in front of the pair and Midoriya shepherded Uraraka inside; she giggled as she toppled onto him in the stuffy vehicle. 

“Where am I sending us to?” He waited for a response while smiling apologetically at the driver, who looked exhausted and annoyed. 

They weren’t the first belligerent young couple of the night and probably wouldn’t be his last. Uraraka mumbled something incoherent and snuggled up against Midoriya’s chest. With a sigh, he gave the driver the address to his temporary housing and wrapped an arm around Uraraka. She was as soft as he remembered. They sat together in silence for about half an hour, with the low hum of the hovercar lulling them into a cozy calm. For the first time in one of the longest days of his life, Midoriya finally had the time to think and soak it all in. The assignment, Bakugo’s ego… and, whatever was happening right now; it was all so overwhelming. 

“Do you ever miss this?” a soft voice whispered through Midoriya’s involuntary flinch.

The young woman in his arms shifted and looked up at him with a kind, yet somber smile. Midoriya squeezed Uraraka’s arm gently.

“Of course I do…” He sighed, looking out the window, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can talk about this now.”

Uraraka hummed in response and wrapped her arms around Midoriya’s waist, rousing a squeak in surprise. The driver grumbled something in Telerite as he eyed the pair in his rear view mirror. Midoriya offered another apologetic smile and the driver rolled his deeply-set eyes. The vehicle hummed to a stop outside a tall apartment building. Midoriya looked up at the building in awe, from the ground he couldn’t even see the roof and the whole building shone like a beacon in the night. Starfleet had never housed him in such a nice place before. Uraraka was all dead weight as Midoriya hauled her out of the vehicle, thanking the driver repeatedly as the man dismissed them with a huff. Scooping Uraraka into his arms, Midoriya carried her bridal-style up to the apartment. The room was incredible, larger than his house had been growing up and furnished with extremely up-to-date tech and furniture. 

“Ooh~ the Captain’s suite” Uraraka said with a sing song voice, kicking her heels off her feet. 

There was a gift basket on the kitchen table filled with flowers and a bottle of Aldeberan Whiskey. Uraraka squirmed out of Midoriya’s arms and grabbed the bottle, holding it above her head like it was a trophy. She giggled something about “the party continuing” and rummaged through the cabinets while Midoriya searched for a card in the gift basket. The glass of whiskey was shoved into his hands and he couldn’t help but grimace at the smell. The stuff was crazy expensive, only meant for special occasions, but Midoriya never liked the taste of synthohol. Uraraka took an experimental sip and hummed with satisfaction before downing her entire glass like water. 

“You must have friends in high places” She said, pouring herself another full glass.

“Yeah… I’ve been getting that a lot lately…” Midoriya muttered, setting his glass down and reaching over to take Uraraka’s drink away from her. “I think you’ve had enough for one night,… Since when do you drink so much?”

Lucky, she gave up her drink willingly and stumbled towards the bedroom, her fingers brushing against Midoriya’s arm as she passed. The look on Uraraka’s face made his heart skip a beat. Even after years of not seeing each other she had the ability to make him feel like a school boy. They had this dynamic ever since they met, Uraraka was kind and unintentionally flirtatious and she would always reduce him to a shy, babbling mess. It took almost a year of knowing each other for him to finally be able to hold a conversation with her. Twiddling his thumbs nervously, Midoriya followed Uraraka to the bedroom. The young woman flung herself on the bed, giggling playfully and patting the space next to her, signalling for Midoriya to lay down next to her. He opted to sit on the very edge of the bed as far away from the intoxicated Uraraka. 

“It’s late…” Midoriya mumbled, flinching when Uraraka grabbed his hand and made him cup her cheek. 

“You’re too nice, Deku…” she nuzzled against his hand “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind~”

“I… I just don't know if I can handle this kind of pressure. If it was just the Captain’s seat, I’m sure I would be fine, but with Kacchan… You know that we go way back, but we still can’t communicate with each other at all. Now he’s my second-in-command. How can I run a starship smoothly when I know I'm going to have to fight Kacchan about every decision I have to make. I have a week before the debrief to try to talk to him, but I doubt he’ll let me even look at him. It’s impossible to have a relationship with hi-”

“I know what you mean!” Uraraka blurted out, cutting Midoriya off mid-sentence “That man is impossible to have a relationship with. He doesn’t listen. He won't have a meaningful conversation. There was never an “us”, only him.”

“An ‘us’?” Midoriya stammered, he felt like his brain just short circuited “Did you... date Kacchan?!”

“It was a mistake” she grumbled, letting go of Midoriya’s hand and letting her head fall back onto the pillow “I saw him as a challenge. I mistook his behavior for respect; an acknowledgment of me abilities; my competence, but was like everything else, just another facet of his hangups.” “You were better than Katsuki in almost every way”.

Midoriya grimaced, not wanting to think too deeply into Uraraka’s words. He stood up with a sigh, turning to look back at the first woman he had loved as she drifted off to sleep. Midoriya got a glass of water and quietly placed it on the nightstand, taking a moment to brush some hair out of Uraraka’s face. A small chirp from Midoriya’s communicator broke the silence and his answered it as he left the room, closing the door behind him.  

“This is Midoriya”

“I only have a few seconds to talk, but I want to let you know…” a kind voice said “Young man, I am so proud of you” 

“All Might” Midoriya’s words wavered as tears collected at the corners of the corners of his eyes as a flurry of mixed emotions washed over him “Thank you for everything you've done for me but… but…”

“No buts Young Midoriya” All Might interjected “I know you have what it takes to be a great Captain you just need a chance to show everyone what you're capable of. Here’s your chance.”

“But All Mig--”

“--I sent you a bottle of Aldeberan Whiskey for a reason. Take this week to settle your nerves. Good luck, Young Midoriya”