#We can’t get hot dog unfortunately

[ancient-string]

today I am going to watch A Baseball for the very first time!!!

[beautifulpaprika]

A Beast and a Bracelet (m)

pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!

summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.

word count: 8.7k

Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me. 

“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me. 

The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest. 

I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running. 

“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time. 

I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult. 

There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind. 

“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision. 

One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny. 

I stick close to the wall, unmoving.

Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave. 

“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.

My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself. 

The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there. 

Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men. 

The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it. 

The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me. 

A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face. 

I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature. 

Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog. 

“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me. 

However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.

I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear. 

There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces. 

Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. 

“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me. 

A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness. 

“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again. 

My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock. 

“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles. 

“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“

”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head. 

“I’m grateful,” my voice is low. 

“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it. 

That’s it? 

He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.

I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out. 

The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me. 

“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name. 

My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened? 

“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess. 

I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me. 

His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes. 

“What are you doing?”

”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat. 

I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face. 

“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me. 

I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me. 

We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily. 

“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains. 

I throw the hand and toe on the spot. 

“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave. 

He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave. 

“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.

“It's been a few years. . .” 

The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years? 

“Did you run away from home?” 

“Something like that,” he shrugs. 

I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.

“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers. 

He freezes at the question. 

“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water. 

I notice something glistening and take a step towards it. 

But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides. 

“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.

I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.

He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax. 

“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot. 

“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body. 

“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world. 

He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question. 

“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him. 

“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is. 

“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot. 

“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs. 

“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a  low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid. 

“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home. 

“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave. 

“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call. 

“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark. 

***

I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?

It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose. 

A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt. 

“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word. 

“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me. 

I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas. 

“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin. 

“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie. 

“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks. 

I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us. 

“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”

“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out. 

“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me. 

His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.

“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words. 

“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot. 

He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.

I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.

“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway. 

He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground. 

“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask. 

“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does. 

I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave. 

“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper. 

“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname. 

“Why do you call me that?”

“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through. 

“It wasn’t that obvi-”

“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me. 

“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating. 

“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone. 

He steps down, slowly, into the water.  

I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything. 

I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water. 

“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls. 

“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.

“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position. 

“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water. 

He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire. 

“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture. 

His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes. 

“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in. 

The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface. 

My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger? 

“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”

“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly. 

Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me. 

“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him. 

I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars. 

I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me. 

“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit. 

“About?”

“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him. 

“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look. 

“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?” 

He turns in genuine interest. 

“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers. 

He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it. 

“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”

“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt. 

His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar. 

I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me. 

I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work. 

“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.

“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly. 

“What exactly do you turn into?” 

“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.” 

“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness. 

He nods in answer. 

“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question. 

“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash. 

“What was your motivation?” 

He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still. 

“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.

***

The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father. 

Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in. 

A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it. 

After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to. 

I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is. 

“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him. 

“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him. 

“What do you have behind you?”

“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually. 

“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.

He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him. 

“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave. 

“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces. 

They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here. 

Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?

“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn. 

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in. 

“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.

“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same. 

His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out. 

Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest. 

I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special. 

A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t. 

The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos. 

My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone. 

A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.

Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave. 

The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.

 I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men- 

Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment. 

Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear. 

His groan is quiet behind me. 

“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching. 

“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying. 

My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes. 

“I’m not letting you die.” 

***

Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown. 

“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.” 

As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast. 

“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.

I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.

***

It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish. 

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing. 

“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests. 

“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet. 

It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago. 

***

11 years ago

“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does. 

I can’t watch this anymore. 

“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground. 

“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out. 

“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now. 

“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs. 

“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay. 

The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?

We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange. 

He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest. 

We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.

“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those. 

His hands work and kneed in the grass and  grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?

A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand. 

“For me?” I ask and he nods his head. 

“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,”  my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice. 

“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.

His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!

***

“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me. 

“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations. 

I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.

“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face. 

“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.

“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”

“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs. 

“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains. 

My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.  

“You should have told me. . .” 

“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”

Tears start to well up again. 

“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach. 

“If you’re lying-”

“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.” 

My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me. 

“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”

“Can I be honest?”

“I’d like it if you were.”

“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.” 

“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly. 

Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say. 

“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-” 

His soft lips interrupt me - finally! 

A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva. 

His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core. 

We separate, breathing into each other. 

“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now. 

“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer. 

“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him. 

The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.

The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples. 

“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now. 

“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down. 

I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel. 

“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him. 

“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back. 

He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching. 

“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin. 

“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”

I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand. 

I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way. 

“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too. 

His eyes fall to my pants. 

“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow. 

His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up. 

“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction. 

My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”

I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!” 

“Then what was that look?” 

“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct. 

A small smile appears on his face. 

“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt. 

His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in. 

When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure. 

Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way. 

His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down. 

“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.” 

“Jungkook, pelase -” 

He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me. 

“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”

I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me. 

“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck. 

It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there. 

“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same. 

I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me. 

“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head. 

“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”

“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids. 

“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek. 

“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow. 

[zorobff]

dress up. (toji fushiguro x f!reader)

synopsis: in an attempt to make some memories, you come up with the idea of a family costume for this year’s halloween. toji and megumi might need a little convincing, though…

a/n: first fic in like a year and first time writing for my babygirl toji :3

word count: 1.1k

toji carelessly lets himself fall next to you, his sheer body weight causing the couch to jolt slightly. he nods at your phone. “whatcha looking at?”

“just some costumes. halloween’s coming up and—”

a smile creeps up on toji’s face before you can get another word out. “you shoulda asked me first, baby. i got a few good ideas. patient and nurse could work, i love a woman in uniform—my woman in uniform. cop and prisoner, too. would give us a good excuse to finally buy some handcuffs.” he winks.

“sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while,” you tease. “but unfortunately, none of those are gonna work.”

toji’s face falls ever so slightly and you have to hold back a laugh at seeing a grown man pout.

“had you let me finish, you’d know i want to do a family costume.”

“baby, c’mon,” he groans, rubbing his face. “i never go all out f’ halloween, you know that.”

you arch a brow. “you seemed eager a few seconds ago.”

he huffs. “that was different.”

“mhm, sure,” you reply, sarcastically. “i don’t mind suggestions, just a little more family friendly and less… porn-y.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he deadpans.

you smack his bicep. “save the roleplaying for later. i mean, just look at how cute these are.”

you hand him your phone and he reluctantly takes it. he’s seen this app before; pinterest, he believes it’s called. his eyes roam over the page for a moment, seeing various families of three dressed in an array of costumes. rock, paper and scissors. ketchup, mustard and a hot dog. fork, knife, and spoon.

he hands you back your phone when he decides he’s seen enough. “baby, those are humiliating.”

“no they’re not! they’re fun.” you snatch the device back, furiously scrolling. “besides, we’re making memories for megumi to look back on when he’s older.”

“have you met the little twerp? he’s practically a 70 year old man in the body of a second grader.” toji shakes his head with a smile. “you sure he’d even wanna do this?”

“we should at least ask him. then he can’t say we never tried.”

toji’s eyes soften; you really were giving this your all. your dedication to making megumi’s childhood a happy and healthy one was something that tugged at his heart strings; especially since toji had never received that kind of affection in his youth. and yet, here was a beautiful woman he was privileged to call his wife trying her best to break that generational curse. he truly was a lucky man.

“megumi!” shouts toji, suddenly determined to make this family costume work. “get in here!”

megumi’s little voice comes back muffled from his upstairs bedroom. “wait, i’m almost done with this level!”

“tch, he’s glued to that damn thing. what’s it called? a switch?” toji shakes his head and mumbles, “should’ve never let you buy it f’ him.”

“don’t be jealous,” you tease. “if you’re good, i’ll get you one for christmas too.”

toji smirks. “actually, i wanted to ask for a special gift this year.”

“oh yeah? what’s that?”

“y’know how megumi’s been askin’ for a sibling—”

you shove his shoulder and he laughs.

toji takes that as his cue to leave and talk to megumi, standing from the couch with an exaggerated groan. (you always made fun of him for it, claiming that it was such an old man thing to do. he always refuted that you knew what you were getting into when you married someone his age.)

he heads upstairs, delivering a firm knock when he reaches megumi’s door. “get out here, kiddo. need to talk to ya real quick.”

he hears a groan then the shuffling of feet. the door swings open and there stands his son, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. clearly, he wasn’t thrilled about having to pause his game.

“sheesh, kid,” toji huffs. “don’t make that face, starting to look like your old man.”

“what is it, dad?” he sighs in exasperation.

“we’re dressing up for halloween this year. as a family.”

that catches the eight year old off guard. “what? why?”

“for the memories or somethin’.”

“i don’t really wanna…” megumi trails off.

toji scratches the back of his head. “i hear ya. but it’ll make your mom real happy so we’re doin’ it.”

megumi purses his lips. “what’s the costume?”

“i dunno. we can’t seem t’ decide. got any ideas?”

“hmmm… i kinda wanted to be michael meyers this year.”

“it’s a group costume, megumi, ya can’t just— hang on, michael meyers? how the hell do you know about him?”

megumi shrugs as if he doesn’t see the issue. “i saw the movie at uncle shiu’s house once.”

toji makes a mental note to never shiu babysit megumi again. or at the very least, go over what movies a second grader is allowed to watch.

toji clears his throat. “well, forget you ever saw it. and don’t tell your mother, got it?”

megumi nods.

“good. erm… any other ideas?”

there’s a silence between the two.

“c’mon, kid, think of something. if not, your mom’s gonna make us dress up as condiments or silverware or somethin’ stupid.”

megumi groans, clearly fed up with the conversation. “can i just go back to playing super mario bros?”

it’s as if a lightbulb goes off in toji’s mind. “you like those guys?”

megumi nods slowly. “yeah… why?”

“you wanna be one of ‘em for halloween?”

megumi’s face lights up. “really? can i be luigi?”

toji grins, satisfied with his reaction. “don’t see why not.”

“cool! does that mean you’ll be mario?”

his dad chuckles. “guess so.”

“ooh and mom could be princess peach!”

“that’s the, uh… pink one, right?”

megumi giggles at his father’s obliviousness, nodding.

“works out then. i’ll go tell your mama.” he ruffles his son’s tar black hair. “thanks, megs. gonna make her day.”

megumi flashes a toothy grin then retreats back into his room.

when toji returns to the living room with a smug smile and pep in his step, you take notice.

“what’s with you?” you inquire.

“oh, nothin’. just got megumi to agree on a family costume, that’s all.”

you eye your husband with interest. “oh really?”

“you’re welcome, princess. speaking of which, you’re gonna need a pink dress and crown.”

“well, now i’m really curious.”

“you know that little game he likes? the one with the plumber brothers—” before he can even finish, you shoot up from your comfortable position.

“how didn’t i think of that sooner? it’s perfect!”

“megs seemed pretty excited about it too. knew exactly which character he wanted to be and everythin’.”

you nearly melt. “that’s all what i wanted. i’ll order the costumes right away.” you lean over to pepper his face in kisses. “thank you so much, toji.”

he grunts, though he’s smiling so hard his scar tilts upwards. “yeah, yeah. how about you thank me with that christmas present i was talkin’ about earlier?”

you pull away from him and grin. “nice try.”

[larcenywrites]

any headcanons about what dating logan/wolverine might be like? 👀

I can try 😮‍💨 just like with sabretooth, I worry I can’t properly capture him… but we can always dabble around with ideas!

Wolverine x Reader

Warnings: definitely has nsfw | one line does refer to reader being AFAB |

🍺 Sigh… the real question is, how are you going to get in a relationship with this man 😒

🍺 Never mind whether he’s still pining after Jean or not, the guy just refuses to commit 🙄 doesn’t matter if you’ve fucked or not.

🍺 But let’s skip that whole dramatic montage and say you did manage to finally tie him down just a little 🤏

🍺 It’s not like Logan doesn’t have fun or smile or know how to love! But when it comes to an actual bona fide relationship… it’s just harder to comfortably do those things. He’s lived a long time, been through nearly every type of trauma, hates himself for what he is half the time, and, while it hides well behind all that attitude, he’s afraid of a lot of things— from himself to the world.

🍺 So it makes it hard for him to love like that. Feelings are kinda hard for him to talk about 😔 at least, at first. Later on it gets easier, and while his tone may still be soft and gruff and he might sound reserved, but he won’t shy away from any sweet pillow talk anymore 🥺 though… any specific topics pertaining to a future… he’s probably a little more eager to switch to something else 😣

🍺 He’ll definitely be all growly if you start playing with his hair 😤 believe it or not, he’s a little particular about his grooming, and still a little funny about being unexpectedly touched at times— even by his partner.

🍺 But perhaps the real show of love here is the fact that he still won’t stop you 🥲

🍺 Usually the free time he has is spent fucking shit up in the danger room or drinking at his favorite spot, but he will actually take you on dates that don’t involve either! (But let’s be honest, it’s kinda hot to watch him tear shit up sometimes 😏)

🍺 It’s canon that Logan enjoys some broadway musicals! And while it’s not its favorite thing to have to do, he can dress up quite nice 😘

🍺 Actually a horndog 😮‍💨 For a guy that’s always going on about controlling his raging animal or whatever, he sure doesn’t have much control when his sexual partner even looks at him the wrong way 🙄 Maybe it’s all the energy he can never quite get out, or maybe it’s because he goes without for a while at a time, but definitely don’t be surprised when, upon finally getting to share his bed, you don’t get very much sleep 😘

🍺 Unfortunately(?) the dude can smell horniness, which will get him going no matter what his current situation is 🤭

🍺 I know this man eats pussy like nobody’s business 🥴 literally pouncing on you 🥴 maybe a rather hard bite to your thigh before just literally diving in, but otherwise probably won’t do much foreplay, especially nothing all loving and sweet.

🍺 Surprisingly a cuddler? But not, like, when you do it :/ a selective cuddler, we’ll call him. He’ll roll over and trap you in a bear hug 🥰 but no matter if you are taller or shorter than him, he’s gonna be face planted in your shoulder blades

🍺 one of those people that will not be little spoon 😒😒😒😒😒 you might get away with it if you catch him already in bed and you just crawl on top of him and wrap around him 🤭

🍺 but he’s definitely a sucker for having you lie on his chest 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he’ll probably sigh as if you’re bothering him, but it’s kinda like that thing dogs do when they get comfy and sigh loudly 🥰

🍺 it’s counterintuitive, but tbh the more you shower him with love the more he low key hates himself… but he still definitely enjoys it! He actually does love to be loved! A little shy about it, though.

🍺 don’t be afraid to kiss his hand right where his claws come out 😘

🍺 not necessarily jealous as much as he is protective…

🍺 well, he does get a little possessive…

🍺 sometimes might be petty af if you try to come into bed smelling like someone who’s pissed him off that day (many people piss him off every day)

🍺 like it’s not your fault you were in the same general area as Cyclops for longer than ten minutes and Wolfie over here can smell that 😒

🍺 When he’s done throwing his pity party, though, you get way-too-tight cuddles though so it’s a win? How else are you supposed to smell like him again?

[captainmalewriter]

Stolen Jockstrap

Adam laid in bed with his nose firmly pressed against a white jockstrap he had stolen from the men’s locker room at the gym. The smell of sweat still lingered in the unwashed cloth. Adam’s audible sniffs filled the bedroom as he indulged in the scent. His hands pawed at his growing member in his sweatpants as he pushed the used jockstrap against his face. Having been raised to never touch what didn’t belong to him, Adam was extremely hesitant to steal the jockstrap from the locker room. But as Adam grew harder and more aroused with every sniff, he was very glad he snatched it. 

“God this smells sooo fucking good!” Adam moaned. While Adam was initially content with just sniffing the used jockstrap and rubbing one out, he got the sudden idea to put it on. Actually wearing the jockstrap never crossed Adam’s mind. While he was originally against the idea, Adam felt an inexplicable urge to put it on as he massaged his cock through his sweats. 

“I’ll just wear it for a little bit…” Adam whispered to himself as he slowly stripped down. His erect dick sprang up as he took off his pants and underwear. He then lifted his leg up and through the hole of the jockstrap. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the strap up until the cloth cup rested on his groin.

“Damn… This feels so good!” The jockstrap felt cool against Adam’s smooth skin. Being as scrawny as he was, the jockstrap was unfortunately too big for him. It hung loosely over his junk, clearly a size or two too big for him. Wearing a stolen jockstrap was hot in theory, but an oversized strap only killed Adam’s boner once he tried it on. Plus, he was never going to be able to smell the original owner’s cock musk if he was wearing it. 

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Time to continue the real fun.” 

Adam’s hands reached for the elastic waistband sitting on his waist, ready to take it off. However, Adam found he couldn’t pull it down no matter how hard he tried. It was like the jockstrap itself was refusing to come off!

“Huh!? What’s going on? Get off me!!” Aw c’mon Adam, you can’t take me off now! It’s like you said, the real fun’s just getting started!

Adam jolted. He recognized that voice. It was the voice of the guy who owned the white jockstrap. Adam frantically looked around the room but there was no sign of him anywhere. He was completely alone in the room. Then, once a disturbing realization hit him, Adam peered down at the jockstrap. Without Adam’s command, his dick twitched underneath the fabric when he looked at it.

“No… Don’t tell me you’re in the jockstrap… You can’t be serious!!”

That’s right fucker! You stole my clothes, so I’m stealing your body! I think that’s only fair, right?

Adam felt a sudden sharp pain on the tip of his dick. It felt like something was trying to enter the slit of his dick. It was overwhelming. He tried curling up to protect himself. 

Uh uh uh! I don’t think so! Open up those legs for Daddy!!

Without his command, Adam’s legs swung back open. He laid with his arms and legs fully spread like a starfish. Once he was wide open, he felt the owner’s essence slide down the length of his erect member, causing his cock and balls to throb and swell as they grew to accommodate an unexpected guest. 

Alright, I’m in! Get ready Adam!! If you wanna wear my clothes, then you gotta look the part too! Here we goooo!!

Adam felt an otherworldly presence growing inside his body. It filled his fingers, his toes, even his face! Every inch of Adam’s body grew warmer as hair began growing all over his once smooth, thin body. His torso inflated with muscle mass until he had two heavy pecs covered in hair resting on his chest with abs to match too. Adam groaned in pain as his shoulders stretched outwards. He was panting like a dog as his shoulder muscles shifted and contracted until he had the rugged shoulder span of a college linebacker. 

His legs were no exception to the transformation either. Adam’s thighs became drenched in sweat as the spirit possessing him forced the muscles to grow rapidly. His flat ass filled in with mass until he had the nice, firm bubble butt of a man who never skipped leg day. The elastic waistband of the jockstrap strained to keep up with Adam’s transformation. It used to fit him too big, but now it fit justtt right as Adam’s legs became well-defined and toned with muscle. 

All the while Adam’s cock throbbed and pulsed against the jockstrap as blood rushed throughout Adam’s body. His 5 inch pecker grew and swelled under the spirit’s command, making his five incher a hefty 7.5 rod with girth and hair to boot. The warm, stretching sensations Adam was experiencing in his body was a pleasure unlike any he’s ever had. It left him practically begging for release from all the building tension in his body. Once his body transformation was finished, loads of warm spunk came flowing out of his dick and into the jockstrap.

“Ahhhhhh FUCK yeahhhh!!!” Adam, now under the control of the jockstrap’s original owner, let out a deep, bellowing moan that shook the walls of his bedroom. His new, hung cock was twitching as it finished pumping out loads. The new, musclebound Adam smirked as he looked down at his newly possessed body. 

“You like what you see, Adam?” the owner teased. He could still feel and hear Adam’s consciousness somewhere in the back of his mind. “Too bad you can’t enjoy these muscles with me. If only you didn’t steal my shit, then maybe you wouldn’t be trapped inside your own mind right now, such a shame! Oh well… I guess I’ll just have to have fun for you!”

“Adam” hopped off his bed and took a quick selfie before he went out for a night of fun and fucking as revenge against his thief, all while the original Adam was powerless to stop him.

[pommpuriinn]

Mine mysterious Boyfriend

ੈ✩ synopsis - y/n is a very successful influencer who is known for producing aesthetically pleasing vlogs about her travels, normal day to day life, going to restaurants to taste test food. But even though she gets millions of viewers on a daily basis, her most popular videos are of her sitting down and explaining the latest drama to her never before seen boyfriend. Her viewers are so curious on how he looks since they've been together for a couple of years and y/n has always blurred or added a cute hand drawn character of a white dog with dark eye bags to cover his face whenever he gets in frame. That is until a trip to Japan where the couple was peacefully vlogging by a little tanghulu stand, and a streamer was filming not that far from the couple and caught them in 4K. Revealing y/n’s boyfriend to the world.

ੈ✩ pairing - soobin x fem!reader

ੈ✩ a/n - hey…𓏗-𓏗 it’s been a while since my last post and again sorry. I have been working and trying to get my bag. A little life update: I met katseye during their first fan event which was CRAZYt they are so pretty in person, then I went to see the txt vr movie seeing them so close was freaking me out while also kicking my feet (and yes I’m seeing it a second time I’m delulu). I want to start writing little scenarios of the members instead of full stories. Maybe it will help me write more and get more creative. Inspired by my girl Stephanie Soo and her husband (I love them!)

Y/n Rose started her channel 3 years ago and it instantly blew up because of her aesthetic style and people loved how relatable and humble she was with her new found fame through social media. Lots of people talk about how y/n is a loser stuck in a hot person’s body because of her clumsy self and does little stupid things that people find funny and cute. Her viewers didn’t just get invested into her very entertaining content, but because of y/n’s mysterious boyfriend. Who goes by Soob or Binie and sometimes toki which means ‘bunny’ in Korean. Reddit fans tried their hardest to try to find any photos of her boyfriend through her old post, but unfortunately nothing was found besides him being Korean because of the toki nickname and in videos he’s teaching y/n Korean.

Fans are so desperate to see his face since they know he has to be fine to be able to bag someone as beautiful as y/n, plus he literally has people post edits on tiktok of his hands because his hands are just that attractive to many. Luckily y/n’s fans are respectful and don’t push y/n for information even fans that meet y/n in person don’t sneak pictures of him and don’t answer people’s questions about him.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

Currently the two are flying back to Japan since it’s literally their favorite place to visit since it has everything they’re obsessed with like; anime, Nintendo store, and really good food. Y/n filmed a little montage of herself playing on her deco rog ally (a handheld console almost like a switch) then of her putting on skincare along with a face mask. Until tragedy struck because Soob took off his glasses and placed them on his seat before going to the restroom to wash his face, as he wanted to do his skincare with y/n and once he came back Soob completely forgot he placed his glasses down and sat on them.

The two gasped at the crack sound that came from his butt. “No you did not.” Y/n tried covering her laugh with placing a hand over her mouth, while looking at Soob and back at the camera. Soob slowly reached down and took a pair of now flimsy glasses causing the couple to silently laugh. Y/n accidentally hit her little table so hard that her camera fell off since it was placed at the edge. With Soob’s quick reaction he was able to catch the camera mid air, “y/n-ah!” He whispered yelled. “We can’t already start breaking things before we even make it to Japan.” Soob adjusted the camera in a better angle while y/n hid her face in her (Soob’s) hoodie trying not to be too loud.

After calming down y/n wiped her tears from laughing so much. “Show them your glasses binie.” Soob then held his glasses out like those people who review makeup products, with his hand behind the glasses so the camera can focus on the damage. “Mind you this is the second time this has happened. Where he sets his glasses on the chair goes do something then comes back and his ass does all the damage.” Soob breaks into a laugh. “Sorry that my ass is pretty strong.”

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

Y/n gave a quick room tour of the big hotel room that has an amazing view of Tokyo with the help of her very cute boyfriend who is a great camera man. As y/n was talking she couldn’t help but look at how her toki was giving her heart eyes making y/n lose focus on what she was trying to say. “Stop looking at me like that!” He instantly smiled and continued to tease her. “Like what?”

Fans definitely screen recorded the clip and started making edits quickly. The two finished unpacking and were supposed to start getting ready to adventure outside, but y/n saw that Soob looked so comfortable laying on the bed that she just had to try the bed too. As y/n was now laying down next for Soob explaining their plans to the camera, he instantly got a wave of sleepiness with the warmth of y/n by his side. He set an alarm on his phone which he placed next to him and started to snuggle into her. Y/n was unbothered Soob hugging her or being in frame because she would just edit a sleepy yongmeong sticker over his face.

“He’s making me sleepy~” y/n snicker while watching her toki sleep with his head resting on her shoulder through her viewfinder. It didn’t take long before y/n closed her eyes and started sleeping with the camera still filming. She ended up editing a little fast forward clip of the two sleeping before it cuts to them actually walking down a little street with of course Soob being her cameraman.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

“So we’re actually at a convenience store because someone got sleepy and then got me sleepy, so we ended up sleeping for a couple hours.” Y/n explained, while also swinging their connected hands back and forth happily. “Blame it on the jet lag because I’m so used to New York time.” Soob tries to justify himself. “I guess.” Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at him making Soob laugh. The couple were a few steps away from the convenience store before Soob cuts himself off, “oh! Should we show them your fit?” He backed away to give the camera a full shot of y/n’s outfit. “No, I look like Adam Sandler right now!” Y/n whined, hiding her face with her hands slightly embarrassed by just wearing Soob’s hoodie again with loose gray sweatpants with bows running all down on sides of her legs, paired with her cute decorated crocs. She was still giving a coquette feel to the fit.

“It’s giving Adam Sandler meets coquette vibes.” Soob jokes further leaving a pout on y/n’s lips. “I’m joking. You look very cute.” Soob gently pulls y/n by her hand into a hug comforting her. Cute little gestures like that instantly boosts y/n’s mood, she could never genuinely get mad at Soob. “Let’s show the viewers your OOTD.” Y/n makes sure to just film from the neck down. “Binie has his classic white button up, wide legged pants, basic white shoes, and to top it off his brown bag. It’s giving very boyfriend vibes 101, very demure, very cutesy, very mindful.” Y/n and Soob burst out laughing, getting stares from a couple of people, but they didn’t mind.

“Let’s go get your flavored ice.” Soob wrapped his arm our y/n’s shoulder guiding her in the convenience store. “Oh my god yes! Guys I have been seeing that mainly in Korea there’s this thing- I forgot what it’s called, but it’s for people who love to eat ice. It’s peach flavored ice!” y/n was so excited making Soob smile down at her still filming. “It’s also because she would see those Korean cheerleaders do the little dance and then sit back down to eat the ice.” Soob added. Y/n pulled away from Soob and started the iconic dance the cheerleaders do, making Soob laugh more.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

To no one’s surprise y/n loved the ice and literally finished it in 5 minutes. They got a lot of snacks before heading to their next stop which is a popular tanghulu stand. It was a pretty crowded place since there’s lots of stores all around plus it was the evening, the perfect time to hang out. They weren’t the only ones thinking the same because not far from them was a female streamer obviously streaming also eating tanghulu with her friend. “Guys this is so good!” Her eyes wided while munching on the solid sugar-covered strawberry. She wasn’t paying attention that her chat was freaking out about a certain couple that was being shown in the corner. “Huh? Why is everyone freaking out? Is there a celebrity around here?” Even her friend was confused looking around.

The female streamer was now closely reading the comments until a certain comment in all caps shocked her.

#1: OMG IT'S Y/N AND SOOB!! U JUST REVEALED HIS FACE

“You just revealed-no fucking way!” The poor streamer panicked because they were also big fans of them, but she just unintentionally did something bad. She knew how private y/n is when it comes to Soob to the point where even if Soob is showing something on his phone that y/n blurs the reflection of his face on his phone in videos. The streamer quickly ended her stream abruptly, “dude I have to go up to them and tell them.” She looked at her friend with a stressed expression. “I’m sure they will understand. We’ll go together, plus you didn’t mean to show Soob’s face like that.” Her friend had a point. So she took a deep breath and began walking up to them.

As the couple was just finishing their second sweet treat of the day the poor streamer interrupted them saying their thoughts to the camera. “Um…I’m sorry to interrupt, but hi I’m Alice I’m a streamer and I was streaming literally not long ago and…”, Alice was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know you guys were in the frame and many, many people saw Soob’s face. I’m so sorry.” Alice hated confrontation and was about to burst into tears with how their smiles instantly dropped. The couple looked at each other trying to feel words on what to say.

“Oh, um thank you for telling us instead of leaving us to find out online. Don’t feel sorry it wasn’t your fault plus we’re in public people are recording and taking pictures. Plus I know I could only do so much to try and protect Soob’s identity.” Y/n caressed Alice’s arm to try to make her feel better, clearly seeing her distressed face. “I can’t hide forever, and I again appreciate you telling us.” Alice was shocked at how they were taking this. ”And I’m assuming you're a fan since you know Soob and I.” Y/n wanted to lighten up the mood. “I am!” Alice bursted into tears. Making everyone laugh, as she got to free her emotions. “I loved you guys since the beginning and oh my god you are so handsome and she’s so pretty it’s insane! You are such a power couple and I love seeing Soob always helping you record and you always covering his face with yongmeong who is such a cute character!” Alice finally got to say what she always thought of saying if she ever got to meet them.

Both y/n and Soob’s heart was melting at the cute sight of Alice fangirling and expressing her love for them. They ended up taking pictures together and ensuring Alice that it’s okay and truly wasn’t her fault revealing Soob.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ���༚ ✧

It was trending everywhere the clip made it’s rounds and Y/n quickly addressed it before anyone would try to send hate to Alice, and Soob wanted to make a video with y/n after a couple of weeks finally actually revealing himself. He felt like it was inevitable for this to happen and it was bound to happen just not like this. With his decision to do this y/n was a bit opposed to doing this because she knows that Soob is a very private person. But she could tell Soob was already set on doing it.

“After lots of thinking I think it’s time to show the world the literal love of my life.” Y/n and Soob were certainly sitting on the floor in their living room back in New York with a yongmeong face pillow still covering Soob’s face. “Are you going to put it down?” Soob chuckled at y/n. “I’m nervous!” Y/n was more anxious than Soob. “I’ll do it then.” Soob took the face pillow and placed it on his lap. Y/n squealed seeing Soob’s face in the viewfinder.

“Hi I’m Soobin also known as Soob and Binie.” Soobin covered his face feeling shy with y/n hyping him up.

The world suddenly was more colorful, the air was fresher, and the water was bluer and clear now that Soobin revealed his face. People were happy having an actual face to the name and seeing the most visually stunning couple. Soobin even unprivated his instagram but his instagram was literally a fan page of y/n because it was girlfriend material photos of y/n, and his only post with his face was his most recent one that still has y/n in the picture. Which people found so cute that Soobin is so down bad for y/n.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look��Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood, LaSalle, and Byron are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 20 - response - 2623 words - nsfw content!

about love against all odds feat. injury related prematurely retired football player james that settled and raised a son and international football star regulus

for regulus pencil mustache truther @veryinnovative, my football (players) loving wife @rottin6 and my number 1 enabler @itmeanssungod

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite. 

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk. 

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek. 

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through. 

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours. 

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly. 

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there. 

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers. 

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact. 

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes. 

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage. 

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment. 

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers. 

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus sounds equally giddy, equally drunk on love and fate. “Yeah, Jamie, I’m coming home.”

[cityofmeliora]

"The confessions of a Nameless Ghoul" (AKA the wildest Ghost interview)

Metal Hammer (April 2013)

It must get hot under those cloaks. Do you ever feel like taking off your mask and revealing your identity? “Yes.” Who gets more chicks: Papas or Nameless Ghouls? “Papa definitely gets most Mamas.” So surely you must get jealous of Papa Emeritus. Do you ever think about overthrowing him and taking his spot in the band? “He’s the magnet of carnal pleasures, being the only one of us to get publicly recognised, and since that sod can’t handle all the birds coming his way, we are happy to get what’s coming to us for solace.” And what is your most memorable groupie experience? “Unfortunately, it’s a little bit like they say about having experienced the 60s. If you remember it, you weren’t really there.” So what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done on a date? “After mentioning how well-endowed Papa is, I had to spend the rest of the night telling the girl to snap out of it – she continuously seemed dreaming and drooling.” What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen while high? “After our latest performance, a few of us got an accidental glimpse of what our Papa hides underneath his cloak. It appeared to actually have rotating glands and was sort of vibrating by itself. I can’t tell if it was ‘the green’, but I can tell you that I turned green after that…” Have you got any phobias or irrational fears? “That a future Mrs Ghoul might be subjected to a display of Papa’s device.” What is the strangest thing a fan has ever given you? “Female underwear. It’s a very strange gift. I mean, don’t they understand that we are guys and we wear boxer shorts? It is very inconsiderate.” What was the moment you realised you’d made it as a rockstar? “When Papa II actually recognised my presence as OK on our last ministry meeting. It was definitely a sign that I was starting to make it!” With great stardom often comes great ego. Have you ever uttered the words: “But don’t you know who I am?!” “I have actually – several times in fact, but Papa II is just as inconsiderate as Papa I, and will hush you and then ask you to leave the backstage area.” What’s the worst fight you have ever been in? “When Papa II ordered the dogs to be unleashed on me. This happened right after he gave me the feeling of having made it.” What’s the worst thing you’ve ever been called? “Well, we just had to change our name to Ghost B.C. in the US.” What’s the worst enemy you’ve ever made? “It’s tough to say, there are a lot of them out there but Papa II is definitely a contender.”

Metal Hammer (April 2013)

[joeyalohadream]

https://www.tumblr.com/joeyalohadream/751467390395727872/taking-drabbleprompt-requests

hello! could i request something fluffy with bucky surprising buck for his birthday and buck doesn’t really know how to respond since he never got birthdays as a kid :( thank u!

I'm slowly but surely working my way through me inbox!

Thanks for this prompt anon! I had fun with this one and I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,109

Bucky hears footsteps from the hall outside their door and looks up from where he was perched on the windowsill just in time to watch Gale swing open their door and shuffle into the room, shower shoes squeaking and his bag of toiletries snug under his arm.

Much to Bucky’s disappointment his towel was being rubbed all over his long hair instead of wrapped around his hips and he was already dressed in loose fitting PT clothes. He knew Gale was modest and it was rare that he left himself exposed outside their room, but he couldn’t help but dream.

“Leave any hot water for the rest of them?” He took in the red tinged skin along Gale’s neck and face. It’s one of Gale’s quirks that he finds charming, showering at the oddest hours to avoid the traffic and give himself the chance of being able to have the water as scalding hot as possible.

“Probably not,” Gale chuckled, looking a little sheepish as he sat on the edge of his bed and finished running the towel through his hair. The result was a total mess, hair skewed in all directions, falling over his forehead in damp waves. The opposite of his usual perfect style and Bucky’s new favorite version of him.

“Well most people are still hungover from last night’s day-after-Christmas celebration so I don’t expect many of them are up for standing long enough to clean up anyway.” Bucky assured him. Their instructors gave them the time between Christmas and New Year’s off from training and most of the young men were using it as an excuse to get and stay drunk.

“That include you?” Gale asked him, eyeing him a little critically but not with any judgement.

“Sure doesn’t,” Bucky said proudly. “I cut myself off at an appropriate time so I could fully enjoy today.”

“That right?” Gale eyed him, a curious glint in his eyes. “And what’s so special about today?”

Bucky leaned forward, hands on his knees and grinned at the younger man.

“It’s your birthday Buck!” he declared dramatically and reveled in the surprise on Gale’s face at his words.

“How could you possibly know that?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stood up. “It’s literally engraved on your dog tags.”

Gale reached a hand up and pressed his palm to his chest where the metal no doubt rested. He squinted up at him, looking suspicious.

“My dog tags,” he repeated slowly. “That have been hanging around my neck since before I even met you and that I’ve never taken off?”

It’s a very nice neck, and they’re resting on a very nice chest, Bucky thinks.

“Those are the ones,” he grins. “Don’t think to hard on it Buck.” He throws in a wink that has the other man rolling his eyes.

“Well, I don’t really do birthdays, Bucky. So, feel free to let loose again and have an extra whiskey for me with the boys tonight.”

He looks down at Gale and notices that his posture is stiffer than before. He looks defensive and Bucky can’t figure out why. He had a friend back home that had a birthday the day after Christmas and he’d noticed it sometimes got lost between the holidays, always wondered if it made him sad. Wonders now if that’s what happened with Gale when he was a kid.

“Well that’s unfortunate, Buck,” he sighs. “Cause Toby, the guy that owns the bar I dragged you to that one night, his brother owns a ranch not far from town. And he told me that that’s where those Clydesdale horses from the Christmas parade we went to are being housed.”

He can’t help but smile at the way Gale’s head shoots up and his widen slightly.

“And Toby told me that his brother was okay with me bringing my buddy around to see those horses anytime today.”

The look on Gale’s face is one that makes Bucky’s heartbeat faster. He see’s excitement, maybe even hope shining in his eyes, but there’s disbelief there too, like he thinks there’s a chance Bucky is pulling his leg.

“Clydesdales are one of the heaviest breeds of horses,” Gale’s low voice tells him. “But they’re still somehow the most elegant too.”

Bucky grins at him, “I know that, Buck.” Because he’d listened to the other man spout on and on about them at the parade two days ago as they stood shoulder to shoulder in the cold.

“So what do you say?” Bucky prods. “Wanna make an exception to the no-birthday rule and go pet some horses with me?”

Gale gives him another look he can’t quite decipher before he stands up. “You think we’d get to pet them?”

“I already asked, it’s a done deal, Buck.”

The smile that breaks out onto Gale’s face is big and real and genuine and it makes Bucky want to start planning what to get Gale for his birthday next year. Makes him wish he’d gotten him something better than a tin can for his toothpicks for Christmas.

To his surprise and delight, Gale jolts forward and wraps his arms around him. Bucky barely has time to process what’s happening and return the hug before Gale is pulling away, cheeks redder than before and not able to be blamed on the hot water.

“Thanks John,” he says, voice soft. “I can’t remember the last time someone even remembered my birthday.” Bucky’s chest pangs in sympathy at the words. “You’re a good friend.” And Bucky’s chest warms again at those ones.

“Your best friend,” he emphasizes and smiles when Gale rolls his eyes.

“Can we go right now?” Gale asks him, not bothering to hide is excitement anymore. It’s incredibly endearing.

“Soon as you get some proper clothes on and fix that birds nest on your head.” Bucky tells him, reaching out to ruffle his hair and laughs when Gale shoves him gently in retaliation.

He watches as Gale moves to put his other uniform on, movements rushed in his eagerness. Bucky has the sudden thought that making Gale happy might be his new favorite thing and wonders if that should concern him. He quickly decides it doesn’t.

“I’ll meet you outside,” Bucky tells him, knowing Gale prefers privacy to get dressed. When he gets to the door and opens it, he pauses before walking through and turns back to the other man.

“Hey Gale,” he says, getting the other’s attention and smiling at the look of surprise at hearing his name. “Happy birthday.”

The smile he receives in return keeps him warm as he walks out into the winter chill to get them a ride.

[wardenparker]

You know I need me some Connie forehead kisses, so Detective Tim Rockford and “Wait! Don’t leave.”

I mean, there’s so many options so I’m tossin’ that one up there, but I’m also gonna say “Connie’s Choice”! You hit a massive milestone so you should getta celebrate however you see fit, darlin’.

Detective Tim Rockford and “____” <- You fill in the prompt.

*points to my forehead*

Right here! When you’re ready. No pressure. 😁😘🥰

My darling Dax 🧡 You get ALL the forehead kisses, but unfortunately also a very sad microfic.

Tim Rockford. 2,332 words. "Wait! Please don't leave!" Co-written with @absurdthirst Warnings: Explicit descriptions of crime scene, death, murder, domestic dispute (verbal), angst

The rain beats against the windshield, his knuckles tight against the steering wheel as the headlights slice through the inky black of the night. Tim doesn’t pay attention, he can’t. The blare of the police radio cuts through the silence in the car, his thoughts racing in circles as he drives as if he’s on autopilot.

Sharp winds whip around his car outside, an annoyance of white noise in the background that only makes his blood pressure rise when it shakes his little car. He knows the address he’s driving to. He knows it by heart.

******

“I just wish you would put me first once.” You express as he jams the loose items that are scattered across the dresser into his pockets. Two dollars and thirty-seven cents in change, a pocket knife, a losing scratch off ticket, a receipt from Jimmy’s Hot Dogs, a random mint, the ever present cigarette lighter and his wallet. The badge is tucked into his jacket, along with his car keys, hanging on the coat tree near the front door.

“I got a call.” He huffs, annoyed by the guilt that is settling on his shoulders. “You know the drill.”

“Can you even tell me the last time you ate dinner at home?” The last thing you want is to be cruel to him but you’re trying to make a point. Your husband of seven years and partner of ten has been slipping further and further from your fingers with every passing day and you’re at your wits end with how to get it to stop.

Your name is like a sigh of frustration and he pauses, turning tired eyes on you. He’s tired of the same arguments over and over again. “I’ll be back.” He tells you, turning and walking towards the door.

“Tim, wait!” The anguish that cracks your voice comes with tears — guilty, burning ones that you were trying not to let free. “Please don’t go.”

His resolve cracks and he turns, his hand on the door knob. “Babe, I have to go.” He doesn’t— not really. It’s not his case, but he feels like it’s connected to that fucking mystery that has taken over his life. As soon as he can solve it, he will fix this gully between the two of you. “I’ll be back in a few hours and we can talk, okay?” You don’t answer, but he takes that as your agreement. “I love you.”

“Be safe.” Unable to even bring yourself to say that you love him back — because you do, you absolutely fucking do but right now it feels like he’s just saying the words to placate you — you turn away and slip back into the kitchen. Tim is never home and you work a 9-5, so the chores pile up relentlessly. Maybe you’ll put dishes in the dishwasher and clothes in the dryer and go to bed early.

Walking out the door feels like he is fighting against himself, but the urge to close this case, to finish things off is too great to ignore. He pushes back the sight of your hurt face out of his mind and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. Walking towards his car, he’s not Tim, your husband, he’s changed into Detective Rockford.

******

“Detective Rockford?” The primary on the case is already there, and he wasn’t expecting back up. But the seasoned detective that he knows well is a welcome sight, even if Rockford doesn’t quite look himself.

“Hey Jimmy.” Tim gives a wan smile before looking towards the tape. “What do we got?”

The young detective has worked hard for his place on the force and seen plenty, but this one is a lot even for him. “Female. Forties. Stabbed to death in her own living room. Pretty gruesome stuff, honestly, and you know these things don’t usually get to me.”

Tim swallows, closing his eyes and swaying where he stands. “Do—” he chokes out and his voice falters. “Do we have the guy?” He manages after a moment, trying not to cry right there.

“We have tire tracks, finger prints, and plenty of detritus under the vic’s fingernails. She fought hard.” Jimmy shuffles, not used to seeing his mentor this emotional. “Some of the wounds look defensive. And the weapon was left at the scene.”

His lip trembles and he inhales sharply. “Are you— are you sure it’s the homeowner?” He asks shakily, praying for a miracle.

“ID in her purse matches.” The younger man confirms. “Seems like she had barely gotten home. Might’ve been a robbery gone bad, but we need to take a more thorough look before that call gets made.”

Tim shakes his head, body trembling and he screams out your name, rushing towards the house. “Baby! Baby, come out!” He shouts, ducking under the tape and bolting through the door. “Sweetheart? Baby? Answer me!”

“Detective Rockford!” Jimmy swirls to run after him, not understanding what’s caused such a monumental break in his colleague’s behavior. Obviously he knows the victim, otherwise it makes even less sense.

Tim can’t stop, doesn’t even hear Detective Fallon as he rushes into the house and over to the body that is draped in a white sheet, the thick material slowly being soaked red with blood. Choking as he drops to his knees, he reaches up to draw the sheet back.

“Ma’am, you really can’t be—” Detective Fallon’s voice is part of a sea of white noise, unheard and unnoticed by Tim as he reaches for the corner of the sheet he absolutely shouldn’t be touching. “Ma’am, this is an active crime scene!”

But you don’t hear him, blasting past the young detective to stumble into your own living room, where the figure of your sister is crumpled in the middle of the carpet and covered in a sheet. “Get away from her!” Is all you can think to say, burning tears choking anything but fear and anguish out of existence.

Your voice makes him freeze, head whipping up to see you and his eyes widen. Choking out your name, he then whispers— “Is it— are you?”

“Tim?” He’s the last person you ever expected to see again, let alone in this house, but suddenly you’re actually glad for it. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, but you’re shaking with fear for the reality of who is under that sheet.

You are alive. His eyes dart back to the sheet and he looks back at you with a small frown. “You’re here.” He breathes out, immediately understanding. Since the divorce, you had lived with your sister. He stands and moves over towards you. “Baby.” He knows this will hurt you and he wants to take away the pain if he can.

“Is that…” You don’t have to finish the question. The boot poking out from under the sheet is the pair she borrowed from you, and the blood spattered purse with an evidence tag next to it is so familiar you would know it in your sleep. “She accidentally grabbed my purse when she left for work this morning.” You choke out the explanation but lurch forward when your knees buckle and your heart squeezes up into your throat. “Was it—were they—was it supposed to be me?”

“I don’t know.” You are about to break, he’s witnessed enough families to know. Stepping closer, he strokes your arm and looks into your beautiful, devastated eyes. “I don’t know baby, but I’m going to find them. I’m going to find who did this.” He promises.

******

The fluorescent lights of the station are harsh and the coffee in your hand is burnt, but it's better than being in your house. At this point you doubt you can ever go back there again and you're definitely trying to figure out where you're going to go or what you're going to do once you leave the station.

Tim comes back with a bottle of water for you, offering it to you when he walks up, and exchanges it for the coffee that you aren’t really interested in. “Preliminaries look like it was a mugging/burglary gone wrong.” Tim tells you quietly, aware that he probably shouldn’t say anything about this, period, but this is your sister. And you used to be his wife. “Camera footage from the neighbors show that the suspect approached her when she opened the door.”

"I don't–" Your head bobs in thanks when he takes the coffee from your hands and replaces it with the water bottle, though you still don't do anything but hold it. For your whole life you were always the person to be able to take charge and provide comfort in a crisis. Now that the crisis is your own, you're drawing a blank. "Will they let me go back? For–for clothes and stuff, I mean? I need to find a hotel..."

Tim grimaces. “It’s….still a crime scene.” He tells you reluctantly. “No one goes in right now.” He bites his lip, knowing that the DA would be pissed, but he would log a record of it in the case file. “If you want to make a list, I could get you some things.” He wants to offer to let you stay with him, in the old house you used to share, but that might be too much for you.

"No, I...I don't want you to get in trouble for me." There are strict rules for crime scenes. You were a cop's girlfriend and then wife for long enough to know that. "I can just get some stuff from Target tomorrow. Temporary stuff..."

“I can.” He offers, squatting down to look at you. “Do you have a friend…a boyfriend, where you can stay with them?” He asks, even if the idea makes him sick. He lost you, he has no right to be upset if you’ve moved on. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

"No." For as long as you and Tim were together, he knows you never really had an extensive circle of people close to you. You're an introvert and most of your friends were either his coworkers or the spouses of those coworkers. The friends you made in college have all gone their separate ways by now, and you had had your best friend in your sister. "No it's just Liz and me..." It was just the two of you, anyway.

Tim sighs softly and his brow furrows in concern. “You can— you don’t have to— but, you can stay with me.” He offers, unsure of how you would take his offer. You had told him during the divorce that you couldn’t wait to be done so you would never have to see him again, and circumstance had changed that. He still hasn’t told you he hadn’t had to be at that crime scene. He had just memorized your address and when it came over the radio, his heart had dropped.

"Wouldn't you get in trouble?" That has to be a conflict of interest or something, but the idea of being safe tonight has you shaking all over again when you suddenly jolt at the memory of why you even need safety in the first place.

“No.” Tim shakes his head. “You aren’t a suspect, never were. And the captain knows who you are.” He wants to reach out and wrap his arms around you, keep you safe, but he doesn’t want to overstep. “Or I can get you a hotel. Wherever you want.”

For maybe the first time since you walked into your house to see him standing there, you actually look up a little and meet Tim's eyes. "I don't think I should be alone, either," you admit quietly.

His heart breaks at the loss in your eyes, the sense that you are adrift and unsure of your course. He nods. “Then you don’t have to be alone, sweetheart.”

"There's not...not anyone at home who would be upset?" You have no business being upset if there is – after all you're the one who filed for divorce, not him – but you still stop your hand for reaching for him when it's halfway out.

He doesn’t miss the gesture and reaches out to take your hand. “No.” He promises. “Just a really lazy cat named Twix.” He licks his lips, heart pounding at the touch of your skin against his and he pushes those feelings down. He just means to comfort you. “No one since you left. Your blanket is still on the couch.”

“I—” There's no reason to refuse, and you're a little too shell-shocked at the moment to know whether or not you could actually manage all the logistics of a hotel on your own. Besides – again – the idea of being alone doesn't sit well with you. "Thank you." you manage finally, gripping his hand tightly in gratitude.

“You’re welcomed.” He knows he should get you home, his home, and he squeezes your one last time before letting it go. “Let me go finish up for the night, and we’ll get you settled.”

"Wait." Your hand tightens instinctively, holding him beside you. "Please don't leave?" Even in a room full of bustling people doing their jobs, without Tim beside you, you feel completely alone. And even though you know he has to do his job, you just – you need that comfort for a few minutes more.

It’s the same words that have haunted him for years, the ones you had uttered one desperate night that he had disregarded, signaling the end of your relationship. He regretted that night in the middle of the lonely nights that followed, wishing that he could somehow go back, do things different. He can’t change the past, but he can show you the compassion you need. Shifting to his knees in front of you, Tim looks up at you, his eyes wider than normal as he gives you his promise. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[sanderssidesthehouse]

First of all, the reason it took me so long to put this out was bc I was trying to find good shots of their outfits and I simply couldn't except for Remus. Theoretically they all wear pants. I swear we've gotten good shots of them, I just can't find them anywhere so if anyone wants to help a guy out and send some my way, thanks in advance.

Look, is Logan hot? Yes. But it’s not because of the outfit. It’s because of the autism.

Just put him in a whole ass button up and some slacks and nice shoes, keep the tie, he doesn’t need a full suit, but if he’s trying to look professional, that’s literally what district managers and office workers wear, it would do. Now, if he did some character development and wanted to express his interests via clothing, we could throw in a lab coat or maybe a heavy duty apron. If he wanted to be more casual, you know he’s wearing a NASA bomber and star patterned converse but he also definitely put the stars and such on there himself. Space nerd has to have a favorite galaxy he could map out.

He’s not giving enough. He could be giving so much more. He’s Creativity and he is extra as hell, you’re telling me he couldn’t be MORE extravagant? Where are the furs? The cape? The crown? The DRAMA??? He’s playing a prince, but a prince can wear eyeliner. Where is it? Give him some gold highlighter, I want to be able to see him from the moon. A prince has got to slay, but what is he slaying? My spirits? With his current outfit, certainly. I’m mad because he can do better. He’s so boring to look at. Maybe it’s because he’s not just a prince, he’s specifically a Disney prince, but just because we’re pulling from a source material doesn’t mean we can’t spice it up, ok? Adaptation is allowed and encouraged to make improvements. But I’m also not really a Disney fan. You didn’t come here for unbiased facts anyway, you came her for my bad opinions.

I don’t think you can get any more Catholic guilt than that look so potential is met. Unfortunately the only thing he’s serving is church dad who cries himself to sleep next to his wife that he never has sex with because he’s gay but scared to admit it. She loves him but knows there’s something missing and resents him for it. They still have two and a half kids as is standard. Their picket fence is white. He’s living in suburban purgatory. He projects a little too much onto his dog. This is what he’s serving. I’m not eating it. Um, personality, yeah the fit pretty much sums him up. I hope at some point it doesn’t. I hope he gets better. Someone help him.

I know he’s on the cusp of proper development so he might get a new fit soon? Or not idk. I hope if he does it’s froggy. Give him one of those frog rain hats that would be cute af. He just wants to be silly, let him be silly, please for the love of everything, someone let him be silly.

I think we could have went harder into a subculture. Emo/punk and he doesn’t even paint his nails or wear a choker. What a fucking poser. The patches on the sweatshirt and holes in his T are good, though. He could also probably do with piercings and more make up. I do love that as a collective the fandom decided to have him keep the purple hair bc that really did him some good. I understand it's annoying to put chalk or wax in your hair every time to play him, but it would get him another point in the potential category. I just want him to look cool.

Serving- Dark sides know how to serve a look. If you’re going to be morally neutral/grey you have to make up for it by being hot. They don’t make the rules but the rules were definitely made for them.

Personality- I know exactly who he is by looking at him: A fucking dork. I love my dork ass wife.

Potential- There’s always room for improvement. Namely a yellow ribbon strip on the hat. I know in my heart of hearts that it’s there, but my eyes betray me.

idek if I’d say the cape is an improvement, I think they were right not to include it because it doesn’t really add anything to the way he’s been portrayed. Though I would love to see an occasion where he can play around with the cape because I love capes. I just feel like a variation of landsknecht would have served him well. Maybe paned slops. Pumpkin breeches. Do you see the vision? He just needs some slutty little booty shorts to amp up the bottom energy, and he already has the sleeve design to go with it.

Look, he’s not even my boy, but I’m going to defend Patton on this one. What else could we possibly do here? (I’m serious, please tell me, I want to hear about your Patton designs.) He’s just you’re emotionally repressed dad! Not MY emotionally repressed dad, for certain, mine wears Hawaiian shirts, Bermuda shorts, and crocs, but SOMEBODY’s emotionally repressed church dad. Probably. Maybe.

He’s not SUPPOSED to be all ‘it’s called fashion, sweaty’ because he’s just a guy! A very normal, boring guy! That’s part of his whole thing! He’s church dad! And his outfit shows it! Anyway, sorry Patton. I didn’t mean to expose you to this kind of outfit negativity. (This portion is mostly a joke. Idc if you think his outfit sucks. It does, that just happens to be in character which makes it technically not suck in my opinion.)

Maybe now that Janus has his hands on him Patton's fashion sense will improve. Light sides just don't do it like the dark sides.

[literallylexa]

DEAN X READER:

FOREVER AFTER ALL

IMAGINE SMUT

Imagine: You die and your life flashes before your eyes, how you met Dean Winchester. You wait for Dean to finally arrive in heaven. CONTAINS SMUT

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

BEFORE:

Scenes of your past flash before your eyes as you lay dying. The first time you met Dean Winchester you had already fallen in love with him.

“Hello this is my partner Agent Smith and I am also Agent Smith..uh no correlation.” Dean smiles at you. “We are following up on a missing persons case. Your friend, or uh roommate?”

The night before you had come home to your friend slaughtered. Fingers chopped off and a slit neck. “Yes, how can I help you?” You ask, a sad tone in your voice.

“Did your friend have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her?” Dean asks.

“No. She was a very friendly person. However…I don’t know you might think I’m crazy but the nights leading up to her..murder.” You choke, “She was saying that she saw her ex boyfriend. But he’s been dead for almost 2 months now.”

“What was the name of her ex?”

••

You’re stuck in a salt circle. The ghost trying to get through to kill you. You clutch onto Dean’s jacket tightly, legs shaking. Even though you’ve only known him for a day, you trusted him. He was strong, handsome, confident, and comforting. “I got you. Nothing will happen to you. Sammy should be done any moment now.” Dean looks down at you with a soft smile. His green eyes making contact with yours, making you blush. The next second, the ghost burns away into thin air. Everything was quiet. You hug Dean, standing on your tippy toes to reach his neck. His thick, muscular arms wrapping around your small frame, holding your waist.

Sam and Dean leave town after that. “So ghosts, vampires, and just monsters are real, huh?” You ask Dean.

“Unfortunately…But hey, here’s my number. In case you see or hear anything. Call me immediately.” Dean grabs your phone and puts his number in. You blush even harder. “You can’t stay for longer?” You ask Dean, hope gleaming in your eyes.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but no. We gotta hit the road. Take care of yourself okay?”

You grab Dean by his shirt and pull him down to your lips. He’s taken by surprise by your actions, but ultimately pulls you in closer, grabbing your hips and grinds against his. His lips are soft and wet, crashing against yours you feel out of breath. “For the road.” You say breaking apart, face hot and red. Dean bites his lips and says goodbye, getting into Baby and driving away.

••

After that encounter, you started to hunt on your own, mostly giving hunters tips of locations and the possible supernatural creatures. “Glad you could make it.” You say to Dean. “You called, I answered.” He chuckles. You guys hug, you take a deep breath. It feels like the whole in your heart was filled again. Excitement, love, and arousal filled your body. Dean was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. Not to mention having an amazing personality too. If only he wasn’t a hunter, maybe you’d have a chance to actually be together. His eyes linger for a little bit too long on your lips and breasts. As you walk in front of him to your apartment you can feel him staring at your ass too. “You want a beer?” You ask opening the fridge. “Always.” Dean looks around your apartment, picking up old pictures of you and your deceased dog. The room is silent, however the sexual tension between you two did not go unnoticed.

“So!” You exclaim tapping the table top. “What have you been up to?”

Dean takes a gulp of his beer and sets it down. “Oh you know the same old stuff. Hunting.”

“Speaking of hunting. Thats why I called you here. I’m pretty sure a demon is possessing my neighbor.” You say quickly, trying not to make the conversation even more awkward than it already is.

“What?!” Dean yells, walking over to you. “Nah uh you’re not about to have a demon next door. Pack up your things, we are staying at a motel until we get this figured out.”

••

Unfortunately for the bed, but fortunately for you, the motel only had one bed- no couch. “We can just share the bed.” You say sheepishly. Dean smirks, “There’s a lot of things we can share on the bed.” You giggle and punch his shoulder. He’s not lying though. There’s many things that you’d like to share with him on that bed. Many things.

You and Dean end up exorcising the demon. Luckily the person was still alive, you call the ambulance to have them picked up. “Good job back there.” Dean says, looking at you up and down.

You know that things would never get that far with Dean, but it didn’t stop you from being so incredibly attracted to him. Maybe he felt the same way. Dean steps closer to you, lifting up your chin to look at him, brushing hair out of your face. He crashes his lips against yours, picking you up and setting you on the counter. With your legs wrapped around his waist, he grinds up against you. Dean groans from the friction, a bulge growing in his pants. His hands run up and down your body, caressing your curves. He finds his way under your shirt, massaging your breasts. You moan from his touch, oh very badly did you crave it. You unbutton your shirt and he grins, taking your bra off exposing your breasts, the coldness of the room hardening your nipples. Dean licks his lips and begins to take one nipple in his mouth, kissing, licking, and biting it while his hand twists and massages the other. You put a hand through his soft short hair, needing more of him. You tug at his flannel to take it off. He obliges, removing his flannel and shirt, leaving you both naked from the waist up. “You’re beautiful.” Dean says in between kisses.

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” You ask Dean. He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He lays you gently down on the bed, he kisses from your breasts down to your belly, stopping at the hem of your pants. He unbuttons them, lifting your legs up to take them off. “You’re already soaking wet for me baby.” Dean groans, seeing your wet panties. He takes them off greedily, drooling at the sight of your pussy. His stubble brushes across your inner thighs as he begins to lick at your folds. You gasp when he sticks his warm tongue inside you. “(Y/N) you taste so good.” Dean says. He continues to tongue fuck you until the point you can’t take it anymore. However, before you can orgasm he stops. He couldn’t handle anymore foreplay. He needs his cock to be inside of you. He begins to unbutton his pants and you wait in anticipation to see what he’s been hiding. His cock pops out from his boxes, already leaking pre cum from his long dick. You squirm, desperately needing him inside you. “Please Dean.” You cry. “Not yet. You need to get it wet first.” Dean manages to say. He helps you sit up facing his cock. He strokes it a couple times, massaging his balls in the process. You grab his cock and lick him from the base to the tip, swirling it around on your tongue. Then, slowly putting the tip in your mouth, down the shaft, to the base of his large cock, getting use to the length. Dean moans almost embarrassingly loud, twitching at your movements. You lick up and down his long cock, tasting every inch of him. His balls were hanging low, you get off the bed and onto your knees, you grab his balls and put them both in your mouth, his dick hitting your forehead has you do so. Dean grips your hair into a ponytail, moaning out your name. “Fuck (Y/N).” Dean groans, then throwing you onto the bed, your ass facing him. Before you both even have time to think about putting on a condom, his dick rubs against your pussy lips becoming slippery. “Please fuck me Dean!” You cry out, becoming sexually frustrated, you need him inside you.

He slowly slides his cock into your pussy, “Baby you’re so tight.” You feel every inch of Dean as he slides into you, taking his length in full. With your pussy already leaking wet, Dean starts off with a slow pace, grabbing you by the hips, getting a rhythm. He is already hitting all the sweet spots, something no other man could do for you. “Dean you feel so good inside me.” You moan out, clutching the blankets beneath you. Dean had already wanted to cum the second he went inside you, so nice and tight, so wet for him. He speeds up his rhythm, slamming his cock deep inside your pussy, making you cream all over his cock. Your moans, screams, skin slapping, and the wetness from your pussy fill the air as he ruthlessly fucks you.

Dean pushes your head down onto the bed, grabbing your ass and smacking it leaving red hand marks. Dean has never been this horny in his life before, you are just so irresistible to him. Dean was in a trance by hearing your moans for him, taking all of his dick inside your pussy. “You’re taking my cock so good baby.” Dean moans out, feeling like he’s going to cum soon. Dean stops and pulls out, turning you over on your back, legs up in the air resting on his shoulders. Once again he slams into you, filling you up whole. He leaves lingering kisses along your breasts and neck as you moan out his name. Dean didn’t want this to end, he could go all night with you, and you could do the same. “Fuck I’m about to cum!” Dean yells, pulling out and squirting his hot cum all over your pussy lips. You giggle looking down at his mess. You’re still horny, needing to cum. You start to play with your clit, massaging his hot cum all over your pussy lips. Dean gasps as he sees you doing so, gently sticking one finger inside you as you play with your clit. You moan out as he rubs your g-spot, adding in another finger as he continues. This was all too much for you to handle, after a couple minutes of doing so, you cream all over his fingers and he gladly licks it off his fingers.

The night continues of you and Dean not getting enough of each other, fucking and cumming until you fall asleep for the night.

••

After that night, Dean invited you to stay at the bunker with Sam and him. Sometimes Cas showed up. “I just want to keep you safe.” Dean admits. You’ve known each other for a couple years now, texting back and forth and exchanging phone calls and stories, occasionally seeing each other once a month or so. You pack up all your things and move into the bunker with the boys. You and Dean end up being official a couple weeks after that. You buy new furniture and decor for the boys room, “Trying to make it more homey.” You say.

Life seemed to be almost perfect. Until one faithful day.

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

NOW:

“Dean!” You scream out, the demon grabbing you by the neck, choking you.

“Let her go, now.” Dean spits, raising a gun.

The demon stabs your gut, letting you fall to the ground. “I let her go.” The demon snickers.

By the time Dean gets over to you and the demon, they vanish. Dean holds you as you lay dying. “No baby please stay with me.” Dean says in desperation.

“I love you, Dean.” You choke out, blood flowing down your face. Your eyes meet his for one last time, and then you see bright white.

••

“I can’t leave.” You say to the reaper, looking at Dean as he’s sobbing over your body. “It’s too early, we didn’t get to spend our life together. We didn’t get out the life, we didn’t have any children or animals together.” You cry, a pain in your heart, too unbearable to deal with anymore.

“You know what will happen if you stay.” The reaper puts a cold hand on your sunken shoulders. “All those angry spirits you hunt, you will become one.”

“Will I see him again, wherever I go?” You ask.

“I can’t tell you that.” The reaper smiles, “It’s okay to go.”

You leave Dean a cold kiss on his forehead, he looks up shocked. “(Y/N)?” He says, looking around. He could feel your presence.

“Goodbye, Dean.” You say as you walk through the light.

••

Heaven. On the other side it’s beautiful. Mountains covered with large pine trees. A river flows underneath a bridge. The echoing of birds chirping fill the air. A small house, perfect as you could ever imagined lives on the top of the hill, watching over the river. You enter it, pictures of your family, friends, and Dean hang on the walls. Tears fills your eyes, you miss Dean. A knock at the door brings you back to your senses. You open the door, revealing John and Mary Winchester. Both smiling as they hold housewarming gifts. You’ve never met either of them before, but they seemed to know who you were, as they were always watching over Dean.

“Dean will be here soon.” Mary comforts you, placing a gentle hand on your back.

••

You spend the next couple weeks doing the things you love the most. Cooking all your favorite foods, swimming in the always warm water, drinking your favorite liquor. Everyone’s heaven is together. Sometimes you’d go up to the Winchesters house and have dinner, sometimes you’d go fishing with Bobby. Ellen and Joe were there sometimes too; along with all the other hunters you’ve lost along the way.

One day, you were walking down to the lake as you always do. Towel and a book in hand. From afar you notice a tall figure, you immediately knew who it was. “Dean!” You scream out, dropping everything and run to him. He turns around in shock, running towards you also. He picks you up and twirls you around, pulling you in for a long kiss after. Tears flow down Dean’s face as he looks at you. “I love you too.” Dean cries, brushing your hair out of your face, finding it hard to be real that he’s able to see your beautiful self again. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You say, pressing your face into his shoulder, breathing him in. Your heart felt full again. You and Dean take hands and walk up the hill to the bridge, there sits Baby parked. Dean squeals in excitement, immediately jumping in the drivers seat. You laugh and get into the passengers seat. “Head up to that house over there. I have a surprise for you.” You say. Dean obliges.

You knock at the Winchesters door. Mary answers. “Mom?!” Dean cries, hugging her. John walks up too, pulling Dean into an embrace. “We are just waiting for Sam now.” You say to Dean. “Time will go by fast.”

Eventually Sam joins everyone in heaven. Everything was complete. You and Dean had your own house, and got married. Dean enjoys mowing the lawn while you tend to the garden. On the weekends you guys host BBQ’s with all of your friends and family in heaven.

Maybe somethings last forever after all.

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

“A cold beer's got twelve ounces

A good truck's got maybe three hundred thousand

You only get so much until it's gone

Duracells in a Maglite

A needle drop on a forty-five

Are the kinda things that only last so long

When the new wears off and they get to getting old

Sooner or later, time's gonna take its toll

They say nothing lasts forever

But they ain't seen us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

Just a t-shirt in the kitchen

With no make-up and a million

Other things that I could look at my whole life

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts

Maybe some things last forever after all

FM station on the outskirts

Blue jeans after years of shift work

All fading out like I always knew they would

The strings on this guitar

The first love lost on a young heart

Those things are gonna break after the getting's good

'Cause the new wears off and they get to getting old

Yeah, sooner or later, time's gonna take its toll

They say nothing lasts forever

But they ain't seen us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

Just a t-shirt in the kitchen

With no make-up and a million

Other things that I could look at my whole life

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts

Maybe some things last forever after all

They say nothing lasts forever

But they ain't seen us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

And I know there'll be that moment

The good Lord calls one of us home and

One won't have the other by their side

But heaven knows that that won't last too long

Maybe some things last forever after all”

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

AUTHORS NOTE: I will never forgive SPN writers making that ending so rushed and short. I would have absolutely LOVED for Sam and Dean to see their parents again, Bobby, and just everyone that they’ve lost in heaven together. I wish they would have had an episode “feel good” episode of just everyone being happy in heaven, throwing parties and bbq’s, and just drinking until they’re too drunk. Let me know how you think SPN should have ended!

[sauronsgirl]

Maybe you’re not an asshole after all…

Tom Ryder x F!Reader

Warning: smut 18+

He is a real asshole. You cannot stand him, as everyone else on set but you have no choice to endure him. Tom Ryder is the superstar every director wants in their movie. He looks good, has great acting skills, but as an individual, he is the worst asshole.

You are Jody’s assistant, the director of the movie and you love your job. She is an amazing boss and you can even consider her a friend. Colt, Tom’s stunt man, is also a good friend. He is kind and funny, the complete opposite of Tom.

Speaking of the devil, he is walking behind you as you storm off set after he called you a whiny bitch who doesn’t know how to do her job.

-Y/N stop! You can’t walk away from me, we aren’t finished! says Tom angry.

You stop and turn to look at him. You are furious and hurt by his words. You’ve worked hard to be where you are today. Tom almost run into you. He looks at you angry and astonished.

-I can and I will. I don’t let anyone insult me. Especially not an asshole superstar who cares only about himself. I’ve worked hard to get this job and I’m good at it. I won’t let you undermine me. Now excuse me, I have things to do.

You turn back and leave a stunned Tom Ryder standing there. You smirk in satisfaction. It was about time someone puts him back into his place. What you didn’t notice as you were turning aroud, is the tent in Tom’s pants. Your fierce personality turns him on, but he will never admit openly.

Later that day, when Jody tells everyone to wrap up, you sigh in relief. You just want a glass of wine and a hot bath after today.

You say goodbye to everyone and leave to return home. You live in a chic and spacious appartement, your job pays well. You make your way inside then go to the kitchen to get your well deserved glass of wine.

God you love your job, but working with Tom is exhausting. He is such a whiny actor who doesn’t give a shit to anyone but himself. Although you hate to admit it, he is really hot. Physically he is your type, but unfortunately his stupid bastard attitude ruins it.

You take the bottle and the glass then go to the bathroom to take a really hot bath. You need to relax and it will do the job. Once it’s ready you take off your clothes then climb inside. You sigh in relief and pleasure.

You are laying down and enjoying your wine when you hear someone knocking at your appartement’s door. You close your eyes and try to ignore it but the person doesn’t want to give up. You sigh then get out, wrap your body in a towel then go to the door.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you see Tom standing there with a bouquet of red,blue and white flowers. Your favorites. He looks you up and down, surprised but eyes darkening in lust as he see you’re only wearing a towel. You clinch it thighter against your body, feeling hot under his gaze.

-What the hell are you doing here? you ask trying not to blush.

-I wanted to apologize. You were right, I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve to be treated that way. says Tom remorseful.

You are stunned. Never in your life you’ve would thought to hear Tom Ryder apologize and admits his wrongs.

-Please say something. Don’t leave me hanging here. he says chuckling.

That gets you out of your stupor. You open the door wider to let him in.

-Well it’s unexpected. Not that I’m not thankful for the apologies and the flowers. you say with a chuckle.

-There is a first for everything. I’m sorry. You do an amazing job and you do deserve to be here. Will you forgive me? asks Tom with puppy dog eyes.

With this look you know you’re gone. And he seems honest with his apologies. So against what your head says, you walk to him and kiss him hard. He moans in surprise then with one hand puts the flowers aside and the other one holds you against him.

One thing leading to another, you find yourself naked in your bed, Tom’s head between your legs. The man knows what he is doing. You moan in pleasure as he switches from licking your wet folds to sucking on your clit.

-Oh god Tom… you’re so good at this… you breathe between moans.

He stops just for a second to smile, not smirk, at you.

-Glad to hear you like this baby. Means I’m doing my job correctly.

Tom returns to eating you out while now pumping two fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He finds you g-spot immediately and it makes you come on his face and fingers. That was the best orgasm you ever had.

Tom slowly pulls back, his hair a mess because of your hands and his face is covered in your release. You blush. Especially when he moans as he sucks his fingers clean.

-You taste delicious baby. I could spend hours between your legs. says Tom smirking.

-As much as I would love that, do you have the intention to fuck me? Your apologies would be accepted entirely. you say smirking.

-You don’t have to tell me twice. You’re going to enjoy it so much you’ll never want another dick than mine.

Now you recognize the Tom arrogant from set. But instead of being turn off by his answer, you feel aroused at the idea of how good being fucked by him will be.

-Now spread your legs like a good girl and let Daddy fuck your pretty pussy. says Tom eyes dark with lust.

You moan at his dirty words and do as he says, spreading your legs wide. Tom groans as he sees your folds wet with arousal. He takes place between your thighs, grips his cock with one hand to align it with your pussy.

He thrusts inside you to the hilt. You squeal then moan at the fullness. He groans as he feels how thight you are. Tom let you adjust to his size. He his big and it’s been a while since you had sex.

You nod once you’re ready then wrap your legs around his waist. He slowly pulls out before thrusting back in again hard. Tom starts a fast pace, deep and hard. You whine in pleasure, the feeling of his cock moving in and out is heavenly. He moans loudly and it’s the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.

His balls hit your ass with each movement of his hips. Your breast bounces and Tom is captivated by the view. He brings his mouth to one of your nipple to lick and suck on it. He fucks you hard, making you see stars.

-Fuck Tom! Please… you beg on the verge of cumming.

-Please what baby? Use your words if you want something… says Tom smirking as he slows a bit down.

-I want to cum please! you say tears of pleasure in your eyes.

-Then cum for me Princess. Cum for Daddy. orders Tom circling your clit with the palm of his hand.

You explode, your mouth wide open in a silent scream, your cunt clenching his erection hard. You don’t have the time to recovers that Tom is pulling out, turning you on all four and thrust back in. He sets up the same pace, gripping your hair with one hand and your hips with the other one.

-Again? you say breathless.

-Sweetheart, I intend to make you cum at least three times on my dick tonight. he says into your ear.

Tom thrust two more times before halting, spilling into the condom as he comes. His release triggers yours and you climax again screaming his name. He groans in pleasure and your arms give up. You fall on your stomach, eyes half closed, completely spent and satisfied.

He pulls out then use his shirt to clean the mess between your legs then lay down at my side. You roll over to cuddle against him and he wraps an arm around you. You both lay in silence for a while, the only sound being our breathing. That was the best sex you ever had and you understands now the rumors about him.

-Apologies accepted. you say giggling.

Tom laugh. A real, sincere laugh. It’s the first time you hear it and you like it.

-I’m happy to hear it. I was wondering if well… if you want to go on a date with me? he asks suddenly shy.

You don’t hesitate when you answer him. You realize he might not be a complete asshole after all and you want to know the real him personally.

-I would love that Tom. you reply smiling.

He looks at you surprised but happy. It makes your heart melt.

-Really?

-Yes really.

Tom kisses you tenderly before it slowly turns into something more heated. You feel him harden again and you look at him surprise but aroused.

-Again? you say raising an eyebrow.

-Well I did tell you that I would at least make you come three times on my cock…

You kiss him again and he kept his promise. When you wake up the next morning in his arms, you are sore in a very good way and have a soft smile on your face.

My first ever Tom Ryder fic 🥵❤️ I love him so much it’s unfortunate that there is not enough fics about him :(

Tag: @tangerineboss @pretty-little-mind33

[pterodactylterrace]

Unapologetically Team Green Take:

Alicent

Ok, I’m going to call it now. They decided Maelor being Aegon and Helaena’s child was green propaganda. In F&B Helaena couldn’t even care for herself, let alone her remaining children.

Aegon allegedly gives Maelor to his mother to raise as her own. No mention of the surviving twin being given the same treatment. They will likely decide to give Alicent at least one bastard just to drive home the feeling of “see? Evil hypocrite!” Even though Alicent is a widow and not putting her illegitimate son in the succession.

It was rumored that Daeron would be an Alicole bastard, but then how in the fuck did he hatch his dragon? I’m getting the vibe that Tessarion was hatched to Daeron, which wouldn’t be possible unless Viserys was his father. I can already hear Condal now “everyone kind of forgot that only Targaryens can hatch a dragon egg” “it’s green propaganda that only Targaryens can claim dragons”

Just waiting for all the “Alicent is a hypocrite and a slut!” Hate to start rolling in. The only issue is that her paramour is a member of the kingsguard. And he is willingly breaking his vow. A vow Aegon doesn’t seem to even really care about that much. It sounded more like a suggestion when he told his kingsguard pal that he was supposed to be celibate. Plus, isn’t the vow that they would father no children, not that they wouldn’t get their freak on? I mean, maybe it’s splitting hairs, but the point of the vow is that they won’t have anyone or anything else they would put before their duty. Isn’t it kind of null and void if the resulting child would be a member of the royal family? Not to mention, Alicent took Ye Olde Morning After, so they are actively preventing him from fathering children.

Aemond

Speak High Valaryian between my legs to me

That smooth, cool voice just effortlessly tearing into Aegon. That had no business being THAT hot.

It’s nice to know Aegon wasn’t planned on being there. At least they have some sort of brain in their heads.

My take is that Aemond gave Aegon a chance, and came to his aid when it was clear he couldn’t win on his own. I also prefer to think that he didn’t mean to roast his brother.

We see Aemond walking around the crash site with his sword out. He is in the process of sheathing his sword when Cole approaches.

He exchanges no words, just points to where his brother and Sunfyre are.

My guess is they will try to frame it as “Aegon was a big dumb dummy and we needed him out of the way”

Aegon

He is so upset no one is listening to him. Can’t say I blame him.

His broken HV 😭 especially in comparison to Aemond’s easy grasp of the language.

“Mom, why are you in my room?”

Alicent has no idea the morning her son has had and her words are most certainly what pushes him over the edge.

The little kitty cat bapping of the pitcher off the table 😭

OH MY STARS AND GARTERS, THE SUNFYRE BOND!!!

Just a happy golden boi giving his rider a chest boop with his snoot. I may never recover from this. This is how I imagine TGC greets his dog when he gets home.

Sunfyre doesn’t need HV commands, he knows what Aegon wants. (Lemme guess Condal, Sunfyre just kind of forgot dragons only understand HV, it’s not because of their bond)

Golden Boi doing his absolute bestest!!! Poor baby has 0 battle experience. What he does have is a drunk rider and a can do attitude!

Maybe drunken dragon fighting was a bad idea?

The golden flames tho!!!!

Cole

Finally using his head for more than something to put his helm on.

It was a good plan. Kudos for the thought that went into it. Unfortunately, no one accounted for Aegon drinking and flying.

Not Gwayne instantly thinking Cole planned on Aegon showing up at the exact worst possible time.

Riding hard to get to Aegon, even as Aemond and Rhaenys fight overhead.

First thing he does when he regains consciousness is resume his search for Aegon.

Falling to his knees when he sees his eldest surrogate son burned and broken after his first taste of battle. He may not fully respect Aegon’s authority, but he still cares for him as a person. As his son.

Sunfyre:

WE WERE ROBBED

We needed more Sunfyre! He has been on screen for like two minutes, but in those two minutes he showed so much personality. The boop! THE BOOP!!!!

He throws up a wing against Vhagar’s flame to protect Aegon.

When they fall, sunfyre curls around Aegon to protect him.

Vhagar

How TF did they manage to hide a mountain of a dragon in the woods?

She is a real one for that nap, though 😂

Aemond said “wait” and she was like “thank FUCK!” And just flopped back down for a snooze.

How is this giant somehow also a master of stealth?

I understand Meyles being able to sneak up on Sunfyre, she is a very fast dragon, but Vhagar is noted to be slow.

But somehow she just manages to pop out of nowhere and snack on other dragons no problem.

Grabbing Meyles by the leg and roasting her. Grandma knows how to handle these hatchlings!

Conclusion:

Can we please have more focus on the dragons in a show about war between dragon riders? They are more than just transportation devices. They have personalities. I WANT TO SEE MORE OF THAT. Not more Syrax and Caraxes. Syrax is less of a dragon and more of a chicken pony, and we have seen the noodle boi so much. Show us the Green dragons FFS. They have less. It should be easier to show all of theirs, but instead we are constantly shown the dragons being used to patrol or transport the blacks. The one other time we see Vhagar it’s from miles away while she is patrolling KL. Also, why are none of these riders practicing evasive tactics? That seems really important. Instead they just fly at one another, clash, lock and bunny kick the shit out of their opponent.

I would just love to see them actually doing something with their dragons other than just using them as horses.

[mingos]

*crawls out of the ground like a mole, coughing up copious amounts of dirt*

so, hello.

    i try to keep things as vague & light as possible when referencing my homelife because, honestly, the last time i brought up anything tangentially related i was essentially told “you being upset is making other people upset and ruining the fun” so being anything other than ✨chaotic positivity gremlin wilder ✨ here makes me paranoid, hence why i’ll just disappear for weeks sometimes. 

but. 

i’ve clearly been gone for a bit, will probably be gone for a bit longer, and since i’ve been getting messages from folks wanting to check in on me i wanna give a more detailed update than usual. i feel guilty for not responding directly, but for reasons i can’t get detailed on other than “the idea of having a conversation with 99.9% of people right now is terrifying” (is this what being nonverbal is, chat?) with even the .1% being a super recent development, a queue post into the void is my solution.

i won’t get that detailed, but if light references to domestic abuse, addiction, or just family issues in general are hard subjects for you - nothing past this paragraph is too pertinent anyway, so don’t worry about having to stop. all you gotta know is that some Bad Stuff with family happened, but i’m safe & i’ll be back in maybe another week or something. 

anyways. i was living out of hotels for about 3 weeks. 

more like 16-17 days if you want to get technical because 4 of those days i had an actual scheduled hotel for my twin’s wedding at the end of august - but i’ve basically been bouncing around since august 21st. the night of the 20th, i had a horrific fight with my family member and, for the first time ever, i left. don’t know if would call it brave on my part - since we were leaving for a trip anyway, this is just the first time my suitcase was already packed.

right now, i’ve been at another relative’s house since the 11th. i tried to go back on the 1st because, even after years of this, i’m apparently way too easy to convince everything is going to be fine…  but by the 2nd i was out of there again. 

currently mulling over my next move here because, as much as the common sense answer is to stay away, anybody who’s unfortunate enough to deal with this knows how complicated it is. i’m scared for this person’s safety as much as i am for my own. no one else really checks on them, and i’ve already had to deal with several medical emergencies they’ve had like bad falls & breathing problems. i don’t like leaving them alone for long because the guilt at the thought of something bad happening to them and no one knowing for possibly days or weeks eats me up.

i logically know i’ll have to get past that eventually because i can’t let my life be dictated by this incredibly toxic cycle forever or i’ll never be happy, but now isn’t the time. they also have a dog who would similarly be put at risk if something happened to them, so it’s a lot for me to worry about.

but, having said all that, we’re currently in the apology stage or i guess the negotiation stage because, after the shit that happened this time, i’m making it perfectly clear i’m not stepping foot in that house until they do something. detox, treatment, rehab, disulfiram, soberlink, therapy – something. we’re kind of running out of things for them to try at this point, but at least they used to try. they haven’t really been doing that this past year and I’m the one suffering the most because of it.

so yeah, that’s where things are at the moment. i’m mentally not doing so hot - but I’ve got my dog, and being able to sleep in a bed i’m familiar with for a change and not a hotel (I spent so much money on hotels, guys i’m cooked) is nice relief while I wait out whatever the hell is happening. talking to them over the phone again pretty much drains any of the energy I’ve got back, but it sounds like they’re starting to "get it' so hopefully they’ll start to take this seriously again because I can really only take one more year of this (if even) until I just need to accept these things aren’t my responsibility and move on.

honestly, having a close-knit group of friends/support system for the first time in years has really reminded me of that and given me the confidence to take a lot of steps to live for myself for a change, and to think about prioritizing my own happiness for once, which wasn’t the place i was in at this time last year, or the year before that, or the year before that - so I just want to say thank you again to anyone whose ever helped talk me through something or really just been nice to me at all. this is why i always remember to be kind because it can genuinely do a lot for someone going through something, because i know it has for me.

anyway uhhhhh i hope you are all doing well, and with any luck i’ll be chilling on here by the start of october. can’t miss spooky month and this insufferable pink bird’s birthday, after all.

much love.