#I HAD TO SHUT MY LAPTOP JESUS CHRIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[biomic]

WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SUPPOSED TO DO WHEN THE PRIME MINISTER OF JAPAN TRANSFORMS INTO DON MOMOTARO AND TRIES TO FUCK YOU

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[brookediamonds]

heyy i requested a similar prompt to another author but i think they went MIA 😞

fem!reader who used to be apart of iron dragons moved to california and joined miyagi do. Miguel and her started to get close but one day before the sekai taikai, reader catches Miguel and Sam together. Feeling betrayed and revengeful, she transfers back to iron dragons without the knowledge of anyone from miyagi do and it's not until the captains war that miyagi do and miguel see her as the female captain alongside Axel. she's sensei wolf's protegee and Axel's "close friend" (!endgame Axel). maybe where miguel feels jealous and guilty when he sees reader and axel together and close 😣

i see her in the back of my mind | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: After years of pining after your best friend, you're crushed to find out it's been all in your head when you catch him with someone else. In attempt to move on, you take the first opportunity to leave home and start new. But two years later, when you run into Miguel again, it tests the person you are today and sends your current close friend, Axel Kovačević, into a state of protectiveness.

Word count: 6.7k Warning: None, angst, fluff, friends to lovers

gif is not mine

The windshield wipers slapped back and forth, fighting against the rain that wasn't heavy enough to warrant their speed. 

You turned them down a notch and swallowed the lump in your throat that had been there since fifth period.

Miguel and Sam. Sam and Miguel.

The image kept replaying in your head like some fucked-up GIF that wouldn't stop looping. 

His hand on her waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her yellow sweater. Her palm flat against his chest, right over the stupid Metallica logo he'd drawn on his white tee with a Sharpie last week when you both got bored in chemistry.

"Shit!" you shouted, swerving a little too sharply around a pothole. The car behind you honked, and you flipped them off without looking. 

Not your problem they couldn't handle a little defensive driving.

The kiss hadn't even been that good. You could tell from twenty feet away in the school hallway. 

Not that you'd spent time imagining kissing Miguel. Except you had.

For approximately three years, two months, and sixteen days. Not that you were counting.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel as you pulled up to a red light.

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder. His name flashed across the screen, and your stomach twisted into a familiar knot that was equal parts hope and nausea.

You let it ring. Let him wonder where you disappeared to after school. Let him worry. 

The light turned green, and you pressed the gas pedal hard enough to make the tires squeal.

Rain streaked across your windshield in angry lines, matching your mood perfectly. 

You pulled into your driveway with enough force to make the suspension groan in protest. 

The house was empty, mom wouldn't be home until seven, and dad was working from the office today. 

The stairs creaked under your heavy footsteps as you trudged up to your bedroom, backpack hanging off one shoulder. 

You kicked the door shut behind you with enough force to make your collection of concert tickets flutter on the corkboard.

The same concert you and Miguel attended with sensei Lawrence last summer. 

"Dammit," you muttered tossing your back pack to the corner of your bedroom.

You sighed heavily plopping down on to your bed, the mattress bouncing beneath you. 

Your phone buzzed again. And again. And again.

"Jesus Christ," you hissed, finally grabbing it. Three more texts from Miguel.

Where'd you go?

Are you ok?

Can we talk?

You tossed the phone onto your pillow face-down, as if not seeing the screen could erase what you'd witnessed. 

The rain tapped against your window in an uneven rhythm, like someone trying to get your attention. You ignored it, just like you were ignoring Miguel.

Your laptop sat on your desk, and you pulled it open, hoping mindless scrolling might numb the ache spreading through your chest. 

You open a new tab for your emails, and see there’s a follow up letter from sensei Kreese about a dojo he’s been talking to you about. 

Clicking on the recent message, your eyes scan over the long digital letter:

IRON DRAGONS INTERNATIONAL TEAM - INVITATION TO HONG KONG

"Wait, what?" you whispered, clicking it open before your brain could process what you were seeing.

The email loaded, its professional letterhead emblazoned with a sleek red dragon logo that coiled around the words "Elite Combat Sports Federation."

"Dear [Your Name],

Following your exceptional performance at the West Coast Regional Tournament and based on Sensei Kreese's recommendation, we are pleased to extend an invitation for you to train with the Iron Dragons in Hong Kong for our summer intensive program.

Our scouts were impressed by your technical precision and mental fortitude. We believe you possess the raw talent and dedication necessary to compete with our competitive team…"

The email continued, detailing a two year contract with international competitors, world-class instructors, and housing in the heart of Hong Kong. 

All expenses paid. Your eyes widened with each line, heart pounding against your ribs like it wanted out.

Hong Kong, China. You jumped up from your bed, pacing across the worn carpet, re-reading the email three times to make sure it wasn't some elaborate joke. 

"Holy shit," you whispered, running your fingers through your hair. "Holy shit!"

This was everything you'd been working toward since you first stepped into the dojo four years ago.

The bruises, the sprains, the 5 AM training sessions before school, all of it suddenly worth it.

You imagined yourself walking through neon-lit streets, training in ancient dojos, competing with the best of the best. 

A chance to be seen by people who mattered in the martial arts world.

Your fingers reached for your phone automatically, muscle memory taking over before your brain could catch up. 

Miguel's contact was already pulled up, thumb hovering over the call button when the image flashed again—his face connecting with hers, not too long ago. 

The excitement that had momentarily lifted you crashed back down, replaced by a hollow feeling that spread through your chest like spilled ink.

Not anger anymore, just a deep, aching sadness that made your shoulders slump.

Miguel would have been the first person you called. Always. But now…

Instead, you dial the number below the dojo name at the bottom and make your decision that you know will change everything for the better. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

2 years later...

Hong Kong had changed almost everything about you. The way you moved, more fluid now, like water finding its path.

The way you carried yourself, chin up, shoulders back, eyes forward. 

But some things hadn't changed at all. Like the way your heart raced before a competition. 

The way you bounced on your toes to burn nervous energy. And the way you still occasionally thought about what might have been if you'd stayed in California.

Your parents were supportive enough to let you go, and venture out. They always wanted you to find yourself and be the best you could when it came to karate. 

So when sensei Kreese took you under his wing and helped you find the Iron Dragons, your parents were on board to help you achieve your dreams. 

Which lead you here, to the Sekai Taikai, the world tournament of international dojo’s that come together to fight for the championship.

"Nervous?" The voice came from behind you, deep and accented, familiar enough now that you didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"No," you responded confidently, pivoting on your heel to face Axel, your training partner for the 2 years. 

Your foot caught on the edge of the practice mat, sending you stumbling forward.

You crashed into Axel’s chest, his strong hands catching your shoulders before you could completely demolish what little dignity you had left.

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your palms where they were splayed against his green gi. 

His dark eyes crinkled at the corners, amusement dancing in them like firelight.

"Not nervous at all, I see," he teased, steadying you with a gentle squeeze. "Very convincing performance."

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. 

Two years training with elite fighters, and you still managed to trip over your own feet like an idiot. Some things really hadn't changed.

"Just testing your reflexes," you said, straightening your gi with an exaggerated flick of your wrists. "Good to know you're alert. Might need those quick hands today."

Axel raised one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in that half-smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. 

The one that said he knew exactly what bullshit you were selling and was choosing to buy it anyway.

"My reflexes are perfect," he said, his Croatian accent wrapping around the words like silk. "Unlike your balance, apparently."

You narrowed your eyes at him, recognizing the challenge in his voice.

Your time spent together had taught you to read Axel Kovačević better than anyone. 

The slight tilt of his head, the way he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, he was baiting you.

His stance shifted subtly, the change so slight most people would miss it, but you'd spent hundreds of hours training with him.

You knew what was coming.

"Don't you dare—" you started, but he was already moving.

His hand shot out, a lazy jab that you easily deflected, slapping it away with your forearm.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, the closest he ever came to a full smile when he wasn't actively laughing at your expense.

You countered with a half-hearted knife-hand strike aimed at his ribs, which he blocked with practiced ease, his forearm connecting with yours in a satisfying thwack.

The familiar rhythm of sparring settled over you both, the anxiety about the upcoming tournament dissolving into the background.

"Your form is sloppy today," he points out, his eyes never leaving yours as he circled you slowly. "Distracted by something? Or someone?"

"Yeah, your massive ego is taking up all the oxygen in the room," you fired back, feinting left before throwing a roundhouse kick that stopped just short of his thigh. 

He caught your ankle in his large hand, holding it suspended between you.

For a moment, you were perfectly balanced, trusting him not to let you fall.

"My ego?" His eyebrow arched higher, those unique blue eyes narrowing playfully as he held your leg captive. "Says the person who bragged about breaking three boards with one strike for twenty minutes yesterday."

"It was four boards, and it was impressive as hell," you corrected, using his grip on your ankle as leverage to hop closer, throwing him off balance.

His eyes widened slightly at your unexpected move. You smirked as he stumbled back a half-step, his pale skin flushing along his cheekbones.

He shook his head, releasing your ankle but not before his thumb traced a quick circle against your skin, so fast you might have imagined it if not for the trail of heat it left behind.

You landed gracefully, finding your center again as you circled each other in the practice area.

"You know," Axel said, his voice low enough that only you could hear, "when we first met, I thought you were just another American with more confidence than skill."

You lunged forward with a quick jab that he deflected, his forearm sliding against yours with practiced precision. "And now?"

"Still American," he replied with that half-smile, as he dodged your next strike. "But your skill..." 

His movements slowed for just a moment, those unusual eyes studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. "Your skill is undeniable."

Something in his voice made your breath catch. These moments caught you off guard, when his usual quiet arrogance gave way to something genuine, something that felt like respect.

"Undeniable, huh?" you said, circling him with deliberate steps. "That's almost a compliment, Kovačević. Better be careful or people might think you actually like me."

Axel's eyes followed your movement, a predatory focus that somehow never felt threatening when it came from him. 

"I tolerate you," he corrected, though the warmth in his voice betrayed him. "There's a difference."

"Uh-huh," you said, throwing a lightning-fast front kick that he caught with both hands this time. "That's why you spent three hours helping me perfect my hurricane kick last week. Because you 'tolerate' me."

"I was bored," he shrugged, releasing your foot. "And your technique was painful to watch."

"You’re painful to watch," you snap back jokingly. 

Axel snorts, his green-ringed blue eyes catching the light as he shifts positions, moving into a defensive stance that's become as familiar to you as your own reflection. 

He's about to respond when you hear sensei Wolf call out for you both. 

"Time to head in," he says simply before walking away, leaving you two alone.

You take a deep breath, which Axel notices and lays a hand on your shoulder. 

Wordlessly, he reassures you and you both head into the arena, ready to face the competition. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Miyagi-Do. Cobra Kai. Both names make your stomach twist as you read the names lined up with your dojo for Captain’s War. 

Out of all the random selections, and they had to be in your first category?

Your team decides to attack the other team first, leaving Cobra Kai to approach Miyagi-Do first. 

Fortunately, your four teammates impressively protect you and Axel from the opposing team, leaving you to fight the last three fighters on Cobra Kai. 

You easily take their female captain down with a karate version of a Fujiwara armbar technique sensei Wolf taught you last summer. 

But the minute you stand up straight to go stand by Axel, your co-captain who just won his match as well, your eyes interlock from across the mat. 

With Miguel. 

You can see the look of genuine surprise written across his face, those dark brown eyes widened with shock. 

He’s standing next to Sam, who is just as shocked as he is, with the rest of your old teammates and sensei, sensei Lawrence.

Axel notices your lingering stare at the team across from you, and furrows his eyebrows when he see’s them, specifically, Miguel looking back at you a certain way. 

The tournament announcer's voice fades to a muffled drone as you stand frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from Miguel's face. 

Two years have changed him, his jaw is sharper, shoulders broader, hair styled differently, but his eyes are exactly the same. 

The same eyes that used to crinkle at the corners when you made him laugh. The same eyes you'd avoided in the hallway that last day.

Axel shifts beside you, his presence solid and warm at your shoulder. You feel rather than see his attention move from you to Miguel and back again, those observant eyes missing nothing.

"That's them," he says quietly, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. It's not a question.

Your throat tightens. "Yeah."

Axel's hand brushes against yours, a fleeting touch that could be accidental but isn't. 

His fingers are warm, briefly tangling with yours before he shifts his body slightly, positioning himself between you and Miguel's stare like a human shield.

"Come on," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. "Sensei is waiting."

His hand finds the small of your back, not pushing, just guiding with a gentle pressure that grounds you to the present. 

The touch is protective without being possessive, and something about it makes your heart stutter in your chest.

The protective gesture isn't lost on you, it's so unlike Axel's usual hands-off approach that it momentarily distracts you from the shock of seeing your old friends.

Your feet move automatically, following his lead as he navigates you back to your team. 

"You okay?" Sam asks as she watches Miguel watch Axel place his hands on you. 

"Fine," Miguel breathes, ignoring the turning in his stomach as he sees the corners of your lips tug up when you look up at your male captain. 

You used to look at him like that. 

Sensei Wolf is smirking down at you when you return alongside with Axel. 

"Great job implementing that MMA strategy into your fight," Wolf compliments you, sending a sense of satisfaction through you. 

"Thank you, sensei," you nod, appreciating his acknowledgement. 

"Next up are individual fights, and then bo-staff 1-on-1’s," he explains.

When you’re standing in front of your sensei, the past you left behind is soon forgotten, and you’re ready for the next category. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

The tournament's food court buzzes with activity, a cacophony of different languages mingling with the clatter of plastic trays and the hiss of soda fountains. 

Teams from every corner of the world cluster around tables, some celebrating early victories, others strategizing for upcoming matches. 

The air smells like a weird mix of fried food, sports drinks, and the faint tang of antiseptic from the first aid station.

You balance your tray carefully, navigating through the crowd toward the corner table where Axel has already claimed territory. 

He sits with his back to the wall, long legs stretched out, scrolling through his phone with a slight furrow between his brows. 

"They were out of those protein bars you like," you announce, sliding into the seat across from him. "So I got you this weird energy drink instead. The lady swore it tastes like blueberries, but I'm pretty sure it's just chemicals and lies."

Axel looks up, tucking his phone away as his eyes land on the electric blue liquid.

He picks up the bottle, examining the label with suspicion.

"This says it contains 'essence of victory,'" he reads, his accent curling around the words with dry amusement. "Very scientific."

"Well, you better drink it then," you say, unwrapping your sandwich. "We need all the victory essence we can get after seeing that Brazilian team's forms. That girl with the red highlights was like a human tornado."

Axel snorts, but uncaps the bottle and takes a cautious sip. His face immediately contorts into an expression of such profound disgust that you nearly choke on your first bite of food.

"Oh my god," you laugh, covering your mouth. "Your face!"

"This," he says with quiet horror, staring at the bottle like it personally offended his ancestors, "tastes like someone melted a blue crayon into window cleaner."

You're laughing so hard now that tears spring to your eyes. "You- You did not have to be so dramatic!” 

You're still laughing when Axel slides the offensive drink toward you with two fingers, as if minimizing contact might somehow protect him from further assault on his taste buds.

"You try it," he challenges, one eyebrow raised. "Since you find my suffering so amusing."

"No way!" you push it back toward him. "I value my taste buds too much."

"Coward," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"Strategic," you counter, taking another bite of your sandwich. "Can't win gold if I'm dead from whatever that is."

Axel shakes his head, unwrapping his own lunch with methodical precision. 

"So," he says after a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "How's your shoulder?" 

He nods toward your right side where you'd taken a hard hit during the bo-staff competetion. You'd won, but not without cost.

"Fine," you say automatically, then amend when his eyebrow lifts skeptically. "Okay, it's a little sore. But nothing serious."

"Let me see," he wipes his hands off on the napkin to his left.

"It's fine, Axel, really," you protest, but he's already moved to sit beside you, the bench creaking slightly under his weight. 

His proximity sends a rush of warmth through you that has nothing to do with your sore shoulder.

"I'll be the judge of that," he says, voice low enough that only you can hear. "Remember Taipei? When you said your ankle was 'just a little sore' and then we found out it was sprained in three places?"

"That was different," you mutter, but you're already shifting to give him better access, dropping your sandwich onto the tray.

His fingers are gentle as they probe your shoulder through your team jacket, finding the tender spot with unerring accuracy. You wince slightly, and his touch immediately lightens.

"Hmm," he hums, the sound vibrating through his chest. "It might be strained. Not serious, but we should put ice on it before the finals."

His hand lingers on your shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth almost absently as he studies your face. 

You're suddenly aware of how close he is, his warm breathe softly hitting your ear. 

"I told you it wasn't bad," you say, but your voice comes out softer than intended.

"You also told me that energy drink would taste like blueberries," he counters, his lips quirking up at one corner. "Forgive me if I question your judgment."

You laugh, shoving him gently with your good arm. "That was the vendor, not me! I was just the messenger of that chemical disaster."

"Chemical disaster," Axel agrees, but he's smiling now, a real smile that transforms his usually serious face into something that makes your heart skip. "An accurate description."

His hand slides from your shoulder down your arm in a casual touch that somehow doesn't feel casual at all.

The spot where his fingers traced your skin tingles with phantom warmth.

"Your poor taste buds," you tease, picking up your sandwich again. "Maybe you should—"

The words die in your throat as a shadow falls across your table. 

You look up, sandwich halfway to your mouth, and time seems to stretch like taffy, pulling thin and slow around you.

Miguel stands there, one hand gripping the strap of his gym bag so tightly his knuckles are white, the other hand shoved deep in the pocket of his white gi.

"Hey," he says, the single syllable hanging in the air between you like a physical thing.

Axel goes perfectly still beside you, his body a solid wall of warmth against your side. 

You feel your mouth go dry, sandwich forgotten in your hands.

Two years of imagined conversations, of what-ifs and should-have-saids, and now Miguel is standing right in front of you looking like he's seen a ghost.

"Hey," you finally manage, your voice steadier than you feel.

Miguel shifts his weight from one foot to the other, dark eyes flickering between you and Axel.

The silence stretches, charged with unspoken words.

"You look..." Miguel starts, then stops, swallows. "Different. Good different. I mean—you look good."

Axel's presence beside you feels suddenly more significant, his shoulder brushing yours as he straightens.

You can practically feel the tension radiating off him.

"Thanks," you say, because what else is there to say? "You too."

Miguel nods, a jerky motion that betrays his nerves.

"I didn't know you were competing," Miguel says, eyes darting between you and Axel. "I mean, I knew you were training somewhere, but Hong Kong? That's... wow."

The silence that follows feels like quicksand, pulling you deeper with every second. 

You can sense Axel's eyes on your profile, observing, calculating, reading the situation with that uncanny perception of his.

"Iron Dragons," you finally say, gesturing vaguely to the logo on your jacket. "It's been... amazing."

Miguel nods again, shifting his weight. His eyes drift to Axel, question written clearly across his features.

"This is Axel," you say, trying to fill the awkward silence. "My co-captain—"

"And boyfriend," Axel interrupts smoothly, his accent thickening slightly as he extends his hand to Miguel. "Axel Kovačević."

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you manage to keep your expression neutral despite the shock rippling through you. 

Boyfriend? What the hell is he doing?

Miguel's eyes widen almost imperceptibly before he takes Axel's outstretched hand.

You watch their knuckles whiten as they shake, neither willing to be the first to let go.

"Miguel Diaz," he responds, his gaze flicking between you and Axel. "We, uh, we used to train together. Back in California."

"Yes," Axel says, his voice warm but his eyes cool as winter. "I've heard all about The Valley."

He drapes his arm casually across the back of your chair, not quite touching you but definitely marking territory. 

The gesture is so unlike him that you almost laugh—Axel, who normally maintains a careful distance in public, suddenly transformed into this possessive figure.

You shoot him a quick glance, trying to communicate a silent "what the hell?" with your eyes, but his attention remains fixed on Miguel, his expression perfectly pleasant and completely unreadable.

"So, boyfriend, huh?" Miguel says, his voice catching slightly on the word. "That's... great. How long have you two been...?"

"Two years," Axel says smoothly, his fingers finding the nape of your neck beneath your hair, tracing small circles that send shivers down your spine. "Almost since the day she arrived in China."

Your jaw nearly drops, but you manage to keep your expression neutral, though your pulse pounds in your ears.

"When you know, you know," Axel continues, his eyes never leaving Miguel's face. There's something almost predatory in his gaze, like a wolf protecting its territory.

"I watched her first practice with the team and thought, 'This one is different.'" His thumb brushes against the sensitive skin behind your ear, and despite your confusion, goosebumps erupt down your arm.

"She broke one of our teammates nose that day," Axel says, his voice taking on a warm, reminiscent quality that sounds so genuine. 

"He tried to intimidate her," Axel continues, his eyes softening as they flick to your face. "You remember? He said something about American fighters being all flash, no substance."

You do remember. The memory floods back with startling clarity—Jian's smirking face, the way the other students had fallen silent, waiting to see how the new girl would respond.

"And she just smiled," Axel says remembering that little half-smirk sitting on your lips that said you knew exactly what you were capable of doing. 

"And I remember thinking," Axel says, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always makes your stomach flutter, "this is someone who understands what it means to fight for respect."

As he speaks, your mind drifts back to that first day with the Iron Dragons. 

The memory is so vivid, the unfamiliar dojo with its high ceilings and walls decorated with ancient weapons, the smell of polish and sweat, the curious stares from two dozen fighters who'd trained together for years. 

You'd felt so alone, so far from home, until that moment when you'd stopped trying to fit in and simply showed them who you were.

The satisfying crunch when your fist connected with Jian's nose. The shocked silence that followed. 

And then Axel, standing apart from the others, those unusual blue-green eyes studying you with quiet approval.

"I knew I had to know her,” he finishes.

You stare at Axel in awe, your face warming up at his words. 

The way he's recounting the memory, it's like he's describing a moment you both shared, something intimate and precious. 

And the thing is, he's not wrong. 

That is exactly how it happened, except for the part where he apparently fell for you on the spot.

At least that’s what you think. 

Miguel stares at Axel, then at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something that looks almost like resignation. 

"That's... wow," Miguel says, running a hand through his hair. "I guess Hong Kong was good for you."

There's a question in his eyes, one that's been there since he walked up to your table, but you can feel it fading now as he watches Axel's hand at the nape of your neck, the easy way you've leaned into his touch without even realizing it.

"It was," you confirm, your voice softer than intended. "It is."

Axel's fingers trace a pattern on your skin that feels like a question of his own. 

You find yourself leaning further into his touch, not even realizing how natural it feels until you catch Miguel tracking the movement.

"Well," Miguel says, shifting his weight again, the vinyl floor squeaking beneath his sneakers. "I should probably get back. Semi-finals start in twenty minutes."

"Good luck," you offer, the words feeling both too much and not enough for everything that hangs unspoken between you.

Miguel nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It doesn't quite reach his eyes, which remain fixed on where Axel's fingers continue their gentle exploration of your nape.

"You too," he says. "Both of you."

He hesitates for a moment longer, as if there's something else he wants to say, something important perched on the tip of his tongue. 

"It's really good to see you," Miguel finally says, his voice dropping to something almost tender. "You look happy."

The statement hangs in the air, simple yet weighted with meaning.

"I am," you say, and as the words leave your mouth, you realize they're true. Not just a convenient answer to push Miguel away, but a genuine truth that settles warmly in your chest. "I really am happy."

You lean back slightly, your body finding the solid warmth of Axel behind you, his presence steady and grounding. 

His arm shifts to accommodate you, wrapping more securely around your shoulders in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive.

Miguel's eyes track the movement, lingering on the point where your body connects with Axel's. 

Something flickers across his face—resignation, maybe, or acceptance—before he nods once, decisively.

"Good," he says softly. "That's—that's good."

His smile turns genuine then, though tinged with something that might be regret. 

"Bye," he says softly. 

"Bye, Miguel," you respond before he finally turns on his heel and walks back to his teammates waiting for him at another table across the room. 

You turn to Axel smirking, not bothering to move away from him even though Miguel is now well out of sight. 

The warmth of his arm across your shoulders feels too comfortable to abandon just yet, like slipping into your favorite sweater on a cold morning.

"Boyfriend, huh?" you spoke, your voice pitched low enough that only he can hear. "That's news to me. When exactly were you planning to let me know about our relationship status?"

Axel has the decency to look slightly abashed, a faint flush creeping up his neck to color his pale cheeks.

The red tint makes his unusual eyes stand out even more, the blue seeming brighter against the green rings around his irises.

"It seemed... efficient," he offers, though his arm remains firmly in place around your shoulders. 

You raise an eyebrow, fighting the smile that threatens to break across your face. "Efficient?"

"Efficient," Axel repeats, but there's a hesitation in his voice you've rarely heard before. 

His fingers absently trace patterns on your shoulder, sending little sparks of warmth through the fabric of your jacket. "I saw how he looked at you."

"And how was that?" you ask, unable to keep the curiosity from your voice.

Axel's eyes darken slightly, the blue-green depths shifting like an ocean before a storm. "Like he was seeing something precious he'd lost. Something he wanted back."

Your breath catches at the intensity in his voice. 

"So you decided to stake your claim?" you ask, trying to sound teasing, but your voice comes out softer than intended.

"No," Axel says, his voice dropping to that low register that always seems to vibrate through you like a physical touch. "I wanted him to understand what he threw away."

His eyes meet yours, direct and unflinching in that way that's uniquely Axel. 

No games, no pretense. Just truth, whether you're ready for it or not.

"The first day you walked into our dojo," he says, his voice so low you have to lean closer to hear him over the cafeteria noise, "with your shoulders back and your chin up like you were daring anyone to challenge you, I knew."

"Knew what?" Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

"That you were extraordinary." The words fall between you like stones into still water, creating ripples you can feel spreading through your chest. 

His words hang in the air between you, honest and bare in a way that steals your breath. 

The cafeteria noise fades to a distant hum as you search his face, looking for any hint of teasing or insincerity. 

But there's only Axel, waiting for your response with a stillness that betrays his nerves.

"You never said anything," you finally manage, your voice barely audible over the clatter of trays and distant conversations.

Axel's lips quirk up at one corner, not quite a smile but something softer, more vulnerable. 

"What was I supposed to say? 'Welcome to Hong Kong, I think you might be the most fascinating person I've ever met'?"

"That would have been a start," you say, your heart hammering against your ribs like it's trying to break free. "Instead of waiting two years and using Miguel as an excuse to finally say something."

Axel's fingers still against your shoulder, his eyes dropping briefly to study the table between you as if it might hold the right words.

"You were hurting," he says simply. "I could see it in the way you fought. Like you were trying to prove something to someone who wasn't even there."

Your breath catches in your throat. No one has ever read you so accurately before, seen through the layers you carefully constructed around yourself.

"I was waiting for the right moment," he admits, his voice carrying that slight rasp it gets when he's being completely honest. "And then I saw him looking at you, and suddenly I was afraid there wouldn't be a right moment if I waited any longer."

Suddenly you couldn't wait any longer either. The realization crashes through you like a wave breaking against the shore—this feeling has been building for months, maybe longer. 

In all those late-night training sessions when everyone else had gone home, the quiet conversations in broken English and halting Croatian as you both tried to bridge the language gap, the way his eyes always found yours across a crowded room.

"You know what?" you whisper, leaning closer until you can see the individual flecks of green circling his blue irises. "I'm tired of waiting for the right moment too."

Your hand finds the front of his jacket, fingers curling into the fabric as you pull yourself toward him. 

His eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his usually composed features before understanding dawns.

Time seems to slow as you close the distance between you. 

The first touch of his lips against yours is hesitant, questioning, a barely-there pressure that sends electricity sparking down your spine.

It's nothing like you imagined kissing Axel would be—and you have imagined it, in moments of weakness during sparring sessions, when his shirt would cling to his torso with sweat, or when he'd demonstrate a move with such fluid grace it made your breath catch.

No, this is softer, more tentative, as if he's afraid you might disappear if he presses too hard.

And then something shifts, like a key turning in a lock. 

His hand slides from your shoulder to cup the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer. 

The kiss deepens, transforms from a question into an answer, and suddenly you're drowning in sensation.

He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of that terrible blue energy drink, and somehow the combination is intoxicating. 

The cafeteria noise fades completely, replaced by the thundering of your heart.

His arms wrap around you, strong and secure, and you melt into him like you've found your way home after a long journey. 

The kiss deepens, and you're vaguely aware that you're in a public space, that your teammates could walk in at any moment, but you can't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pull away, breathless and dizzy, the noise slowly comes back into focus around you. 

Axel's eyes are darker now, the blue almost completely overtaken by dilated pupils, and there's a vulnerability in his expression that you've never seen before.

"I've wanted to do that since you broke Jian's nose," he confesses, his voice rough around the edges.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, genuine and free in a way you haven't felt in years. "That's a weird turn-on, Kovačević."

"Only for you," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. "Only ever for you."

The words settle into your bones like they've always belonged there, like they've been waiting for you to hear them.

You lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes to savor the moment.

"So," you whisper, not pulling away, "that boyfriend thing wasn't just for Miguel's benefit?"

You feel rather than see his smile, the slight shift in his muscles.

"Not just for him," Axel whispers back, his breath warm against your lips. 

"Though his face when I said it—" He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, a rare mischievous glint in his own. "Worth it."

You laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "You're terrible."

"And yet," he says, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips, "you kissed me anyway."

A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the gesture, so unexpectedly gentle from someone who can break boards with his bare hands. 

"Maybe I was just curious," you tease, even as your fingers intertwine with his.

His fingers tighten around yours, a silent reassurance that this moment is real. 

"Just curious?" he echoes, his voice pitched low enough that the words feel like they're traveling directly from his lips to your skin. "Should I be offended?"

You laugh, the sound light and free in a way you haven't felt in years. "Maybe. Or maybe you should convince me it was worth the wait."

The corner of his mouth lifts in that half-smile that's become so familiar over the past two years. 

The one that used to drive you crazy with its quiet arrogance but now sends warmth pooling in your stomach.

"A challenge?" Axel raises one eyebrow, his thumb tracing the delicate bones of your wrist. "You know I never back down from those."

"I'm counting on it," you murmur, surprised by your own boldness.

"Maybe I'm just curious too," Axel counters. "Curious about how long I can keep kissing you before Sensei Wolf sends a search party."

Axel doesn't release your hand, instead pulling you closer until your knees bump under the table. 

The contact sends a fresh wave of warmth through you.

"We have fifteen minutes," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear. His eyes search yours, suddenly serious. "But before we go back, I need to know..."

He pauses, and you're struck by how unusual it is to see Axel hesitate. 

He's always so certain, so measured in everything he does.

Axel's thumb traces an invisible pattern on your palm as his eyes study your face with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"I need to know," he continues, voice pitched so low you have to lean closer to hear him over the cafeteria noise, "if this is real for you. If it's not just about showing Miguel what he lost."

Axel Kovačević, the most confident fighter in the Iron Dragons, the man who once took down three opponents in under two minutes without breaking a sweat, is looking at you like you hold his heart in your hands.

"Axel," you say softly, squeezing his fingers between yours. "Miguel has nothing to do with this. With us."

You take a deep breath, your eyes never leaving his. 

The room bustles around you, but in this moment, it might as well be just the two of you in the entire world.

"When I left California, I was running away from something," you admit, your voice steady despite the vulnerability of the confession. "From Miguel, from what happened, from feeling like I wasn't enough."

Axel's expression softens, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your palm that somehow ground you, giving you the courage to continue.

"But somewhere between my first day at the dojo and you helping me hang string lights in my apartment because I was too short to reach the ceiling," you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I stopped running away and started running toward something." Your voice softens as you hold his gaze. "Toward you."

The confession hangs in the air between you, honest and raw. 

Axel's fingers tighten around yours, his usually stoic expression shifting into something open and soft that makes your heart ache.

"It's always been you," you whisper. "Not Miguel, not anyone else. You."

You slide your free hand up to cup his face, feeling his soft skin against your palm. 

Axel's eyes darken at your confession, the blue nearly disappearing as his pupils dilate. 

"You have no idea," he murmurs, his accent thickening with emotion, "how long I've waited to hear you say that."

His hand comes up to cover yours where it rests against his cheek, turning slightly to press his lips against your palm. 

The gesture is so tender, so unlike the fierce competitor you've trained beside, that melts your heart.

There’s an announcement over the PA system about the semi-finals starting soon, but it all fades to white noise as Axel slowly leans forward.

"We should go," he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. "The finals..."

But neither of you moves, caught in the gravity of this moment two years in the making.

"They can wait another minute," you murmur, your fingers sliding up to trace the sharp line of his jaw.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that half-smile that never fails to make your stomach flip. "Just one?"

"Maybe two," you concede, your own lips curving to match his.

His smile widens at your words, and there's something almost reverent in the way his eyes trace your face, like he's memorizing every detail. 

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with his strength in the ring.

"Two minutes," he agrees, his voice a low rumble that resonates through your chest. "But I should warn you—"

"What?" you whisper, already leaning in, drawn to him like gravity.

"Two minutes won't be enough," he murmurs, the words ghosting across your lips. "Not even close."

And then he's kissing you again, and this time there's nothing hesitant about it. 

His lips move against yours with purpose, with certainty, with two years of unspoken longing finally given voice. 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Masterlist

Taglist: @ggrgcribg

(a/n: here's a long one to make up for not writing these last few days, I just got a few more requests that are gonna be so fun to write, I can't wait for y'all to read them!! Don't forget to like, comment, reblog, love y'all! ps. also no hate to sam, that's my girl. don't pmo.)

[wlntrsldler]

I keep imagining the first time Luke and Mr. D met after Luke's hickeys/scratches went viral

LMFAOOOOO ANON THIS IS SENDING ME

here is how i think that conversation played out (suggestive content ahead):

"shit, five star, your dad is calling me," luke mumbled, eyes wide as he looked down at his phone. "he never calls me."

connor snicked from his bunk in the tour bus, "well, given that the whole internet is talking about you right now after the show you gave them last night, i'm not surprised."

"ha!" travis exclaimed, sitting up on his bed. "put it on speaker. i wanna hear him yell at you."

you rolled your eyes, "he's not gonna yell at you."

luke turned to you with hopeful eyes, "you think so?"

"well, he's probably not gonna yell at you," you scrunched your face up, rethinking your words, "like 55% chance he won't yell at you."

"i don't like those odds, babe."

"answer the fucking phone, luke."

luke clicked the green button on his screen, chewing on the nail of his thumb. he rolled his eyes, pressing the speaker button as travis kept egging him on. chris and clarisse opened the privacy curtain of chris' bunk to listen in on the drama.

"hey, mr. d," luke cleared his throat, ignoring the quiet giggles from the boys when his voice cracked. "what's up?"

"is my daughter with you?"

"say no," you whispered. so you were wrong about the odds. your dad was 100% about to yell at luke and you selfishly didn't want to get your ass handed to you just yet. you were going to avoid your dad's calls for as long as possible.

"uhh... no?"

"oh jesus fucking christ," you sighed, smacking your palm against your forehead, "that was soooo convincing."

you heard your dad type on his laptop before shutting it. there was some background noise that subsided after you heard the shut of a door. it seemed like your dad went into his office to get some privacy.

"hey, kid," your dad said, no doubt addressing you now.

"hey, dad," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, leaning down to speak into the mic of luke's phone. "how are you?"

"don't start with me," he said, "would it kill you both to not do whatever it is you do that results in those pictures? pictures that are all over the internet by the way!"

a snide remark was on the tip of luke's tongue, because yes, it would kill him to not do the things that resulted in the pink marks on his neck and the healing scratches on his back, but that didn't seem like the right response.

"dad, you never had an issue with them taking their shirts off during shows before. and luke has gone out on stage like that before."

luke cringed, remembering one too many instances where he'd gone out on stage with hickeys all over his neck. it felt like a lifetime ago now, as if ever since you walked into his life that past version of him was someone he didn't recognize anymore. he much preferred remembering the name of the girl who left him marked up, especially preferring that it was only you who did that to him.

"that was before he started dating my daughter!" he replied, "i don't want to know anything about your relationship, but i'm in an unfortunate situation where i happen to manage the career of your boyfriend's band so i have to deal with it sometimes. so for the love of god, please please, stop."

"i'm so sorry mr. d," luke mumbled, "i completely forgot about them and by the time i realized, it was too late."

you could practically see your dad pulling at his hair, a habit he had when he was in stressful or awkward situations. he didn't speak for a good thirty seconds and then he sighed, "just keep your goddamn shirt on."

luke gulped, "got it."

when your dad ended the call, the entire bus erupted in laughter, including you. luke's face was as red as a tomato as he groaned and buried his head in his pillow. your shoulders shook as you giggled, laying on top of him. he instantly turned his body to wrap his arms around you.

"that wasn't so bad," you cooed, running your fingers through his curls, "and that was a shit apology, baby. you were smug as hell on stage when people pointed out the scratches."

"i wasn't thinking of the consequences of my actions," he said, "i was caught up watching people connect the dots that my girlfriend is not only hot but a fucking animal in be--"

"okay, that's our cue," travis cut off, closing his curtain. connor followed his head, popping in his airpods. clarisse sent you a wink before she disappeared behind the curtain with chris.

"i'll stop leaving hickeys on you," you kissed his face, enjoying how flustered he got. "but i can't promise too much on the scratches."

"i'm gonna stop taking my shirt off at shows, i think," he mused, toying with the hem of the shirt you wore. "i don't think i can take another surprise call from your dad. i think it took years off my life."

"your fans will be highly disappointed," you teased, leaning over to his ear, "but if you're gonna keep your shirt on, does that mean hickeys on your abs is fair game?"

luke licked his lips, tugging on his own curtain to give you two some privacy, "absolutely."

[abbs-writes]

talk too much | Spencer Reid

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, lots of bad language, Spencer gets angry and can be kinda mean, reader talks way too much, crying, uh lots and lots of angst and idk what else

Authors note: hey so, a while back I had a different account (ive had many different accounts) but it was something along the lines of gizmo-writes or gizmo-writes-sfw and this was posted on there but my accounts have been deleted since then, so if it seems familiar it might be but I can confirm it's by me, it's been sitting in my notes lol

"Guys! Guys! I got something!" Garcia rushed into the conference room, setting her laptop on the table and turning on the tv. There you were, completely out of it, obviously with the way your head lolled back. You were heated up, bruised badly and your head was bleeding but you were obviously so out of it that you didn't even notice. "Where is this coming from?" Hotch asked as Garcia shook her head, "I-I don't know, it's pinging off to many towers, whoever is doing this is- is using so many different encryptions and firewalls." (genuinely don't know tech terminology im so sorry if this took y'all out of it I apologize) She was shaking, so worried about you she wasn't sure she could think straight.

Spencer was the same way, but he knew he couldn't think straight. The way you looked, where you were, reminded him so much of how Tobias Hankle had treated him. Every single aspect that he had tried so hard to forget was coming back to him now. The abuse, the drugs, the cravings. He held onto the chair with an iron grip, knuckles turning white. He didn't want to see you like this, he didn't like the thoughts running through his head right now. He didn't wanna see the abuse you were going to endure, he didn't want to hear your tortured screams. This was his own form of torture.

You really couldn't feel anything but you figured that was for the better. Your head rolled to the side, your eyes were open but everything was so blurry you couldn't even see. You could make up an outline of someone, someone tall. For a moment you felt joy, you felt safety. "Spence?" You said. But it was spencer, he was on the other side of a screen and when he heard his name, his heart broke. He wanted to be able to yell at you, tell you that it wasn't him, tell you to run even if you weren't sure if your legs could move. But he couldn't, he just had to sit there and watch.

"Not quite," The man said, walking closer to you so you could see him. Your eyes narrowed as you realized the man in front of you truly wasn't Spencer and was in fact some psycho. You jerked in your restraints, trying to punch whoever was in front of you but yet you couldn't move. "Good try," he chuckled coldly. "Jesus christ," you murmured, looking down to see your hands tied to the chair. "You're begging for someone who doesn't exist honey," the man said. You rolled your eyes at that, "seriously? Why do you care if I beg for someone you don't believe in? Besides i wasn't begging I was-" You were cut off with a sharp slap to your face.

Spencer really wished you weren't so catty sometimes. Sure, he liked it sometimes, especially when you were able to stick up for yourself or him when someone said something rude. But right now he was begging you to keep your mouth shut. "Was that really necessary? You could've just told me to shut up-" once again you were slapped again. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled at you. "Okay!" You yelled back. Spencer cringed, "why won't she just be quiet," he groaned. "Spence, she's trying-" JJ started but Spence stopped her, "I don't care what she was trying! She knows better than to fight back when she's unable to physically fight! All this will do is get her in more trouble!" He said, slamming his fist on the table as he watched you. "Kid, she's a smart girl." Derek tried to say but spencer shook his head, "She's not being smart right now." He said.

Spencer was right, you weren't being smart and deep down you knew that but god, you were so fucking angry. Angry at yourself, angry at the man in front of you. You don't even remember how you were taken, you don't remember what you did for this to happen, all you knew is it had to somehow be your fault. "Finally, she shuts up," the man said, grabbing your face and making you look up at him. "You're much prettier when you're quiet. Does your boyfriend ever tell you that? I bet he does because you can never seem to just shut the fuck up," he spat. You clenched your jaw at the mention of Spencer. "How the Fuck do you know about my boyfriend?" You asked, looking up at him angrily. "Why? Does that bother you when I mention him? Does it make you angry that i know about him?" He asked, squeezing your face to the point that it hurt. "Don't fucking touch him," you spat at him making the man pull back and wipe his space of your spit. "God, you're really fucking dumb aren't you?" He said. "Still smarter than you," you said.

Spencer couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch you dig yourself into a hole that he wasn't sure you'd come out alive. His jaw clenched as he watched you be tased, your head falling back as you cried out in pain. "Oh my god," Garcia said, shielding her eyes. Spencer forced himself to watch, he had to know, he had to see what happened so he would know how to help you when you got back. He needed to know, despite the fact that these images would be engrained in his brain forever.

"This isn't helping, we need to figure out where she is and I don't know how watching this will help." JJ spoke, half tired of watching you be tortured and half wanting to actually find you. "I don't see anything identifying in the background, no windows, no pictures." Emily pointed out. "She might say something if she knew he was filming. She may know where she is." Derek pointed out. "She can barely even see straight and with how much she's talking she might not even make it through the night," Spencer muttered. "Spence!" JJ said. "What?! I'm right! I love her but she never shuts the fuck up and right now it may cause her death but yet she's still too fucking stubborn to just shut the fuck up and pay attention," He spat. He was angry, he had every right to be. but his anger was misdirected at you. He was mad at the unsub, mad that a man took you and was holding you hostage and torturing you. He wasn't mad at you, a bit annoyed but never mad.

"Spencer, you are not helping us right now. We understand you're mad but you have no right to talk about her like that." JJ said. Spencer just shook his head, jaw clenching. "As much as you may hate this Reid, we need you. And what we need is for you to watch, to listen, see if her or she says something that may give us a hint. Can you do that? Or do I need to kick you out?" Emily asked, giving him a pointed look. "I understand, i Can do that." He said through gritted teeth. He finally sat down and just stared at the tv. He was thankful you couldn't hear him, he genuinely felt bad about what he said but he couldn't even apologize to you because you weren't here.

Your head fell forward after being tased multiple times finally stopped. "Will you be quiet now?" The man asked. You nodded, reluctantly. You wanted to speak but you were in so much pain you couldn't. You were shaking, you couldn't even move your head with how tired your body was. "Good, finally." He said, "now you can get a good look at this." The man said as he walked behind you. He grabbed your head roughly by your hair, pulling your head back to look up. You tried to focus your eyes but you couldn't, everything was so blurry and your head had started to hurt. "Do you see that? They can see you. They're watching. God, that's what makes this fun, knowing they're watching you but they can't do anything to help. Isn't that fun?" He asked. You didn't respond and obviously that made him angry. He yanked your head back by your hair making you let out a pathetic cry. "Answer me," he demanded. "Thought you didn't want me to talk?" You said tiredly. "You're a fucking brat you know that? I don't know how anyone puts up with you." He let go of your hair and your head fell forward once again.

Spencer closed his eyes tightly, breathing heavily. This was torture for him and now he knew the unsub was enjoying it. The unsub knew this wasn't only torture for you but for them too and he loved it. He hated every second of this, he hated every time you opened your mouth. It pained him, he knew you were angry, it didn't take a profiler to see that, but he just couldn't understand why you wouldn't stop talking back.

"I have to go out, you stay put okay?" He said, pushing your hair out of your face. It was oddly tender coming from a man who had just slapped you, tased you and pulled your hair and not in the enjoyable way. "Gotta make sure you look pretty for your boyfriend," he said. He then grabbed his keys and left. You couldn't think straight, everything was setting in so slowly. They were watching, you kept having to repeat that to yourself till you would believe it was true. You tried to lift your head but it just fell back down. You groaned, angry at yourself that you couldn't even look at the camera. You had something to tell them, you had seen the unsubs face and they hadn't. He wore a black ski mask around you and know you knew why, he had been filming this.

"B-bl-blue eyes," you spoke slowly, tiredly. You needed to get this out before you passed out again. Spencer raised his head to watch you. "H-he has blue eyes and brown hair." You had to stop to breathe. "S-scar on his face, left side on his cheek. P-please understand I am okay, i am strong," you croaked out. Your voice was betraying you and you hated it. It made you angry, making you clench your fists. "I can take It.. i-i don't know where I am.. it's the woods- i-I don't remember how I got here. Please- just find me," you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold back your tears. You dug your nails into the wood of the chair trying to calm yourself and ground yourself. Spencer had to stop himself from crying too, "Garcia, did you get that?" He asked. "Yes- yes I did. I'm looking. I'm searching. Uh blue eyes, dark hair, scar- uh- Jeffery Golden," She said looking at Spencer. "Name and address?" JJ asked. "Sending now," Garcia said. The team stood up and were quick to leave, Spencer included.

Garcia kept watch on you, once the team left she broke down and started crying. She had to constantly remind herself that you were okay but it was hard, especially when she was watching you fall apart in front of her eyes. They found the man, Jeffery Golden. But the problem was, you weren't there, you weren't in his house nor his job. You weren't there and that scared the shit out of Spencer. They had the man but no clue where you were and if they didn't find you soon, you may not survive due to your injuries. Sure, he could see the ones on the outside but he wasn't sure about any internal bleeding.

"Where is she?" Rossi asked the unsub who was sitting across the table from him. "Now where's the fun in telling you?" He asked, smirk playing in his face. "If you tell us where she is, we will tell them you cooperated. Now tell us where she is." Hotch said in his demanding tone. "Where's the boyfriend? I wanna talk to him," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Absolutely not, you tell us where she is and maybe we will talk about a deal." Rossi said. "Here's my deal, you let me talk to the doctor and then I'll tell you where she is." He said, still smirking.

With that Hotch and Rossi walked out. "Let me in there," Spencer immediately said. "No, we don't know if he's being honest," Hotch said. "That doesn't matter, if he's willing to talk then I should go in there." Spencer said. "He just wants to mess with you Reid, he has said it himself that he enjoys this." Rossi said. "I don't care, this is our only chance. Please just let me talk to him. Please," Spencer begged. Hotch shook his head, "Fine, but the second it goes wrong I will pull you out of there." He said. Spencer nodded before walking into the room.

"There he is, the stunning Dr. Spencer Reid." The unsub said, relaxing in his seat as Spencer and Hotch walked in. "How are you? How have you been?" He asked but no one spoke. Hotch sat down, "Reid," he said. Spencer stared at the guy as he sat down. "Oof, someone is angry, how can you truly be angry over someone like her? If anything I think she needs this. Someone needs to teach her to keep her mouth shut, arent I right, Dr. Reid?" He asked. Spencer was unwavering, showing no emotion. "Where is she?" Was all he asked. "Oh come on, give me something Spence! I know you think of her the same way I do. An annoying brat who has never learned to shut the fuck up and look where it got her. She needed to learn her lesson." He stated. Still he remained emotionless. "You said if we brought him in here, you would tell us where she is." Spencer said. "I said that and I may have lied. But come on, admit it. You hate her just like I do." He said. Spencer slammed his fists on the table, "I love her! Tell me where she is!" He yelled. Hotch stood up, "Reid, out," he said sternly. "No, Hotch he fucking knows where-" Hotch cut him off, "Out!" He said louder this time. Finally, Spencer listened and left the room. "I got something! Y/n said something about the woods so I looked into him-" Garcia was speaking fast but still Hotch stopped her, "Garcia," he said. "I think I have an address." Garcia said. She then immediately sent the address to the team and they were quick to be on their way.

Spencer was the first to find you, of course he was. He was on a mission and the mission was finding you. "Y/n, y/n, im here," he said, grabbing your face gently and pulling you up to look at him. You groaned in response as JJ undid your cuffs. "Look at me, tell me you hear me, please," Spencer begged. "You're so loud," you muttered, giving him a weak smile as your eyes slowly opened. God, it was good to see his face. "I know, im loud, i talk a lot, I worry, but god, im so happy you're okay," Spencer said, stroking your face. "I wouldn't say I was okay," you spoke so softly spencer could barely even hear you. But for once, he was so happy to hear your sass. "I know, the ambulance is coming. We'll get you checked out and you'll be okay." He said. He was the only thing keeping you from freaking out, from worry about the extensive list of injuries you'd have. It just felt so good to be in his hands again that you didn't care about your pain or injuries.

The ambulance showed up but god you were grateful. You felt so close to passing out and you didn't want to. You wanted to see Spencer, you wanted to remember his face just like he could remember yours. You wanted to memorize him, you wanted to love him. "Hey, it's okay, I'm still here." Spencer said as he held your hand in the ambulance. "Spence?" Your voice was soft and hard to hear through the oxygen mask. You pulled it down with your shaking hand. "Hey, no, no, you need that," Spencer said, trying to put it back but you shook your head. "N-no, im so sorry. Im sorry i talk too much. I'm sorry I did this-" Spencer shook his head, "No, you didn't do this, this wasn't your fault." He said, trying to comfort you. "Yes it was Spence, I talk to much, I made him hurt me because I can't shut up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll learn, i promise," you began to cry. You tried to be strong but you knew you couldn't. No amount of sass would mask just how hurt you were.

Spencer hated this, no matter how many times he would say it, you would never believe it wasn't your fault. No matter what he would say, you would never be yourself again. You wouldn't be able to be sassy again, you wouldn't be as stubborn as you was. And he'd miss it, he'd miss every second of it. Every second of you talking back to him, every second of you being too stubborn to stay back with Garcia, he'd miss every single second of it and it broke him.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Road trip; Winchester brothers x sister reader

*Author's note*

This was a request submitted to me anonymously so to the anon out there I hope this story finds you and that you like it. Took me a while but I finally came up with a cute little fic. However it maybe less of a raodtrip roadtrip fic and more of reader bonding with her brothers over a road trip but I hope you and all the readers out there like it nonetheless.

Taglist:

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@remussl0vers

____________________________________________________

I was currently reading up on some books that the Men of Letters had in their library about Celtic mythology.  After that last selkie case, I wanted to read up more on Celtic lore and see what else there is out there since the personal Winchester knowledge is severely lacking in that department.

“Yo (Y/n)! Meeting room now.” I heard Dean’s voice call out as I heard a knock at the table I was sitting at.  I jumped in my seat and I said.

“Jesus Christ Dean, you know how I feel when you sneak up out of nowhere and just yell at me. Especially when I’m reading.”

“I swear you and Sammy with your books.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t kill you to learn something new.” I muttered under my breath as I closed the book.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. C’mon let’s get going.” I walked out of the library with Dean following behind me and as we came to the meeting room, Sam sat at the globe table his laptop closed.  I took a seat next to him and whispered, “Any idea what he’s planning?”

“I have no idea.” He whispered back.

“What I have planned is no need for concern nor whispering now shut up you two and listen up.” Dean said as he took the seat across from us.  “Now look, we’ve been at this hunting thing for a long, long time. We’ve been everywhere across the country more times than most people take their entire lives. But when was the last time we gave ourselves a little vacation?” Sam and I looked at each other perplexed.

 “A vacation?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. A vacation Sammy. You know the thing that people do when they want to get away from it all—”

“I know what a vacation is Dean. But you know what we do isn’t a normal 9 to 5 job, right?”

“Yeah. But look at what Jody and the girls have been doing. They make time for themselves every now and then. Especially after finding Kai’s evil twin.”

“Question though Dean,” I asked slowly raising my hand. “Why bring this up now?”

“Haven’t you guys noticed that ever since we beat God at his own game, there hadn’t been as many cases to go to lately. Besides that selkie case, the last real case we fought in was like what….two, three weeks ago?” Sam and I shrugged in agreement. “So really, what’s the harm in the three of us getting out of this dusty old bunker and seeing the sights for real this time.” A bark soon came up and our newest family member Miracle came running up and Dean knelt down and gave Miracle some scritches.  “See? Even Miracle agrees with me.”

“You know it still seems weird to see you so affectionate with dogs. All these years and you finally allow us to have a dog.” I stated.

“I never hated dogs. We just couldn’t afford to keep one since you know we were always saving the world one apocalypse at a time. Now, this big guy can stay with us, ain’t that right boy?” Miracle let out a bark.

“He is right. I mean it’s been two days since the selkie incident and usually we’re out the door with another case or a new lead on our big bad of the year. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get out for a while.” Sam said.

“(N/n), even if you say no you’re still coming with us cause we’re the oldest here.” Dean tried to out argue me but I told him.

“Did I say that it was a dumb idea? All I said was this was out of character for someone like you. But I wouldn’t mind getting out of here and seeing the open road without a constant threat breathing down our necks.”

“Then we’re agreed. Pack only the essentials and meet me outside in 10 minutes.” Dean and Miracle soon headed up the stairs and once the door to the bunker shut I said to Sam.

“He definitely has a destination planned out.”

“Oh yeah. But let’s just pretend we don’t for his sake.” Sam suggested as he gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder before heading to his room while I headed to mine.

We put out stuff in the trunk and I got in the back with Lucky at my feet while my brothers took their usual spots up front.  Once the doors closed Sam had asked Dean.

“Dean, since we’re going off the books for this particular trip. Do you think that maybe just this once you could lend the music control to someone else?” Dean gave Sam his raised brow and ‘bitch please’ face.

“What’s the number one rule in the car (Y/n)?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole and piggyback rocks out.” I said petting Miracle’s fur.

“And this is why one day she’ll be taking your seat cause she doesn’t complain about my music choices.” Dean started Baby up and her engine let out that beautiful purr before Dean drove her out from the garage and we set out on the open road.

I’ve been raised out on the open road.  Being a hunter meant never really settling down in one place for too long.  I could name every interstate and exit ramp by the time I was 10 years old.  But here and now, this was different.  Seeing the trees whiz by, the clouds that spread across the Blue sky, the sun shining off Baby’s hood and rearview mirrors, this trip felt—comforting.

Soon coming through the radio was Kansas infamous song ‘Carry on my Wayward son’.  When the acapella voices of the band came through the speakers of the car, Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“C’mon Sammy! You never go wrong with Kansas. This is practically our theme song.”

“Our theme song?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Now suck it up and take it all in.” as Dean and I began jamming out to the song, him playing the drums on the steering wheel while I did my air guitar before the two of us began singing.  Our voices drowned out by the volume of the song but it didn’t deter the passion that Dean and I had as we would belt out the song.  Eventually Sam got in on the action as he’d play the piano part on Baby’s console.  When the guitar solo came up, Dean proclaimed.  “Take it (n/n)!” I then proceeded to copy the famous guitar solo as my brothers cheered out to me and the three of us closed out the song in a high note.

“What’s say about making a youtube cover of that song?” I suggested.

“Might not be a bad idea. Never too old to learn to play the guitar.” Dean said.

“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a youtube star.” Sam said.

“Sam, do I need to remind you of the time we went to that world where our lives was a tv show and all the fanfics my actress had both read and written for being a tumblr star as well as an actress?”

“No need to bring that up thank you (Y/n).” Sam stopped me as he held his hand out.

“You guys getting hungry?”

“Baby sis you always read my mind. There’s also a rest stop around the bend from the food exits. We can have ourselves a little picnic there and give Miracle some exercise, what’d you say boy?” Miracle let out a bark of agreement.  About a quarter mile later, Dean took the exit and we pulled into the first fast food joint we saw and ordered our meals before driving towards the rest stop about a half mile down from the restaurant.

Dean parked the car and once the engine stopped, we all came outside and stretched ourselves out after a few hours of driving.  I leashed Miracle up as we walked towards the picnic tables up ahead and sat down to eat our food.

“But in all seriousness Dean, where exactly are we going? And will we be getting a motel room to at least sleep in tonight?” I asked.

“My dead little sister, sometimes you just gotta take in the journey and not worry about the destination.” Dean responded as he bit into his double burger.  I dipped my fries into my chocolate milkshake and Sam said.

“I still can’t understand why you do that. Everytime you get a milkshake or a frosty you dip your fries into it.”

“The perfect balance of sweet and salty, as well as hot and cold Sammy boy. Don’t knock it till you try it.” I said dipping three fries into my shake and stuffing them into my mouth.  Miracle laid his head across my lap as he looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes of his.  “Oh no mister. Chocolate will kill you, but I can give you this.” I tore a portion of my chicken sandwich and fed it to him after telling him to wait and be a good boy.

“(Y/n), don’t feed him human food.” Sam reprimanded me.

“Apparently you don’t know what Dean does in the mornings after finishing his breakfast.”

“(N/n) we had a deal don’t you tell him.” Sam let out a disgusted groan.

“Seriously Dean? You let him lick your plate before putting it into the sink?”

“It gets washed in the end.” Dean tried to reason while I stood up and gathered up my trash all the while picking up Miracle’s leash to take him for a little walk around the back so that he could do his business.

“I swear I love stirring the pot to get those two arguing over the dumbest things. Guess Gabriel rubbed off on me in more ways than one.” I said to Miracle as I tossed my trash into the trashcan before we entered the trail behind the rest stop.  Miracle started off by peeing at the first thing he had sniffed which was a sing pole for the ‘please clean up after your dogs’.

I walked him through the forest trail and he practically peed at almost every tree and bush we came across.  As we walked my mind trailed back to all the people that we had lost, especially Cas, Jack and Gabriel.  Hell Gabriel was my Guardian angel, who would’ve known at the time but it did make sense.  Whenever he made an attempt to mess with my brothers, he always made sure to never have me be harmed or be involved in any insane scheme he came up with.

The day he was killed in the apocalypse world when we tried to get Jack and Mary back was the day I was most devastated.  Right until the end, he made sure that I didn’t get hurt and ultimately sacrificed himself to Michael so that I and my brothers could escape and get out alive.  I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize that I had bumped into someone causing the two of us to fall to the ground.

Miracle had came up to us huffing and whimpering his tail wagging and I immediately got off the stranger and said.

“I am so sorry I should’ve paid attention to where I was going I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no it’s completely my fault. What I get for just standing in the middle of the trail.” He responded.  When I got a good look at him, I almost felt my heart go boom.

He was pretty cute.  Dark almost black curly hair that framed his face in both an adorable yet mysterious way.  He had hazel eyes that held both wonder yet mischief behind them.  His clothing wasn’t anything too extravagant, a Bob Dylan t-shirt and dark pants and he wore a few rings on his fingers and a metal bracelet as well as a watch.  And a jawline so sharp and strong it was unfair that someone around my age could look this handsome.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna exchange licenses or proof of insurance?” I finally spoke up trying to keep the blush I was feeling rising at my cheeks at bay.

“No, no, the fault was entirely my own.” He said with a charming smile.  Oh Christ even his smile was to die for.  Miracle then went up and gave him a sniff as he let out some happy whimpers.

“Miracle no down!”

“It’s fine I’ve got a dog at home just like this one and she’s an affectionate little girl. Although she’s not so little anymore even though she thinks she is.” He said laughing as he gave Miracle some scritches on top of his head.

You know how dogs can be trained to detect cancer or find weapons or drugs at airports.  Well my brothers and I have been training Miracle to detect whether someone was human or not and he always let us know by either growling (Werewolf, vampire, demon, wendigo, shapeshifter), lay down (djinn, vetala, reapers, witches), or to stand completely still but firm for ghosts, ghouls and everything else.

And with how he was acting, I knew I could relax since Miracle would never react this way towards a normal human being so I knew this boy could be trusted.

“What’s her name?”

“Dixie. Found her dumped at the side of the road when she was just a puppy.”

“I swear, humans can be such monsters.”

“Tell me about it. But with time, food and water, she was acting like a normal puppy should and has been for the past 10 years now. How long have you had Miracle, you said his name was?”

“Yeah, we’ve only had him for a year now but we didn’t get him as a puppy. Was left behind at a gas station.”

“Aww poor guy, well lucky for him he found a good family to take care of him.” We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment and it felt like my entire world was flipped upside down.  I awkwardly cleared my throat and said.

“Well we uhh��we better get back. My brothers will start to think we’ve been kidnapped or something.”

“Yeah, yeah I better get back on the road myself. Got a long way to Georgia.” He said in the same manner of awkwardness as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and we both stood up.

“Georgia? Funny you don’t seem to have the accent. No offense.”

“None taken, I’m just heading down that way to help out my aunt. She got injured pretty badly and I said I’d help her at her shop.”

“Such a gentleman, don’t see many of you out in the world.”

“Oh we’re out there. Just gotta know where to look. But I think it’s ungentlemanly to not introduce myself, I’m Paul.”

“(Y/n).” the second we took hands, I felt a spark of electricity surge through me and I let out a tiny gasp.  There’s no way I could be falling for this guy so fast could I? No, no, no it’s just a crush. Just like with Jack, it’s not real.  But then again I knew the term soulmates were real thanks to that one cupid who talked about the destiny of John and Mary Winchester being together.

Snap out of it (Y/n)! when I realized we were still shaking hands, I nervously took back my hand and apologized but he told me no worries and the two of us decided to walk out of the forest trail and we continued to talk to one another.

“So you went to college in New York to study law?”

“Yeah, One more semester and I’ll finally be done after seven years.” Paul told me.

“My big brother Sam tried to study at law school in California but unfortunately it didn’t work out for him.”

“Oh that’s too bad. Was it the stress cause there have been times where I’ve wanted to quit because of the immense pressure. That’s why I didn’t even try for Standford since they’re so strict.”

“I think it’s that school rivalry talking.”

“Or that.” We both laughed softly.

“So what’s the city of New York actually like?”

“Hold on, I thought you had said you’ve been to everywhere across America.”

“I have. But the only part of New York I ever went to was in upstate. I’ve never been to the actual city. Is it true you can pretty much get anywhere by walking?”

“Most part. But I take the train since my campus is in the heart of the city and I’m taking lodgings in Queens. You know if you’re ever in the area I wouldn’t mind showing you around the city sometime. I can show you all the hot spots and where to get the best pizza.”

“I’ve heard Chicago’s is better.”

“Okay that is a straight up lie! They deep dish their pizza in grease and I will proudly stand by that!” he proclaimed.  I giggled softly when I heard Dean’s voice cry out.

“Yo (Y/n)! Time to hit the road let’s go double time!” I groaned and Paul said.

“That big brother or eldest brother?”

“Eldest brother. I gotta go, it was real nice to meet you Paul. And again sorry about running into you.”

“Like I said, I was the one just parked in the middle of the trail. Take care of yourself (Y/n), you too Miracle.” Miracle let out a bark as he allowed Paul to rub the top of his head and I urged him back towards Baby.  As we came up to the impala, Dean asked.

“Who’s the boy?”

“Just get in the car.” I got Miracle into the backseat before following in after him and shut the door.

“He got a name?” asked Sam.

“Don’t you start too, I don’t need the big brother protection program on my ass.”

“Oh don’t you worry baby sis. Cause we’ll get you to talk one way or another about him.” Dean said as he got into the car before revving Baby up.

We continued the drive long throughout the night and by morning we finally reached Georgia by mid-afternoon. As we drove through the county Dean soon took the exit towards Blairsville, each time he took the exit that had that name.

“No destination huh Dean?” I mocked as I now sat in the front with him while Sam took the back to rest.

“Can’t hurt to make a couple of stops along the way.”

“Yeah well can we at least check into a motel? I feel so sticky and gross.”

“That’s good. That way no boy tries to flirt with you like the boy we met at that rest stop in Missouri.”

“Oh my god Dean not this again.”

“No, no, no. You gotta know this baby girl. Boys at that age are after one thing and one thing only. Besides in our line or work, he could’ve been a monster for all we know.”

“He wasn’t because Miracle acted the same way he does around you in the mornings. He didn’t give any of his training cues when he smelled Paul.”

“Paul? Who names their kid Paul?”

“Dean knock it off. Our sister knows how to take care of herself she could well beat Paul’s ass if he tried anything to her.” Sam groaned as he finally woke up from his nap.

“I can’t tell if you’re on my side or not there Sammy.” I bluntly said.

“Be thankful I know what you’re capable of doing on your own. You’ve been a karate master since you were 14.”

“I wouldn’t say master but I know a thing or two.”

“Still, I don’t want you talking or flirting with any boys while we’re here. You’re our sister and you’re too young for that shit.”

“I’m 18 years old Dean. I’m an adult and can make my own decisions.”

“Not when it comes to boys you’re not.” I let out a groan as I turned away from him and crossed my arms over my chest.

“You really are a stubborn ass.”

“Better to be a stubborn ass than a neglectful asshole.”

“What Dean’s trying to say is we’re this protective over you because we love you and we don’t wanna see you get hurt. Any more than you have in the past, especially now since we’ve finally managed to get our lives to normal since defeating God.” Sam piped in as I felt his hand on top of my shoulder giving it a loving shake.  I looked behind him and placed my hand on top of his.

“I know, but you guys also need to understand I’m not the same frightened little girl you found curled over her dead mother’s corpse covered in blood. You guys taught me everything I need to know in defending myself, so did Gabriel and Cas. Bobby and Jodi. So can I just try to live out whatever normal young adult life I can on my own and if I ever need you guys to bail me out or a shoulder to cry on, I’ll call you?”

“I can live by that.” I turned to Dean and said his name.  He let out a sharp breath.

“Just when I think I can out argue yah, you always tend to play the heartstrings card. And even though I hate chick flick moments, I guess I can agree to those terms. Just as long as you let me have a go at whoever pressures you into sex or drugs cause that’s where I draw the line of not getting involved.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Dean continued his drive through Blairsville and we soon saw the reason why he had wanted to come here.  All over the county there were banners, flyers and signs for the upcoming Great American Pie Festival.  Pies, parades, fireworks, food trucks, games and prizes were all promised and it all began tonight.

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” asked Sam.

“C’mon Sammy, after all that we’ve done for the world I deserve me some damn pie! Now like (Y/n) said we’ll check into a motel, get cleaned up and then get us some pie.” He sniffled and I asked him teasingly.

“Are you crying Dean?”

“What? No I’m not crying, you’re crying.” He brushed off my statement as he kept driving down the road until we reached the closest motel.

“Dibs on the first shower!” I called out as Dean turned off Baby once we reached the parking lot and we all came out of the car.  Sam took Miracle for a walk while Dean and I got ourselves checked into a room.  Once we got into the room, I grabbed a spare set of clothes and my bath essentials and headed towards the bathroom to take a nice, hot relaxing shower.

A few hours passed and after getting ourselves comfortable and situated in our hotel room it was now time to head out to the main street where they would kick off the festival with the firework show and then by noon tomorrow they would have their big parade.

My brothers and I followed the crowd of people as we could hear everyone’s excitement for this year’s Pie festival.

“This is my destiny. I was born for this, I was made for this.” Dean muttered to himself.

“Dude are you seriously giving yourself a pep talk right now?” asked Sam incredulously.

“Shut up Sammy I need to get into my Zen pie mode.” Sam and I looked at each other and shook our heads.  The second we got to the main pie gallery where all the pie shops were set up, we stopped and Sam and I could see on Dean’s face that he had just seen the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  “It’s….just so beautiful.”

“Just don’t OD yourself tough guy.” I said patting his gut softly.  Dean shoved me playfully and was the first to walk through the streets of pie.  “Shall we Sammy?”

“After you.” He told me and we both walked into the gallery square and took in all the sights the festival had to offer.  Balloons and banners all over the square, multiple shops and food trucks on every corner, hundreds of people all walking around already with their pie purchases and soon we found a bench to sit on.

Sam and I sat down and waited for Dean to find us with his treasure hoard.  As I looked around I said to Sam.

“Could you imagine us being in something like this during our many apocalyptic savings?”

“If it were up to Dean, we’d come to it in a heartbeat but at the time. We had bigger fish to fry. Now I think we might just end up going to every pie fest across the country.”

“I don’t think it’d be so bad. I mean we did have a good drive here. Not too much traffic, decent weather. Even Miracle seemed okay with the trip.”

“Yeah he did. And probably best that we left him at the motel, we still need to work on his approach towards people.”

“Tell me about it. Plus all this food, he’d be all over everybody.” After a few minutes of watching the crowd, Dean finally came in with a large box but he had to quickly spin around to avoid someone nearly knocking it over.  He gave the man his best death glare as he came over and sat on the opposite of Sam.  We looked down and that box held at least eight pies all ranging in various flavors.

“Didn’t I tell you not to OD? At this point all them pies will put you into a pie coma.” I said to Dean.

“You know you worry too much (n/n). Plus I can’t have a little sister whose thinks pie is a dried up heave of dough. That is sacrilege!”

“I never said that. I just said I can’t eat pie by itself. Now pie with ice cream sign me up any day of the week.”

“I’ll tell you where the ice cream truck is at if you take at least one bite of this pie, by itself.” Dean then handed me what looked like a pumpkin pie smothered in whipped cream.  He tossed me a fork and I picked it up before standing up.  I walked over to Dean and just as I was about to plunge the fork into the pie, I then shoved the pie into his face which caused Sam to bite back a laugh.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve always wanted to do that to someone. And it’s just as funny as it is in cartoons.” Sam and I both soon started laughing as he high fived me.

“Funny.” Dean said as the pie finally fell from his face.  “Real funny there kid.”

“Hey Dean, you got a little something there on your face.” Teased Sam as Dean gave him his bitch face before Sam started bursting out laughing and I walked off shaking my head snickering under my breath.

I walked along through the crowd and soon found the ice cream food truck and as luck would have it, it lied right beside a chocolate pie shop.  Vanilla ice cream and chocolate pie, oh hell yes.  I jogged over to the food truck and ordered a small vanilla cup and paid the guy what I owed before jogging over to Aunt Mina’s Pies.  I dinged the little bell and was soon greeted by a familiar voice.

“Welcome to Aunt Mina’s how may I—(Y/n)?”

“Paul? We’ll all be damned.”

“Small world ain’t it? You and your brothers here for the pie festival?”

“Yep. Believe me, you mention the word pie and my eldest brother goes crazy over them.”

“He wouldn’t have been the one carrying the box with eight pies including one of my aunt’s apple pies, would he?”

“That’s the guy.”

“So what can I get you?”

“One of your best chocolate chip pies please.”

“Coming right up.” he gave me a wink before leaving the window and called out the order as he began prepping the pan.

“So your aunt’s a pie maker?”

“Not to toot my own horn, but my aunt makes one of the best pies down here in the south. Even her shop over at New Orleans say that she’s the best damn pie maker they’ve ever had. But since her car accident she’s been needing help run the various shops. My older sister is running the main one in New Orleans while I’m helping out with the festival. Then of course my cousins co-own the shop up in Philly.”

“Wow, proud family business. What my brother wouldn’t give to have his own pie shop. Though if it were up to him he’d eat all the merchandise rather than sell it.”

“It’s tempting. I remember the first summer I helped my aunt out in this very festival. I was so hungry by the end of it all, I had eaten about five of her coconut cream pies. It was well worth the beating I took later that night.” We both laughed before my pie was finally ready.

“How much do I owe yah?”

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Paul no I-I can’t…..”

“Consider it a first time festival welcome freebie.”

“You sure you won’t get in trouble?” I whispered as I took the pie from him.

“Who knows. But if you’d really like to pay me back, would you mind joining me in watching the fireworks later tonight?” once again I felt my cheeks grow hot and I said.

“Will you provide another slice of pie for me?”

“I’ll sneak one out if I have to.” He gave me another wink as he smiled mischievously.

“Then I’d be honored Paul.”

“Great. How about meeting me back here in 20 minutes? I get off around that time.”

“It’s a date.” We both were shocked at my wording and I quickly tried to fix it but that’s when I heard Dean’s voice say.

“What’s a date?” we both looked and there stood both Sam and Dean looking at us skeptical.

“Dean, Sam. This is Paul, he’s offered to allow me to be his escort to the fireworks show later tonight.”

“Did he now?” asked Dean as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes sir. Just as a friendly welcome to the festival. She told me that it’s your first time here at our little pie festival. Lots to do over just a weekend and it can get overwhelming.” Paul said to my brothers.

“I’m sure it does.” Said Sam with a curt nod.  I looked at them widened eyed and annoyed desperately trying to get them to remember our conversation in the car.

“I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman and you two are more than welcome to join us.” Oh god please no Paul why did you have to suggest that.

“That sounds like…..” Dean first started off but Sam interrupted him.

“Actually we’re good. Fireworks really aren’t our thing but you kids go and have fun.” Dean turned to Sam but Sam arched a brow at Dean and gestured with his head.  Dean glared at Sam and he said to me.

“Be home no later than 10.”

“Midnight.” I suggested.

“11.” Dean negotiated.

“11:30.”

“Fine 11:30 and not a minute later young lady. And you, Timothee Chalamet don’t you dare try any funny business. Cause I’ll know.”

“Yeah okay Dean, let’s go before you get us kicked out.” Sam escorted Dean away.

“Wow. Your brothers are pretty protective over you aren’t they?” exhaled Paul.

“You don’t know the half of it. I apologize for them, I’ll understand if you don’t want to watch the fireworks with me anymore.”

“No, no I still want you to join me. I can understand protective siblings, you should see my sister. You know how mama bears are super protective over their cubs, well they ain’t got nothing when it comes to my sister. God did she ever used to embarrass me when I was a teenager.”

“It’s tough being the youngest sibling.”

“I’d toast to that. So like I said, meet me here in 15 minutes?” he said looking down at his watch.

“Yeah, see you then Paul.” I took my pie and ice cream and walked away still feeling that blush at my cheeks.  When I went back to the bench I had seen that both my brothers were gone.  I looked around but couldn’t spot them anywhere when I felt a vibration in my pocket.  I set my food down and took out my phone to see a text from Sam.  I unlocked my phone and read the message.

Sammy-boy: Headed back to the motel, had to check up on Miracle before the fireworks started. You know how he gets. Have fun and be safe, see you at 11:30 on the dot.

“Thanks Sam.” I sat down at the table and poured my ice cream cup next to my pie and proceeded to eat my dessert.

[bangchxnnie]

how long will this last? (pt. 2)

pairing: felix and fem!reader

tropes: friends to enemies to lovers, idiots in love, brother’s best friend if you squint? , college!au?

content warnings: 3rd person writing, alcohol is mentioned, reader is nicknamed barbie, felix is stupid, cursing, orange cats, shitty writing, bin being bin, massive miscommunication, what can barely be considered angst, some suggestive elements (but as always, read at your own risk buddy!)

chapter word count: ≈4.7k

|| hlwtl masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“Did you eat my fucking pasta leftovers?” She groans, searching through the fridge. 

“You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up and ask what is off limits and what isn’t.” 

“You’re such a prick.” She slams the fridge shut and fights a full-on pout. 

My pasta…

“What bit your ass?” 

It takes a while to explain everything to her brother fully. With how busy his job has been, he’s barely popped in over the last few months. She’s be lying if she said it wasn’t good to see him, though. Scare or not. 

She keeps stopping to fight the residual anger, sadness, or the weird mix of both that comes whenever she says Felix’s name. To Chris’s credit, he does his best to sit and just listen. Until she gets to the part about Felix saying she’s not worth it. He laughs at that. 

“What’s so funny?”

“God, he’s so transparent.”

She looks at him in confusion. 

“Continue. Please.” 

BP, the little traitor, sits in Chris’s lap the whole time, purring contentedly at the constant affection.

Can’t trust none of these hoes. 

When she finishes, he sits in silence for a moment. 

“So it sounds like he’s jealous, dude.” He says simply. 

B immediately shakes her head in protest and waves him off for good measure. 

“No, he’s just a dick.” 

“That may be true too, and I do want to kick his ass, but he’s clearly and obviously jealous of you and Binnie.” 

“You’re clinically insane. There’s nothing to be jealous of!” Her irritation could not be more obvious. Folded arms, jaw tensed, eyes skyward. “He’s just an ass, and there’s nothing more to it.” 

“Are you really that oblivious? I mean, c’mon, I know I’m the brains of the family, but-“ She smacks him upside the head. “Ow! Don’t damage the goods!” 

“Then stop saying dumb shit!” Chris glares at her. 

“I’m not. Anyone with eyes and half a brain cell can see he’s into you. Like, well into you. And has been. It’s quite gross, actually.” Her heart rate picks up at his words. She doesn’t actually believe him, but it gives her butterflies all the same. 

She covers by raising an eyebrow at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. But think about it. He threw a fit that day because he came home and saw you flirting with Bin.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him! That’s gross. Bin was just being himself. He’s always like that. Felix knows this.”

“Doesn’t mean he likes it. Maybe he just snapped.” 

She doesn’t buy it. They’re grown-ass people.

If Felix really was that upset, why wouldn’t he just say something? He’s always been able to tell me when he’s bothered.

If it were that simple, why didn’t you tell Felix how you felt, either? 

…Even my brain is a traitorous traitor. Why are we defending him?

“Okay, fine. What about that day he lied about his laptop?” 

“Maybe he genuinely forgot he had it. Or maybe, that loud ass sound you heard was him at the door.” 

B doesn’t say anything. 

“You said he was in the hallway, right? Maybe he had come home, saw Bin and you doing…whatever the fuck you were doing, and left.” 

Surely she would have noticed if Felix had come in, right? She’s normally so observant. Or at least, she thought she was. It’s a lot of information to process. 

“I mean, really? What the hell were you doing?”

“Irrelevant. What do I do about it?” B reaches for her cat, still seated in Chris’s lap. BP hisses at her. 

Fucker.

“Talk to him, dude. Jesus Christ, I thought you were smarter than this.” Chris just sighs. 

“Thanks, dipshit. And how exactly do you expect me to do that when he ignores me at every turn?” 

“I can’t give you all the answers. Damn. You’ve got to do some of the work yourself. Now,” He gently sets BP down and stands to stretch. “I’d really like to get some sleep. Is the spare room clean?” 

B thinks she’s probably going to kill him before this week is over.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“What about that one? He’s so cute!” Felix points to a nearby cage, cooing at the cat on the other side. 

“His sign literally says, ‘I Don’t Like People.’” B counters, shaking her head. 

Felix just smiles that goofy smile at her that she loves. “Which means you already have something in common!” 

Her mouth drops in semi-shock at his comment, and she half-heartedly nudges his arm. “I like you well enough!” The same arm wraps around him and she continues walking. “How about this one?” She points to a couple of cages over; a little paw sticking out between the tiny metal poles of the door. 

“I dunno…she seems a little small. So dainty. She’s got to be able to hold her own in your house.” Felix plays with her as much as he can through the barrier, even going so far as to make baby talk to her. B giggles, just watching him for a bit. He’s so gentle with everything; no wonder the littles flock to him at family events. “Whad’ya think, Beautiful? Do you wanna come home with us? Just say the word, and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Us. The way that one word makes B feel is more than dangerous. Floaty, warm, and fuzzy. After all, there is no us. Just her and Felix. As friends. Until the end of time. 

How miserable.

Felix jolts back when the cat swipes at him, catching his knuckle. “Ow! Fuck!” B blinks back to reality.

“Serves you right for calling her dainty.” 

Felix throws his free arm up in defeat. “Fair enough.”

 He steps into B’s space silently, suddenly laser-focused on reaching the top of her head. He gently moves a stray hair back into place, following it down to tuck it behind her ears. “Sorry, Gorgeous, it was standing up weird.” It’s all he offers in explanation. 

Not that she minds. But between the pet name and the touch, she’s sure her face is outing her in more ways than one. 

You’ve got to get it under control, girl! Get. A. Grip. 

Felix clears his throat, steps back, and offers his arm to her. “Shall we?” 

They interact with a few more cats, and every time Felix talks to the cats, it tugs at B’s heartstrings. She can’t help but watch the way his freckles crinkle when he smiles or how his eyes light up when any of the cats interact with him back. “How are you today, sweetheart?” or “Are you having a good day?” or B’s personal favorite, complete with baby voice-“I might have to just steal you for myself. Yeah, I think I do.” 

Eventually, they come across one that seems thoroughly uninterested in Felix. Felix tries to play with him, but he doesn’t budge. “Well, fine. Be like that then.” He pouts like a petulant toddler. 

“I think he’s just tired.” 

“Is he? He seems pretty indifferent toward me.” 

“Let me try.”

“Be my guest, gorgeous.”

B tries to coax him out from the corner of his enclosure. He slowly sits his head up and just stares at her. At least it’s more of a reaction than what he gave the man.

The cat approaches the cage leisurely like he has all the time in the world. Which, one supposes, he does. B drops her arm from Felix’s to get closer to the semi-curious cat, who lets Barbie pet him and seems content with just that. 

“I think he likes me? Maybe?” She searches the cage for his information card. 

Name: Bobby Pin 

Felix laughs. It compels another smile from B, much like anything else he does. “Bobby Pin? How do they come up with these names?” 

“I mean, my friend in grade school had a cat named Crayon. She tried to eat one as a kitten right after they got her. So there it was.” 

The way he listens so intently when she speaks makes her feel like anything she has to say is important. That she is important, it’s a feeling she cherishes more than he knows. 

Felix tries to reach for the cat again, seemingly feeling like he’s missing out. When the cat grumbles but lets him, both humans laugh. B decides that he’s the one.

She goes searching for a shelter employee. 

“Excuse me, we’d like to fill out an application for this one?” 

The memory pulses a pang in her chest that feels so wrong. It doesn’t seem right that just a few months ago, they were fine, and now, he’s saying shit like, “You’re not worth it”. It doesn’t make sense. Her conversation with Chris and the memory keeps her up until her eyelids can’t hold their own weight anymore. 

She manages an entire 36 hours almost completely people-free. She gets out of bed three times the first day. Once to use the bathroom, once to grab an obscene amount of snacks and dash back to bed, and a third time to grab the remote that fell underneath her bed. Other than that, she’s either sleeping, eating, or watching episodes of a show she’s seen a million times. It usually leads to another nap, honestly. The other days it's even less. Maybe twice, if that. Chris checks on her once a day to ensure she’s alive, asks if she wants him to stay (she says no), tells her to call if she needs him, and leaves. She doesn’t call, though. In fact, she turns her phone completely off to avoid everyone else. 

The fourth morning, however, another unwelcome visitor breaks into the apartment. He also has a key, but that’s beside the point. 

“B, are you home?” She’s already awake but would rather be sleeping off what feels like the beginning of a massive headache. Maybe it’s from all the crying. Maybe someone snuck in the middle of the night and poured alcohol down her throat. Maybe it’s from the yelling. She can’t be sure. The possibilities are endless, really. But what she is sure of is the fact that she doesn’t want to deal with Changbin. Not today.

Die. I want to crawl into a hole and make it my home like I’m some kind of mole. I could be a mole man. Mole-woman? Mole-person. 

She snaps her eyes shut and listens for his footsteps. She’s trying to gauge how far away he is since he says nothing else. She is unsuccessful.

“Well, you look awful.” 

Fuck.

“Go away.” She pulls the covers over her head and turns away from the door. 

“No, we’re not doing this sulking thing. C’mon.” He grabs BP from the foot of the bed and sets him on the floor. BP is unhappy about it, grumbling annoyed cat noises while he stretches and searches for a new sleep spot. 

“Oh, hush. You love me.” Bin argues with himself, it seems, because BP ignores him. 

He gently tugs at Barbie’s comforter. He’s trying to give her a chance to let it go. And when she doesn’t, he just snatches it from her hands and tosses it to the end of the bed. He sits on the edge and waits for her to sit up. She doesn’t. 

“Um, hello?! I have no pants on!” B protests, though she makes no effort to hide anything. Her sleep shirt is long enough that it covers everything anyway. 

“Oh, no! Legs! What’s a man to do?!” Bin faux gasps, clutching his hand to his chest. 

He deadpans seconds later. “C’mon, Barbie.” 

“If you say, let’s go party, I will kick you in the stomach.” 

Bin blinks at her. “Just get up!” 

“I don’t want to!” She thrashes around in protest, tears already threatening to expose themselves. “I’m in pain, I’m humiliated, I’ve been invaded, I’m-“ 

“Invaded?” Bin tilts his head, amused. 

She props herself up on her elbows. “Chris is here.” And just as quickly, drops herself back flat on the bed.

Bin mouths a silent oh. 

“Well, he can come too.” Changbin pats her leg and stands. 

“Where are we allegedly going?” Once again up on her elbows, B eyes him carefully. 

“The beach. Obviously.” 

An eyebrow raises. “In autumn?”

“Nobody said we were swimming. Now get up, and take a shower. You smell like sadness.” 

He finds his way to her tall dresser across the room and starts rummaging through it for appropriate clothing. 

She sighs in defeat, dragging herself up to a sitting position. A hefty yawn escapes her lips, and it dawns on her she has no idea what time of day it is.

“Wait, what time is it?” B searches for her phone, but it’s not in its usual spot on her nightstand. “And where’s my phone?” 

“7:30.” 

“AM?!” 

Bin waves her off as if it’s unimportant information. 

“You do realize this is an executable offense.” 

He turns his head to look at her, evil smile spread across his face. “Kill me and I’ll haunt you until your last breath.” 

It’s probably true. 

He tosses some clothes at her and points to the bathroom, exiting the bedroom in the same stride. “Shower. I’m gonna go wake your brother up.” 

“Best of luck, soldier.” 

She takes a deep breath, determined to face whatever the day throws her way. She quickly grabs the clothes thrown at her and heads to the bathroom. As she steps inside, a feeling of dread overcomes her. 

Why do I feel like this day is going to be a shitshow?

She closes her eyes and prays for the best. 

The shower is surprisingly refreshing. Once she finally convinced herself to get in, it’s hard to get out. A full wash can be quite draining most days, but the effort came with a little more ease once the warm stream also warmed the room. She leaves a little less dread-filled and a little more hungry.

After she gets dressed and styles herself to her liking, she heads to the spare room to see how successful Bin is at getting Chris up. He’s usually hard to rise since he doesn’t sleep much, either. 

She finds her brother and her friend..giggling. On the bed. Bin lightly punches Chris’s arm, and Chris falls into a full fit of laughter. 

She smiles, happy to see some of her favorite people so happy. “What’s so funny?” 

Their laughs settle, and Chris waves her off. “It’s nothing.” 

Bin agrees, lingering laughter escaping. “Don’t worry about it, Barbie.” 

She frowns, but doesn’t press. The uneasy feeling in her is growing, but doesn’t have the energy to have it out with them about it.

“Oh. Well, are we going to leave soon?” Her entire demeanor shifts.  

“Soon, we’re just waiting for one more arrival.” No one has time to address B's body language because as if on cue, the door shakes violently. The doorknob attempts to turn, but, of course, it’s locked. The door shakes again, and B sighs. 

“Why would you leave a brainless squirrel outside by himself?” 

Bin shrugs.

“I heard that!” It’s slightly muffled, but the hurt is still there. 

B unlocks the door and steps back, allowing Jisung to clamber inside. He almost crashes into Barbie with how aggressively he runs in. He’s breathing heavy, dramatically sets his hands on his knees to ‘catch his breath’. When he stands, he narrows his eyes at his friend.

“The door wouldn’t open.” 

B laughs. “Because it's locked, dumbass.” 

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“When it didn’t open?” She ruffles his hair. He swats her hand away and attempts to fix it, muttering something under his breath. 

Han Jisung is…a special friend. He can be incredibly intelligent, and very insightful, but it’s blanketed by a lack of common sense sometimes. Most times. He likes to say he’s too smart for his own good. There’s a sliver of truth to the statement. 

“Can we go now?” 

The beach itself is relatively uneventful. Bin packed a picnic kit and some chairs for the group to just sit and talk for a while. He even packed a book for B for when she’s burnt out socially. It’s a kind gesture, but B opts to just sit and listen to the waves, conversation as her background noise. Jisung chooses to sit with her in silence. Eventually, she lays her head on his shoulder. It’s the happiest she’s been all week. 

Nobody says anything to her until they start getting back to the car.

“You know, it’s okay to talk about it.” Chris says, pulling his seatbelt across his lap in the driver’s seat. “How you feel about it.” 

B shakes her head. “I don’t know how I feel.” 

“That’s fine too.” It’s the last he says on the subject. 

The rest of the boys pile in after closing the back of the car, resuming whatever new conversation they’d started on the walk back. B doesn’t really take in much of it. Until she heard something about her brother’s birthday.

“Oh, yeah! Have you finished everything for Saturday, Chris?” 

“Yeah, about that…” He cringes, like the words are paining him.

“What did you do.” 

“ThevenuecanceledandwehavenowhereelsetohostitsoIwashopingyouwouldletususetheapartment.” The words blur together, but she manages to get the gist. And she’s not happy about it.

“And how long have you known this, Christopher?” She stares him down through the rear view mirror. 

“Just since yesterday! I swear! I was just as mad as you are but I know that you love me and you’ll do me this major solid and I’ll owe you big time.” He flashes her his biggest smile, hoping it’ll seal the deal. The car is quiet, save for the radio, while she contemplates her answer. 

“…Yeah, you’ll owe me big time.” 

The whole car lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re the best!” Chris sing-songs. B flips him the bird, smile fighting at the corners of her lips. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Turns out, Chris has much more of his party planning shit together than anyone realises. The transition from venue to house party is relatively smooth over the next few days.. Hiding away the valuables and ultra breakables (nobody plans to get that wasted, but who knows), deep cleaning every room in the house, locking doors to off-limit rooms, the works. 

“Do you really not trust your friends that much?” Barbie questions. She’s washing up the rest of the dishes before she has zero energy left. 

“It’s not his friends he’s worried about, Barbie.” Seungmin joins in, spread comfortably across her couch.

“Oh, right. The New Year’s incident.” Jisung had gotten so drunk he’d gone up to every single person at the party and challenged them to an arm wrestle, and if they lost, he got to kiss them. He almost left with a broken arm. 

“We agreed we won't talk about that anymore.” Jisung gripes anytime somebody mentions it. 

“You agreed. With yourself.” B counters. 

Jisung, Changbin, and Chris all make weird eye contact with one another. It sets off that uneasy feeling in B’s stomach again. It’s so frustrating to feel out of the loop. Again. 

“What is this, some sort of weird intimate mindmeld? What aren’t you guys telling me?” 

They make eye contact again, and Bin clears his throat. 

“Um, Felix is, uh, coming to the party.” 

Her stomach drops at his name. Whether that’s from anger or something else is unknown. She hides her feelings behind a neutral face. 

“Oh. Well, I knew that. He and Chris have been friends for ages.” 

Nobody’s buying it. 

“Are you sure?” He speaks slowly; he’s scared to spook her. 

“Yes. Just because he can’t be civil doesn’t mean I can’t. Kill ‘em with kindness, yeah?” She shrugs and walks off to her room as casually as she can manage. 

She locks her door behind her and can feel a panic attack rising with every breath. She uses her grounding techniques to fight it off before it consumes her. 

Okay, I have exactly…16 hours to get my shit together. Oh shit. Chris was right. I just need to get through the night, and then I can sit his ass down and sort this shit out. His being into me is the only logical explanation for all his bullshit. It has to be. Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him when this is all over. 

She eventually hears a knocking sound in the back of her mind. It takes a few seconds to register that it is, in fact, a real knocking sound. 

“Hey, y’okay? We can tell him no if that’s what you want. Believe me, I have no issue doing that with how stupid he’s been acting lately.” 

She tries to laugh, but it comes out choked. It’s more air than sound. Some stray tears get eaten, which is weird because she didn’t even realize she was crying. She wipes her face and gets off the bed to unlock the door. 

She’s met on the other side of the door with Chris leaning on the doorframe, a sympathetic look adorning his face. 

“It’s okay, really. One night won’t kill me.” 

“I’d be a shit brother to let him around after all this.” 

“Good thing it’s not your call, then! It’s mine, and I say I want to move forward.” 

Chris nods. He knows when it’s the final straw for her, and she’s nearing it. He doesn’t bring it up again. She’s grateful for it. 

One more day and I’ll get my answers. 

….

….

She jolts awake, a scream echoing through her brain. Was it real? Was it in her head? 

She takes a moment to process her surroundings. The clock says 2:26 am. It’s dark. It’s cold. She realises 3 things:

She had a nightmare.

Felix is not here. She doesn’t know where he is. Thankfully? Unfortunately? Why do I wanna know where he is?

The scream was real, as noted by Chris and Changbin rushing to her room to see what had happened. My bad, bro. 

It takes a cup of tea, half a movie, and an extra body (Changbin) in her room to get her back to sleep. It’s in moments like this that she deeply appreciates the friends she has and the way they support her. 

When she wakes in normal operating hours, Changbin is still asleep in her bed. Granted, he’s somehow wrapped up in two blankets, and one of his legs is hanging off the bed, but he’s still there. She reaches across and attempts to unravel him because it must be hot like that, but all he does is grumble something that sounds like, “Get off my head,” and rolls toward the middle of the bed.

Can't say I didn’t try. 

B leaves him to his fate and gets herself ready for the day. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“Hi! Thank you for coming!” B greets guests happily, hugging and smiling as each person steps over the threshold of her apartment. She gestures to the nearest bedroom, offers them a place to drop their bag and coat, and tells them to enjoy themselves. It’s the same formula for nearly every person. 

While doing rounds, she spots a familiar face by the back door. 

“Look at you, all dressed up!” She wolf whistles at him, and Seungmin’s face reddens, but he brushes her off. Truthfully, it's just a button-up and pants, but he looks good anyway.

“I was told dress nice or die, so.” He does his best to keep a neutral face, but it’s obvious he’s in good spirits. 

“Well, you look very nice. Very handsome.” B teases, pinching at his cheek. She loves to mess with him like an older sister, and as much as he complains, B has a feeling he doesn’t mind one bit. To save face, however, he ducks away and wanders off to find his friend Jeongin. 

Chris is mingling happily as cohost, beer in hand, as he hugs or high-fives his friends who made it out here. Communicating the last-minute change was the hardest part, but they made it work. It's nice to see him relaxed. It doesn’t go unnoticed how he works himself into the ground at that studio of his. Hopefully, this week has been a nice break from that. 

A hand on her back makes her jump,and she gets immediately defensive. Have spins around, ready to say something about personal space, but it’s just Changbin. “My bad, my bad! I didn’t mean to scare you!” He looks…nice. Fitted polo shirt that shows off his arms (shocker) and neutral pants. It’s a good look when you add in the watch on his wrist. 

“Just wanted to tell you that you look cute, Barbie!” He continues, gesturing to the dress B picked for the evening. Black and simple. Hair and makeup to match. 

Elegant. Classy. Easy, breezy, beautiful, covergirl. 

She smiles. “It has pockets!” She dips her hands into the pockets and twirls the dress to show it off. 

“I’m thrilled for you and your pockets. Do you want a drink?” She takes him up on his offer, and he sets off on his mission. 

In the meantime, she checks up on supplies. Everything seems to be good. Something catches her attention back toward the entry, and B’s heart drops to her ass. 

In walks Felix. And he looks divine. Black turtleneck, black pants, he even dyed his hair. She swears time has stopped.

Holy shit. Just, holy shit.

She agreed with everyone earlier against greeting him for fear of a cold shoulder. She knows herself, and she won’t let it slide if he decides to show out today, and today is not the day for that. Tomorrow, definitely, but not today. Instead, she just watches him walk in and barely notices the person following behind him.

Binnie returns with her drink, and they watch Felix timidly approach Chris. They share a mildly awkward embrace. Another person is standing beside Felix, a woman who looks just as, if not more, uncomfortable by the situation. They can’t hear what’s being said, but they see Chris give Felix a weird look before turning his attention to the woman. Chris greets her politely, gestures to the kitchen, and makes eye contact with Bin across. 

It genuinely looks like he’s trying to say something telepathically, and Bin almost looks like he understands. 

Men. How fucking weird. 

Just like it’s weird that Bin steps behind her, semi-casually wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don't do anything crazy.” Is all he says. She’s so busy getting ready to question how much he’s had to drink and what the fuck he means that she doesn’t notice when Felix approaches. Felix clears his throat and stops an awkward distance away. 

She acknowledges him by meeting his eye but doesn’t break Bin’s hold. 

“Felix.” Bin doesn’t hide his ire. Apparently, things haven’t been as smooth as he’s been telling Barbie it has been. She makes a mental note to bring it up later. 

“Long time no see, huh?” He attempts a laugh, but it falls flat.

B scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

Bin squeezes her waist, a warning. She ‘accidentally’ steps on his foot in response.

“How are you?” He looks straight at B. He almost sounds…genuine. She contemplates giving him a real answer. Changbin answers before she can say anything-“We’re fine.” 

Felix goes silent. The moment stretches, long and very awkward. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable with each blink, and B prepares to just walk away before Bin decides to speak up. 

“Who’s your friend?” He gestures to the woman pretending to look around the room. Felix reaches for her hand, and she smiles, interlocking their fingers. She’s pretty. Like, really pretty. Between the two of them, B’s not exactly sure who she should be looking at. 

“This is my girlfriend, Aila.”

Changbin’s grip on ‘his’ girl tightens. 

I think I’m gonna throw up.

[itsnevercasual]

RISK PART III

pairing: mafia!harry styles x singer!reader

summary: Harry is in town for some.. less than legal business, and you're a local singer trying to get your foot in the door, and also planning your wedding. And maybe Harry is a little too interested in you.

warnings: mentions of death & blood, mentions of abuse, cursing, that should be it!!

-

Almost immediately, his browser was flooded.

Y/N L/N and Mason L/N: The Internets Favorite Siblings

Y/N L/N - Youtube

Mason L/N - Youtube

Mason & Y/N - Youtube

#prayfory/n on Twitter

Y/N and Mason L/N’s Incredible Work with Band ‘The Diamonds’

Well, you two certainly had an online presence. He sighed and clicked on the first article.

Mason L/N (20) and little sister, Y/N L/N (15) have quickly become the internet’s favorite dynamic sibling duo! The duo rose to fame in 2012 when Mason began vlogging their adventures living alone in Miami.

After a near-death incident with her mother read article here, Y/N was put into her brother’s care. The two grew up in Wimberley, Texas, on a farm. Mason’s earliest videos on YouTube were in 2010, when he posted videos of 11-year-old Y/N singing onstage somewhere.

Since moving to Miami, Florida in 2012, at age 13 and 18, they formed a band called The Diamonds and started a successful YouTube career. Most of the videos, now posted on a shared account entitled Mason & Y/N, they show their day-to-day lives, backstage previews, clips of the songwriting process, and more.

Mason is the producer of his sister’s band— in which she is both the songwriter and lead singer. The band, though not as successful as their YouTube, has a decent following on both Instagram and YouTube.

Also featured on their accounts is Y/N’s childhood best friend— Jodie. There is nothing of Jodie online, so we aren’t sure of her last name. We only know the story of how Jodie moved right before Y/N’s near-death experience, and the siblings moved to Miami to see her again.

We look forward to seeing more of the iconic duo! Best of luck, L/N siblings!

Well, that gave him next to nothing.

Read More:

Smalltown Tragedy: Violet L/N attempts to murder daughter, Y/N L/N.

Jesus fucking Christ, Niall wasn’t joking about shitty.

He skimmed through the article.

Coming home from school—

Walked through the door—

Stabbed—

Authorities were quickly contacted by brother—

Violet pleads innocent in court case—

Y/N and Mason attest to their mother’s innocence—

Guilty verdict—

Sentenced to life in prison without bail or parole—

Added charges of child abuse after bruises found on both children—

Siblings go on news after the verdict was given—

Claim it was their father—

Well. He was starting to regret looking you up.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. After how nice you were tonight, he felt incredibly bad knowing this is what the result of invading your privacy was.

Yet, he didn’t shut the laptop.

He clicked back to the original search tab.

Mason & Y/N - Youtube

He pulled up the page, and his eyes widened.

925.4K Thousand Subscribers. 493 Videos.

Holy shit.

He scrolled to the last updated video—

BACKSTAGE AT THE DIAMONDS: LIVE AT DAYTONA BEACH BANDSHELL. June 1, 2016.

He didn’t want to watch it. He didn’t want to intrude anymore than he already had. That’d be wrong.

But Harry also never claimed to be a good person.

As he tapped on the video, your brother’s face filled the screen. Or.. he assumed, it was your brother. He looked similar to the articles of the two of you, only older.

“Hello, lovely people! We’re back! We are currently backstage at the biggest show yet of the best band ever—“

“Oh, my God, you’re so stupid,” a voice laughed. It was slightly familiar.

The camera turned, and he realized why. It was you.

“Y/N tries to be rude, but we all know I’m her favorite here.”

“Uh, no, bitch. I’m her favorite. Back off.”

Jodie.

“Dude, you have a boyfriend. You back off!”

“Yeah, but Ni’s not here yet, so… I win.”

“How does that even— okay. Anyway, my lovely sister is currently shoving food down her face—“

“Mason! Shut up, oh, my God! I’m literally curling my hair, you ass!”

“Hey, language!”

“Oh, boo-hoo. You taught me how to cuss when I was, like… seven.”

“.. Yeah, I did do that. Alright. Whatever. We’re gonna give the camera to Y/N so she can give y’all a sneak peak at the set list!”

The camera was now sitting in front of you. Younger you.

“Hello! It’s the better sibling—“

“Hey!”

You grinned at him, “And this is the setlist for tonight, which is super-duper top secret. So… shh! Okay! We’re opening with my personal favorite, Girl I’ve Always Been! And then we’re gonna transition that… somehow… into Vicious. And then.. I Should Hate You, little break to introduce the other Diamonds, Should’ve Said No, Picture to Burn, All-American Bitch, Stranger, another little.. break thingy.. Florida, Happier Than Ever, and then we close with.. Better than Revenge! But we have an encore, so we come back for one song, which is Nothing You Can Take!”

He skipped ahead in the video.

“Jodie, where are we?”

“Backstage!”

“Ni, what are we about to do?”

“You’re about to kill it onstage!”

He skipped a bit.

It was a circle of you and a bunch of girls, and one of two guys, that he recognized. The same people who’d played with you tonight.

“We worked our asses of for this, and we’re gonna make it count, right?”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Okay, Diamonds on three. On.. two.. three.. Diamonds!”

Skip.

“Y/N, how you feelin’?”

Harry could hear the crowd and music in the background, and he assumed that you were about to run onstage.

“I’m gonna puke!” You laughed.

“Ew. Don’t.”

“Gee, thanks. Real supportive.”

“I’m being honest—“

“Y/N, you got ten seconds.”

You screamed.

He skimmed the rest of the video. Some of it was clips of the show, some of it was after.

Well, that didn’t do anything except make him feel shitty. One, because he knew he shouldn’t be watching, and two… because you and your brother seemed close, and he, obviously, was dead.

He went back and clicked on the Twitter link.

#prayfory/n on Twitter.

Daytona News: Internet Star Mason L/N Fatally Shot in Robbery.

thediamondsupdates: OMG. GUYS IM ACTUALLY SOBBING WTF I FEEL SO BAD FOR Y/N. SHE WAS THERE😭😭 #prayfory/n

Bingo.

He clicked on the article.

Late last night, after The Diamond’s Only Night Only on Main Street, the internet star siblings Y/N and Mason went to a gas station for celebratory snacks. Unfortunately, while they were checking out, the gas station got robbed.

Y/N told Daytona Police that the robber had aimed for her when he shot, but her brother shoved her at the last second. Both Mason L/N and the store clerk, who is yet to be identified, died. Y/N came out with only a few scratches. Witnesses say she tried to keep her brother alive while waiting for police.

The siblings were swarmed by paparazzi as they got hauled into the ambulance, where Mason unfortunately died on the way.

Harry clicked back to the hashtag.

user001: omfg guys someone got a video of the store after the robbery where mason l/n died. ONE VIDEO LINKED.

He clicked play, knowing he’d regret it.

“Oh, my fucking God,” the person recording spoke.

You and Mason were covered in blood. You were in hysterics, holding your brother on your lap.

“Mason! Mason!” you were shouting. “Someone call an ambulance! Oh, my God! There’s so much blood— why is there so much blood? Mason, answer me! Are you okay? You have to be okay—“

The video panned away from you as you screamed, showing the store that’d been ransacked.

It ended.

Harry shut the computer and went to bed, feeling sick to his stomach.

-

When you woke up the next morning, it was to a weight on your chest.

“What the— Jodie, get the fuck off of me. I’m gonna die,” you grumble, shoving her.

She falls off the bed with a thud. She gasps, “Are you calling me fat?”

“No, you called yourself fat.”

“You’re so mean in the mornings,” she pouts.

“I’m only mean when you wake me up at ungodly hours by sitting on me.”

She shrugs, “Oh. Yeah. Well… come on, get up.”

You whine. The bed was comfy.

“Up!”

“No, I’m tired.”

She stands up and yanks your arm. You, too, fall off the bed.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“I didn’t really think that one through,” she admits.

“Clearly. Alright, I’m up now, I guess. What did you want?”

“We’re going to brunch with Harry and Ni. Get ready.”

“Brunch? Harry doesn’t seem like a brunch guy.”

“What do you mean?” her brows furrow.

“He just.. is very intimidating—“

“He was nice to you, though, right? He better have been, or I swear—“

“No, he was,” you quickly cut her off. “He just… seems like he’d rather gouge his own eyes out before her went to brunch.”

She sighs in relief, “Thank God. I like him, so I didn’t wanna kill him for being rude to you. But, yeah.. probably. But he basically does whatever I say because, as he admitted once and only once, I’m like his little sister and he feels bad saying no. That, and I’m annoying when I don’t get my way.”

You snort, “That’s… yeah, that seems more likely.”

“But.. Niall also said he likes you, too. Maybe not in the, y’know, little sister way, but you’re right. He is usually an asshole, but he was extremely friendly yesterday. Kinda threw me off, to be honest.”

“Dude, I thought he was gonna bite my head off.”

She laughs, “Yeah.. oh, well. Get dressed and dress slutty!”

“Why slutty?”

“Because we invited Asshole of the Year, and if he shows up, he’s gonna wish he was Angel of the Year.”

“Jodie..” you sigh.

“I know. You don’t wanna piss him off. But.. if you just happened to grab a slutty dress… what’s the harm?”

“Get out,” you laugh.

-

You don't wear the slutty outfit Jodie wanted you to wear, mainly because the brunch spot was a nice restaurant and you don't want the looks from grandmas.

Instead, you wear a white dress with small, green leaves. You throw on heels that were slightly dressy, but comfortable and also barely make you any taller. You put a green ribbon in your hair after tying half of it back.

You haphazardly do your makeup once Jodie began spamming your phone, urging you to hurry up.

You rush out of the room, sighing once you saw the other three sitting at the kitchen island.

"Sorry I took so long. We can go, now, though!"

“Took you long enough,” Niall teases.

“Shut up. This is why you don’t have any friends.”

“I have friends!” he protests quickly. “You! And— Harry!”

“Mhm. Got any more?” you laugh. “I don’t count because I’m friends because of association. You get one point for Harry, though. I guess.”

“No point from me,” Harry spoke up. “We’re work friends.”

“I knew I liked you.”

Harry smirks at you.

Niall glares at the two of you. “I hate you both.”

You grin, “Aw. Love you, too.”

“Aright, children. We’re gonna be late,” Jodie reminds you.

The three of you chorus agreements and head to the car. Niall drove, Jodie sat in the passenger seat, and you and Harry got into the back.

“You know, you look crazy familiar.”

“Who, me?”

“No, the ghost sitting in between us. Yes, you.”

He pauses before shrugging, “Probably just got one of those faces. I don’t remember meeting you before.”

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird. I swear I know you, but I’d remember if I met you.”

He smirks, and you regret phrasing it like that. “Oh, really? What’s that supposed to mean, lovie?”

Lovie? What the hell? Is he a psycho? Are you a psycho?

Connor. Engaged to Connor. Can’t break up with him.

“Nothing. I just meant I have, like, a good memory,” you huff. “You’re right. You’ve probably just got one of those faces.”

One of those faces.

One of those faces.

One of those faces you know you recognize.

-

Brunch was short, but sweet. The food was good, and it was fun. Connor didn’t show.

You and Jodie made Niall and Harry wait in the car while the two of you ran into Sephora to restock your respective makeup collections.

“I kinda wanna try a new perfume..”

“I thought you always got that.. whatever one it is, because it’s Connor’s favorite?”

“I do. But.. the smell has been giving me migraines. Plus, he’ll get over it. He can hardly stand to be around me for longer than, like, twenty seconds, so… I doubt he’ll even notice.”

“Seriously, I still don’t get why you’re getting married. To him, of all people.”

“Because. I do love him, even if he’s an ass. And it’s.. safe. He’s safe.”

“Safe from what?”

You huff, “If music doesn’t take off. He has a good, stable job.”

“The band will never take off if you get married, babe. He hates the band. He’ll make you quit, and you know it.”

“Then maybe it wasn’t mean to be,” you shrug.

Jodie stops in her tracks. “How can you— no. Absolutely not. I do not care if you love him or if you wanna marry him. You are not throwing away your dream for some guy! Any guy! If it was— fuckin’, I dunno, Harry, who was like this—“

“Harry? Ew! I just met him—“

“He was the first person that came to mind! The point is, if anyone you dated pulled that, I’d say the same thing. It isn’t just because I don’t particularly like Connor.”

“Jodie—“ you sigh.

“No,” she cut you off. “You’ve been singing and writing songs since as long as I can remember. That was all you wanted. Since we were six, you’d tell people you’d be a singer when you’re older! You and Mason planned this for years! You can’t just quit because some stupid, no-good, ugly guy tells you to! Music is who you are. If not for yourself, then for me. For Mason. The band was meant to be, but maybe you and Connor weren’t.”

“Jodie.”

“I know. I know. But I’m serious. If Niall treated me like this, you would’ve roundhouse kicked him by now.”

“It’s complicated—“

“But it doesn’t have to be,” she argues.

“.. I don’t wanna talk about it. I don’t, okay? I won’t quit music whenever we get married, okay? He’ll get over it eventually.”

-

When the four of you return home, Connor is on the couch. He's fuming.

You roll your eyes as you walk through the door, ignoring him. The others seem to follow your lead, both not acknowledging his presence.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, storming over to you as you set the Sephora bag on the kitchen counter.

“You’d know where I was if you bothered to show up.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

You gave him a deadpan look, turning to Jodie, Harry, and Niall.

“I did invite you, dumbass,” Jodie scoffs.

“Yep. Invited,” Niall nods.

“.. Invited,” Harry echoes, visibly confused but still going along.

“Well, excuse me if I didn’t feel welcome after my own girlfriend told me to leave my own house when she was gone—“

“Not your own house. Your name isn’t on the lease. And why is that? Oh, right. Because you don’t pay fucking rent like a grown adult.”

“I don’t got a job right now, babe. I’m not stable—“

“Oh, and I am? I sing for a living. You think that’s stable? No. But I do it because I want to, and when I’m not making enough there, I have another job. Jesus, you act like you can’t problem solve.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is your point, Connor?” you sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the kitchen island.

“My point is that you care more about your career than me!"

"Connor, babe, that isn't true, I just-"

"It sure seems like it."

"I just.. I really love it, and it's-- it's what I wanna do with my life, y'know? I don't mean to make you feel that way. I invite you to every show, you just.. don't show up, and-- and that's fine, but I try to include you."

"Yeah, whatever. I guess I forgive you."

You smile, "I love you."

"Love you, too."

The two of you retreat to the bedroom, and it was silent for a moment.

"What the fuck?"

"Welcome to a normal day for us, Harry. Havin' fun yet?" Jodie sighs, patting his shoulder as she walks past him.

-

The next day, you and Jodie went out to look at wedding and bridesmaids dresses.

"So, what are we looking for here,?" Jodie asks you as the two of you stop for coffee in between hitting dress stores. You'd been aimlessly trying on dresses for the better half of the day, and none of them felt right. "I feel like you were just trying on everything, but you weren't happy with a lot of them. So, when you envision your wedding, what is the exact dress you want?"

"I want.. like.. flowery lace with a decent neckline. I want it tight, but kind of flowy once it hits my legs. And.. bell bottom sleeves. The rest I could adjust, but bell bottom sleeves are a must."

"Flower lace, tight top flowy bottom, halter neckline. Got it," Jodie grins. The barista calls your name and you run to go grab the drinks and snacks. The two of you began walking down the street.

"So.. how does Ni know Harry, anyhow?"

"Uh... work, I think? I can't even remember, it's been so long! I think they met before Ni moved here, and then reconnected through work. I could be wrong, though. Ni only told me once when I first met Harry, and that was years ago," she laughs. "But I think it's work, mostly. You don't mind him staying, right? Because, he's sweet, don't get me wrong, but he's also kind of... promiscuous, I guess? Not that he's.. pushy about it! He just is extremely flirty and doesn't really have boundaries sometimes."

"No! No, God, no, he's perfectly fine. I like him. I was just wondering, because I can't remember either of you mentioning him ever," you explained.

"I'm sure we have once or twice, you've just got the memory of a goldfish."

"Shut up! I do not!" you giggle as the two of you walk into the next dress shop of the day.

"Hello! How may I help you?" a woman greets the two of you.

"Hi! My friend here is getting married, and she has a very specific dress in mind! She wants flowery lace, halter top neckline... kind of tight at the top and slightly flowy at the legs? Oh, and bell bottom sleeves. That's the only ones that are non-negotiable."

The woman nods and glances at you.

"I'm pretty sure we've got something exactly like that in your size. I'll bring you a few options."

"Thank you so much!" you tell her and Jodie and you set your things down and sit on the couches by the changing rooms. The two of you talk idly about plans for the band until the woman reappears.

"Alright, love, here's a few similar to what you want. But I think this one is closest to what you want," she smiles kindly as she hands you a stack of dresses, and then one singular one.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" you gush.

"Try it on!" Jodie tells you. You laugh and walk into one of the changing rooms. Obviously, the first dress you try on is the one closest to what you'd envisioned. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

"Hurry up!" Jodie urges.

"Calm down, woman, I'm coming!" you huff as you push the curtain aside and step onto the pedestal.

"Oh, Y/N/N... I think this one might be the one. It's gorgeous!"

"It fits you like a glove," the woman grins.

"I love it!" you squeal. "Here, get a video of me in it. I wanna show Ni whenever we get home."

"Okay. And.. recording!" Jodie tells you.

You spin around in the dress, and it has just enough train to spin with you a tiny bit. You squeal in excitement and jump up and down. "I love it! Bury me in it, honestly."

"I won't send it now just in case he's with Connor, so we'll show him when we get home. But.. and this isn't me saying don't get the dress, I think you should, but I thought Connor didn't want you to get a... revealing dress, I guess is the words?"

You pause and your smile fades, "Yeah, he doesn't. He likes the ballgown ones more, but.. it's my wedding, too, right? I should be able to get my own dress. Besides, he won't see until the day of, and then it'll be too late to be mad. And he can't be mad on our wedding day," you shrug.

"Fair enough. How much is this dress, again?"

"Oh, I forget. Turn and let me check that tag, dear."

You turn so your back is to the store owner.

"It is... three thousand dollars."

You and Jodie both pause. Three thousand? You weren't sure you had that type of money. Not yet, anyway.

"Y/N, I can-"

"Jodie, absolutely not. You can't pay for my wedding dress."

The woman looks between the two of you awkwardly.

"Um.. is it possible to put the dress on hold?" you ask after a beat. "It's just.. I wanna make sure that price is good with my fiancé."

"Oh, of course, love. What's your name?"

"Y/N L/N."

She grabs a sticky note and scribbles it down.

"It'll be on hold for about.. two weeks, does that sound good?"

"Yes, please. Thank you so much."

-

"'Eyyyy, they're back!" Niall cheers as you and Jodie walk in through the door. He and Harry were both on the couch drinking beers, watching something on the TV. "C'mon, I wanna see the dress!"

You and Jodie both laugh and move to the couch. Jodie sits between Harry and Niall while you perch on the armrest as she pulls the video of you in the dress up on her phone.

"Awwe, Y/N/N, you look gorgeous," Niall grins.

"Thank you! Took us forever, but we finally found one that is exactly what I wanted."

"Where is it? I wanna see it in person!"

You and Jodie both hesitate. "Uh.. we.. didn't get it."

"What?" Niall furrows his brows in confusion.

Harry finally chimes into the conversation, "Why the hell not?"

"It was.. um... three thousand dollars. We put it on hold, but.."

"Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you to just use our card? You know I have enough money-"

"I know. Jodie offered, but I feel bad using your money. I don't even know if Connor would like the dress, so maybe-"

"Fuck Connor. Sorry," Harry suddenly says, "excuse me if this isn't my place, but you're the one wearing the dress. If you like the dress, get the fuckin' dress, Y/N. You look great in it."

".. Thank you. I just- I don't really have three thousand dollars," you sigh.

-

At damn near four in the morning, Jodie and Niall prefer to be asleep. However, Harry didn't really seem to care all that much when he came barging in.

"What's the name of the shop?"

"What?" Jodie asks harshly.

"The dress shop. The one Y/N found that dress she likes. What's it called?"

"It's... fuck, it's, like, Wedding Dreams or some stupid shit like that."

"Why are you even asking, Harry? It's fucking four in the morning, go to sleep," Niall grumbles.

"I have to buy a three thousand dollar fucking dress."

"What?"

-

a/n: when he buys ur wedding dress cause ur broke how cute

taglist: @angeldavis777

[princhii]

↳ Ciclos

bada lee x fem!reader

not proofread per usual, this is vry short just a little smtg!

↳ cw!: angst, toxic, cheating, very slightly suggestive, light(?) manipulation. just sad lol

a/n: literally copy n pasted from my notes..! i’m coping rn srry…if i gotta feel it so do all of u..! also i do not condone anything mentioned below the cut. lowkey just venting i’ve had quite the week 🌷

“i trusted you.”

“i know.”

“…”

you sat uncomfortably on the plush sofa, hunching over and covering your face with your now wet hands. your eyes nonstop letting tears roll down.

the only sound audible being sobs you choked out. complete silence on the other end.

you huffed out an exaggerated sigh and sat up, frantically wiping your tears away— trying to, at least. the older girl who sat on the other side of the couch shifted slightly, her eyes glaring over at you. stoic expression. you really couldn’t read her. she extended her arm out, attempting to put her hand on your thigh. quickly, you smacked her hand away and jolted up from the sofa. her expression once again, unreadable. she didn’t even react.

“do you even really care?”

silence.

“bada, answer me. please.”

bada looked up at you before standing up herself. she calmly walked towards you, but still leaving enough distance between the both of you. opening her mouth slightly to say something, she quickly shut it once she realized she truly didn’t know what to say. what does one even say when they get caught cheating? again?

“i know i gain nothing by apologizing. what you saw was real. what you heard was real. it all happened and,” bada groaned lightly, sitting back down on the sofa. “i don’t think anything i say even matters.”

this time you stayed silent. completely.

the two of you in the living room which was now filled with very awkward silence and an uncomfortable tension.

and in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t keep it together any longer. you snapped.

“bada lee, you are so fucking unbelievable! are you even listening to yourself right now?” you shouted.

the older girl just blinked. once again, saying nothing.

“countless times i’ve asked you about her. you knew how those rumors made me feel. you told me not to worry for christ’s sake!” you wept out, your tears once again getting the best of you.

this time, bada reacted. her hands balling into fists.

“i’m…sorry.”

you scoffed at her weak attempt of an apology. this personally annoyed the older girl. it was made known once you saw her get up and grab her keys.

“why do you always do this? any time we try discussing something, you get pissed and you leave. you go out with your friends, jesus, and now i know you go to her.” your chest heaved with every word. could she really not grasp the seriousness of the situation?

looking over her shoulder, bada looked right at you. only this time, you could see how glossy her eyes became. was it guilt?

no.

as much as you wanted to run over to her and beg her to stay, you couldn’t. you froze. how did you know it wasn’t guilt? because it wasn’t the first time, unfortunately. empty promises of her changing, she never changed. bada stayed the same.

“i’ll be back tomorrow. have a good night, y/n.”

tomorrow had in fact, never came.

•·················•·················•

you hurriedly typed away, attempting to finish an essay you had been pushing back up until last minute. your hair in a messy bun, glasses slightly smudged, and very tired eyes. the bright screen of your laptop slowly creeping up on your eyes and stinging some.

you felt your phone vibrating from underneath the covers. you put your laptop to the side and looked for your phone, lifting it up to see what it was and who could possibly be calling you at such late hours.

unknown caller id

it could either be one, a scammer, or two, maybe one of your friends or relatives got a new number.

and handing the caller the benefit of the doubt, you went with the second option and picked it up. immediately regretting your decision as soon as you heard the voice on the other line.

“ah, hello. is this y/n?”

your heart sank, your stomach churning uncomfortably, and your chest suddenly aching. unknown caller was bada. letting out a breathy sigh, you decided to respond instead of hanging up. was it a good idea? no. why would it ever be?

“what do you want?”

“can i come over?”

“you’re insane, leave me alone.” right as you were about to hang up, her voice got louder. growing curious, you pressed your phone against your ear.

“y/n wait, please. i just need to talk to you— in person.”

“it’s two in the morning.”

“it’s been so long, please let me see you. let me talk.”

“a year and eight months but who’s counting?”

you hung up.

•·················•·················•

“i missed you. so much. so damn much.”

the older girl peppering kisses across your jawline. her large hands roaming all over your body, leaving goosebumps along the skin she caressed.

to say you fucked up was an understatement.

both of your naked bodies intertwined and sprawled out on your bed. truth is after you hung up on her earlier, she kept calling and messaging you. quite literally blowing up your phone, it started heating up. you gave in after a while. but only to talk. just talk.

that was not the situation at hand. far from it.

“and you said all you wanted was to talk…”

“and you weren’t complaining when i had my fingers deep insi—“

you cut her off by smacking her away, embarrassed by the truth behind her words. bada laughed softly and pulled you closer towards her, resting her chin atop your head. you felt her fingers lightly stroke your hair, causing you to yawn and grow aware of how tired she had made you. leaning into her touch, your eyes grew heavier. you were sleepy.

“will you be here in the morning?” you muttered.

“of course, my love. i won’t let you go. i love you, y/n.”

your heart fluttered.

“i love you too.”

•·················•·················•

“are you happy?”

“…”

“gotcha.”

you let out a long sigh, feeling like an idiot for even bothering to ask such a stupid question. the older girl scooted closer to you, arms brushing slightly against each other. the two of you sitting on the park bench, looking up mindlessly into the starry night sky.

“can i hold your hand?” bada whispered, fidgeting with her fingers.

“your girlfriend wouldn’t like that. no.”

a long pause of silence was exchanged. although shortly after, the both of you met halfway and interlocked pinkies. you knew you shouldn’t have, but there was no possible way for your heart to slow down. you knew this was a mistake.

bada hummed softly, leaning against the bench and tilting her to the side, giving you a smile. and, god, was she so attractive underneath the pale moonlight. her eyes sparkling perfectly with the way the natural lighting of the moon shun upon her face. her lips curled into that sweet smile she’d always give you. tightening your grip on her pinky, you looked down into your lap. you refused to look at her like this.

“why did this happen to us?” you chuckled dryly, letting go of her pinky to cover your face with both hands.

“i forgave you so many times. you’re doing the same thing to her, except it’s with me now. why couldn’t you just change, bada. why did we have to go through all of this?”

bada kept quiet before answering.

“i still love you.” she huffed.

“we can’t keep doing this. we’re going in circles. it’s a never ending cycle, bada.” you retorted, sneering at the older girl next to you. bada frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. the two of you stayed like this for another good ten minutes. not a single word exchanged between you two. just the sound of the wind breezing lightly and leaves rustling.

you had no intentions in meeting up with her tonight, especially as somewhere as public and open as the park. but here you were, again.

although it wasn’t on your list of plans for the night, you had made a decision, mentally. tonight you were cutting her off for good. you had to.

to say it hurt you was an understatement. it absolutely destroyed you. this person was someone you genuinely saw a future with— someone you did plan your future with. deep down, you’d always hope and pray for the day bada would keep her word and change. she always proved you wrong, though. every. single. time. after the breakup, quite some time had passed and here you guys were. back to square one. bada finds her way to crawl back, and you let her. she’ll shower you with empty promises of her changing, of how much she loves you. oh, and she swears it. only this time it was worse. she was in a relationship, and it wasn’t with you.

it took you by surprise considering the fact that she was dating the girl she had constantly told you not to worry about. and here she is, being unfaithful once again. you couldn’t help but burst out into a hysterical laughter. clutching onto your sides from the pain growing caused by your fit of giggles. the girl next to you gave you a concerned look, but still not bothering to say anything. she’s always like this.

after recollecting yourself, you took a deep breath and stood up from the bench. grabbing the older girl’s hand, you helped her up. bada’s face flushed a very light and subtle pink. you both stood in front of the other. looking up at bada, you couldn’t stop yourself from giving her a smile. she smiled back and pulled you into what you swore was the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced.

“will i ever see you again?” bada finally broke down.

she was crying.

you pulled yourself apart from the taller girl, gently pushing her away from the shared hug. you felt tears pooling in your eyes again.

a huge part of you just wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and try it all over again. give bada just one more chance.

but you knew how the story ends. every time.

“take care of yourself, bada.”

you walked away.

and guess what?

so did she.

[starrywyatt]

chapter 4: don't you think it's sad you've never been in love? 

☆ never saw it comin'- a george clarkey story ☆

! THIS STORY READS BEST IN DARK MODE !

intro

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

madison's pov:

i spent most of the week doing press and attending meetings about tour but today was the day my tour tickets went on sale. it was 9:15am and me and abi were getting on the tube to the boy's flat, even though abi had been there for the past few days anyways. i hadn't seen the boys since last week as i had been busy with work, so i was excited to see them all again.

we walk up to their building and chris had given abigail a spare key yesterday, so we could just let ourselves up. "good morning" arthur hugs us on arrival. "are the other 2 still asleep?" i ask. "i think i heard movement from george's room but i could be wrong" arthur shrugs. we pull up my laptop and i call olivia. she gives us the login for ticketmaster analytics and we can see there's currently 200k people in the queue for the london dates. "jesus christ, how many tickets even are there for london?" i ask olivia. "60k across all 3 dates, so some people will be disappointed" she says and i suddenly feel scared, i don't want to let people down but i also did not expect 200k people to be waiting. we hear a door open and in walks george. "oh good morning" i say, smiling. "too early for this" he says, still half asleep. he walks over and hugs me tightly and gives abi a side hug. "jesus, 200k people in the queue" he leans over and reads my screen. "i know, i'm scared" i say and george walks on the other side of the island to make breakfast. "why?" he laughs. "scared of being too popular" he continues, mocking me. "no but like people will be disappointed" i explain. "like i always say, snooze you lose" george shrugs and i turn my attention back to the screen and there's now a 1 minute countdown. "fuck fuck fuck" i pace around the spot i'm standing in. "30 seconds!" arthur yells and abigail squeals too.

it's finally on sale time and we can see a progress bar of the % of all tickets that have been sold. "what the fuck it's at 30% already" i say, in shock. george leans over and tries to see the screen. "65!" abi shouts and i dramatically fall to the floor, screaming. "80!" olivia says over the phone. "what the fuck, this is not real" i say. "CONGRATS MADISON SCOTT, YOU'RE GOING ON A SOLD OUT ARENA TOUR!" olivia yells on the phone and i see george pull something out from his side. "congrats madison and arthur!" he says and lets off a giant party popper, gaining screams of fear and shock from me. i laugh but i'm still in shock. "WE'RE GOING ON A SOLD OUT TOUR!" i say, grabbing arthur's arm, jumping up and down. "sold out in under 3 minutes, well done"! olivia says, still on the phone. i turn to abigail and she pulls me into a tight hug "i'm so proud of you, what the fuck" and i begin to tear up. this has been my dream for as long as i can remember and the fact it's coming true in a way like this is crazy. george walks round the island and pulls me into a hug also. "well done, i knew you'd do it" he says into my ear as he hugs me. "thank you" i pout when he pulls away. we hear a door open and turn to face the corridor, it's chris. "what the fuck is going on?" he walks out his door, only just woken up by our screaming. "WE'RE GOING ON A SOLD OUT TOUR CHRIS!" i yell to him and it jolts him awake. "oh wow, congrats guys!" he turns to me and arthur. my phone starts ringing and it's andrew. "GIRL, IT'S SOLD OUT! WE COULDN'T EVEN GET TICKETS" andrew almost yells down the phone. "i'm so pissed, i was on there at 9:58" i hear max say in the back. "you do realise i can just give you guys tickets?" i say, laughing. "okay good because max is close to tears" andrew laughs. "pussy!" george says in the back. "shut up george" i laugh. "oh, you're with george?" andrew says in a suggestive tone. "and abi, arthur and chris. calm down" i say. "okay, well we're going to the gym so i'll let you guys go" andrew says. "wait did i hear that correctly? max is going to the gym?" george says, in joke shock. "ha ha, yes i am. fitness legend is returning" max says and we say goodbye and hang up the phone.

"i can't believe the tour starts next month, i need to start packing!" arthur says. "i know, that's kinda my fault i took too long to plan it" i say. "we should go out for dinner to celebrate" chris says from the corner with abi in his lap. "i'm literally flying to new york tonight" i say sadly. "sorry? america?" george says, shocked. "yeah, got to do promo and perform on jimmy fallon. pretty cool but like i also hate flying" i shrug. "what the hell! that's so cool" arthur says. "thankssss. speaking of, i need to go home and pack. abi are you coming or staying here?" she decides to stay with chris, so i head home myself. "if you wait, i'm going gym i'll walk to the tube with you? let me just get changed" george proposes and i decide it's an alright plan so i agree.

george appears after about 5 minutes, in his gym gear and i catch myself staring. i look down, "ready?" he says, smiling and i smile back before snapping out of my daze and standing up. we make it outside and walk to the tube station. "what time's your flight?" george asks. "8pm, but i get scared i'm going to mess something up so i'll probably leave at like 4?" i almost question. these are normally the things my mum plans, i'm still not used to doing it myself. "yeah, check when you're check in opens is the best bet. are you flying alone?" he asks. "yeah unfortunately, my manager is already out there. it's gonna be so boring" i sigh. "well, do i have a cure for you. i happen to know of this fantastic podcast that already has hours of content published" he smirked. "does it happen to be called 'the rubbish hotline'? i joke back. "nope, that's max's spin off" "right, okay maybe i'll check it out" i smirk. "well, if you get wifi i'm doing nothing all evening. i can tell you some jokes, keep you entertained" george shrugs. "hmm, i think i'll pass" i joke. "wow, that's rude" george says pretending to be offended. "what gym do you go to?" i ask george. "pure gym waterloo" "that's literally right next to my flat... and i still don't go" i laugh. "it's a good gym to be honest, we should go sometime" he says. "i will keep that in mind, i probably should do some cardio for tour" "there's plenty of ways to get cardio in" george says in his funny voice. "hmm really? like what" i smirk. "you know, shagg- no i'm joking" we both burst into laughter. "smooth" i nod. we finally make it on the tube and i guess we're getting off at the same stop. "what are your plans when you get back?" george asks as we sit down. "pack, have a mental breakdown, pack some more and then stress that i've forgotten something" i shrug. "you should be fine. as long as your have clothes and your passport. you'll be good to go" he shrugs like it's nothing. "not true. i need skincare and i need to pack for the climate, is it gonna be hot or cold? will there be any formal dinners? will i need a swimming costume? will i need any accessories? lots to think about" i say, realising i'm talking really fast. "sorry, internal thoughts" i laugh nervously. "it's fine. how big is your suitcase? pack one outfit for every feasible scenario?" he says and he's probably right but i'll still stress about it, how is he so chill about everything?

we get off the tube and walk to our destinations. the gym was actually just past my flat, so george walked with me to my apartment. "have a safe trip, i'll see you when you're back probably" george says. "yeah definitely. i'm sure you'll have abi to keep you entertained" i laugh. "she'll be moving in soon!" george jokes. "tell me about it, and they've only known each other about 2 weeks" i say. "well, have a good workout" i add. "thanks, sure i will" george says and leans in for a hug and of course i reciprocate before he walks away and i catch myself watching the distance between us grow and him disappearing, before snapping out of it and going into my building.

george's pov:

i walk past madison's apartment and make a mental note of the surroundings. this sounds weird, but i have something in mind for later. i make it to the gym and i have a good workout, i decide to put madi's new album on as i still hadn't heard the full thing besides the popular ones that are on every radio station you put on. the songs get me through my workout and i thankfully brought spare clothes, so i decide to get a quick shower in the gymp and head out to plan my surprise for madison.

madison's pov:

it had been about an hour since i left george and came home. i had made some progress, i had counted out my underwear and chosen a few of the outfits i want to take. suddenly my phone starts ringing, it's george. i was slightly confused but i answer "hello, um i'm outside can you let me in?" he asks and i say yes and he hangs up and i'm very confused as to what's going on. i walk downstairs and george is stood there, waiting for me. "hey, are you okay?" i ask him, still confused. "yeah, i just wanted to drop these to you" he passes me a bag and i open it up. inside is my favourite sandwich and drink from joe and the juice and some primark packing cubes. i look up at him in shock, "george what the hell? you didn't have to do this!" i say, pulling him into a hug. "it's no bother, i knew you were stressed about packing and i thought they'd be useful and i also thought you'd probably be too busy to make lunch, so i asked abi what one you liked" he says and my heart is swelling, i notice he also has a bag of food for himself. "do you want to come up and eat it?" i ask. "i don't mind, i didn't want to make you feel like i had to come in if you're still packing" he says, panicking slightly. "just come upstairs clarkey" i laugh and he follows.

we sit down at the kitchen table and unbox the food george had kindly bought. "excuse the state of the place, abigail was stressed trying to find a specific outfit the other day and caused a hurricane in the living room" i roll my eyes. "it's fine, you've seen the state of our place" he laughs and i agree. "have you packed much?" george asks, taking a sip of his drink. "some, i made a start" i laugh. "well, better than zero" george shrugs. "exactly what i say"

we talk for the next hour and george seems genuinely interested and asks me about the trip and what i'm doing and i ask him for tips for the best way to get to gatwick airport. i don't think even he really knows the best way, but he is keen to help which makes me smile. "just remember any specific clothes, medication and passport as they're pretty much the only things you can't buy out there" he says. "that is a very good point" i nod. 

after another 30 minutes, george decides to head back home. "thank you so much for doing this, you really didn't have to" i say, still in shock at what he'd done. "i promise it's fine, i was going past anyways and thought it'd help you out" in all honesty, i now have a lot less time and am gonna have to rush to pack the rest of my case but i really didn't mind. we hug again but this time it feels more intimate i don't know why, i didn't want to let go but i do and he walks off.

i end up packing the rest of my case and the packing cubes are very useful, thanks george. i call an uber to the tube station and i follow the route george helped me plan and thankfully make it to the airport with plenty of time.

i make it through security and have an hour until boarding so i browse through the shops. the flight was long but i manage to download a few episodes of the useless hotline to watch.

"most likely to get cheated on" their producer calls out. "well this is hard because i'm in a healthy relationship but george has never had a girlfriend" max laughs. "i don't see what's so funny" george says back, smirking. "do you not think it's like so sad you've never been in love" max says. "i mean it will happen one day, i'm not in a rush" george shrugs.

i realise he was not joking about the never having a girlfriend thing, but how? he's one of the nicest guys i've ever met or from what i've seen so far. and not to mention he's not exactly ugly... i end up watching all 5 of the episodes i downloaded just in case there's any more embarrassing george stories i am unaware of. and then i sleep for the remaining few hours. i am woken up by the flight announcement that we were landing, thank god. i wake myself up and prepare for landing.

my manager, olivia tells me that she's waiting for me by the exit. i begin to find the exit and am bombarded with paparazzi. for a moment, i forget that i am actually kind of well known. however, in that moment i had no security and felt slightly vulnerable as i was not expecting this. "madison, over here" "madison, who's your new album about?" i shield my face and grip my suitcase tight. thankfully at the end of the road i see my manager through the window of a taxi, i run towards the door and she opens it and the driver takes my bag and i'm finally away from all the cameras. "oh my god" i say slightly out of breath. "quite the welcome" olivia laughs. "i was not expecting that, at all" i also laugh. "yeah, we're working on security as we speak. you're a lot bigger out here than you realise. we also need to get working on US tour dates" olivia says, straight into manager mode and i just nod.

[jxtina-86]

Control

Part of the Roman/Katherine series - this follows on a few months after the The Request where these two decided to level-up their escapades.

Two things inspired this. This promo which makes my brain short-circuit every time I see it and this GIF series. Especially the first one. Jesus Christ. Anyway - credit to the owner (and @thesamoanqueen for finding that first one MONTHS ago when I first had this idea).

Oh and I spent way too much time hunting around for a certain item that features in this and reading the reviews - my search history is beyond rescue at this point.

Warning: Sexual content/descriptions

Rating: MA

Comments/reblogs/likes all welcome!

****

Katherine rolls her neck slowly, easing the tension that's built up from sitting still for too long. Stretching her arms up briefly, she drops her hands to her face and pushes her glasses up to rub her eyes.

Letting the frames fall back into place, she blinks at the screen. She clocks the time in the corner and knows she should shut her laptop down and come back to it in the morning with fresh eyes. But yet…

Her brow furrows as she re-reads the last few paragraphs. She knows it's a bad habit - she should leave it alone, let the words sit and breathe a little longer before she edits, but in moments of frustration, such as this one, she can't help herself.

Her finger hovers over the delete button for a second before she shakes her head and retracts her hand. Spinning slowly away from the desk, she once again pushes her glasses up onto her head. Closing her eyes, she slowly pieces together fragments of the intended scene in her head.

His hands, one gliding down her body, fingers tugging… the other cupping her face, turning it to his.

His body pressed against her back, firm, strong. She melts into his embrace, her body loose and willing as his fingers slip between her legs.

Her thighs open, welcoming him and she relishes in the groan that vibrates through him as he teases the exposed and sensitive skin.

A loud buzz.

No. That's not right.

Her eyes flicker open and she sees her phone lit up. She already knows it's him before she even spots the name.

Back at the hotel x

She swipes to reply but he sends through another message before she finishes.

You better be in bed, baby girl. It’s late x

Busted, she grins at the screen as she taps out a reply.

I'm working x

Go to bed x

Make me x

She chews her lip, waiting as she sees that he’s typing. There’s a brief pause and then…

She grins as both her face and his flashes up on the screen - a new photo she took the last time they were together in the back of a cab on the way back from a bar. The smirk on his face and her wide eyes give away the fact that his hand, not seen in the photo, was sliding over her thigh and between her legs as she’d taken the snap.

Her skin tingles at the memory, but Katherine still leans back in her chair in mock defiance as she answers the video call. Yet the second she sees him, her resolve begins to crumble - even she would admit that was inevitable.

Roman is standing in a hotel bathroom, in a pair of grey joggers that are slung deliciously low on his hips. Katherine physically has to suppress a whimper, her eyes unsure of where to look as she takes in his chest, abs, arms, face, the faint imprint of his dick against the grey material.

Roman smirks, leaning forward to tower over the phone he has propped on the vanity.

“See something you like?”

“Always,” she replies, not missing a beat.

“You should be in bed. It’s nearly midnight there, baby girl.”

“I know. But I was mid-flow.”

“Bullshit,” he chuckles. “You wouldn’t have replied if you were.”

Katherine pouts in response.

“Bed,” he tells her. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Will you?” She tries not to sound too hopeful.

Roman scrapes a hand across his face. “This was your idea, baby girl.”

She pouts. “I didn’t realise a four-week stint was on the cards.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“No, Ro…”

“Someone dropped the ball, my schedule got fucked. I swear to God, I gave ‘em fuckin’ hell.” His brown eyes stare at her pleading through the screen.

“So when are you back?”

“Saturday.”

“So three extra days?”

“Yeah…” he exhales slowly. “I’m sorry, Kat.”

She forces a smile. “It’s okay. Shit happens.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you. Dinner on Saturday. I’ll take you to that fancy sushi place you’ve been telling me about.”

“It’s booked up for weeks, I tried.”

“Good job you got yourself a man with contacts then.”

“How-”

“Uh-huh, I got contacts, that’s all you need to know.”

She smiles. “Okay, okay. Thank you. I can’t wait.”

“For you, anything.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”

A deep laugh echoes through the screen. “Oh, you really are trying it on tonight, baby girl.”

“Four weeks, Ro,” Katherine whines, unashamed of how much of a brat it makes her sound.

He shakes his head. “Firstly, this was your idea. I’m just playing my part. And secondly, it’s only a few more days. Plus,” his voices drops an octave. “You’re doing so well.”

A shiver curls down her spine. “Yeah?”

He nods slowly, his head rocking to the side as he eyes her. “You can hang on a few more days.”

She knows he’s right - it was her idea.

And she also knows that if she does default on this agreement, there’s no real consequence. He’d only take it further if she asked him to.

But the way he embodies the character she demands of him - a man in charge of her pleasure - makes her feel that she owes it to him to carry out her part.

She didn’t quite imagine it would end up like this - what had started as the occasional teasing play had quickly evolved. The sex had been pretty fucking wild before she’d made the request. Now it was off the charts.

Now she could only cum with his permission and more crucially, only in his physical presence.

In past travel stints, they’d survived on phone sex, purring down the phone at each other, listening to each other’s breathless moans, slick fists and fingers and the occasional gentle hum of a toy. 

Now he’d pull her back from the brink, even from miles away with just one solitary word she finds she can’t ignore. Stop.

It had been equal parts delicious and torturous. Katherine had countdowns set on her phone for each trip away, waiting for his return. But even then, he’d take his sweet time, watching her writhe in frustration until he relents and tells her ‘now’.

But four weeks. Four weeks was not the plan. And nor was an additional three days.

He interrupts her thoughts. “Did a package arrive today?”

She blinks. “Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

“Go open it for me.”

She does as she’s told - the spell is wound too tightly to refuse him anything at this stage - and heads for kitchen. “Why’d they send it here?”

“I asked them too. Knew you’d be in to take it and saves me getting a redelivery or going to the depot.”

She nods, placing the phone against a mug on the counter before finding a knife to slice open the box. “What is it?” she asks as she peels back the flaps of the box.

He smirks. “You’ll see.”

“What’s with the mystery?” Katherine grumbles lightly as she rifles through the packing paper that fills the box. Her hand finds a smaller box - two in fact. She tugs the first free and casts Roman a curious look. “A new phone?”

“For you.”

“Why-”

“Find anything else?”

“Yeah, I-” she stops as she pulls out the other box and sees the image on the front. She raises an eyebrow. Looking back at the phone, she sees the wicked smile playing across Roman’s face. “You’re a bastard, you know that right?”

“What?” He winks. “Can’t I treat you, baby girl?”

“This,” she taps the box. “This is not a treat. This is a torture device.”

“Don’t be too hasty,” he smirks. “Read the box.”

She scans the blurb and then looks back up at him. “Oh…”

“Not such a bastard after all, right?”

“Perhaps,” she throws him a wink. “But Ro… it says it needs a Bluetooth connection to set up and link to more than one phone.”

“Two steps ahead of you, baby girl.” Grinning, he tugs a phone from his pocket and flashes it at the screen.

“You planned this?”

“Well, I didn’t quite plan not being with you to try it out together but actually, this works just as well…”

Katherine can feel her heart starting to pound as she opens the box and the vibrator slides into her hand. “Pretty,” she tells him with a grin.

“Turn the phone on. Passcode is your birthday.”

She does as she’s told and when the phone boots up, she clicks on the solitary app on the homescreen. A second later, she jumps as the vibrator starts to hum in her hand and she looks up to see Roman grinning at her. He twists his hand to show her the app opened on his second phone too, his thumb on the screen sliding slowly up. As he does, the vibrations gradually increase and Katherine feels her breath catch in her throat.

“All in my control,” Roman murmurs, his dark eyes meeting hers through the screen.

She nods, almost hypnotised.

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby girl.”

“You… you are?” Katherine feels a tremor down her spine at the thought. 

“Only if you do exactly what I tell you.”

“I will.”

“Good girl.” A whimper escapes her before she can stop it and he scrapes a hand over his face and down his neck with a deep chuckle. “One day I’m gonna see if I can just make you cum by saying that over and over again…”

“That,” she breathes shakily. “Would be one hell of a dangerous talent.”

“More dangerous than this?” His thumb is back on the app and the vibrator jolts once again in her hand. “Bed, baby girl.”

She doesn’t need telling twice. She eagerly gathers the three devices in her hands and makes her way to the bedroom. Propping up her main phone against the lamp on the bedside table, she awaits his next instruction.

“Strip. Slowly.”

Taking a step back so he can see her fully, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her tight shorts. Turning away from the screen, she wriggles her hips as she slides the material over her ass before slowly bending forward.

She hears a sharp intake of breath from behind her and glances over her shoulder. Roman’s eyes are dark with lust and his tongue slips out to wet his lips briefly as his head tilts to one side. “Keep going,” he breathes.

With a grin, she edges the shorts down her legs before she slowly straightens. Turning back to face him, she crosses her arms to grab the hem of her shirt before pulling it up and over her head. Cool air hits her breasts and she cups them, her thumbs brushing over her bare nipples.

“Fuck,” Roman groans. “Keep going.”

She shakes her head. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” he says, taking a step back and dropping his gaze down for a second. He drops a hand to the waistband of his sweatpants and tugs them an inch further south but not far enough.

“Show me what’s mine,” Katherine whines softly.

“What’s yours, huh?” He glances up, his hand letting go of the waistband and dropping instead to palm his dick through the material. “You’re gonna be in a whole world of trouble when I get home.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Missed those sweet fuckin’ lips on my dick,” he groans. “Fuck, keep touching your tits baby girl.”

She does as he requests, her fingers gently circling her hardening nipples and she’s rewarded almost instantly. She bites her lip, her head rocking to the side as he pushes his sweatpants down and kicks them away. It still takes her breath away every time she sees him naked - every part of him is chiselled and toned to perfection and she can’t quite believe her luck that she gets to explore every part of him.

She watches, transfixed as he takes his hard dick in his hand and pumps it slowly. She closes her eyes briefly and remembers the last time they were together - on her knees in front of him, hands loose on those deliciously thick and taut thighs of his. She’d gazed up at him, her brain still foggy from the intense orgasm he’d bestowed on her moments before, her mouth open as he fisted his dick with one hand, the other wrapped in her hair.

“Get on the bed,” his voice cuts through her thoughts and it takes her a second to remember where she is.

She steps forward and readjusts the phone on the bedside table, making sure he can see her and she can see him.

“What were you thinking about?” he prompts as she settles back against the pillows.

“Our last time together,” she sighs. “I’ve thought about that night every fucking night since.”

He grins. “Me too.”

“And the morning after…”

“That too,” he agrees. 

It had been equal parts rough, messy, fast, slow, tender, loving. He’d pushed and pulled her body in ways that left her unsure which way she was lying, facing, standing. He’d growled in her ear commands to wait, stop, cum, knees, open wide. And then he’d scooped her up, carried her to where she lay now, and cocooned her in his arms until she fell asleep.

The following morning, every movement was slow and gentle - he’d adorned every inch of her with soft, warm kisses, making his way down beneath the sheets and made slow, lazy love to her, his body pressed firmly against hers, his hands cupping her face to kiss her as her legs at wrapped around his waist.

“Stop,” Roman murmurs and Katherine realises her hand is on her stomach. She feels her cheeks flush as she blinks at the camera. 

“I…”

“You’re forgetting something.” He lifts the spare phone into view. “I’m in control, remember?”

She nods, reaching for the toy before taking a shaky breath of anticipation. A second later, it begins to hum softly in her palm.

“Squeeze them tits for me again,” he tells her and she notes the soft rasp in his voice already.

She obliges him, her free hand palming her breasts for a moment, awaiting his next instruction.

“Pinch your nipples for me.”

She gazes at the screen, feeling the haze starting to cloud her mind. He’s leaning against the vanity again, one hand out of sight that she knows is back fisting his dick and her mouth waters at the thought.

“Now with the toy.”

The vibrations hum through her body as she glides the toy across her breasts before circling one nipple and then the other, making both impossibly long and taut. All that’s missing is his hot mouth and tongue on them and she tells him so, drawing a shaky ‘fuck’ from him before he resumes control.

Literally.

The vibrations kick up a notch and Katherine’s back arches in response as she continues to drag the toy over the sensitive skin of her breasts. She lets the toy slide down to her ribs for a second, finding the spot that makes her squirm from any touch, her head flooded with the memory of Roman discovering it for the first time and practically latching onto it until she begged him stop through squeals.

“Uh-huh,” he corrects her and she returns the focus to her breasts once again. “Better. But I need to know…”

“Know what?” she manages to get out as she swirls the tip of the vibrator around one nipple again and again.

“How fuckin’ wet you are.”

She lets her free hand drag over her stomach slowly, her legs spreading. She can feel how wet she is already - the combination of the situation, the toy, him, her imagination all make it inevitable. She lets her fingers caress her inner thighs for a second before she slides two fingers across her wet slit.

“So wet,” she tells him with a groan.

“Show me…”

She pushes her two fingers inside herself briefly, letting out a moan as she does. She pumps them slowly, once, twice before she holds her hand aloft to show the glistening mess.

“Taste yourself.”

She bites her lip for a second, holding his gaze before she rubs the tips of her fingers across her bottom lip and then swirls her tongue around them. She grins at the screen, watching Roman’s eyes clouding with lust and wonderment.

“I taste good,” she murmurs.

“I know,” he rasps. “I’m gonna eat that pussy up all fuckin’ night when I get home, I swear. You’ll be beggin’ me to stop.”

“Never,” she promises. “You between my thighs, why the hell would I tell you to stop.”

“My favourite place, baby girl. And you might not be telling me to stop, but I sure as hell have to hold you still to get you good.”

“That just makes me wetter,” she teases. “I miss you, Ro.”

“I miss you too, Kat,” he says softly. “I had a whole other plan for this tonight.”

“Yeah? Tell me…”

“I was gonna drag that damn toy over your entire body. Real slow too - I wanted to hear all those breathy moans you give me when I’m teasin’ you.” The rasp is back in his voice and Katherine can feel her skin start to prickle in anticipation once again. “Do it, baby girl. Do what I’m saying.”

She lets out a soft moan as she moves the toy down her body at last.

“All the way,” he encourages. “That’s it… across your stomach, tease them thighs for me…”

Katherine’s eyes close as her back arches as the vibrations near her core. She’s not sure how she’s going to last beyond a minute when this toy is inside her.

“Slow,” Roman’s voice echoes beside her. “Spread those legs for me.”

“Ro…” she whines.

“Almost,” he promises as she bites her lip as the vibrations relent for a second. “Tease your pussy for me, talk to me…”

“Fuck, Ro…” her voice catching in her throat as she runs the toys over her wet entrance. “Like when you tease me with your dick, making me beg for it…”

“Just like that, baby girl.”

“Or when you spit and blow on my clit,” she gasps, her back arching at the thought. “And then you wrap your… your arms around my waist so I can’t escape… Ro…”

“Keep going…” The vibrations kick in again for a split second, just as she drags the toy over her clit and she yelps in shock. His chuckle fills her mind and she doesn’t need to open her eyes to see the wicked grin on his face.

“I… I need it,” she gasps.

“Keep teasing,” he tells her. “You know how I love to make my dick nice and wet with your juice before I fuck you… Do exactly that…”

His breath hitches and her eyes flick open to see that he’s moved - no longer in the hotel bathroom, he’s on the bed, the phone angled so that whilst she can’t see his face, she can see the length of his body. She groans as she sees his hand, slowly pumping his dick, his thumb swiping over the tip with every other stroke.

“Kat…” he breathes. “You listening to me?”

“Yeah,” she moans.

“Push it inside you.”

She gasps as she does. It’s the first time he’s let her put a toy inside her for four weeks and even though the toy is far smaller than what she’s used to, it feels impossibly big. Her back arches as she slowly pushes it deeper inside herself, her breath ragged at the sensation.

Rocking her head to the side, Katherine glances at the screen. Roman has moved again so she can see his face. His dark eyes glint wickedly at her as with one hand he still grips his thick cock and the other flicks the vibrations up a notch. Her whole body starts to hum and she lets out a strangled whimper.

“Do not,” he half-growls slowly. “Cum. Not until I tell you.”

“Ro…” she gasps. “Please…”

The vibrations stop and she’s left panting and squirming whilst he chuckles at her from a thousand miles away. “Too much, huh?”

“You…”

He grins. “I’m going easy on you, baby girl. This is nothing compared to Saturday…”

Katherine can feel her brain start to short-circuit. “What… what about Saturday?”

“That’s for me to know.”

She groans in frustration and then gasps again as the vibrations start again. Her hands grip the sheets tightly, twisting them around her fists as she tries to anchor herself to the bed.

“Breathe,” he tells her and she lets out a shaky breath in response, unable to stop herself from doing anything he says.

Through hazy eyes, she gazes at him through the screen, watching his hand grip his dick firmly and his abs tense. His head rolls back for a second and she wonders what he’s thinking.

“Tell me,” she moans.

“Tell you what?” he replies throatily.

“What you’re thinking about.”

“You. Always you, baby girl. You grinding on me, sliding up and down my dick.”

She nods, her eyes closing. “Your hands on my tits… then up to my neck and pulling me down to kiss you… Flipping me over onto my back, pushing my…” she gasps as the thought swirls around her head. “My legs up over your shoulders so you… you can go deeper… Ah, fuck…”

“That’s it,” he groans. “Wrapping my arms around your legs so they don’t fall and fuckin’ you hard and deep…”

“Twisting me over,” Katherine’s mind is overdrive now, snippets of past encounters flashing before her. “Pulling my hips up, pushing my head down so you can fuck me even harder…”

She’s not sure how she’s getting the words out. Her body is on edge, the toy throbbing inside her, pulsating even and every part of her is tingling. Her mind races on, imagining Roman pulling out of her with a growl and flipping her back over, his mouth on hers for a second before he slides down her body and wraps her legs around his head. What a combination that would be, his tongue and mouth on her clit whilst the toy hums inside her.

“It’s like you read my mind,” she hears him groan and only then does she realise that thought has spilt out of her mouth.

“I just…” she whimpers softly as she feels blood rushing to her ears. “Ro…”

“Not yet…” The hum of the toy inside her ebbs slightly and she tries to steady her breathing to slow down the surge of pleasure rattling through her.

“Please…” she chokes out.

“Soon,” he promises. “I got you, baby girl. I promise.”

Fixated on the screen, she watches as his leg twitches and she knows he’s close. “I wish I was there, Ro…” she starts, watching his head roll back onto the pillows. “My hand where yours is right now. My mouth too, running my tongue up and down your dick, taking you all the fucking way…”

“Shit… Kat…”

“Keep going,” she tells him, enjoying the thrill of telling him what to do for once. “You gripping my head, pulling me back and telling me to open wide so you can cum on my tongue…”

“Kat…” he growls, his eyes closing tightly as he gasps and she watches enthralled as he cums, his fist pumping himself dry as she moans at the sight.

“Ro…”

His chest rises and falls as he sinks back against the pillows for a second and then she squeals as the vibrator jolts back to life inside her.

“I got a request,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” Katherine manages to get out, her body tense with anticipation as her back arches yet again.

“Saturday. My flight gets in at 5. I’ll be at yours by 7. You better be ready.”

“I will be,” she promises.

“Wear those heels that I like. The black ones. And that dress that makes your ass look amazing.”

“Done,” she groans. “Anything else?”

“The toy.”

“What… what about it?” Her breathing is getting more laboured as she twists on the bed.

“I want you to have it in you already.”

“Ro… no…”

“Oh yes, baby girl. I’m gonna tease you all fuckin’ night. I want my dessert nice and wet after dinner,” he chuckles.

She can picture it now: sat in a dark corner of the restaurant, one of his hands casually resting on her thigh whilst with the other he sends powerful vibes quite literally her way. She can see herself gripping the table, trying to compose herself as he grins wickedly and then leans towards her and whispers dirty thoughts into her ear.

“I told ya I was gonna eat your pussy up when I got back. I just wanna make sure it’s perfect for when I do…”

“Fuck… Ro…”

He chuckles. “Take my sweet time with you till you’re a fuckin’ mess. Squeeze and pinch your tits as I do, make you taste yourself on my fingers, fuck you with that damn toy until you scream my name, baby girl…”

She’s on the edge, right there, waiting for that word, begging him to say it.

“Then I’m gonna fuck you slowly… Pull all the way out and then push back in inch by inch so you feel every single part of my dick buried inside you…”

“Ro…”

“Tell you what a good fuckin girl you are…”

Her eyes roll back as she balances on the edge, her breath caught in her chest, the vibrations too much now. There’s no way back, even if she tries, she’s right there and she’s going to…

“Cum.”

She falls, with a gasp that echoes around her head. His name tumbles from her as every inch of her body erupts with force and she feels herself twisting and writhing without shame before him.

Her head throbs as she comes down from the high and she tenderly unclenches her fists from the sheets.

“You okay?” Roman’s voice cuts through as always, pulling her back. “Talk to me, Kat.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, her eyes still squeezed shut as she grounds herself back in the here and now.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me.”

She twists her head towards the phone and opens her eyes slowly. His face fills the screen, his eyes wide and full of concern like they always are after moments like these.

“That was amazing,” she reassures him as she reaches down between her legs to remove the toy. Her own eyes widen as she feels how wet she still is. “Jesus, Ro… I think you made me…”

He laughs. “Just imagine what I can make you do on Saturday.” He tucks his arm beneath his head and not for the first time tonight, she wishes he was there next to her, wrapping his big arms around her.

“You’re serious about what you said, aren’t you?” She picks up the phone, bringing it closer to her as if that will make a difference to the distance between them.

“Deadly serious.” He eyes her for a second. “But only if you’re up for it.”

She chews her lip. “I am…”

“You don’t seem sure.”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what?”

Despite the space he offers her, she can’t find the words. Not the right ones anyway. She can’t tell if it’s the post-orgasm haze or something else, but she can’t put into words the disconnected thoughts running through her head.

She can feel him watching her, so she smiles to reassure him.

“Tell me,” he murmurs. “Or… Can I tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“If you’re worried that I see you differently because of all this shit we do together… You best believe that ain’t true.”

She stares at him in disbelief. How…

“I do this for you because I wanna make you happy, baby girl. You wanted to explore it, I was right there with you. But that doesn’t change how I see you. It’s just a tiny part of what we do together. I think you gave me an opportunity to tap into something too and I like it. But I like you more.”

She blinks. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Read my mind.”

He grins. “I know you, baby girl. Inside out. Literally,” he winks and she feels her cheeks flush. “But seriously, Kat. I’m not here just for this. This is just a bonus. At the end of the day… I just want you.”

Her heart flips. They’ve skirted around this for months - she’s bitten her tongue far too often not wanting to ruin it in case he was just looking for a casual fuck.

“I just want you too,” she hears herself whisper and his eyes light up at the words.

“I’m still doing what I promised you earlier on Saturday,” he tells her. “But on Sunday morning, I’m gonna show you exactly how much more you mean to me than just that.”

“You always do,” she says softly.

“What do you mean?”

“You do that already. Whenever we have nasty sex, the next time you’re treat me like glass.”

Now it’s his turn to blush and he runs his hand over his face with a grin. “See? I can’t hide it.”

“Hide what?”

“I’ll tell you Sunday.”

But she already knows.

Fin x

So... votes for a follow-up? Wanna see how Saturday unfolds...? Or Sunday...?

[fallen-child-escapism]

Can you get 2 me?

Chapter 2

Dib groaned as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Being a sophmore in College was going smoothly. Very smoothly. Hes bored, to put it blunt. He shuts the laptop and stands, stretching and popping his joints before climbing into bed. When he rolled over he heard a knock. "Who the hell-" he tumbles out of bed again and opens the door, eyes dropping lower when he doesn't see anyone.

"Zim? Dude what are you doing here", Dib leans out the doorway and looks down either direction of the hallway," get in here,man". Dib locks the door behind them. "Okay Zim what's going on. You couldn't call before showing up at my fucking house?" Zim and Dib caught eyes for the first time that night. Dib sighed and sat on his bed. "Dude...you look like shit" Zim's eyes watered and held his backpack to his chest. "w-wait wait hold on! Shit- ", Dib panics the second Zim loses his composure. He slips down to Zim's level and holds onto his arms," Zim calm down please, what happened" Zim choked on his words and hung his head low, unzipping the bag and pulling the bundle out. Dib hesitates but takes the swaddle and shifts through the folds until he finds the metal body of Gir. "What...happened to him?" Zim gritted his sharp teeth," The Tallest disconnected. He's Offline. There's nothing I can do to bring him back" more tears fall from Zim's large Magenta eyes. Dibs eyes widen. This is real. For a moment he considers this is a ploy, another scheme to take over the world by the malicious green alien. But Zim's disheveled appearance, the fact he's standing in front of him crying his heart out. There's no way this isn't real,"do you uh, want a hug?". Zim nodded. Dib pulls him into his arms and Zim shoves his face into Dib's chest, getting his shirt wet. "Dib?", Zim squeaks,"I don't want to stay..at my base. I don't know where to go" The realization settled in on Dib, "I mean...you can stay here, if you want?" Zim looked up into his eyes, "please?", He begged. Dib's heart broke. "yeah...yeah man, you can stay as long as you need okay?"

Gir's body gets wrapped back up and placed back into the bag. Zim hides the bag in the closet. "What happened to your clothes man?", Dib asked, finally getting a look at Zim's appearance. Zim winced," I uh, I ripped them up. I don't have any other clothes, besides this jacket I mean...But I no longer want to bare my Irken uniform" Dib hangs Zim's jacket up and nods, not prying. "Here, you can put these on. they're clean, you can change in here" Dib hands Zim a T-shirt and boxers and leads Zim to the bsthroom. Zim nods and takes the clothes, letting Dib shut the door behind him.

Dib was standing in the kitchenette area of the studio apartment when Zim exited the bathroom. He stood behind Dib and the tall man jumped when he turned around. "Jesus Christ Zim! Don't sneak up on me like that". One of the alien's antenna flattened against his head," er, sorry" Dib was once again caught off guard by the shorter's attitude. "Yeah, uh, here", He handed Zim a small mug of hot chocolate. "I made sure it's not too hot so you wouldn't get mad" Zim looked into the mug and said "thanks"

It was now about 3am. Zim had finished his drink and still hasn't spoken much. How much of his personality change was new found maturity over the past two years or the fresh pain of Gir's disconnection. The green one's eyes drooped. Dib could've sworn Irkens didn't need to sleep. Maybe he was just shutting down because of the mental exhaustion? Either way, the sight reminded Dib he needed to get to bed. "You wanna go to bed?", He sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at Zim. Zim kept his head down but nodded slightly. Did sighed and picked him up and laying him on the bed. "Get comfy. Wake me up if you need anything okay?" ,Dib rolled over after Zim settled down.

Zim watched the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling as he gripped onto a black moth like plushie. He didn't want to give into sleep. But his eyes were heavy and dry. And his spot next to Dib felt surprisingly safe and warm. He quickly found himself slipping into sleep mode.

[afoolandathief]

Happy STS! I might be bearing my own secrets a little here, but oh well! Your characters are playing a dating game, which archetype are they going for? (ie: the arrogant one, the cold one, the childhood friend, the older man, the shy one, the flirt, etc)

"Old man."

"What?"

Caz looked down at Jade. He was leaning over her and her laptop as she moved the cursor over the dating sim's options.

"I said, I wanna try and bag the silver fox," he went on.

Jade raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is this, like, you relating to someone your actual age?"

"Oh, that's hilarious, Shaw. Look at me, I'm splitting my sides laughing," Caz said drily. "Now, would you just click on him?"

Jade moved her mouse over the cartoon, gray-haired man. A dialogue option came up as the man sneered from her laptop screen.

"Ooh, he's mean too?" Caz leaned far too close to Jade. "Ya know, I don't usually go for guys like him."

"That's what I thought," Jade said. She leaned back in her chair, relieving herself of being in direct line with a vampire's breath. "So, why did you pick him, then?"

Caz leaned over the laptop, using the keyboard arrows to select a line of dialogue.

"Well, I mean, I usually like guys I could break in half," he said. "Sort of the opposite with women. But he was the only option that seemed — I don't know, stern? I always like someone who doesn't take any shit."

He swore in Romanian and stabbed at the keyboard.

"Câcat, how do I pick this thing?"

"Enter key," Jade said. She leaned over the keyboard and showed him.

"Thanks, Shaw," Caz said. "Hey, you've played this before, right? Who'd you pick?"

"It's not important," Jade said.

"Oh, well, if it's not important."

He moved the cursor across the computer screen. Jade shot forward as the phrase "Are you sure you want to quit?" blazed in front of her in bright red letters.

"What are you doing?"

"You can find old versions of the game under 'Saved,' right?"

"Oh, now you're suddenly an expert on P.C. games?"

Jade went for the mouse, but Caz was faster. She tried to think of a spell that interrupted Bluetooth signals, but it was too late. The screen loaded a scene at a nightclub featuring a pale, dark-haired man in a ruffled shirt. One earring dangled from his ear as the animation moved his fanged mouth open and closed. A line of dialogue about only going out at night appeared.

"Holy shit," Caz breathed.

He stumbled back from the laptop with his hands clasped over his mouth. He breathed. He giggled. Then he burst into obnoxious, high-pitched laughter.

"Jesus. Fucking. Christ," he gasped.

"Shut up!"

"Does Violet know about this?"

"I played this before I dated Violet," Jade said, shutting the laptop screen just as the cartoon man lifted his red-filled wine glass. "Not that it matters. It's just a game."

"Yeah, sorry, but," Caz took a breath and wiped his eyes. "It's just funny whenever someone has a thing for vampires. Like, come on, Shaw. You know we're objectively terrible to date."

Jade cradled her head in her hands.

"It wasn't about him being a vampire," she said.

Caz leaned back against her kitchen table. Her cats had wandered over and were sniffing him curiously.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Look, he was the only option that seemed — a little fruity, okay?" Jade said. "I just prefer guys who are also queer. You know how it's easier, sometimes, when someone else is bi?"

"Trust me, Shaw, I'm well aware of that," Caz said.

He opened the laptop and stared at the screen.

"Yeah, I've definitely gone home with that guy," he said.

He shut the laptop and backed away from the table.

"Well, this has been — weird," he said. "I'll, uh, see you when I have to kill someone again, I guess."

"Wait, I thought you wanted to play this?" Jade asked.

"Yeah, that type AB I had earlier isn't sitting right," he said, patting his stomach. "Trust me, it's not gonna be pretty."

He nearly tripped over Ada and Lovelace as he grabbed his hat and jacket.

"Do you need a ride?" Jade asked.

"Nah, I'll just grow wings and fly," Caz said. "Or just — run really fast. Yeah. Used to do that all the time. Before cameras, but — yeah, it'll be fine."

The entire trailer shook as he slammed the door behind him.

~

Caz fell through the door of his apartment. He loosened his collar and took another deep breath. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.

"It's fine," he said, taking his phone out to send a text. "I'll be fine. Just need to get this out of my system."

"We really need to stop meeting like this."

Caz whirled around to find the tiny Norse god he'd run into at the bar standing in his living room.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

"I ripped a hole in time and space, dear," Loki flipped a frizzy strand of red hair out of their face and flashed that oddly scarred smile. "Now, what's the matter?"

Caz reached in his cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vodka and two glasses.

"Just needed some meaningless sex, is all."

Loki clasped their chest dramatically.

"My dear, sweet draugr, I have a wives and family!"

"Vampire, not a draugr," Caz said. "And you're polyamorous."

"Yes, but you're not," Loki said. They strolled up to his kitchen counter and swiped one of the glasses. "We both know you're far too possessive to keep dating a married god. Now, what's actually wrong?"

Caz took a long swallow of vodka.

"I just got this image in my head of my best friend and work associate pegging me," he said. "And it all started because we tried playing this computer game. One where you have to pick someone to date."

"What were the options?" Loki asked.

Caz told them. Loki tapped a set of painted nails to their chin.

"Well, that's an obvious choice," they said. "Old man, of course."

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 08x01 We Need to Talk about Kevin

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 08x01 We Need to Talk about Kevin

“Do we really need to talk about Kevin?

🎶secret Kevin man🎶

“Asian Kevin” “that’s some x-files shit right there” “He has a girl in his tent. What’s up with that?” “what the fuck” “blood splatter everywhere still has good hair” “Does this go on the bullet list of how to be a good man? Always have good hair?” “and be well moisturized” “what the fuck is happening?” “what.the.fuck is going on here” “Yeah because that’ll heal easy” “Why is he dumping the blood all over the pelvis?” “Ok. Mr. Texas” “Kermit the 𓆏” “that’s sam Winchester” “who the fuck is that?” “I’m confused. Is she a demon?”

The demon storyline is over “PeePee, I’m not very good at this” “Winterfish? Whittling fish? You can whittle a fish on a stick or you can fish whittle sticks” “what the fuck” and laughter

Laughter

“What the fuck” “the ritual is baked in at this point” “oh shit. How long was he down there?” 🎶it’s a dick in a box🎶exploding dick in a box🎶

Laughter “that’s not funny” “Who is Sam talking about?” “You don’t know who Sasha Grey is?” “So they both just made a joke about a porn star? That’s why I laughed” “Little extra grizzled from purgatory?” i like the purgatory plot line

“Last season was ok, I guess. The ending felt anticlimactic” “Wow. He really sent this guy out for a piss” “6 months, eh?” “phone lines aren’t free. Did he pay for a phone he didn’t use for 6 months? Or did he just steal the phones?” “oh yeah just zoom and enhance” I don’t think there is a college in Centerville, MI

“Wasn’t she headed to like Yale or something?” “yeah fuck dogs” “hot take”

“I can relate” “I don’t trust most people’s dogs, though. Maybe I hate the owners more. Maybe it’s not the dogs’ faults” “colonial man” “that was very rubbery” “That’s not good” “Jesus fkn Christ” 🎶scowling at the world🎶

“He’s always thinking” “I can relate. It’s impossible to shut your brain off” “I feel like Sam should be more surprised to see Dean back. This is #2 back, right? He’s just mad now. Aw fuck, my brother died twice so I’m angry” “Just one of the many things I don’t like about sam” “Is this a bros before hoes moment?” “that whole room matches minus the carpet. The carpet does not match the drapes” “Be fair I haven’t seen any drapes yet” “What did Don ever do to Dean’s joints?” “lacing the drugs?” “I feel like he’s been there a year and hasn’t had one of these conversations already? And this guy is saying you can’t trust anyone?” “So Adderall puts you on a mission from god? IS that what I just heard?” “that’s a weird thing to say” “what the fuck” “looks like a ferrofluid” “which one are you staring at bud?” “the fuck?” Sam hit a dog and met a girl while Dean was making friends with vampires and fighting in purgatory

“I feel the same way” “That’s the face I’m going to give you next time I have a burger” “Didn’t he spin around the laptop already?” “oh he turned it back” “that doesn’t look like that good of a burger. Like a college campus burger” He hasn’t eaten much in the last year 

“That’s true” “Why wouldn’t he be at a church? He’s a prophet of the lord” “He could have been dead for 6 months already” “It’s been 6 months since your last confession” laughter

“Is Kevin Tran a dark version of Ash Ketchum? Crowley’s the old man you see in every room, because the old man tells you what skill to remember, and you remember the skill” “It can’t be what - a couple paragraphs” “some shithole in Wisconsin” I mean there’s a lot of open space in Wisconsin. Farm land and stuff” “fkn goat” “because he’s the greatest demon of all time” “Man this show could have really gone a different direction” “Yup” 🎶fuck you sam🎶

“His hair is extra fucked this season, too” “This is the weirdest shit ever. All the candles are lit. We’re in some old ass church” “What the fuck did I just miss?” It was a bad joke

“Is that why I don’t understand it?” “This is not the lesson you want to teach kids” “Yup” “Could have just said that with your eyes” Did you get the blowjob joke? “No, I didn’t get it” “Sounds like locker room talk to me” “oh shit. Speaking of locker room talk” “they don’t have any leverage, to be fair” laughter

“That was rather emasculating” “Why find another one?” “oh. Well shit. Fuck you Crowley” “The head doesn’t like being hit” It’s a Marine phrase

“I guess John was a marine” What did you have to do down there, Dean? “Did this guy play another character in the show?” Yes, he was actually a vampire in an early season

[mamamittens]

PAUSE ON THE WRITING JESUS CHRIST!!!

Turned on my laptop to get to work and had a moment of concern.

I noticed my laptop frame was expanding and I kept needing to like, squeeze it shut and decided to crack it open and look. It's second hand from my workplace so I figured maybe it wasn't assembled well???

WELP I FIGURED IT OUT

BATTERY IS INFLATING AND OUT OF CONCERN FOR MY LAP AND DOCUMENTS I WONT WRITE UNTIL THE REPLACEMENT COMES IN 😬😬😬

(Cherry is pretending like she doesn't want to eat the screws lol)

So uh... Sorry guys. Good news is that it's an easy fix. Bad news is that I have a hard time writing long form on my phone so chapters will be delayed still.

[amerrierworld]

brain.

I chewed the end of my pencil’s eraser, the flavour off-putting but not unwelcome. Looking at my pile of drafts and blurb prompts, the brief inkling of my motivation that I had earlier seemed to be slipping away.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if I became obsessed with something new again, quickly,” I grumbled, abusing the delete button on my keyboard as I rewrote a sentence again.

“What’s wrong with the things you’re currently obsessed with?” A low chuckle came from the other side of the room. Lou stepped through the doorway and to the side of my desk, planting reassuring hands on my shoulders. “Just write another steamy fic about me... You’ve got plenty already.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to just write about you, no matter how much I love writing about you,” I look up at her and she tuts, stealing the pencil from my mouth. “I have to keep up with different things!”

“Well, you keep promising them you’ll write more about us,” Hela grumbled from the couch in the back of the room, pointing between her and Alcina, who was hunched over uncomfortably in the small office space. “How many parts does Babysitter still need to finish the story, hm?”

“Don’t start,” I groaned, hiding my face with my hands.

“And Songbird was supposed to be just three parts, right? Now what, you’ve given yourself about ten total? You think you’ll have the stamina for that?” The Countess added.

“You’re not helping! Any of you!” I snapped, closing my laptop and getting up. “I need a drink.”

“I hope it’s one of my brands,” Alcina commented. “You know they’re the best.”

“I don’t drink blood-wine, Alci.” 

Lou, trusty Lou, followed me around the elaborate palace of writing I had constructed for myself, flicking through a notebook of drafts and characters from my recent writings. 

“You really stuck around with this, didn’t you?” She gestured to the pages of scribbles.

“What?” I asked, grabbing a glass from the cabinet in the kitchen. 

“Me, Debs, Hela, Carol, Alci, basically everything Cate Blanchett played and then some.”

“Oh, shut up,” I growled. “I wrote about some other characters too you know!”

“Yeah, years ago,” Thorin muttered, sitting at the kitchen island next to Obi-Wan. “We both barely got any mention. Fili’s story took years to finish, didn't it?”

“Boys, I promise I still love all of you. It’s just that the women characters have been more on my mind recently.”

“Well, you haven’t written about all of Cate’s characters,” Valka muttered, and Bernadette nodded. “When are you gonna invite Lydia in?”

“When I have the stamina to even begin thinking about such a complex character! I could barely write one fic about Lilith as it is!”

“Oh, sorry, we’re not complex enough for ya!” Karl snarled, chugging back my entire last bottle of wine. “This is shit, by the way.”

“Hey! That was my last bottle.”

“This is your dream, just think up another,” he scoffed, chucking the bottle into the sink.

“Just pick something! Anything will work, and to be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t written about me yet,” Legolas sat perched on one of the tables, fiddling with the ends of one of his arrows. “There’s loads in Fellowship you could write on.”

“Jesus Christ, where’d you come from? And no, I can’t just pick something! I need a good explanation for my insane hiatus... again!”

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” Bernadette replied. “The loyal fans will understand.”

“Don’t call them fans,” I muttered. “I feel weird thinking that people out there actually enjoy my writing.”

“Besides,” she kept going, “You’ve been coming and going as you please anyways since the start! Isn’t that indicative enough that you can take all the time you need if you need it?”

“Doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty though!” I sighed. “I feel like I owe my writing another piece. Something good. But that’s scary, because what the hell is supposed to be good? And what if no one reads it? It’s not even a ground-breaking novel, it’s just silly little paragraphs about characters that aren’t even mine.”

“So what?” Lou crossed her arms, leaning against the doorway -- her best place to pose. “You like writing it, so write it. Doesn’t matter if people read it. You don’t even have to post it, if you don’t want.”

Galadriel walked in beside her, hands deftly clasped in front of her. “There’s plenty to write about, meleth-nin. You’ll find something. If it’s not a fic like this, maybe something else. And if something is unfinished, let it be. That’s what the process is for.”

I opened the kitchen cabinet, and sure enough, there was another bottle of wine. But, instead, I reached for the apple juice next to it. It was nice and cold, despite not being in the fridge. God, I loved imagining things. 

“I could write more smut -- people like reading it, and it’s fun to write,” I shrugged after chugging half a glass. “But what if I should try something more? Maybe a couple parts to a story, like in dreams, but just stop it after a few, and not force myself to think of it as a massive novel with endless chapters? That’s what happened with Babysitter... I had a fantastic idea and now I’m scared to take it somewhere.”

“Maybe one day you’ll finish the big ones,” Obi-Wan mused, stroking his beard from the table. “You could always try a different series that you’ve already seen, watched, and loved. Maybe that’ll get the ball rolling. There’s lots more to Star Wars than just me.”

“I know, but I love you,” I pouted. “And Star Wars is massive!”

“So is Tolkien,” Thorin shrugged. “You’ve written about us plenty.”

“Could’ve written about me,” Loki grinned. “You basically did, of course, but you made me more the side-character. I think I would do really well as the protagonist--”

“Maybe take the time to watch new stuff, you know, the things you keep saying you’ll get into, but then don't?” Debbie suggested, pulling out a massive list of my to-be-watched and to-be-read. I pouted again, I wanted to, but had no idea where to start.

They had all entered the dining room now, Alci sitting on the floor to make room for her head. And they all looked at me expectantly. There was a typewriter on the table.

“Oh, no, absolutely not. I’m not writing something while you’re all sitting here watching me.”

“Well, what’ll it be then?” Hela countered. “You’re gonna finish this fic and be done for the day -- or should I say, year?”

“I don’t know what to write about!”

“Write about this,” Bernadette said, gesturing wildly around the room. “And then maybe something new will happen after.”

“You know, this is definitely a fever dream,” I grumbled. “I could never look a so many of Cate Blanchett’s characters at once and be able to form complete sentences.”

Three peculiar flies landed around the typewriter, buzzing haphazardly. Alcina shooed them away and the three daughters materialized, hanging from the chandelier.

“If you break that, you’ll pay for it!” I warned.

“If we break it, that means you made us break it!” Cassandra cackled. “Can’t win, sweetie. Not even in your own daydreams.”

“No, I suppose not,” I slumped in the chair and looked at the blank page. “Writing fic isn’t meant to feel like a chore, right?”

“Don’t ask us, we’re not writers,” Karl grumbled, sitting at a plate of hot food piled high. 

“Where did that come from?” I gaped. He wagged a finger in the air in thought while chewing a massive piece of steak.

“Hmn, I think... you might be hungry. Best get some fuel when you wake up.”

“But first,” Carol said softly, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Write something. Anything. Any word.”

I thought for a moment, the clock in the hall ticking loudly. Fuck it.

brain.