#according to my girlfriend i spent over 2 hours writing this

[goldenempyrean]

Interstellar Sniffles

〚 Notes - Hi, I finally got round to writing something suffient. Hopefully this is enough :) There's a definitely a chance for a pt2 if that's something you'd like, just lmk! 〛

〚 Pairing - WandaNat x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Nat get's sick with an Asgardian illness so it falls on you and Wanda to take care of her. Even if it means catching her germs. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 3500 〛

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〘 Part 2 〙

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Asgardian-Muticulated-Rhinovirus 

Nothing more than a minor inconvenience for most Asgardians. Light sniffles, minor headache? Well, that was nothing to the Thunder God from space but for humans? Regular humans with regular Earth immune systems. Maybe it was a little bit more complicated than that. 

It was a pretty normal Sunday when the God had landed back at the compound early that afternoon - he’d just come back from tending to some urgent out-of-worldly business and had decided to swing by to pay a visit to his fellow Avengers. Everybody was glad to see him and the whole team spent the rest of the day chatting and catching up. However, unbeknownst to the rest of the team, souvenirs and stories weren’t the only thing that Thor had brought back with him.  

As the night drew on everyone had retired into one of the entertainment rooms to stick on a movie and get comfortable. You found yourself sitting in between your two girlfriends, Wanda at your left casually playing Flappy Bird on her phone not really paying attention to the ongoing film while Nat was curled up on your right, her head resting against your shoulder. 

After about an hour, you couldn’t help but notice Nat becoming unsettled as she tried to stop herself from yawning widely. This continued for a few minutes before her final attempt of stifling her yawn failed and she gave in to it and stirred against you as she mumbled, “I think I’m gonna head to bed.” 

“You okay baby?” Wanda asked, overhearing her groggy mumble. 

“I'm fine, just tired.” The redhead dismissed her worry with a small smile before offering her hands out to both of you, “You two coming?” 

Now that she mentioned it, it was getting late and going to bed was probably a sensible idea. So, the three of you said your goodbyes and headed off in the direction of your bedroom. 

Out of view of the guys, Nat let herself relax a little and it became obvious that she was beyond tired. Her movements felt stiff, and her eyes seemed to be closing on their own accord. Slipping an arm around her waist, Wanda led her into the bedroom and sat her down at the end on the bed. 

“PJs?” You offered, after receiving two nods you went to find some whilst your two other girlfriends washed up for bed. By the time they came back out you’d laid out two sets and were already half-changed into your own.  

Whilst the two were changing, you washed up yourself and came back into the bedroom to find Nat already snuggled down in the centre of your king-size bed, blanket wrapped snugly around her leaving only her red tied back hair in view. 

“She settled down fast.” You noted as you grabbed your pyjama shirt from the edge of the bed. 

Wanda nodded as she came over to throw her arms over your shoulder’s, softly tugging on the black straps of your exposed bra, “She’s just tired. Maybe we can sleep in a little tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I’ll turn my alarm off then.” You agreed but something was still playing on your mind, “Do you not think it's a little odd though?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, she seemed lively and then in the space of a few hours she was exhausted.” You pursed your lips a little as Wanda squeezed your shoulder in comfort. 

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting how draining all the guys can be once we’re all together.” Wanda offered in response before kissing your exposed collarbone, “Plus it’s not just her, we’re both tired too, don’t deny it. I can see it in your eyes.” 

“I guess you’re right.” You admitted and turned your head to the side to kiss Wanda’s lips before she released you from her hold, “I still find it odd though.” 

You looked over to give Wanda a final unsure glance to which she only shrugged her shoulders a little before climbing in bed beside the redhead. With nothing more to say, you finished changing into your pyjamas before quickly climbing into bed yourself, snuggling down into the thick covers. To your surprise, Nat already seemed to be asleep, her head settled comfortably against Wanda’s shoulder. 

“She’s adorable when she’s sleepy.” Wanda whispered quietly as she carefully leaned over to kiss your cheek, “Goodnight darling.” 

“Goodnight sweetie.” 

〘✧✧✧〙    

When you woke up the next morning you instantly knew something was up. Someone was snoring. 

Now this may seem completely normal at first, but the thing was that neither Wanda nor Nat snored. Ever. Not once in the three years you’d been sharing a bed had you woken up to snoring. Wait no, maybe except for that one time Wanda had the flu for a week and was so congested her snores were more akin to the sound of a jet plane then natural human noises. 

Listening closely, you quickly realised that the sounds were coming from the girl cuddled closely beside you. 

As you shifted a little to get a better look at Nat, you noticed that her face was flushed, and her breathing was slightly laboured. Her body was radiating heat and she seemed to be tossing and turning uncomfortably. 

Immediately, you knew that something was wrong. You gently shook her shoulder, trying to wake her up. "Nat, Nat, wake up," you whispered softly, but she didn't stir. You shook her again, a little harder this time. "Natasha, wake up," you repeated, more urgently. 

Finally, she stirred, her eyes opening slowly. As she looked up at you, you could see the exhaustion and discomfort etched on her face. "What's wrong?" she asked hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper as she buried her face into you. 

“You were tossing and turning a lot baby,” You explained, “and you were snoring pretty loudly which is unlike you.” 

Natasha nodded weakly, still looking dazed and unwell. "I feel really hot," she murmured, pressing her hand to her forehead. 

You instinctively reached out to touch her forehead as well, and your fears were confirmed. Her skin was burning hot to the touch. "You do feel really warm baby, I’m pretty sure you’re running a temperature,” you sighed, your voice laced with concern. 

You felt a pang of worry in your chest. It sounded like she might be coming down with something, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for not noticing the signs the night before. 

Wanda stirred beside you, her eyes opening slowly. "Is everything okay?" She asked, her voice laced with concern. 

"Nat's not feeling well," You explained, your voice soft. 

Wanda's expression softened as she looked at Nat. "Oh, baby," she whispered, reaching out to stroke her hair gently, “This is why you were so tired, hm?” 

Her response was only a small nod followed by a thick set of rattling coughs which left her red and breathless. You and Wanda each exchanged worried glances as the latter rubbed began to her back whilst you stood up to go get her some water. 

Luckily in the few moments it took to get her the drink, her chest had seemed to calm down a little and Nat was now sitting up as Wanda continued to rub comforting circles along her back. 

“Drink this for me baby?” You asked, offering out the glass of water to which she accepted readily. 

Once she’d drank half, Nat leaned back against the pillows, her eyes closing as she swallowed the rest of the water down, "God, sorry," she whispered, sounding embarrassed. 

"It's not your fault," Wanda said calmly, love seeping into her tone as she took her hand, squeezing it gently, “Maybe you can try and sleep for a little bit longer though? It’s still pretty early.” 

Natasha nodded weakly, too tired to argue. She closed her eyes and tried to get comfortable, but her body felt achy and sore all over. The coughing fit had left her feeling drained, and she didn't have the energy to do anything but lie there. Both you and Wanda exchanged more worried looks before you both settled back into the bed beside her, doing your best to offer her comfort as she tried to drift off to sleep. 

She managed to sleep for another couple of hours or so but truthfully it didn’t seem to help much. It seemed in her sleep; everything had shifted to her head because when Nat woke up, she was unable to keep herself from sniffling. 

She groaned softly and tried to sit up, but her body protested, and she fell back onto the pillows with a sigh. It was clear that she was in no state to do anything. 

Wanda, who had been dozing off beside her, slowly woke up at the sound of her sniffles. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked softly, reaching out to touch Nat's forehead to check for a fever only to be met with blazing hot, sweaty skin causing her face to frown with worry. 

She softly moved some of the damp crimson curls out of Nat’s fever flushed face, “Wake Y/N up, okay?” She nodded towards to your sleeping form, “I’m gonna get you something for this fever. You’re really burning up baby.” 

Wanda quickly got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to grab some cold towels and a fever reducer. As she left, you stirred awake, feeling the movement in the bed beside you. 

"Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" You asked groggily, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision as you woke up. 

Natasha sniffled again and shook her head as she shuffled closer to you. “Not good," she croaked out, her voice sounding scratchy and hoarse. "Wanda's getting me something for the fever." 

You frowned with concern and sat up, looking at her closely. Her skin was hot to the touch, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.  

"It’ll be okay baby," you reassured her, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Just rest and let Wanda help you." 

You sat with her in silence, holding her close as Wanda returned with a bottle of Tylenol and a damp washcloth which she handed to you to dab gently along the side of her crimson cheek before wiping away the droplets of sweat that had collected along her brow. 

Natasha winced as you touched the washcloth to her skin, her body clearly sensitive to even the slightest touch. You murmured soothing words as you continued to wipe her down, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Still, she was grateful for the coolness of the cloth against her feverish skin. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, feeling the medication start to take effect. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to ruin our weekend, we were meant to go out for lunch, weren’t we?" 

You shook your head, "You didn't ruin anything, Nat. We'll just take care of you and make sure you feel better." 

Wanda sat on the other side of the bed, watching over the two of you with a soft smile. "I'm here too, you know," she teased, reaching over to ruffle your hair playfully, “How about we go settle on the sofa and watch some cringy Netflix movies?” 

You couldn't help but laugh as Wanda suggested watching cringy Netflix movies, knowing it was the perfect distraction for Natasha. However, your laughter was cut short as she suddenly sneezed, her head not having the time to move back from its position on your chest. 

“"H'htschoo!” 

"Sorry!" Natasha apologised, clearly embarrassed by her sudden outburst, sniffling frantically as she gratefully accepted the tissues Wanda had offered out for her. 

You tried to hide your grimace as you looked down at the wet mark she’d left behind on your shirt, “Thanks for that.” You forced yourself to joke as you pulled off the contaminated shirt. 

Wanda gave you a sympathetic smile before turning to Natasha, who was looking truly mortified. "Don't worry about it," she said, patting Natasha's hand reassuringly. "We'll just make sure to keep some tissues on hand." 

You wrapped a warm blanket around Natasha's shivering form, and let Wanda guide her out the living room whilst you went over to your drawers to pick out a new shirt. By the time you’d joined them on the sofa, Nat and Wanda were already cuddled beneath a thick blanket snuggled together close for comfort. They had left a spot for you, and you sank into it whilst Wanda picked out a terrible movie for all of you to mock. 

But as the day wore on, Natasha's condition worsened. Her cough became more persistent, and her nose became increasingly congested all while sending her into throat wrenching, messy fits of sneezes every few minutes. Mounds of crumpled tissues littered the area and by the evening, her throat was so sore the poor girl was barely able to speak. 

Finally, the two of you made the decision that it was time to see Bruce. Just to be on the safe side. 

“Wanda, can you go up and grab one of her hoodies? A warm one preferably.” You asked as you sent a quick text to Bruce to let him know you were coming down to his lab. 

Wanda nodded and quickly made her way upstairs to grab one of Natasha's hoodies. You helped Natasha put it on, being careful not to jostle her too much as she leaned on you for support. 

Once she’d returned, you watched as she helped Nat into the soft hoodie before making your way out of the living room and down the halls. Somewhere along the way, the three of you ran into Clint, Thor, Tony and Cap who’d clearly just finished their joint training session together. 

“Jeez, what happened to Romanoff.” Clint was first to ask the obvious question. 

You went to answer but Nat’s loud set of sneezes seemed to speak for themselves, and you held her closer, “We’re just taking her to get looked at by Bruce.” You explained and the guys offered to come with, clearly worried for the state of their friend. 

You all made your way down to the lab where Bruce was waiting for you. He greeted you with a sympathetic smile, having seen many of the Avengers in various states of illness and injury over the years. 

"Hey, Natasha. What's going on?" he asked, pulling out his stethoscope and beginning his examination. 

Natasha explained her symptoms between sneezes and coughs, and Bruce listened carefully, nodding along as she spoke.  

"It sounds like you have a pretty bad cold, Natasha," he said, after finishing his examination. "But I'm going to run a few tests just to be sure." 

Natasha nodded weakly, looking exhausted from the effort of speaking. The guys gathered around her, offering words of comfort and support as Bruce took some blood samples and swabs. 

As you waited for the results, Bruce gave Natasha some medication to ease her symptoms, and she settled down to rest on one of the lab couches, her head resting on your lap. You and Wanda both stroked her hair gently, trying to soothe her as best you could but it wasn’t long before she stirred, scrunching up her nose as she tried to get rid of the oncoming itch. 

“Hheh..Hehttshoo! Hh’itschieww! Hhi-Hh-H’tsschiew!” 

“Bless you love” Wanda whispered as she helped Nat to sit up so she could go and get her some tissues. 

Luckily it didn’t take long for the results to come through and you couldn’t help but notice the way he was staring at them in confusion. You weren’t the only to notice, however. 

Surprisingly, it was Tony who spoke up first, “Banner what’s wrong?” 

Bruce looked up from the test results, frowning. "These results are strange," he said, looking at Natasha, “I’ve never seen anything like it. There’s definitely a pathogen present, that’s for sure, but it matches nothing in our databases- The fuck?-” 

The room almost shared a collective gasp, nobody had heard the man swear before. Instantly you got up to go and look at the screen displaying the results along with Tony and the rest of the guys. 

“According to this, the origin of the pathogen isn’t from earth. It has the structure of a cold, but mutated in different ways, it’s hard to understand. I can't get my head round these readings.” He sighed in annoyance, hating the fact he couldn’t understand it. 

“How did she even catch this?” You mumbled outloud. 

”I think I know...” Banner finally concluded as something in his brain seemed to click, his eyes casting towards the only man who had the means to leave the planet, “Thor?” 

“No, no. Thats not possible. I haven’t been sick in years. I wouldn’t have come back if I was.” The God frowned; eyebrows furrowed with concern as Nat mumbled something intelligible into Wanda’s shoulder who was shushing her quietly.  

Bruce sighed a little as he ran his hand across an electronic screen which brought up a pop up showing his anatomy as he explained, “Well that's the thing about viruses, even if you’re not sick yourself, you can still pass them on through contact with the same surfaces for example. And judging on how little we know about the viruses' effects on Earth, the rate of infection is unknown meaning...” He paused and turned to the sniffling redhead, “Everyone here should avoid going out in public for the next few days, especially you Natasha - just to be safe.” 

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure that she had heard the string of sentences which had just left his mouth, but she nodded anyway. 

The rest of the Avengers agreed to stay in for a few days before filtering out of the door slowly leaving the three of you and Bruce still in the room. 

“So, she’s definitely, okay?” You asked again, wanting to be 100% sure. 

“Y/N, she’ll be fine. The virus only appears to have heightened symptoms, its duration seems to be the same, she’ll be feeling better in a week or so I think.” The Doctor nodded, but still reached down into a cupboard to grab 2 bottles of medicine – heavy duty Dayquil and Nyquil, “This should be all she needs.” 

You nodded, grateful for Bruce’s expertise and the fact that Natasha would be okay in the end. You turned to the redhead who was now being supported by Wanda as she stood. 

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed sweetheart.” Wanda murmured comfortingly as you thanked Bruce again before joining the two girls. 

Nat leaned heavily on Wanda and you as you made your way back to her room. She was shivering slightly, despite the meds, and you could feel the heat still radiating from her. As you helped her back to her room, it was obvious that both yourself and Wanda couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that she was going to be okay. You knew she was strong, but seeing her vulnerable like this was hard. 

As you walked Natasha back to the room, you helped Wanda get her settled in bed, making sure she had everything she needed before sitting down next to her. Wanda sat on the other side, holding her hand as Natasha drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the ordeal. Whilst you sat there, watching her sleep, you couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over you. You had seen Natasha take down some of the most dangerous foes, but seeing her vulnerable and sick like this made you realize just how much you cared for her. 

As you sat there, watching over your sleeping girlfriend, you couldn't help but notice Wanda begin to sniffle intermittently. It didn’t come as much of a surprise though. Afterall she was the one who’d been in the closest proximity to Natasha for the longest and it was only a matter of time before she caught it too. 

You turned to Wanda; concern etched on your face. "Are you okay baby?" you asked, already knowing the answer at heart. 

Wanda nodded weakly, trying to hold back a cough. "I'll be fine," she assured you gently, "I’m just a little tired. I think worrying about little miss sniffles so much drained me a bit.” She chuckled. 

“Alright baby,” You accepted her answer for now, “Well, how about we both try and sleep for a bit, it’s getting late afterall and I doubt Natty’s going to be awake for a while anyway.” 

The pair of you climbed into bed, there was no need to change – you'd both been in your PJ’s all day anyway.  The two of you fell into a comfortable silence once again, Wanda’s arm coming to comfortably sit over your stomach as you both listened to the sound of Nat’s snores before eventually drifting off to sleep. 

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[ocean-butch]

How is cas different from ur other girlfriends

akcjwjxia i had to wait like SIX HOURS to answer this bc of a goddamn test i had bUT OH BOY ANON AM I GONNA LOVE DOING IT alfjadjsk i just love talking about my gf i love her so much i wanna gush about her 25/8

the short answer would be basically in every way bUt imma do it part by part.

okay so, in a simplified version i’ve had relationships with people whose personalities worked well with me but who were shitty girlfriends or a good girlfriend who just didnt really fit with my personality. i’ve actually given that so much thought even before i met cass, but the point is that i met her and she was just perfect for me in both ways (technically its more complicated bc theres a bunch of logic into this that im not explaining bc my mind is weird and it would be Way too long but anyways). but ok let get into How she fits me perfectly.

first of all literally no one ever in my entire life has made me laugh as easily and genuinely as she does. im not even exaggerating, like laughing was never really A Thing for me to look for in girls bc it just never happened???? like i had fun conversations and stuff but there was never anyone that made me go “holy shit i have never laughed this much with anyone else” and we have So many inside jokes, which is a thing that i almost never have????? and i always used to wish i did bc everyone would talk about it and i’d feel like i just wasnt funny and That was the problem. and also this is really important bc its one of the things that made me realize that i liked (and eventually, came to love) her. bUT its not the only one so theres also like all these things that we like and we can talk about for HOURS like i remember when i watched infinity war and the first thing i did when i got home was call her and we talked about it for like 2 hours idek but it was great. the point is, we have a bunch of shared interests (which isnt like 100% necessary but its still really nice), wHICH LEADS ME TO: her music taste is amazing and i love that so much bc i love music With My Entire Soul and its the best thing in the fucking world (after cass & my friends and tied with the ocean) but yeah thats great too. AND i think more importantly than the last 2 things is that she is literally so fucking easy to talk to. like ever since the beginning we didnt really have that awkward phase where we run out of things to talk about and the conversation keeps dying like we never had that it just flowed so well and that was such a good feeling. another thing is also how comfortable i feel talking to her.

like i have never felt this way with any of my girlfriends bc i was always scared that i was gonna be annoying or say something Wrong and they’d start to realize i sucked and then break up with me, but shes just so kind and idk she just has this way about her that makes me feel at home and its always been there like i dont believe in love at first sight or anything like that but i swear to god the day after i met her i already felt like i could tell her anything and that was such a comforting thing and i needed that so badly at the time. i dont feel like i was able to describe this aspect very well tbh like im not doing it justice. like, she makes me feel like im not annoying at all, and like i could just randomly start ranting about anything and she would be like super invested in it, and just literally so comfortable in every sense of the word. she is my home, no ifs ands or buts, i just feel it every single time that we talk or that i simply think about her, and i have never felt this so clearly with anyone. and i think this comfort i feel with her is kinda connected with how she has always made me felt so appreciated, in a way that no one has ever done. like, i had like 2 tags about my wants and needs in a relationship, there was “my dream girl” to remind me that i shouldnt settle for anyone after i got out of a rlly bad relationship, and there was “things i wish someone would tell me” after my “first” relationship (i dont really count it bc Officially™ we only dated for a week) because my gf at the time would almost never be affectionate with me and it made me really insecure so i started that tag as a way to vent kinda. anyways my point is that i made those tags bc i would always feel super anxious in my relationships bc i never really felt loved or even wanted (aka the good personalities awful gfs relationships) i just felt like a burden and it was such a big thing for me.

okay now i’ll say that there Kinda was an exception to this before cass, because it would be unfair to say that that relationship was detrimental to my mental health, but it was still different. like, that ex did make me feel wanted most times, but not only did i still have A Lot of insecurities about the whole thing bc of some things she would say and do or not say and not do and i’d get like super uncomfortable or just sad really but also bc whenever the conversation would start to die out i was Absolutely Certain that she was gonna break up with me. it was pretty bad im not even joking. and like ofc my anxiety isnt her fault OR responsibility and like sure i still get anxious about cass sometimes but its not like that its basically just when she doesnt answer for a long time i think that something bad might have happened but even when my rude ass brain does try to tell me that she doesnt love me i KNOW that its not true, and that is a kind of peace that i have never ever had before. but anyways, so that was the good gf whose personality didnt fit mine and its weird now bc that is so obvious but i really didnt wanna believe it at the time even though i knew it wasnt gonna work out, but now its just really weird ngl (but i wont get into the why).

and now cass. wow okay let me tell you about cass. she is perfection. she is literally everything i have ever wanted AND things i didnt even know i wanted. she is everything no one else ever was and i just remembered that when we started dating in may i said that exact same sentence to abby. its just so true, she really is everything that no one else could be. because theyre not her. i’ve said this a lot of times but i really dont see how i could ever love anyone else after loving her, it just doesnt make sense to me because she really is like,, as good as it gets. there is no one better than her for me. we’re literally meant to be i s2g like when we broke up for a while i would tell everyone i wasnt really trying to move on at all bc i just hoped she would come back to me and i couldnt miss that chance. i knew she was my soulmate, although at some points i lost almost all hope (but never all) and i started thinking that maybe she was the love of my life but i wasnt the love of hers. and thats bc she really is everything ive ever dreamed of like she has all these little things that she does or say that sometimes wouldnt even mean anything to other people but to me they are So important bc theyre things ive dreamed about while my ex girlfriends ignored me akcjsjxn like, i was talking about how comfortable she feels to me and a big part of that comes from little things like the fact that even when we were just friends she would spam me when i was gone for a long time and that not only made me feel missed and appreciated but also it meant i could do that to her and it wouldnt be annoying bc she felt the same!! like, she missed me too! and me knowing that she actually Wanted to talk to me and the fact that she actually showed me she cared was super great when we started dating bc it made me feel like if i was feeling sad or insecure, i could literally just ask her to be a little more affectionate and it wouldnt feel fake bc i actually knew she cared. and you have No idea how much that meant to me bc i literally didnt know it was possible for me to feel that way. like honestly i thought it was an innate aspect of who i am that like if i asked for affection it would be meaningless? bc i’d be lowkey forcing the person to say something? but with her it felt different bc we had enough intimacy for me to feel comfortable enough to do that.

HOWEVER i never actually Had to do that bc i got insecure exactly once (1) on the first night we started dating back in may bc i didnt know how much she liked me and i was like in love with her so i thought she would think i was too much and then i told her i was sad and that i was gonna sleep and the next day when i woke up she said something along the lines of “how are you babe bc i remember you said you were sad last night and i couldnt stop thinking about it bc i want you to feel good all the time” and thats something so small but wow it just meant so much to me bc i would cry and beg any fucking force in the universe to make my last ex do Anything At All to try to make me Not Sad and it would be awful and i would feel so so unloved and then cass just said that and something clicked in me and i never doubted her feelings to an actual Meaningful extent while we’ve been together anymore (like ofc i get insecure sometimes and especially when we broke up, but while we have been dating ive never gotten like actually Sad™ specifically bc i wasnt sure she liked me) but it gets even better because some of the things she does are so so special that i never even imagined them like shes literally unreal, i literally never thought someone like her existed and its just so wild to me that i get to be with her.

and i know im saying a bunch of cliches but i mean it all so much like i remember when i was dating one of my exes i was learning her first language but she didnt try to learn mine and i really wished she would bc i just always loved the idea that someone would do that for me?? (and she was like the good gf so yknow,, just how that relationship literally did Not even compare to cass) and guess what yes cass is learning portuguese and its the cutest thing ever btw bUt the point is she does all the little things ive ever wanted in a partner (i literally have a post with a list of things i appreciate in a partner and she does all of them!! well, the ones that arent like irl or smth) also i literally have a draft in this blog that is a list of cute things cass has done/said that means a lot to me personally but i didnt post it yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and like theres just so so many things that i havent talked about, like how im not even sure if i was ever in love with anyone of them anymore because what i feel for cass is just so different and so much more, or like how cass actually makes me want to try to get better, which ive never actually wanted before bc it always seemed to scary, like she literally makes me wanna be not only alive but also happy bc she makes me feel like i deserve it. she has been such a good influence on me and my mental health and thats so important and its the first time someone has been this good for me.

but anyways the point is that cass is right for me in every single way like she really is my other half she literally just is everything that she is and thats how shes different from my ex girlfriends.

[celestialrry]

stood up

3.5k

hello everyone!!!! I've been awol for literally weeks because i had absolutely NO motivation to write but i finally finished this piece ˊᗜˋ so YAY. ALSOO thank you for following me, liking, and reblogging my pieces (it encourages me somuchsothankyouireallyappreciateit-- and remember reblogging really helps us writers :))) )  here’s a hug for all ur patience and feel free to send me asks or requests i love talking to you guys! ε(♡'-')з

summary: Harry keeps standing Y/N up. (request from @ballerinrry! thank u love)

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex, angsty but with a happy ending cause for some reason i can never let them end on a bad note

Y/N was excited.

It had been a while since Harry had asked her to go on a date, it was always the other way around recently. She couldn’t blame him though, Y/N knew just how busy Harry always was, and it wasn’t like he was purposefully not asking her to go do things, he just had a lot on his plate.

That’s what she kept telling herself anyways. 

It’s what she told herself when it had been 2 weeks since they had even eaten a meal together, and given the fact that just a few months ago Harry had come back to London for a while, that was rare. So, Y/N asked him to grab lunch on a Saturday while they were lying in bed together, and when he agreed, but failed to show up, leaving Y/N sitting at the cafe, her lips morphed into a frown and her eyes not focusing on the phone in front of her, she told herself he was simply booked up with meetings and studio time and such. 

Thats what he told her when he got into bed that night to apologize for accidentally standing her up. She forgave him, of course, and suggested they could just get dinner the next week. He agreed, even walked around to his calander her to show her he was marking the date off in his calendar with a heart, her first initial, and 7:00 PM etched into the little box with red sharpie. 

So, the week passed with quick kisses of good mornings and good nights, and while Harry was gone Y/N had on a black dress she had been excited to wear for a while now, with those little mini silver heels and a coat strung over her shoulders as she sat on her couch waiting for Harry to swing by to pick her up. She shot him a text that simply asked “You otw? xx”

He was not.

It took about 30 minutes of waiting on their couch to realize he was standing her up, again. And it took until the next morning for Harry to see her text (his phone had been on do not disturb while he was at the studio and he ended up spending the night at Sarah and Mitch’s after a few beers), and for the guilt to seep through his veins. 

He apologized, again. And Y/N forgave him, again. 

Only until it got to the point where Y/N no longer remembered the amount of times Harry had stood her up, for being at the studio, or sleeping after a meeting, or simply just not paying attention to his phone, she knew there was a problem. 

Harry was fully aware of the problem too. He knew that this was no way to ever treat a partner, and if someone was doing this to him, he’d dump them�� well, he’s never been one to end a relationship unless it was necessary, so that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the principle of the thing. 

Which is why when he got home one day around 11 PM, gave her a kiss to the forehead after she sat up in their bed to give him a hug, and a soft  “Can we talk?” escaped her lips, he knew he had to fix this. So he asked her if they could talk over dinner the next night, he just wanted to sleep but also wanted to fix things with his girl, asking her if she was free of course, before telling her he’s gonna make a reservation at that nice restaurant the two of them used to go to quite often, because “it’s been a while since I’ve taken my favorite girl out”.

A grin broke out on her face because he had asked her! And if Harry was planning it, there’s no way he’d cancel or stand her up. 

 So yeah, Y/N was excited.

She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, and something akin to a what she thinks a rainbow would feel like running through her veins. It had only been a few months since she’d last been on a date with her boyfriend of almost 2 years and a half in person, and she was going to make the most of it. Because after this date, things would change. They’d spend more time together again and it would be like this little bump (that neither had acknowledged) never happened.

Y/N did, well, everything to prepare. Took a long shower, shaved, put on that coconut lotion Harry likes— he tended to dig his face in her neck when he smelled it while holding her—, brushed her teeth more than 3 times, dug in her closet to find that one patterned soft purple dress she bought ages ago but never had a change to wear it, until now, put on those really cute heels Harry said he liked once (“Looks like something you’d wear on a runway pet, I love ‘em.”), and even styled her hair differently than normal.

He had told her he would swing by at 8 on the dot after the studio, and soon enough, it was 8, with no sign from the man who made the promise himself. Y/N thought maybe there was traffic, he was just running late, texted him a quick, “Can’t wait to see you!! xxx” and put her phone on the coffee table, waiting on their couch. 

8 turned to 9, 9 turned to 10, 10 turned to 11, and soon it was midnight. Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever felt more empty than how she felt then, walking to their shared room of a year, slipping off her heels and tossing them towards the closet, as well as pulling her dress over herself and letting it fall to the floor behind her, grabbing that one t-shirt she always wears when she needs comfort (which just happened to an extra 2018 Live on Tour shirt Harry had laying around that she snatched just 3 months into them dating), and flopping into bed.  

She couldn’t fall asleep, and instead spent her time curled up in their bedsheets, a steady flow of tears making their way down her blush covered cheeks.

。:°ஐ

Harry usually didn’t make mistakes.

Sure, he had his moments, grabbing the wrong coffee off the counter when his name was called at the cafe, forgetting to text Jeff that he actually couldn’t make it to a meeting that was scheduled in a few hours. Just little things, things that didn’t matter that much, and could always be fixed. He didn’t usually make mistakes that weren’t easy to fix. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.

Until, he was.

Harry loved Y/N. He loved having her around, loved spending time with her, loved loving on her, loved kissing her, loved touching her, loved the way she went about almost everything. He was so in love with her, that hurting her was out of the question. He never wanted to be the one to make her cry, make her bottom lip quiver before the tears rushed out like he’d seen many times before, due to movies, his songs (which as sadistic as it sounds was an ego builder to have someone so close to him so affected by the music he wrote), her school work, or even her friends that weren’t being so nice.

In fact, he was so in love with her, even being so afraid of commitment (it took him over a year of them dating to ask her to move in), all he wanted to do was blurt out those 4 dreaded words. “Will you marry me?” It was a bond for life, and he was terrified of that, but with Y/N all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his living days with her.

When Harry had come back from being in L.A. for so long and finally being in the same city as his girlfriend back at their home, all they did was spend time together. Every time he saw Y/N all he wanted to do was say those 4 words that he hadn’t even fully come to terms with himself. It was dangerous, and Harry’s self control when it came to Y/N was lacking, so he simply did was every normal person would do in his situation.

He stood her up. 

Many more times than he could count, and of course he felt like the shittiest person in the world— shittiest boyfriend in the world—but at least now she can’t possibly be under the impression that he wanted to marry her, which is what he wanted. Or thought he wanted, until Sarah called him up one day after he had stood Y/N up for dinner the night before and told him off. Told Harry just how fucking terrible he made Y/N feel, how unwanted she thought she was, how she felt like they were loosing their relationship, and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. (Of course Y/N had sobbed to Sarah about it over the phone while she was drunk off the wine she opened 40 minutes after Harry said he would be there, so she really didn’t even remember the conversation).

And later that day Harry had come home, heard her wavering voice asking if they could talk, and decided in his head he would tell her how he felt, how sorry he was, and how he wanted to be with her forever and love her forever if she allowed him. He had a few expectations for their dinner, that Y/N would probably tell him how he’s made her feel, and Harry would apologize, tell her why he did it, explain he thought it was no excuse, then tell her he plans on marrying her (obviously not proposing just yet, but finally bringing up the conversation they had never had even though they were in a serious committed relationship) and they’d go back home, have the most amazing sex ever, and forget about the whole thing. 

What Harry didn’t expect was to get a call from Jeff around 5 asking him to come to the studio to fix few vocals, then end up nailing down 2 songs in one night, go to a bar with the band to celebrate, get drunk, then pass out at Mitch and Sarahs flat. 

But that’s what happened, according to Mitch, who woke Harry up the very next morning. 

“Good morning man, wakey wakey,” Mitch’s teasing tone echoed through Harry’s (what felt like full of vodka) brain as he groaned and squinted his eyes. “Why are you waking me up at this hour in the morning?” Harry asked drearily, sighing and simultaneously regretting last night as a whole because the last thing he wanted to do while hungover was be up before at least 9 AM.

“We’ve gotta go to meet with Jeff about tour in like a hour, H” Mitch stated .

At Mitch’s words Harry sat up on their couch, eyes wide in fear. “Wait mate, I thought tha’ meeting was on Wednesday.”

“It is Wednesday H, god how drunk did we let you get last night…” Mitch said, beginning to recount some of Harry’s antics the night before. Harry however, couldn’t hear a thing with the blood pumping through his ears. If today was Wednesday, that meant yesterday was Tuesday, and he went and got trashed at a bar with his friends Tuesday night when— when he was supposed to be on a date with Y/N, when he was supposed to confess his intentions, when he was supposed to apologize for standing her up over and over, yet instead he went and did it again.

Now this, this was a mistake.

“…H. H. Harry? Are you there?” Mitch’s voice came back into focus and Harry shook his head. “I- fuck, I was supposed to take Y/N out last night.” Harry said, his voice trembling.

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you, it’s just one night.” Mitch tried to make Harry feel better. He knew Y/N was a very forgiving person, she would get over this in no time.

“No, she won’t. I-I’ve stood her up for the past month and a half, Mitch.”

At these words, Mitch stands straight up  making pained eye contact with Sarah in the kitchen who was overhearing most of this conversation with her eyes wide. She had no idea it was this bad. “Month and a half? I thought it was just that one time a few weeks ago, Harry what the hell is wrong with you?” Harry simply shook his head and didn’t reply. He had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her. “I-fuck, I don’t know Mitch!” Harry raised his voice. “I need to see her and apologize, now.” Harry said, standing up and rushing over to the front door and slipping on his shoes. 

“This meeting is mandatory Harry, as much as I want you to see her too, she’d probably still asleep, and I don’t think this can be solved in under an hour.” Mitch said calmly, already knowing Harry was close to walking out his door. Harry stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. Either go apologize to his girlfriend, or prioritize himself over her again. 

“We can do it another day, I’m sorry, but I have to go see her, tell Jeff I feel sick.” And he walked out without another word.

。:°ஐ

The morning after Harry stood Y/N up again was brutal. 

She stayed up all night, replaying moments with Harry in her head, analyzing if he wanted to be there with her, wondering if maybe he felt like he had to stay with her out of pity. It was torture, and the pain seemed to turn into numbness as time went by, and eventually the sun came up, and she stayed in bed, her motivation lost.

A loud crash and “Fuck!” woke her up, swollen eyes fluttering open to the invasive noise. Y/N furrowed her brows, her mind connecting everything that happened yesterday and unfortunately reminding her of the unbearable pain she went through the night before. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up and flung her legs out of her bed sheets that had been flung off the bed in the middle of the night.  She began grumbling to herself as she made her way downstairs, ready to tell Harry off for making so much noise.

Her mouth stopped moving, and instead remained in limbo as her eyes met Harry’s. His mouth opened to speak, but his words were caught in his throat as he saw the state she was in. It was when her mouth pressed into a line that he could begin talking. “Y/N, baby, please I know you don’t wanna see me or talk t’me right now but I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. So so sorry, it was an accident, I went t’ the studio to fix a few things then got hung up on the songs and by the time we went to celebrate I completely lost track of time, and I was too drunk to drive home so I crashed at Mitch’s.”

Her mouth fell open at his words. Everything was happening too fast. Hearing that he stood her up to drink at a fucking bar to celebrate himself, then coming home and accidentally knocking over a glass in their kitchen (which she put together was the crash earlier after seeing the shards of broken glass on the floor) frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any longer, and Harry had stopped talking after realizing what he just admitted to her. Without another glance, instead of looking at Y/N’s tear stained face, all he saw was her back, walking up the stairs to their room. 

“Fuck,” He said to himself before following her up the pink stairs. “Y/N, love wait-please, I’m so sorry, I just need to talk to you, I need to explain myself, please.” He begged as she shut their bedroom door in his face, his voice turning into a desperate whine at the end. 

。:°ஐ

It’s been 3 days since then, and she hasn’t spoken to him. He would leave in the mornings, kissing her forehead and mumbling an “I love you” and telling her exactly what time he’d be home, before leaving and coming back on time to find an empty plate in the sink and her lying in their bed, whether it be reading, scrolling on her phone, or typing on her laptop. He would apologize many times, reaching his hand out for hers and she would simply situate herself in their bed and lay down, back turned to him. 

Harry just couldn’t take it anymore. 

It was when she had finally let him kiss her forehead goodnight that he decided to take his chance. “Y/N.” He spoke softly, with no response or anything to indicate she heard him. “Baby, can we please talk- or I’ll talk and you listen, I just- I really need to say some things.” 

She was still faced away from him when he leaned against their headboard and he decided to keep going. 

“I- um. I’m sure you know how sorry I am, but I really am- sorry I mean. Not just for tonight but for every other time I’ve stood you up. I’m so sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me, and how much the things you do matter to me.”

It was then that she slowly sat up next to him and looked at him, eyes begging him to continue. He blushed at her intense eye-contact that he had barely gotten over the past few days and took a breath, opting to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“We’ve been together for 2 and almost a half years, which is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s no excuse to treat you this way, but I had just been thinking about how things progress even further than now,” He coughs. “Which is marriage, and when I finally came home, all I wanted to do was ask you to marry me- I don’t- m’not proposing right now, I just- I got really scared because wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone is crazy to me,

I’ve never thought that way about anyone else until you, I didn’t even really want to get married before you, and I started to distance myself before I ended up telling you this, but obviously that blew up in my face.” He chuckled a bit, locking eyes with her unreadable ones for a moment and lifting a hand to run through his hair. “What I’m trying to say, is that I love you, so so much, and I plan on marrying you— obviously if you want to too, of course— and I’m so sorry for trying to make you think that I didn’t care about you anymore or love you any less, because it’s the complete opposite of that.”

His eyes were watery now, as he started down at his interlocked fingers, and his eyes widened when her hand was gently placed over his own. “Harry,” Y/N began. “Look at me, please.” 

His head lifted to see her facing him, her brows knitted and a small smile on her face. “I forgive you, okay? I could tell you were kind of scared of commitment when we first started dating, and I wish I could say your reason for standing me up is surprising but it’s not.” They both chuckled a bit at this. “I- I’m still upset at you, I need you to know that, because 2 months of thinking the love of your life is avoiding you doesn’t feel all too great, so you suck for that,” she said, planting a quick kiss to his cheek which quickly turned pink. “But Harry, even if you asked me to marry you a year ago I would have said yes. I love you, so much, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you as well. I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment, it was… unnecessary and immature. So, thank you for apologizing. I love you.” She confessed again.

“S’okay, I deserved it, and I love you too. Maybe even more. So um, we’re okay?” Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 

She nodded with a smile and pulled him into a much needed hug and pulled away only for him to bring her into an even more needed kiss. “If you ever try to pull that shit again, I’m breaking up with you.” She laughed and he tackled her into the sheets hiding his face in her neck.

“Duly noted, love. Duly noted.”

[blackmissfrizzle]

Just Right (1)

Part 2

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!plussized!reader

Summary: If you’ve seen Just Wright then you know what this story is about if you haven’t then it’s about football Angel falling for his physical therapist.

Chapter Warning:  Football AU. You’re gonna hate Angel. And sorry for the Adelita fans (myself included) she’s a bitch in this story.

A/N: I have one more chapter to write and the series will be completed. I don’t know how many chapters though. I gotta figure out the flow.

A/N (2): Shout out to the lovely @starrynite7114​ for encouraging me and helping me write this story. It wouldn’t be possible without her. Love you, girlie!

If you like what you read here’s my masterlist and if you want to be tagged here’s the link to my taglist.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Gif credit: @angels-reyes​

The past couple of months were surreal. A chance encounter with famed football star, Angel Reyes led to an unlikely friendship. Then, it took an unexpected turn when he began dating and eventually became engaged to your family friend, Adelita. But the most unbelievable was when you became his physical therapist after a nasty knee injury that could potentially end his career.

Adelita asked you to do the job because she didn’t trust the therapist that his team had hired even though she was the best in the business. According to Adelita, the woman was out to steal Angel from her. That’s why when you came to Angel’s mansion for work for the day you were in for the shock of your life.

“What are you doing here?” EZ, Angel’s equally famous and talented baseball player brother asked while running down the stairs.

You looked at EZ warily. He’s been nothing but kind to you this entire time. “To work. Did I do something wrong?”

EZ ticked his head at you in disbelief. “Don’t play the innocent card,” he scoffed staring you down.

“Innocent? What?” Clicking of shoes alerted you of someone’s presence. Looking up you saw Felipe coming downstairs. “Mr. Felipe, what is he talking about?”

Felipe stayed on the staircase as he talked to you. “I wanna believe you, preciosa, but you’re too close to her not to know.”

Adelita. She was the only person who wasn’t there. “Adelita? What did she do?”

“Like you don’t know.” EZ accused with venom you didn’t know he had in him. He shoved the letter in your hand.

Dear Angel,

I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. To see you like this is hurting me. I wish you the best of luck.

-Adelita

Felipe and EZ both read your face as you processed the letter, and it was then they knew you were just as surprised as them.

“My god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Is Angel ok?” You began trekking up the stairs, but EZ stopped you. “EZ, I didn’t know! Now move.” You tried to push him, but it was like pushing a wall.

“I know, I know, I know.” He repeated while blocking you. “But he,” he pointed towards Angel’s room. “Won’t. At least not right now. Give him some time.”

EZ was right. Angel was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to you. Running down the stairs you went for the front door. “Where are you going now?”

“To the one person I’m gonna make talk to me.”

Rarely did you use the key to Adelita’s apartment, respecting her space. But fuck her space now.

“Addie!” You yelled, running to her room. “What the?” She was fixing her makeup like she was going out.

“¿Mande?” She asked putting on her mascara. “That’s it? What? You have nothing to say?”

Adelita didn’t even spare you a glance as she went to get her heels. “Y/N, you’re not making any sense. What are you talking about?”

Oh, this bitch. She knew exactly what you were talking about. Adelita is far from dumb. “How are you gonna leave Angel? And like that? And give me no heads up.”

“Lo siento!”

“You’re sorry? Adelita,” you groaned. “You know better than that!”

She finally slowed down and looked at you. “I’m really am. It’s just,” she sighed and looked out the window to avoid your eyes. Adelita was a guarded person and didn’t let anyone see her vulnerabilities, even you, her childhood friend. “He would’ve tried to talk me out of it if I done it in person.”

“Duh! You two are engaged, Addie! What changed?”

“His career!”

“Wow, Adelita. Just wow. I didn’t take you for a gold-digging bitch.”

“I’m not a gold digger! I just can’t help and bring attention to the cause with a washed up has been. Mi gente deserve better.” Adelita always been about helping the people of Mexico because of her dual citizenship. But her dedication to it made her single-minded and she tended to ice everyone out. Typical Adelita. Screwing everyone over to get what she wants.

“Anything else?” She asked when you didn’t respond to her.

Saying nothing you shook your head and left her be. There was no changing her mind.

Work consisted of avoiding Angel. You stayed in your guest room and only ventured out when you knew that Angel was in his room. But that didn’t matter, because you could always hear Mr. Felipe and EZ beg him to come out of his room.

One day you were brave enough to go into his room, only to get your feelings hurt.

“Angel I know this hard, but you gotta get up man. Adelita was fucked up-”

“Are you my therapist or my physical therapist?” His words were colder than the frigid weather in Alaska.

Lowly you answered him while looking anywhere but directly in his eyes. “Physical therapist.”

Getting up for the first time for the day, Angel crowded your space until your back hit the door. “Then be that and nothing else.” He twisted the doorknob, letting you out and slamming the door closed once you were out.

Mr. Felipe stared at you with the sad puppy dog eyes he passed down to his son. “He didn’t mean it. He’s lashing out at everyone.”

“I know, but it still hurts.” You patted Felipe on his back and went to your room. Even if Angel wouldn’t let you rehabilitate with keeping himself cooped up, you still had work to do. You spent all your work hours studying Angel’s injury and reading up on the latest research to devise a treatment plan. Everything was coming together. All you needed was the actual client to show up and participate.

The day after your little debacle with Angel, he got an unexpected visitor. “Coming,” you yelled down the hall at the whoever was knocking on the door. Swinging open the door, you almost passed out. It was Rio Sanchez, star player of Angel’s rival team.

“Um, um, um, hi!” You finally managed to greet him. You wiped down your sweaty hands on your leggings and shook his hand (which by the way were ginormous). He was even more beautiful in person. His bright smile was blinding and sorta made you weak in the knees.

“Hi, so you Reyes’ new maid or something?” He eyed you up and down, hoping you were the maid and not Angel’s girlfriend. Even all sweaty, you were too beautiful for Angel.

“Nah, I’m the physical therapist. Umm, come on in and I’ll get Angel.” Just as Rio came into the foyer Angel came down the stairs. “What the fuck are you doing here?”  Angel tugged on your wrist and moved you behind him. He didn’t appreciate the predatory stare Rio was giving you.

Rio chuckled at Angel’s possessiveness. “Man, I was just checking on you. I had to make sure you’re getting healthy, but you look like shit.”

Angel eyed him suspiciously. “You really want me to believe that you want me to get better?”

“Yeah man.” Rio lightly jabbed him in the shoulder. “Me winning that Superbowl ring ain’t as fun without you on the field. So, mama,” he looked at you over Angel’s shoulder. “Get him better and then,” he pulled out a business card and handed it to you. “Give me call.” Rio gave you a goodbye wink and left.

Angel stood there heated. That little punk really came to his house and challenged him.

“You done moping around and ready to wipe the smirk off that smug bitch’s face or you gonna let him bitch you out in your home?”

He finally turned to you and graced you with a smile you haven’t seen in days. “Let’s get to work.”

“You sure?” You cocked your head to the side. “Because you’re gonna hate me more than these past couple of days.”

Angel knew he deserved that little dig. He’s been a little shit to you. “I’m sorry for being a douchebag, but there’s no possible way I could hate you.”

Laughter bubbled up until you were full on cackling like a Disney villain. “Oh, we’ll see.”

Tagging: @ourlittlesecretsoveragain​ @starrynite7114​ @sambucky​8 @mygirlrenee​ @richonne4life​ @readsalot73​ @chaneajoyyy​ @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat​ @jassydwill11​ @otomefromtheheart​ @xsweetdellzx​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @angrythingstarlight​ @brattyfics​ @lovebennycolon​ @langiinspirations​ @chibsytelford​ @trulysuccubus​ @spookys-girl​ @sesamepancakes​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @fvckthisbxtchup​ @theartisticqueen​ @vsfavs​ @angelreyesgirl​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @woahitslucyylu​ @blessedboo​ @cherryblossomgirl20

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 5/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 5: We have an Accord

“What do you mean you lost him?” Sir Henry watched from his hiding spot behind a stone column as his uncle spoke with the Captain who had burst into his room.

“I saw him on the staircase during the dance, I went after him, and he vanished from sight.”

“Dammit.” The King cursed. “The good news is that the diamond is still in the place it was left. So, he was unable to take what he came for.”

“If he was unable to claim his prize, he will return. He will need shelter in town, my men and I will remain in port, seek information at the tavern. He may have won this round, but I do not intend to lose the game.” The Captain said confidently.

“See to it that you don’t. We can’t afford any distractions.”

“Was your sister able to choose a husband tonight?”

He groaned. “She did not. I do not understand the hesitancy of women. The Duke would make a fine husband, yet she continues to search the realm for something that she may never find.”

“What is it that eludes the Princess?” He asked.

“What every woman wants of course, true love.”

“And she has not found this with your friend the Duke?” He questioned with a laugh.

“I had thought she might, his Grace is a good man, he would make an excellent husband but my sister…”

“What do you speak of your sister?” The men turned toward the approaching voice, the Captain’s heart stopping as the blonde woman came into view. “It is unkind to talk about a woman behind her back.” Killian felt his mouth standing agape and tried to will it to close. The woman from his dance earlier was Princess Emma?

“I was simply saying that my sister was the star of the ball this evening.” The King said with a knowing glance to the other man.

“You have not yet introduced me to your guest.” She mused, turning toward him, and offering him her hand. Killian took it gently, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles.

“Captain Killian Jones.” He announced, though he knew quite well that she was aware of his name as he had given it to her earlier.

“Captain Jones.” She touched the tip of her finger to her chin. “No, I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.” She said without a care in the world.

Killian smirked as she stepped away from him, a slight grin pressed to her mouth. “I must take my leave.” He said suddenly. “I have urgent business to attend to.” The King returned his nod. “It was a pleasure to meet you Princess Emma.” He bowed in her direction. “Until we meet again.”

He slipped from the room, taking one last glance over his shoulder at the blonde woman that had his heart in his throat.

“Sister, tell me you’ve interrupted me to announce your decision to marry the Duke.”

“I have made a decision.” She paused. “I have decided that I will not marry the Duke.” She announced without fanfare.

“Sister.” He chided. “Why not? Did he not please you tonight?”

“He was pleasant, I suppose, but I met many men tonight. Perhaps one of them is…”

“Not the true love thing again! Emma, I told you, it is time that Henry has a man in his life.”

“He has many men in his life. You, William…”

“His jester does not count as a man in his life.”

“He most certainly does. He’s the best friend Henry has ever had.”

The King sat down unceremoniously on his throne. “Sister, I want to ensure you are taken care of. This means you must marry.”

She sighed. “I will. I promise.” She spun around in her dress. “There was a man tonight that I danced with…” She bit her lip.

“A man, what man?”

“A man.” She restated. “He was handsome, and charming, and very intriguing.”

“Well, you must decide soon, or else I’m going to accept the Duke’s offer.”

Princess Emma rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the room. There was no way she was going to marry the Duke, not when there was a chance for adventure and intrigue in figuring out who Captain Killian Jones was and what his business was in her realm.

Henry was pleased with the way the party had turned out. Even though his mother spent most of her evening talking to Graham, he couldn’t ignore the way that Killian’s eyes seemed to find her from across the room after returning from the basement. His mother had even lifted the ban on his visits with their neighbor and Henry found himself splitting his time between building Legos with Will and stopping in to provide a treat to Smee after dinner.

However, when he knocked this evening, he was met by another man at the door. “Evening, lad. If you’re selling something, I don’t live here.”

Henry narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. “Who are you? You aren’t Killian?”

The man appeared surprised to hear Killian’s name. “I’m Liam, who might you be?”

“I’m Henry, Killian’s friend.”

“Are you now?” He said with a laugh. “Well in that case, please do come in.” The man stepped away from the door and Henry bounded into the apartment. “Brother, you have a friend here to see you.”

Henry turned toward the man. “You’re Killian’s big brother. Wow, it’s great to meet you.”

“You seem to know about me, and yet I know nothing about you.” He seemed to question his brother as he entered the room.

“Henry, here to see Smee?” Killian interrupted. “Liam, this is my neighbor, Henry.”

Henry held the treat up high for the dog, rewarding him when he sat as he was supposed to. “Are you a Captain too?”

“Liam’s in the Navy. He’s a Lieutenant onboard the USS Delaware, it’s a submarine.”

Henry’s eyes grew wide. “You mean you go under the water?”

“Aye, you never know what’s lurking beneath.” Liam responded with an eerie grin.

“That’s really cool. Did you ever go in a submarine?” He turned toward Killian.

“I prefer to Captain my ship above the water.”

“So, Henry, do you live next door with your mom and dad?” Liam asked.

“I live with my mom; my dad lives across town.”

The man glanced at his brother. “Is that so?”

“Speaking of your mom, isn’t it your dinner time kid?” Killian scolded. “I don’t want her coming over here yelling at me again.” He laughed.

“We’re having tacos tonight.” He stood up and patted the dog on the head. “It was nice meeting you, Liam. See you tomorrow, Killian.”

“Talk to you later, kid.”

~*~

Killian closed the door behind Henry and turned to see his brother staring at him with a smirk on his face. “What?”

“So, you’re hanging out with a ten-year-old now?”

“He’s eleven, and he’s a nice kid.”

“Are you sleeping with his mom?”

“God, Liam, of course not.” He exclaimed. “Why do you accuse me of sleeping with every woman I meet?”

“Don’t you?” He laughed.

“No.” He argued, walking back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

“Are you still seeing Belle?”

“She’s around, yes.” He knew where this conversation was leading.

“Interesting, it’s been what, six months? That’s some sort of record for you.”

Killian groaned. “I know where you’re going with this. She’s not my girlfriend. I meant what I said that night, I’m not interested in a relationship.”

“Interested or not, you’re already in one. So, if you don’t actually want to be with this woman, you need to end things before she gets hurt.”

“No one is getting hurt; we’re just having a little fun. That’s all.”

“Suit yourself, brother. But one of these days, you’re going to have to break that promise or you’re going to end up alone.”

~*~

“And he works underwater all day!” Henry exclaimed excitedly.

“How chu u wrk under watur?” Will spat, his mouth full of food.

“Would you not speak with your mouth full! How old are you?” Emma scolded the man.

“Sorry, Ems, how does he work under water?”

Henry laughed, reaching across the table to grab a slice of bread. “He’s a Lieutenant on a submarine. Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s very cool. I had no idea he had a brother.”

“I did, he told me about him before. He lives in Maine, where Killian used to live before he had to move.”

Emma chuckled, sharing a glance with Will. “He told you all of that.”

“He tells me loads of things when we hang out. The other day, he was doing his laundry and singing. He said it’s a sailor thing to sing when you’re sad or melon collies.” He scrunched up his nose as he said the word.

“Melancholy.” Emma corrected.

“You guys should invite him to your happy hour tomorrow night. He doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends around here, except for Belle, of course.” He paused then sat up straighter. “Or me.”

“That’s a bloody good idea, kid. The more the merrier.”

“What did I tell you about using that word around Henry.” Emma whispered.

“His eleven not six! Would you rather I used the F word?” Will groaned.

“Fruit?” Henry responded, looking at her with a confused glance.

“No.” Emma said shortly.

“Oh, that word.” Henry laughed. “I don’t think you should use that word. My friend Roland said it in class the other day and our teacher sent him to the office, he didn’t come back to class for an hour.”

Emma watched the boys on the other side of the table making jokes and laughing throughout dinner, it made her heart settle seeing Henry smiling. She had hoped that he would get past his initial disappointment from his father bailing on him for a month so he could go chase some ass in Barbados.

While she had been wary of him disturbing and bothering the neighbor, her son seemed quite taken with the man. Ever since the barbeque Henry had lost himself in his writing, spending all of his time jotting down notes in the notebook that he thought he was hiding from her.

She would never read any of it without his permission, but her teacher had told her that he was a talented writer with a very creative mind, so she tried to give him his space to allow his imagination to grow.

As long as he was happy, Emma was content to give him the wings he needed to fly.

“So, do you want me to invite Jones, or would you prefer to drop by yourself.” Will wiggled his eyebrows at her and she slapped him on the shoulder.

“What’s are you trying to say?”

“Just saying, he’s an attractive man, a fact that hasn’t escaped your attention.”

“I have Graham, I don’t need an attractive man.” She bit her lip. “I’m not saying that Graham isn’t attractive. He is. Very. God why do you always get me so worked up?”

“That’s what I thought.” He stepped into the hall and headed to his door. “I’ll let you invite him. Would hate for you to miss a chance to stare into those baby blue eyes.”

“I hate you.” He turned around and gestured toward her shirt.

“Maybe open a button or two, ya sexy git.”

Emma extended her middle finger toward her friend as he closed the door in her face. Turning she looked down the hall and exhaled loudly. Before she could head toward his door, it opened and a man stepped into the hall, turning right toward her.

He was tall with lighter hair than Killian’s, and he didn’t carry that same devil-may-care attitude that her neighbor seemed to have at all times. Emma cursed under her breath as he approached, and she stood rooted in her place like a statue.

“Evening.” He said with a smile.

“Hello, you must be Liam. My son hasn’t stopped talking about the man who works under the water since he got home.”

The man’s grin grew wide on his face. “Henry, right?”

“That’s him, about this high…” She held her hand up in front of her. “Loads of questions.”

He laughed. “He is very inquisitive.”

“I’m Emma.” She held out her hand and he took it with a firm handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you Emma. Glad to see my little brother has some friendly faces around him.”

“Well, we are one big happy family here at Skyline Apartments.” She internally cursed herself for sounding like a complete idiot.

“It was very nice to meet you, Emma. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He raised his eyebrow and then nodded at her as he headed to the elevator.

Emma waited until the elevator doors closed before turning down the hall toward Killian’s door. Standing in front of it, she brushed her fingers through her hair, stopping at the collar of her shirt. Without thinking she undid the top button, pushing her chest out.

What the hell was she doing? She didn’t come here to flirt with the man, she had a boyfriend!

For the hell of it she unbuttoned the second button, shaking her head in disbelieve at herself and knocked on the door.

The door opened quickly, “Did you forget something?” He paused, his eyes trailing from her face down her body before snapping back up to meet her eyes. “Uh sorry, Swan. Henry’s not here.”

“No, yes, I mean, I know.” She said with a slight fluster. “I’m here to ask if you wanted to go to a bar. Tomorrow.” The smirk on his face started to grow. “I mean for happy hour, with my friends, not like you and me or a date or anything like that because I have a Grant…Graham.” The words spilled out of her mouth as she reached up to grab a lock of her hair, spinning it between her fingers.

“Are you asking me out, Swan?” He teased.

“To happy hour, Jones. You can bring Brittany.”

“Belle.” He stated with an arrogant chuckle.

“Sure, bring her too. 7pm, Howl at the Moon on High Street.” Turning quickly, she walked away, she was sure her face was a special color of red. As she got to her door, she turned the handle but sadly realized the door was locked. She glanced back toward Killian’s apartment and saw him leaning against his door watching her in amusement.

“Door’s locked.” She said absentmindedly, knocking on the door. When Henry didn’t answer she turned and knocked on Will’s door. “Just gonna check on Will.” She hollered toward Killian who was currently staring at her with apparent glee. The door opened and Will looked at her with a grin.

“Back so soon? My God did you take off the whole shirt.” Emma shoved him backward into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against the door and banging her head backwards. “So…”

“Don’t say anything.” She warned with her finger in his face.

~*~

Killian climbed the plank of the Jolly Roger, exhausted and feeling slightly defeated by this Baelfire man. As soon as he approached the ladder, he heard a noise behind him. Turning he saw his first mate standing behind him.

“You left early.”

“I tried to find you. What happened tonight?”

Killian stared at his boots. “He was there. I saw him. And lost him.” He growled.

“Did he get the diamond?”

“No. But he won’t leave without it.”

“So, we’re staying.”

“Aye, I will not let this Swan Thief best me. Tomorrow I will go into town and inquire about this Baelfire man.” He turned toward his quarters. “Get some sleep, French. Tomorrow we play a new game.”

“Aye Captain.”

He closed his cabin door with a thud, kicking the ladder at the end of his bunk. He had not been beat in a long time. Yet this man got away from him. He wouldn’t leave until he had this Baelfire in irons.

He heard a creak outside his door and reached for his cutlass. Blowing out the candle at his desk, he creeped toward his door, hiding in the shadows.

The door squeaked as it slowly slid against the wooden planks, a dark figure stepped into the room, peering into the expanse of his cabin. Killian stepped forward, wrapping an arm around the neck of the intruder, and putting his blade to their neck. “It’s bad form to enter a man’s room uninvited.”

“Don’t hurt me.” The woman squealed and Killian dropped his resolve for a second, long enough for the lass to turn on her heels, a dagger sticking into his side.

“Well played, love.” He growled, whipping his arm forward and grabbing the dagger from her hand, spinning her in his arms until he had her pinned to his desk. Reaching up he grabbed the hood from her cloak and yanked it from her head. The moonlight shone on her face, a smirk growing across his lips. “You’re a long way from the castle, Princess.”

“I was just curious.” She said softly.

“Curiosity is dangerous for someone of your stature.” He removed the blade, releasing her from his grasp. “Does your brother know you strayed from the castle?”

“My brother spends far too much time worrying about my affairs.” She complained.

“How can I be of service, M’lady?” He said with a mocking bow.

“What is your business with the King?” She asked.

“I told you earlier, it’s confidential.” He pulled the bottle from his cabinet, pouring a glass of rum for himself and his curious companion. Pushing the glass toward her, he took a swig of the warm liquid. Watching as she eyed the glass, her fingertips sliding around the tip.

“Is it in regard to the Duke?” She mused, taking the glass in her hand, and smelling the liquid it held inside.

“I’m as uninterested in the affairs of the Duke as it appears the lady is.” He narrowed his eyes, watching her put the glass to her lips. His brow raised as she hesitated with the drink. Sensing this, she tilted the glass, swallowing the liquid inside. As soon as it reached her throat she began sputtering and coughing. The Captain laughed, taking the glass from her hands.

Putting her hand over her mouth, she coughed once more, then lifted her chin. “And the King was not trying to convince you to offer your own hand?”

Killian chuckled. “I have no need for a wife?”

“He’s hired you for something.” She said angrily. “I want to know what it is.”

“Are you quite certain you can handle it?”

“I’m not a child.”

“No, you most certainly are not.” He said, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching out to run his fingers through her golden locks. Her breath hitched in her throat, but she didn’t move from her spot. “Baelfire.” He whispered.

“What did you say?” She gasped.

“Your brother believes a man named Baelfire to be the notorious Swan Thief. He asked me to stop him from stealing the jewel of Arendelle. A diamond I believe.” He left out the part about knowing the man’s connection to the Princess.

She blinked. “It can’t be.” She stepped away from him. “He’s not been seen in years.”

“I can assure you; I saw him with my own eyes tonight. At the castle.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Henry.” She turned toward the door. “I have to get back to the castle.”

Reaching forward he grabbed her by the arm. “Princess.” She turned toward him, a frantic look in her eyes. “This man terrifies you?”

“He can’t get near Henry.”

“I will find this Baelfire, love. I won’t let him near you or your boy.” He said earnestly. She didn’t flinch at his words, but her expression softened.

“Meet me tomorrow morning, behind the Thirsty Lion.” She turned to leave before spinning back to him. “But say nothing of this to the King.”

“We have an accord, Princess Emma.”

“Call me Swan.” She smiled, pulling the hair clip from her tresses, and pressing it into his hand and scurrying up the ladder as she retreated from his sight.

“Swan.” He whispered into the shadows, holding his palm up to the moonlight, the silver swan hairpiece glistening in its glow.

From the shadows of the deck, a figure watched the woman retreat from the Jolly Roger. Slipping into the darkness, he covered himself with a large canvas tarp. He was unsure what business his mother had with the Captain, or if any of this had to do with the man that was being hunted outside the castle, but Henry was determined to find out.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

If you could change ten things about Teen Wolf what would you change??

OMG BUCKLE DOWN BECAUSE IT’S GONNA BE A LONG ONE! Do asks have a word limit? Guess we gonna find out! (Sometimes I wish I could speak these replies, they sound much funnier when I am speaking out loud to myself and then they are just weird and flat typed up but I DIGRESS! I do that a lot, have you noticed? Doesn’t matter.)

(Also, I did put a “Keep Reading” but for some reason it’s not working. Or it’s not showing as working on my end. But it’s right under this paragraph I swear so if it’s not working, that isn’t on me....)

1) SO! Trauma. People be dealing with their traumas. That’d be a thing I’d like, thank you. Like, I’m sorry, but there is a fuckton of trauma in this show and everyone like, goes to bed at night and wakes up cured. Like MAGIC! I mean, yes, I get that magic is a thing in the show (is it? I mean kind of? Idk, I never saw past season 4, they alluded to magic and then SNATCHED THAT AWAY so, side-note, that’s coming up later!) But yes, I would’ve very much liked for people to, you know, deal with their traumas in a realistic fashion. Let’s get some therapy going, or like, idk, some actual negative reactions to thing! They kind of had that with Stiles every now and then, but he seemed to be up and down episode to episode so like, it’d be like they wrote an episode where he reacts to what happened to him and then four episodes have gone by where he’s fine and the writers were like “OH YEAH SHIT HE JUST MURDERED LIKE A WHOLE HOSPITAL, make him have a panic attack randomly over dropping milk, that balances out, excellent, we’re so smart.” So yes. DEAL. WITH. THE. TRAUMA! Thanks.

2) LESS CHARACTERS, MORE DEVELOPMENT! I mentioned this in another recent ask about relationships but like, they just kept shoving characters in there. Like one of those clown cars. So we got like, 30% character development on the core group and then the rest was like “wait, who are you again?” Like, legit, I have a bad memory, you put too many people in front of me, I ain’t gonna remember them unless they have a good personality or a reason to be there. And like, develop their relationships! Not even romantically, but like, Scott’s mom loves Scott, that is sweet and lovely, but like, we never really… see… that… developed? Idk man, like again, I have a bad memory, but when you really develop relationships WELL (ex: Brooklyn-nine-nine), that shit sticks with you and you CARE about people. The friendships are important, and the familial relationships are important and just developing all the dynamics is important! They spent more time showcasing how much everyone hated each other and lied to each other and stuff and that just got really tiring. Yes, you’re allowed to get mad at your friends, but if you’re a Werewolf, and your human friend is calling you when there is a fucking monster running around killing people, can you maybe stop making out with your girlfriend and answer your phone so your friend isn’t treading water with a 200+ pound Werewolf for 2 hours? Like, JUST SAYING! (Spoiler alert: Me and Scott would not be close friends. Like, I think we’d be friends, but not so much that I’d trust him with my life. If I wanted to grab pizza and a movie, maybe play some video games, he sounds like a treat, but if my life was in danger, thanks I be callin’ someone who answers their phone).

3) Actual consequences for their actions! Okay like, I am also guilty of this in fanfic, but at the same time, my writing is free, I don’t get paid for it, and I write what I want because that’s how it works, so I can do whatever I please (If I wanna make the Hales royalty for the millionth time, ain’t nobody gonna stop me!). But like, when you are a legit paid screenwriter who is writing a show? Consequences! Just because it’s a show about Werewolves doesn’t mean there can’t be any consequences! Like, the best scene, and I feel like we can agree, because fuck it like, hurt my soul and my heart and I was just so like ;~; was when the sheriff got fired (fired? suspended? TEMPORARILY UNEMPLOYED!) because Stiles stole a police van when they locked Jackson up in it. Like, that shit was REAL LIFE CONSEQUENCES for actions, and that shit was intense and it HURT and omg I loved it! Give me more of that! Like, I’m sorry, but you gonna tell me Nogistune!Stiles walked through the hospital murdering a bazillion people and not one camera was working the whole time? Not one? Nobody saw that? Nobody went “hey, isn’t that the sheriff’s kid?” Like, CAN. YOU. IMAGINE?! That would’ve been so amazing, a bunch of episodes of the pack scrambling to keep the Supernatural a secret while also trying to stop Stiles from GETTING ARRESTED because saying “Sorry ma’am, I was possessed by a demon fox who likes chaos and thought murdering a bunch of people would be fun” ain’t gonna fly in court and the FBI sure isn’t gonna believe that but like, UGH! Again, bad memory, but was the fact that Dark!Stiles wandered through the hospital killing people EVER brought up again???? CONSEQUENCES. Woulda really liked that.

4) STOP with unnecessary romances. Like, yeah, I get it, the allos like their romances, but shockingly, you can still have a good show without focussing on the romance. Like, it can be there, I’m not saying don’t put it in, I’m saying DON’T MAKE IT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! Like, the entirety of season one was Scott chasing Allison and Stiles chasing Lydia. This… this does not make an interesting show? Like, is that just me? And then as the season progressed, EVERYONE had to be in a relationship? WHY? Again, haven’t seen past season four, but I mean, I know Scott and Kira were a thing, and then Stiles and Malia, and Liam and some… person? Idk. And Ethan and Danny (congrats Jeff, you get to tick your “I had representation in my show!” box, well done, gold star, or whatever). And Isaac and Allison, and Melissa and Chris (apparently?). And then Stydia was alluded as being canon, and Scott ended up with Malia somehow?? And Derek slept with half the town and all of Mexico, idek. Like, stop it. Stop. Shows work without everything being about everyone banging each other. (See again: Brooklyn-nine-nine, or Avatar the Last Airbender, or The Good Place, or even fucking Supernatural!) You can have a good, interesting story without everyone banging each other. It ain’t necessary.

5) More actual storytelling (again, this woulda worked better without the unnecessary romances taking up 49 of the 50 minutes of air-time). Like, yes, I get it, pilot’s gotta have some pizzaz! Gotta be spicy and sparkly to make people interested (and like, fucking hell, all I can remember of the pilot is sobbing Allison soaking wet–LIKE, WAS THAT NECESSARY???–about the dog she hit and oh noes is it dead well thank God the lead character works for a vet! And somehow has keys and access to the whole clinic like nbd at all hours? Whatever. I wasn’t even allowed inside my blockbuster as a shift lead if it was off-hours but apparently a high school student doing paperwork at a vet clinic is different, I’m not a vet so what do I know? I HAD A BAD DAY OKAY, I GOT FEELINGS ABOUT THIS RN!) I went off-topic, what was I saying? Oh yes, storytelling. You know what woulda been nice? Werewolves! It happens, we find out about Laura, we find out about Werewolves, Scott gets bitten, all that jazz. And then like… ease in the Hunters? Like, why was there Laura/Derek, Peter, AND the Hunters all crammed into the pilot? Yes, I get it, you need the SUSPENSE and the DRAMA, but you can do that without the Hunters right off the bat. Just, how CONVENIENT~ that the same day Derek and Laura come back, Hunters move to town? That’s just lazy, and again, I can be guilty of laziness, I admit to it, but I literally get paid in—like, do hearts count? I get paid in hearts and pats on the back for my fics, I can write whatever I want. If you’re getting paid to write something, try a bit harder, yes? Yes???

What number am I on? Oh good Lord, I got things to say, okay.

6) MAGIC! Can you like—I feel like this one is self-explanatory. Stiles did the whole mountain ash thing in season one, and it was SO PROMISING, and then that just died. It died like Maes Hughes getting shot in a phonebooth (spoiler, but really, you haven’t seen that yet, that’s a you problem). Why even bother introducing magic if you weren’t gonna use it? Like, was it because people like Stiles more than Scott and the showrunner was like “nonono. If we make him magic, he’s TOO cool, and then Scott is unimportant.” I mean, you coulda worked that in your favour, but no. You just murdered the fuck out of it, like straight up took it out back and shot it. Like, yeah, Derek went kiddo again and Jennifer was apparently all magic beauty spell or whatever, but like?? That’s it??? You had a show about Werewolves and you didn’t even try to make it more interesting by making some of the characters magic? Lydia’s basically the closest and they didn’t even explain her powers that well. Magic would’ve been dope and they totally shoved that to the side. That was dumb. Shoulda done something with that.

7) Explain things more? Don’t mention them once and then do nothing? Like, we got some brief stuff about anchors, and emissaries (which are super duper secret according to Deaton but then like, EVERYONE KNOWS HE IS EMISSARY SO WHICH IS IT DEATON? YOU TELL ME!) Like, they had so much opportunity to talk about so many things and again, maybe that comes out more in the later seasons, idk, but they likely coulda done with more explanations and they didn’t and this angers me GREATLY. They mention something once and then it never comes up again. That’s some Lost bullshit right there. Don’t start something if you’re not gonna commit. You tell me the beginning of the story, I wanna fucking know the end, don’t forget halfway through and wander away, that ain’t right, I NEED ANSWERS JEFF! And like, as above, never really got Lydia’s powers. I know what a Banshee is, but her powers did NOT make sense to me. Idk, could just be that I’m dumb, but similarly, don’t write something so convoluted that it confuses people, that is also dumb. As dumb as I am so like, well done there. And also do we get more on Parrish? I know he’s a Hellhound, but how does one get born a Hellhound and not know until you are conveniently lit on fire by someone trying to kill you for money? (Also, you bean, you absolute treasure, “I’m worth five dollars?” You’re so cute. Silly child.) I feel like being a Hellhound is something that woulda come up before getting barbecued in his cruiser. Like, he works a stressful job, you gonna tell me not ONCE while getting shot at he didn’t have a massive heart attack over a close call and like, burst into flames? No? Is that just a me thing? I feel like the slightest annoyance and I’d be fully on fire, not gonna lie. (I’d be on fire a LOT… CLEARLY I AM AN ANGRY PERSON! No, that’s not true. No yes it is, I am angry, but more angry lately because I’m sleep-deprived and work is dumb ANYWAY back to this)

8) EMBRACE THE SIDE CHARACTERS! Okay, so MAYBE Scott is meant to be the golden child. The Dick Grayson of the show, if you will. The original Robin, the creme de la creme. That’s all fine and dandy if he is, no judgement (little judgement), but you know what you don’t do when your side characters are getting a lot of attention and love? What you DO NOT do is give them less screen time. Because then you’re being petty and, shockingly, you get more positive results when you give the fans what they want. I’m not talking about pairings, because everyone is different, and you can’t cater to everyone, but like, the more people moved away from liking Scott, the harder the showrunners pushed him into our faces. And like, that isn’t how this works. If I like side character 87 a lot, and the lead’s getting annoying, you know what’s gonna make me NOT watch the show? Cutting out side character 87 (hey, for shits and gigs, let’s call him DANNY, just, not coincidentally at all) and then just shoving the lead into my face. That is what makes someone go “Well, four seasons is enough, I can happily live knowing I didn’t waste my life watching two more of them.” Like??? I’m not saying cut out Scott, because the show is ABOUT Scott, but the more everyone tried to showcase how amazing and wonderful and pure and perfect he was, the more annoying it got? Like, Scott has flaws. THEY ALL HAVE FLAWS! If you don’t admit that they all have flaws, it gets boring, and you hate the characters. I know that Scott turned into a douche later (apparently, again, haven’t seen it), but even in the early seasons by trying to make him this pure True Alpha golden angel child who spreads love and hope and trusts everyone, it just got boring. He was vanilla, and also a bad friend, because he was too “perfect” to be around someone “imperfect” like Stiles, and even like, the rest of the pack overall. He was always put on a pedestal and it made the show really… irksome? Idk, I just feel like yes, SCOTT is the Teen Wolf, but you added all these damn side characters, maybe use them a bit more? At least Stiles was interesting, and Lydia was fucking badass, and fucking hell, if you’d done right by Boyd and Erica, the actors wouldn’t have left for better shows so like, come on man, you coulda done better. We coulda had such a dope show, why you gotta crush my dreams like that Jeff? What did I ever do to you?

I know this is only eight, but this is long enough, if I go two more, this is gonna be IN.SANE. And also it’s late and I haven’t finished my fic for the day (I mean, I’m almost done, but I’m not done yet!) So like, I’ma stop here. But yes, hopefully this answered your question. Sorry I got REALLY PASSIONATE about it but it’s been a day.

Also, I feel this needs to be said, but obviously these are my own personal opinions, and as opinions, you are not obligated to agree with them. But you are also not allowed to tell me my opinion is wrong. You can disagree with it, but this is an opinion, not a law, so there is no right and wrong. Don’t @ me, my day’s been bad enough kthx!

HAVE A GOOD NIGHT, BE BACK IN LIKE TWENTY(?) MINUTES!

[jemej3m]

a comprehensive set of rules (p.2)

i have no control over my writing schedule. it has been completely consumed by this au. this is all of y’all’s fault. 

heavy tw: blood and gore and bodies. also, bad people talking about raping allison and using homophobic slurs.

*

July:

“Andrew,” Renee called out, rapping her knuckles on the guest bedroom gently. 

Andrew was currently living out of one, black suitcase: he’d spent half his time at different hotels and half his time at colleagues’ homes, though calling Allison a colleague was a bit of a stretch. Wymack had let him camp out in his girlfriend’s spare room, seeing as his place was apparently too small for the both of them. Dan and Matt had even let him crash on the couch between motel rooms. 

Andrew was really fucking excited to get his place back. According to Neil, his father was pulling out all stops to get rid of him, or whoever was aiding him. As far as Andrew was concerned, Neil was in more danger, but the man refused to exonerate himself from the situation. The next best thing was ensuring that Andrew was untouchable. 

“Andrew, can I come in?” 

Andrew grunted, still bent over his files in the middle of the room. He’d pushed the bed to one side to make room and was suddenly shirtless, fan pulsating in the corner. He never did great in the heat. 

“Oh,” Neil’s voice squeaked like an elementary schooler’s clarinet. “Uh - I can come back?”

Andrew squinted up at him. “The fuck are you doing here?” he got to his feet and made his way over, reaching up to tug on Neil’s hair. Definitely real. “Huh.” 

Behind Neil, Renee snorted. Andrew glared at her: she put up her hands in surrender and paced off to do something else. 

Andrew shuffled Neil into his room and shut the door, treading carefully around his work. 

“This...” Neil looked over it, carefully avoiding the many photos and files and labelled evidence bags as he walked. He was silent as he moved, unnoticeable if he wasn’t always on Andrew’s radar. 

He also looked much more presentable than the last time Andrew had seen him, which had been before Dimaccio was arrested. A button-down, much like he wore when they first went to dinner. The collar was irritatingly popped, and his trousers were properly pressed, the shoes delicately shined. He looked like a rich man’s son. 

Andrew hated it. He also hated how good it looked.

“Sit on the bed,” Andrew instructed. “I don’t need you scuffing anything up.”

“This seems like a lot more than what’s necessary,” Neil said, avoiding looking at Andrew as he tugged on a shirt. “Also a lot more than we originally discussed.”

Andrew pointed at the profile of a smiling woman, and various other men. “Williams. Reacher. Jenkins. The three of them worked tirelessly on gang violence. They completely eradicated the Terrapin family from the game. Countless Bearcats and Catamounts have been locked up by them. But as soon as they turned to the Wesninski family, they were never found again. Three different detectives. Almost three consecutive years. They deserve justice too.” 

Neil was, clearly, not expecting to have to put names and families to the bodies his father had diced and scattered. His expression had become shuttered as Andrew talked, fingers curling into tight fists, the fabric of his trousers ensnared between his whitened knuckles. 

"You’re afraid.” 

Neil looked at him, eyes blazing. “He is all I’m afraid of. I can’t just - turn that off.”

Andrew crouched down on the floor in front of him. “You’re allowed to be afraid. You have to promise me that you won’t run away because of it.”

Neil’s shoulders were curled inwards. “I don’t want to become him. I don’t -” he looked at the photos of the officers and the remnants of their bodies and the ruination caused by his father’s work. “I don’t want that. I don’t.”

“So leave it behind.”

Neil grit his teeth. “I can’t! Look at me. Look at me. You think this is my father? Parading me around at events, trying to find me a wife who can bear my child, tracking my every move? Of course it’s not. My father is someone else’s weapon, a well-enamoured thug at best. He’s a Baltimorean gangster. He’s not the one in control here.”

Andrew put his hand over Neil’s wrist and let him breathe for a moment. 

“They know that he’s fucked,” Neil continued, eyes squeezed shut. “They know they’re going to lose him. So I’m being conditioned. I’m being shaped up to replace him. You know I’ve been in New York for the past two weeks?” He shoved his hair out of his eyes. Andrew opened his palm upwards, and Neil let himself tangle their fingers. “I want to escape my fate so badly, but my family has been indentured to them for - I don’t even know. Forever, it seems like.”

“Who, Neil?” 

He let out an aggravated sigh. “Who else controls enough of the east coast to keep the fucking Butcher in check? It’s the bloody Moriyamas.” Andrew stiffened. “If you breathe that name outside this room, I’m dead. You’re dead. Everyone you ever loved will die. They’re so well protected that the crazy second son can go off and do whatever he likes, including training to be a police officer and almost killing the partner he’s given, but it doesn’t even matter. It’s hushed up within the week.” 

He held tight onto Andrew’s hand. “The best I can hope for is a negotiation. A price that I can pay off in - a decade, maybe. Possibly two. Maybe securing a new family to pass the relationship to. I don’t know.” 

“Then that’s what you do,” Andrew vowed. “We deal with the monster under the bed first. Then the basement that lets them out. Don’t run,” Andrew insisted, his hand having worked its way up Neil’s arm to grip the back of his neck. “Don’t hide. You can’t afford to, not now.”

Neil rested their foreheads together. “I’ll try.”

Andrew’s thumb brushed circles under Neil’s jaw. “That’s all I ask.”

*

Breaking news: Nathan Wesninski being brought to court for multiple homicides, including Baltimore police officers and Mary Hatford, his wife...initially being assessed for money laundering and tax evasion, Wesninski is now being persecuted for multiple acts of violence, mutilation and extortion. Police officers under Captain David Wymack have collated resources and new-found evidence and will attempt to put Wesninski behind bars permanently.

*

August: 

Andrew’s heart was pounding. They’d tapped into comms just over an hour ago, received the corresponding telephone data and locations, and now they were paging the block. 

It was eerily quiet, and too dark for a suburban area. The cul-de-sac had no streetlights and all the houses were either empty, with for sale! signs posted on their laws, or all the blinds were drawn closed. It was only nine in the evening. 

Andrew took out his gun as they approached the house. Renee was at his shoulder. 

The house in question was two-storey, seemingly empty, the garage locked shut. The gardens were immaculately kept, the painted finish on the house brand new. God knows what was happening within: Andrew hoped that whatever mess had been made within wasn’t irreparable. 

Andrew’s radio cackled. “How do you want to go about this, Minyard?” 

Andrew cracked his knuckles and fished out his lock picks from his back pocket as he radioed back. “Silent entry. I’m going to unlock the door, and only our squad heads in. Everyone else surround the premises if they notice and escape.”

“Alright, sarge,” Matt said, jokingly, a few feet behind Renee. Dan must have pinched him because he immediate said “Ow!” 

Andrew and Renee crept up onto the front balcony: Andrew crouched down and worked for about two minutes till the lock had opened. Kevin had already phoned the security firm to let down the alarms, so Andrew and Renee stepped inside, unnoticed. Dan, Matt and Kevin dispersed, but Andrew always headed to the basement. 

The light was on. 

“...We should get back to Junior,” one voice said. “God knows he’s probably slipped free by now.”

“You kidding? We had him practically halfway into a coffin. Let’s just clean this up first.”

“Maybe pretty Alli’s woken up. If Junior wasn’t so fervently protective of her I’d’ve had her bent over by now.” 

“Christ, Romero." But the man was laughing. “Maybe now’s your chance.”

Disgust crawled down his spine. He glanced at Renee, just as they approached the doorway: she had her eyes closed momentarily, lips moving with a prayer. The door was left ajar. 

One, he mouthed. 

“Didn’t think boss had the guts to get rid of little Junior.”

Two, she returned. 

“Maybe he liked that bitch of a wife, after all. He could’ve had a kid with Lola and gotten rid of the pathetic faggot, but he stuck by Nathaniel anyway.”

Three, they both nodded, kicking the door wide open with his foot and grasping his gun in both hands. 

“Hands up,” he growled. “Drop whatever you’re holding.”

“Kneel,” Renee said, softly. “We will shoot you if you don’t comply.”

Neither of the men had guns. They dropped their knives to the ground and knelt down, furious. By them was a body, heavily dismembered. The hair was neither auburn nor blonde.

“Basement,” Andrew barked into his radio, training his gun on the one he recognised as Romero. His hands were limp, twitching by his sides. Andrew wanted to cut them from his body and watch him bleed. 

The other three skidded into the room, guns ready. 

“Go find them,” Renee murmured, under the cacophony of Dan and Kevin wrangling the perps to the ground, Matt kneeling by the body. “Andrew, go.” 

He nodded stiffly, falling back. Up the stairs and to the left was the door to the garage, which he kicked down. Switching the lights on, he looked to the two persons still on the floor, tied up and beaten down. 

“Andrew,” Neil gasped, covered in blood and cuffed at the wrists and ankles. Allison seemed alright, if a bit groggy, with a gag in her mouth and her hands tied behind her. 

Andrew grabbed the hedge clippers from the wall of gardening tools and broke through the handcuffs, cutting Allison’s rope bindings and tugging off her gag. 

“Perps restrained, fall in through the front,” Dan said through the radio. “Victim dead. Get a stretcher: Forensics team definitely not necessary.” 

“We can’t be found here,” Allison hissed. “We can’t be brought in.”

“Jesus Christ,” Andrew muttered, fishing the keys to his cousin’s place out of his pocket. “Fine. If you can get him on his feet,” he jerked his head to Neil, who muttered I’m fine. “Go to Nicky’s place. I’ll meet you there later. Unless you need a hospital?”

“It’s all superficial,” Neil mumbled, wincing. Andrew felt concern curl and knot in his stomach. He looked to Allison. 

“Maybe you should do a first-aid cert.”

“Maybe that’s not a half bad idea,” she grunted, hauling Neil to his feet. 

“The back should be clear of cops now,” Andrew said, cutting through the padlock on the garage door. “Get out.”

“Good to see you too, Minyard,” Allison drawled, pulling Neil along. With a wink, they were both gone. 

Andrew rubbed at his temples, giving himself only a minute of reprieve, before heading back into the fray. 

*

Nicky’s house was cold and dark. The two of them had been on a spontaneous trip around Europe for the last few months, visiting Erik’s family. Nicky wasn’t stupid: when Andrew offered him this and that, he took it without question and knew there was a reason why.

“When I get back,” he insisted over the phone. “When I get back the three of us are visiting Aaron. Got it?”

“Fine,” Andrew had grunted, hanging up on his cousin without a goodbye. 

Neil had parked himself on the couch, staring at the ceiling with square bandages across his cheeks. Bruises mottled his skin, and his hands and forearms were mummified in a similar fashion. 

“I was going to try and contact you,” Neil said, not needing to see Andrew to know who’d entered the house. “I would’ve called you.”

Andrew sat on the end of the couch as Neil drew his feet up to give him room. “Right.”

The man struggled into a seated position. “I was.” 

“Should’ve let them kill you,” Andrew muttered, glaring at the unused television. Neil snorted, swinging his legs off the couch and settling next to Andrew. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

“Just - shut up.” 

For a while they sat in silence. Andrew lit up a cigarette and smoked it through to the filter. Neil seemed to lean a little closer, attracted to the scent. 

“Hey,” he murmured, when Andrew threw the stub onto the coffee table. 

Andrew turned and looked at him. His eyes were clear, purposeful. Andrew remembered their first date, their second. Cleavers and thugs and light, candle light and club lights, striping across Neil’s cheekbones like something from a painting. 

Kissing him felt - 

Normal. Right. Like coming home. Like finding - not the last piece of the puzzle, but the last edge, making a solid shape to be filled in, something clear and decisive. Andrew’s fingertips found his jaw and he felt Neil’s fingers curl in the collar of his vest. His police vest. 

It was enough to draw him to a stop, pulling back just enough for him to breathe. 

“You don’t swing,” Andrew accused, poorly hiding how winded he was.

Neil huffed, equally as breathless. “You don’t date.” 

Andrew’s teeth ground together. “You don’t date cops.” 

“And you don’t date mobsters,” Neil retorted. “What’s your point here?” 

“Yes or no?” Andrew demanded, because he needed to know. He needed to know for sure. Without a doubt, with complete surety, with perfect clarity - 

“Yes,” Neil answered. “Obviously.” 

“‘Obviously’,” Andrew parroted with a scoff. “I hate you.” 

When Neil’s lips curved up into a smile, Andrew kissed him quiet. 

*

September: 

“You know I’ve got a week off, after next week,” Andrew said, trailing his fingers over the threadbare t-shirt that Neil wore. He said ‘next week’ and not ‘Nathan’s trial’. They’d both come to an agreement that where they could avoid talking about it, they would. 

It was out of Andrew’s hands, anyway. All the evidence was with the prosecutor, and it was their job to put him behind bars. 

There was no way Nathan Wesninski was getting out, now. Not a single chance. 

Which meant there was no reason to talk about it. Or about Neil’s future inheritance of his father’s position, or Andrew’s award of recognition for his work. Which felt rather cheap, really - he was just lucky that Neil had decided to give him a second chance. 

Then again, policing was mostly luck, and a bit of charisma. Andrew was usually lacking in both, but right now, in the golden afternoon sunlight, with Neil in shorts and unkempt hair, he felt incredibly lucky. 

Neil craned his head back to look at Andrew. His new scars were bright red, but healed over at this point. “Just Chicago?” 

Andrew hummed assent, closing his eyes and pressing his nose to the crown of Neil’s head. Casual intimacy had always been - too much. Too soft, too nice, like it was covering up something sinister. Never had Andrew felt so relaxed, not even after sex, which usually resulted in Andrew grabbing his shirt, shoes, phone and wallet and leaving immediately. 

And they hadn’t had sex yet. Andrew didn’t know if Neil would ever want to have sex. That was - unsurprisingly - not the most important thing on Andrew’s list of wants and needs. 

Instead, here he was, lying on his back in Nicky’s guest bedroom. Neil was lying next to him, on his side, head cushioned on Andrew’s shoulder. And he did want this. He’d been tied up and exhausted for months: now it was all coming to its peak, the finish line right around the corner. And they were - okay. Ish. Maybe. Probably. Andrew wasn’t peeved about it. 

“Don’t die whilst I’m gone,” Andrew muttered, fingers threading through his hair. 

“I have to go to New York, anyway,” Neil said, sullen. “Might as well do it whilst you’re away.” 

“How many times are they going to pull you up there?”

“Till they’re confident I won’t screw everything up in the change-over, I guess. Or maybe it’s about the wife thing.” 

Something in Andrew’s chest twisted. He simply hummed. 

Neil shifted, propping himself up on his elbow to look at Andrew properly. “You know I’m not going to go through with it, right?”

“And if they threaten you?” Andrew reminded him. “Your life isn’t exactly yours.”

“Fuck them,” Neil said as he leaned forward, forever antagonistic. Andrew sighed: Neil paused. “No?”

“Yes,” he muttered, pulling Neil down. One hand brushed along the slither of exposed skin that revealed itself as Neil’s shirt rose up: Andrew relished in the shiver that flitted across Neil’s skin. His scarred fingers - covered in circular burns from a dashboard lighter and various scratch ridges - felt familiar and known when Andrew guided them to the back of his head. Neil was careful, as always.

Andrew had intended on asking when the hell Neil had heard about Andrew’s past, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. He didn’t want to talk about it now, anyway.

Just as Neil let Andrew push his shoulder back, following him over to kiss him into the mattress, Allison’s nails tapped impatiently on the bedroom door. Andrew broke away, startled, just as Neil cursed, sitting up. 

“Yes, Allison?” Neil demanded, clearing his throat. “What is it?”

“You sound odd,” Allison remarked, door handle turning. 

“Uh - !” Neil scrambled off the bed, looking to Andrew with wild eyes. “I’m - naked! Don’t come in.”

“Right,” Allison drawled. “Should I just wait in my room for him to leave, then?”

“I hate you,” Neil complained. “What do you want?” 

“Andrew’s phone was going off in the kitchen,” Allison said, slyly. “Sounds like the prosecuting lawyer wants some of your time, Andrew. Nice of you to glide by without saying hello.”

“I’m busy,” Andrew retorted. 

Allison just laughed, strutting down the corridor with her heels tapping on the wooden floorboards. Neil crossed his arms, red-faced. 

“C’mere,” Andrew said, still sitting on the bed. 

“But Thea,” Neil tried. 

“The law can wait,” Andrew insisted, extending his hand.

The look in Neil’s eyes sent sparks flying across Andrew’s skin. 

*

“Took you long enough,” Thea Muldani said, a master of clipboards and abridged glares. She was a lawyer worth Andrew’s time, he knew that, but he also didn’t feel like putting up with Kevin’s heart-eyes or Renee’s unsubtle glances. 

Jesus Christ, he thought, slamming his bag on the table hard enough to cause everyone to jolt. “I’m here, now.” 

“Congratulations,” Thea remarked. “Don’t care. We have a problem.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. 

“Nathan Junior’s prints are all over a tonne of this evidence. If we don’t have him accounted for, defence is going to be all over it.”

“Are you serious?” Dan demanded. “Nathaniel would’ve been 15 when Mary was murdered.” 

“Doesn’t matter. If the evidence has been tampered with, it could be rendered useless. It would be extremely helpful,” Thea said pointedly. “If people’s CI’s could come forward and testify. We have almost no witnesses, except for Andrew and Renee, who claimed that Jackson Plank and Romero Malcom were acting on orders from Nathan whilst murdering Janie Smalls, last month. Neither of them will confess to any sort of collaboration with Wesninski, and two unidentified blood sources were found in the garage.”

“That sounds like circumstantial bullshit,” Dan argued. 

“And can we prove them wrong?” Thea shot back. “No. We can’t. For all we know, it’s been Nathaniel behind all of this instead. He’s certainly old enough now.”

Andrew stood out of his chair, grabbed his things and turned to leave. 

The lawyer gave him an appraising look. “I haven’t dismissed this meeting, Minyard.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew said. “If you won’t do your job, then I suppose I’d better go and fucking do it for you.” 

“It’s Thursday,” Thea reminded him. “Case starts on Monday.”

Andrew ignored her, making sure to slam the door on the way out. 

*

Romero Malcom was a sullen man. His skin was papery thin, even only a few weeks into his prison stay. Andrew couldn’t say that he pitied him. He sat down with his cup of coffee, leaning back in his chair with his leg crossed at the ankle. Romero was locked to the interrogation table opposite, shoulders curled in, fingernails scratching against the table top. 

Trying to get a rise. It wouldn’t work. 

“Honestly, between you and your sister, you seemed like the more rational one,” Andrew said, eyebrow arched. He put his coffee down and opened up his file. “Did you think about how your lifestyle had an expiry often? Nathan had Dimaccio as his right-hand man, but kept Lola as his carefully concealed weapon. You and Plank seemed just like...more prized cannon-fodder.”

Romero’s eye twitched. 

“You know, you said something that caught my interest,” Andrew leaned forward. “You said you’d’ve fucked Nathaniel Wesninski’s friend. What was her name?”

“Allison,” he said. 

“Right. You said you’d intended to rape her.”

“No wonder you’re so hung up on it, Doe,” Romero sneered. So they’d all done their research. “Well I didn’t, did I? Not that she’s shown up. She knows Nathan’ll kill her. He’s pretty sure she’s the rat.”

“Do you think she is?” Andrew inquired. “Mind you: I know who the rat is, and you don’t.”

“I think she’s the rat.” Romero sneered. “Princess bitch won’t be loyal to nothing but herself.”

“Which was why he asked you to kill her. She’d betrayed you all.” 

“We didn’t kill her.”

“No, but you were going to. He wanted you to kill all three of them.” 

“It was probably Junior that called the cops on us,” Romero scoffed. Andrew’s jaw ticked. “Fucking brat. It was about time.”

“About time for what?”

“To get rid of him.” Romero rolled his eyes. “Not that Plank could manage that, either. Useless. But Nathan gave us the call. We were waiting for it, honestly. Killing off Junior meant there was more of an incentive to keep Nathan out of jail. Otherwise there’s no other options.”

Moriyamas, Andrew thought, but he had no interest in involving them. “So Nathan called the two of you, ordered you to get rid of Allison and Nathaniel.”

“He didn’t want them showing their faces and causing trouble.” 

“So why Janie?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Romero laughed. It sounded like rusted truck breaks. Andrew was very close to knocking the scalding coffee onto exposed skin. 

“Nathan probably ain’t happy,” Andrew amended. 

Romero barked out another laugh. “He’ll be livid at this point. He sent me an email on exactly what he wanted me to do to your tiny little body, Minyard. An email. Who the fuck sends emails anymore? Anyway, yeah. He’s pissed.”

Andrew stood up from the table, carefully putting his audio recorder into plain sight as he picked up his coffee. “Well, I’d say it was a pleasure, but it wasn’t.” Romero looked at the recorder, slightly sickly. “Have fun in here, Malcom. I’m sure your sister sends her regard from max.”

With that he spun on his heel, the sweet sounds of Romero’s panic putting a hop in his step all the way out of the centre. 

*

“I’ve never...” Neil chewed his lip. “Get a blood sample? That’d put me into the system.”

“And help me identify your pieces as they come floating down the river, if your father’s bosses ever learn about this,” Andrew reminded him. “If I can prove that Romero and Jackson were ordered to kill you, there won’t be any ground to stand on. Neil. Remember what I said.”

The man looked at him from an extended moment of time, evaluating and revelautating. 

“Alright,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “Okay.” 

*

October:

Andrew leant his head from side to side, letting his spine slot itself back into place. He hated everything about flying, so much so that even his cousin’s persistent chatter hadn’t been enough to distract him from his living nightmare. 

“Well!” his cousin said, somehow still animated. He and Erik had spent their time in Chicago getting over jetlagged and playing with Aaron’s new puppy, whilst Andrew spent his time watching their antics and silently drinking coffee with Aaron, save for the occasional question here and there. 

Heard you made a big bust, yeah. How’s the residency. A nightmare. Katelyn and I want a baby when it’s done, though. Interesting. You can be the Godfather. Save that for Neil. Neil? Like, the criminal guy? Don’t mention it. Andrew - I said, don’t mention it. Oh, fuck. You’re serious. Jesus Christ, okay. 

“Shall we get a cab?” Nicky inquired. 

“Neil can drop you home on the way to mine.” 

Nicky narrowed his eyes. “Neil? Like, absolute hottie Neil? Allison’s friend? The one you never called back because you’re an idiot?”

“I hate you,” Andrew insisted. 

“Oh my god!” Nicky squealed, tugging on Erik’s arm. “I didn’t know y’all were together. How long has it been? Andrew, you gotta tell me these things!” 

“On second thoughts, you should take a cab,” Andrew grunted, lugging his luggage to where he knew Neil would already be standing, waiting for them to arrive. 

Nicky’s laugh rang out like bells, just as Neil rose up his hand to wave the three of them over. 

Yeah, Andrew thought, letting Nicky gush whilst Neil looked at him like that. 

This isn’t half bad. 

*

And that’s how they got together! andrew will continually tell himself that neil inherited the syndicate after they got together, even if there was only like a month or so between their first kiss and nathan getting locked up. neil will continually tell himself that andrew was only interested in him for the case. they’re both stupid liars who are in love. 

[yikeswtfmate]

Meet me in the Hallway

Summary: Y/N and Bucky have hated each other since they were children and now they’re forced to live together, whether they like it or not.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: swearing; sexual themes

A/N: ...and they were roommates! I’m not going to pass up a chance of putting my spin on this trope, come on, I’m weak! Full disclosure: I was so excited about this idea that I’ve just spent the last 4 hours writing it without pause

masterlist

Bucky sometimes wants to punch Steve in the face. Either that, or maybe punch himself in the face just to save himself from having to live with the two Rogers cousins one more day. He doesn’t mind Steve. After years of living together through college he’s used to all of his habits, including those that are borderline neurotic – like how all the plates have to be stacked according to colour, and not just dump them one over the other. He does mind Y/N, however, although he’s known her for just as much time he’s known his best friend. The only problem is that, where he can forgive any of Steve’s misgivings, Y/N just simply pisses him off. So when Steve came home one day and announced without any kind of heads up that Y/N will be moving in the spare bedroom that they’ve been using as an office of sorts until now, his first thought was to bang his head against the wall until he’d lose consciousness.

Steve was suspiciously silent when Bucky tried to get something more out of him, like ‘why’ or ‘I thought she was living with her boyfriend’ and ‘buy why, Steve’ and even ‘can’t you just send her to stay with Sam and let me live in peace.’

“Just for this year, until she’s done with her residency.” Is all that Steve offers as an explanation.

It was many months later, when Steve was staying over at Peggy’s, when Bucky found Y/N home crying her eyes out when he got all the answers. Apparently, her boyfriend of 4 years was cheating on her (“Didn’t I tell you from the start that he’s a fucking idiot?” which earned him a scowl) so she had to move out from their shared apartment (“I’ve left all my books there, Bucky, I’ve been collecting those books for ever and the asshole just threw them out the next day!” which earned her a shake of his head). She knew from the start that she won’t be able to afford living by herself (“Do you know how much rent is in New York? God fucking dammit, some days I just wanted to stab my eyes with the scalpels” which earned her a nod of agreement) and going back to her parents was definitely not on the table (“I’d actually stab myself to death with those scalpels than having to live with my parents ever again” which earned her a smack over her head), so she had to ask Steve, “the only functioning human being I actually know who’s our age” if he’ll take her in “like a fucking baby.”

They ended up finishing an entire bottle of whiskey that night and the next morning Y/N was sleeping in his bed, her naked skin barely covered by his blanket. Bucky’s first reaction was to let out an incredulous groan, unable to process his reasoning for sleeping with her. As great as the sex had been, they were never a fan of each other, ever since Bucky used to pull her hair and push her in the sand when they were 8. Growing older, that dislike slowly shifted to pure hatred, and those months that they’ve been living under the same roof were proof that they would most likely murder each other before seeing eye to eye on literally anything.

So Bucky hauled his ass out of the apartment as soon as possible, hoping to all that’s mighty she would just take the hint and get the hell out of his bed by the time he’d come back home. Thankfully she did, and they didn’t speak a word of that night until it happened again a month later when Y/N nearly knocked his door down one night because his music wouldn’t let her sleep. The next time it happened, Bucky crawled into her bed at midnight after a particularly bad date, without giving it much thought. After that, it just became routine that they’d find themselves in the other’s bed whenever there would be a bad day at work, lack of sleep, a heated fight that neither wanted to lose, once even just because Bucky came back from the gym all sweaty and annoyed, and two times because she would insist on walking around the apartment in the tiniest shorts that he’d ever seen in his entire goddamn life. Neither of them wanted to think too much about it, justifying it as a means to an end, and as much as they would be attracted to each other, Bucky once famously said that he’d rather marry Sam than bury the hatchet with Y/N, just because “she’s so fucking annoying!”

*

“Where is that dunce anyway?” Y/N asks. “I thought he said he wanted to see this movie as well.”

She hands Steve a bottle of beer and takes her seat on the sofa. Peggy raises an eyebrow in a silent question that Y/N chooses to ignore, and Steve shrugs before popping some popcorn in his mouth.

“Said he had a date.”

Y/N can’t help gritting her teeth in annoyance. She absolutely refuses to think of Bucky as more than an easy lay, but she is human after all, and she’d rather him have a love life as miserable as hers. It’s not fair he gets to try his luck at finding the love of his life, while he’s getting his fix with her whenever he pleases in the meantime.

Steve nudges her shin with his foot from over his armchair, startling her out of her thoughts. Looking up at him, she notices the worry on his face. This boy knows her too well for her to have a semblance of privacy, goddammit. It’s a miracle he hasn’t figured out what’s been going on behind his back, although she has a feeling that’s just because Peggy is too much of an angel to shed some light on the situation.

“What’s wrong?” He demands.

“Nothing. Let’s just watch the stupid movie.” Y/N mutters.

“Nuh-uh.” Steve insists. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Y/N sighs and although Peggy tries to divert his attention, she knows there’s no way in hell she’ll get out of it now. He watches her determinedly, waiting for an honest answer. He’s not stupid and he’s noticed something’s been different with the dynamic between his cousin and his best friend lately. He’s seen how tense Y/N gets whenever Bucky touches her waist when he passes her, which is weird in and of itself considering they would flat out refuse to be in the same room together at first. He can also distinctly remember Y/N wearing one of Bucky’s sweaters when he found her asleep in front of the tv one night. Then it suddenly clicks.

“You’ve been sleeping together!” He shouts accusingly.

Y/N’s eyes widen in shock and she is suddenly feeling very warm. Peggy sighs and mutters something that sounds oddly like “no shit, Sherlock” under her breath. Steve crosses his arms, but his expression turns from incredulous to worried again.

“Oh shit, you’ve been sleeping together.” Then onwards to furious: “And the asshole is on a date right now?” And then wary: “Are you ok with this?” And finally confused: “Why are you ok with this?”

“Look, Stevie.” Y/N starts with a sigh. “It’s not like I have a choice. We’ve never talked about us being more than…fuck buddies, I guess you’d call it.” She says irritated. “We’re fine like this, we both get what we want out of it without any kind of responsibility. It’s neither here nor there if I’m ok with it in the end because Bucky hates me.”

“Y/N, we’ve talked about this.” Peggy tries but she’s cut off with a shake of the head.

“No, Peg. I know he does. Steve can tell you. He’s hated me ever since we were children. To be fair, I couldn’t stand him either, but now I just…” There’s a split second of silence before Y/N’s eyes seem to bulge out of her skull. She plants her hands on either side of her face and shakes her head as if trying to pry the thought out of her head. “Fuck.”

Peggy scoots closer and puts her arm over Y/N’s shoulders. “Oh, Y/N.” She says with a sympathetic smile.

“This is a mess. I’m going to call him and tell him to come home.” Steve announces, his phone already in his hand.

“Don’t, Steve. He doesn’t owe me anything. I’ve never asked anything more of him and he never offered. Just leave it at that. I’ll get over it. Don’t worry about me.” She gets up and hands Peggy the bowl of popcorn she was holding. “I’m tired. I’m just going to call it a night if you don’t mind. I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Peg.” She makes her way to her room in silence, but they both notice the tears that start to form in her eyes.

Steve turns to his girlfriend, his face still trying to decide between worry and anger. “I’m going to kill Bucky.”

“No, you won’t, sweetheart. They’re adults and this is their problem. They have to sort it out themselves.”

*

The next morning Bucky is woken up by what must be the entire population of velociraptors brought back to life in the living room. He looks at his phone, which mockingly informs him that it’s only 3:57 am. He tries going back to sleep, but he finds it nearly impossible now that mammoths apparently joined the dinosaurs.

He groans and gets out of the bed, ready to unleash hell on whoever decided it’s a great idea to wake him up at fuck o’clock on a Saturday. He can barely distinguish Y/N’s form in the shadows of the hallways, throwing a big lump of…something over her shoulder as she rummages through the shoe rack.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He demands.

“Looking for my running shoes.” She replies deadpan. “I left them here yesterday but someone thought they should just bury them with their own shit.”

“Why the fuck are you going for a run now?”

“I always go for a run in the morning.” She seems to have found one of the shoes and proceeds to throw a boot over her head, barely missing Bucky’s arm in the process.

“It’s 4 o’clock. You usually go for a run at 6. Why are you running at 4?! It’s still dark outside! You can’t go running now, who knows who the fuck is out there.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep so might as well be productive.” She shrugs.

“Y/N, come back to bed. You don’t have to be up for another 2 hours. Come on.” Bucky slides a hand around her waist, making her stand straight, her back to his chest. “I can make you go to sleep, baby.” He whispers in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“No, Bucky.” She disentangles from his embrace and tries to push him away with a shove that is too weak to be believable. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what? Sleep?” Bucky laughs and has another try at grabbing her, but she just backs up from him until she hits the sofa, sitting down with a sigh.

“No, Bucky. I can’t do this.” Y/N shakes her hand in the space between them, and Bucky is suddenly wide awake, although refusing to understand what she’s trying to say.

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore? Did you find someone else? Do I not make you feel good anymore?” He demands.

“It doesn’t matter.” She mutters.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course, it matters!” A small voice in his head draws his attention to the fact that he’s now shouting, but he can’t really bring himself to give a shit if he wakes up Steve or their neighbours at this point. “Did you find someone else? Is that it?”

“No, Bucky, I didn’t find anyone else, you fucking asshole.” Y/N spits, already fed up with having to justify herself for the past few days. “I can’t do this anymore because I can’t find someone else. And you wanna know why? Because there’s always someone in the back of my head who I keep coming back to, whatever the fuck I’m doing. The whole cheating shit with my ex? It was because I couldn’t give him what he needed, I couldn’t love him the way I should’ve because there was always this fucking idiot in the back of my head pulling my fucking hair and I’ve now just realised it. And you know what the best part is?” There are tears streaming down Y/N’s face and Bucky can’t do anything more than watch her, confused and suddenly jealous of this guy she’s going on about.

“The best part is that I thought I hated you. I thought you were the bane of my fucking existence, just to have it turn out I didn’t hate you at all. I’ve been in love with you my whole entire fucking life. It’s you, Bucky. It has always been you.”

Y/N can’t move, all she can do is watch how the sunrise light starts pooling in the living room. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears, blood draining from her face, as Bucky just stands there, as catatonic as she is. There’s a grunt and suddenly Bucky is kneeling between her legs, his arms circling her body. He presses a kiss to the side of her left knee and then one to the inside of her wrist. He’s never been this delicate, fingers dancing on the small of her back, his hair falling in his eyes as he looks up at her.

“I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it.” He whispers.

Y/N leans down to place a soft kiss to his lips, as his hands come up to hold her wet cheeks. So this is what this all meant, he thinks, pressing his forehead to hers.

In the other room, Steve closes the door silently and climbs back to bed with a huff.

“Fucking idiots.” He mutters in Peggy’s hair.

“Told you they’ll come around.”

***

Taglist:

@myboyfriendgiriboy​

[joannie95]

Wicked Game

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and him were not the same. His world is white picket fences and religion. You're from the rough side and dependency. He could do better but do you really want him to? Does he really want you or is this a faze. 

Warnings: Some swearing, angst 

A/N: This is my submission for @fvckingavengers​ quarantine writing challenge the song I used was Wicked Game by Chris Isaak  I’m very excited with what I came up with and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to @itsanerdlife​ for your help and allowing me to use one of your stories as inspiration and @mo320​​ and @luckyfiction17​​ for proofreading 

A/N: song lyrics in italics and text message in bold 

Word Count: 2k+ Bucky's POV

I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

I was walking around with Steve when I saw her in the distance sitting underneath a tree, coffee in one hand and a book in the other. I was so enthralled in her I didn't hear my friend talking.

"Earth to Bucky, are you even listening to me." Steve starts to wave a hand in front of my face.

"Sorry what?" I quickly tried to compose myself. 

"I said what are you going to do about Dot?" 

I rolled my eyes. I didn't even want to think about her, she followed me around like a lost puppy. No matter how many times I tried to avoid her she just wouldn't get the message. "Don't even say her name, the girl won't leave me alone. I'm just going to keep avoiding her and hope she gets the message." 

"It hasn't worked before so I don't know why you think it'll work now." 

Before I could respond Steve had to leave for his next class and we both agreed to meet up later. I saw you collecting your things ready to leave, no better time to make my move. 

Y/N's POV

You were so focused on the words on the page you didn't see him walking towards you till it was too late. Your book and what was left of your coffee fell to the ground. "Dammit, will you watch where you're going." When you look up you see a pair of familiar blue eyes. "Oh it's just you."

He bent down to pick up your book and cup. "Sorry about that, here let me get you a new coffee." 

You let out a breath. "No, it's fine, I was just about finished anyways." 

"Well then, let me take you out on a date to make up for it." His cheeks had a light tinge of pink to them.

You raised your brow. "Wouldn't your girlfriend be mad." 

"What girlfriend?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"That girl you hang around with. Curly red hair, crazy eyes, shrill voice." 

He shakes his head and lets out a breath. "She's not my girlfriend, just someone my folks want me to spend time with." 

"Well you should go spend time with her."

"Maybe I want to spend time with you." 

"I'm not the kind of girl you should be hanging out with." 

"Maybe you're the kind of girl I want to hangout with." He had a little smirk on his face.

You chuckled and grabbed your book from his hand. You started walking off before shouting back to him. "See you around Barnes."

I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

The next day you had a feeling of deja-vu when someone bumped into you again. "Seriously Barnes, you should really start watching where you're going."

"Let me make it up to you, let me take you on a date." He seems a lot more confident than yesterday.

"Barnes." You were starting to get slightly irritated.

"Just one date and if you don't have fun you never have to see me again." He gave you the sweetest puppy eyes that were hard to resist.

You groaned knowing he broke you. "Fine, but. It's not a date, it's just 2 people hanging out."

"Whatever you say." He was beaming. 

Later that day you were in your room with Natasha trying to find something to wear. You've spent the last hour going through your closet twice but you still couldn't decide.

"For someone who's insisting that it's not a date you sure are putting a lot of effort to look nice." The red head was laying in your bed scrolling through her phone.

"Will you shut up and help me please." You were frustrated, why were you stressing out so much? This most definitely wasn't a date. 

"Fine, move." She pushed you to the side and started searching.

You heard your phone go off, as Natasha searched through your closet you responded to the text you saw was from Bucky.

Bucky: Send me your address, I'll pick you up.

You started to panic, you didn't want Bucky to see the rundown building you and Natasha lived in.

Y/N: Actually I'll just meet you there.

Bucky: Are you sure?

Y/N: Yeah it's no problem at all 

Bucky: Alright, I'll see you at 7.

"Here wear this." In a matter of minutes Natasha managed to find something. She hands you a black skater skirt, a fitted gray shirt with a semi deep v and your beloved leather jacket. As soon as she noticed your raised brow she spoke up with a smirk on her face. "You know what they say, if you got it, flaunt it."

"I hate you." You grabbed your outfit and changed. You slipped on a pair of black sneakers, put your hair up in a messy pony and you were ready to go.

At 7 o'clock on the dot you pull up to an ice cream shop and see Bucky standing in front. He was wearing a pair of well fitting jeans and a maroon Henley that hugged his muscles. You have to keep reminding yourself that it's not a date.

"Hey, you look really nice." He tried to keep his voice steady to try and hide how nervous he was.

"Thanks so do you. So, ice cream?" You questioned him.

"Yeah, nothing says two people just hanging out like ice cream." 

You chuckled. "Alright." 

You both grabbed a cup of ice cream and decided to walk around a nearby park.

"So, tell me about yourself." 

"There's not much to know, I grew up in a pretty bad home. Left with Natasha when we were 18 and never looked back." You tried to keep it as brief as possible, the less he knew the better. "What about you. What's the life of Bucky Barnes like?" 

He chuckled. "Well I grew up in a relatively small town. It was my mom, dad, my younger sister Rebecca and I. My best friend Steve grew up there too, we were more like brothers. My dads a pastor in our town's church, once I'm done with school I'm supposed to go back and take over for him."

"Is that something you want to do?"

He gave you a quizzical look as if it's the first time he's been asked that. "I've actually never thought about it. I've always been told that was the plan so I never questioned it."

You both continue to talk into the night, about hobbies, likes and dislikes. You learned he's had an interest in fixing cars and he learned about your love for writing.

You looked down at your watch and were surprised at the time. "Oh wow, it's about to be 10. We've been talking for nearly 3 hours."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that, I guess I lost track of time. Let me walk you back to your car." 

On your way there was an awkward silence between the two of you. 

"I had a lot of fun." He looked down as he was starting to get nervous again.

You gave him a small smile as you felt your cheeks warm. "Me too." You noticed he was slowly leaning towards you. You wanted to lean forward too but you knew you shouldn't. He could do so much better than you. Before he got any closer you spoke up in a whisper you weren't sure he'd hear. "I'm not the girl for you."

What a wicked game you play to make me feel this way.

He leaned back and with a sad smile and disappointed voice he spoke up. "Have a good night Y/N." 

He walked back to his car and you could feel the pain in your chest from how much you hurt him. But it's for the best, he could do so much better than you.

A few days have passed and you've been doing your best to avoid Bucky. When you got home that night you explained to Natasha what you did and she called you an idiot. She was right, but you were doing what you thought was best. 

You were leaving class ready to go home after a long day. You were rounding the corner when you nearly bumped into the one person you were avoiding. "Hi." You looked at him but quickly lowered your head in shame.

"Hi." He looked and sounded tired. Dark circles under his eyes that seemed to have lost that light you were so used to seeing in them.

You were about to walk off when he quickly stopped you.

"What did you mean when you said you're not the girl for me? I should be able to make that decision myself" 

You started to shake your head, you didn't want to do this again. "Bucky-."

"No." He interrupted you. "If it concerns me I have a right to know." He didn't sound mad, just very hurt.

"You and I are completely different. You come from a white picket fence life with an extremely religious family and I come from the rough side of town with a family who couldn't care less. It could never work." If avoiding him wouldn't work maybe being brutally honest would.

"You don't know that." 

"Yes I do. That's just how life works." You were about to continue when you both heard a shrill voice calling his name.

"James didn't you hear me calling you?" She placed her perfectly manicured hands around his arm. She scoffed when she saw you. "What are you doing with her? You know your parents wouldn't like that James." 

You gave him an I told you so look before walking away. "Bye Bucky." 

Once the weekend arrived, Nat decided you needed to go out to get you out of your moping state. In her words "you got yourself into this so it's your job to get yourself out." 

You both walked into a fraternity party and you internally screamed when you saw a certain group of friends on the other side of the room. You were about to ask your friend to leave when you made eye contact with him. 

Bucky's POV

I'm not sure why I'm here, I'd rather be home wallowing in my own misery. According to Steve and Sam I need to go out and stop feeling sorry for myself. When I looked up there she was, skin tight jeans with a cropped band t shirt. Only she could make something so simple look so beautiful. 

"Bucky are you even listening to me?" That shrill voice brought him back. "Why are we even here?" 

"No one told you to follow us. If you don't want to be here you can go." I was done being nice, she obviously couldn't understand we didn't want her around. I walked outside to get another drink and to clear my head. 

I couldn't understand why she'd try so hard to push me away, so what if we come from two different lives. That shouldn't matter. I walked back inside to talk some sense into her, maybe if she knew I didn't care about that she'd consider giving it a shot. I looked around for her, I saw her redheaded friend so she couldn't be far behind. 

"Hey have you seen Y/N anywhere?" 

She looked at me for a second before speaking up. "Yeah she said she was going to find a bathroom but that was a little while ago." 

We both scanned the crowd when I saw her coming out of a room. She pulled down on her shirt and adjusted her hair. She looked up and saw us, immediately after a random guy came out of the room behind her. I thought I was going to be sick, I left and didn't look back.

What a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you 

And I don't wanna fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)

With you

Y/N's POV

After searching with no luck you finally managed to find an unlocked bedroom with a small bathroom in the back. Once you stepped out you saw a random guy with a drink in his hand. You quickly apologized thinking it was his room, you were about to go back to the party when he grabbed you around the waist and pulled you close. He said he wanted to have a little fun but you quickly twisted his hand and pushed him off of you.

When you stepped out you made sure to adjust your shirt and fix your hair. You looked up and immediately saw Bucky and Natasha. She looked confused and he looked so hurt, you were about to walk up to them when he turned around and left. You walked towards Natasha to ask her what happened when she questioned you first.

"What the hell was that?" 

"What the hell was what?" You were genuinely confused about what she was talking about.

"You and that guy, did you really just do something stupid to try and push Bucky away?" She was getting extremely mad at this point.

"Nat I really don't know what you're talking about." The confusion in your voice seemed to calm her down. 

"Bucky and I saw you walk out of that room with that guy, and by the way you walked out it seems like something happened between you two." 

"What? No of course not. When I walked out of the bathroom that guy was already in there. He pulled me towards him but I shoved him away, trust me nothing happened." You were hurt that she thought you would do that.

"What are you still doing here? Go after him and tell him the truth." She gave you a nudge but you didn't move.

"No." You seemed confident in that decision but it pained you to say it. "It's for the best, he can do so much better than me." 

She just shook her head and gave you a disappointed look. "Sometimes you really are an idiot. Why can't you just admit how you feel. You two are completely different but who cares none of that should matter. So just go after him and tell him how you feel." 

She's right, you are an absolute idiot, you tried so hard to keep him from ruining his life that you only ended up hurting him. You ran out of the fraternity and frantically looked around you hoping Bucky hadn't gotten too far. You saw him walking in the distance. 

You started to run after him and call out his name. "Bucky! Please wait, let me explain." You slowed down once you got near him.

"You don't have to explain anything." He wouldn't turn around, he kept walking.

"Bucky please just listen to me. Nothing happened." 

That stopped him in his tracks and he turned around. "What do you mean nothing happened, I saw you leaving that room with him."

You noticed the tears in his eyes. "I went to the bathroom and when I came out he was just standing there. He grabbed me by the waist and I pushed him away but nothing else happened"

He started to walk towards you but you took a step back. 

"Why do you constantly do that, why do you keep pushing me away?" He kept clenching his fists.

"Because I'm not good enough for you Bucky!" You shouted but started to calm down when you saw him flinch. "Why can't you just see that you deserve someone better, someone who's not broken." You felt the tears begin to fall. "I'm sorry that I can't be good enough for you." You turned around and started to walk away. 

He pulled you back and turned you around. "Why can't you understand that you're all I want, you push me away and I keep coming back." 

"But you shouldn't want me." Your voice started to shake as you spoke. "You should want someone who can share that white picket fence life with you. Someone you wouldn't be ashamed to be with, someone better than me." 

"I don't want better, I want you." He put both his hands on either side of your face. "I don't want any of that if it means I can't be with you." He brushed the tears from your cheeks and put his forehead against yours. "I want you."

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

You put your hands on top of his and share a heated kiss. "I want you too."

@agentmarvel13​​ @1v-kayla​​ @5sos-wdw​​ @a-dancing-hufflepuff @agent-barnes40​​ @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff​​ @annoylinglyaries​​ @antclottz​​ @avngrsinitiative​​ @bradfordsgreekgod​​ @babypink224221​​ @captainam-erika-trash​​ @carisi-sonny​​ @chook007​​ @cosmiccomicloverqueen​​ @daniellajocelyn​​ @doctoranon​​ @ecamille-xo​​ @editsbyjenny @ellieababy​​ @eternaleviee​​ @futuremissstark @geeksareunique​​ @gummiwormsandonedirection​​ @henrietteoaks​​ @hermionie-is-my-queen​​ @imahoeforbucky​​ @ineedmorefanfics​​ @isabella-bby​​ @jaemingold​​ @junitorials13​​ @katykyll​​ @klanceiscannon14​​ @lady-sigyn​​ @littlephoenix-fire​​ @lovemarvelousfics​​ @l0kisbitch​​ @luckyfiction17​​ @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson​​ @magnificentsoulecollector​​ @mikariell95​​ @mistressoftorture  @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos​​ @paintballkid711​​ @pastelpurplexoox​​ @peteyparkersbabyy @princessizzy36​​ @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete​​ @starstruckgardenstudentzonk​​ @stuckyandsciencebros​​ @superhero2552​​ @thatharrypotterfan13 @thatweirdchick147​​ @the-ducks-umbrella @tienna-laufeyson16 @trustme3-13​​ @wishiwasanavenger​​ @xalinx​​ @yougottalovefandoms​​ @zaza-jones​​ @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash​​

[hollenka99]

2020, According To My Tumblr Archive

January

Like many, freaked out about the Dhawan!Master reveal

Unus Annus reached 2 million subs

Ethan finally saw his sub count reach 1 million

Reblogged the elf pussy post with a version of the elf practice meme and now every time I see that meme, I think of that post

Finally made my Dyspraxic!Chase post

Fleshed out Creator!Jackie a little in terms of Nyesha (his girlfriend) and his prosthetics

February

Got really into Take Me or Leave Me for a short while which led to me watching RENT for the first time

Finally made that follow up to A Talk With The Creator I’d been meaning to write for months (aka A Day Long Overdue)

Started posting Unus Annus trigger warnings for a few weeks after the video where they demonstrate how they’d kill each other as a joke

Reached the 100 follower milestone after nearly 4 years on this site

Got very into WTNV again and binged like 60+ episodes in the space of 2 or so weeks

March

Watched Starkid’s Black Friday

Posted The Doctor on the anniversary of The Friend’s posting

Made some posts about the women of TLoJJ for International Women’s Day

Bupine received an anon ask teasing her about a typo which is common in our friendship group. Usual suspects were accused until the true culprit revealed themself via an acrostic (aka me being extra and I loved every second of it)

Went to the cat cafe in Nottingham

Made sure people were aware of World Puppetry Day by sending anon asks to people I thought might get a kick out of it

Posted Fighting Stolen Breaths

Steven Universe Future ended

Having been in the beginning stages of creation since ~Oct 2019, Jumbled AU content starts appearing

April

Spent the 1st doing an ask event for the Jumbled AU as a way of properly introducing it

Confused a bunch of people outside the Jacksepticeye community when I made a post saying how great it was that $400k had been raised in 2.5 hours during the HopeFromHome stream

Posted The Vlogger for Chase’s birthday

Got hyped to write a Śmigus Dyngus fic featuring Jumbled!Chase and his kids but got sick (regular illness, don’t worry) and therefore never finished it

Norbert Moses existed for 24 hours but he will exist much longer in our hearts

Managed to stay up to see 4:20am on April 20th

Posted the prologue and officially began the story of Jumbled

Watched Ghost for the first time

May

Fanders finally got the continuation of Selfishness vs Selflessness (Putting Others First aka SvS Redux) and learned Deceit’s name

Started talking about The Fall of Naesia

Pretty sure I hyperfixated on Queen for a week or so

Got introduced to ‘Storp Chorleigh, this game has gorn on lawng enuff’ and my life has significantly improved

CumGate happened

Got into ATLA

Black Lives Matter

Created the ‘it’s gonna be gay’ post that would destroy my inbox for the next few days

Had my first experience behind a wheel

June

Posted Flag, the response to which has made me proud of it

Poland scares and disappoints me part 1 (queer rights edition)

Sean posts another blooper video which causes me to make edits that subsequently inspire me to write Little Interruptions

Created an entire mythology purely because I thought a winged humanoid/merperson pairing was a cool concept

Reminded my friends why I should never be allowed to stay up until 4am because I just start talking nonsense

July

Finally watched An Inspector Calls and immediately wanted to make a Sanders Sides au with it.

Started talking about Creator again

Had another ask event to celebrate Jackie’s birthday

Also posted Photographs for his birthday which I love

Reached 150 followers around the middle of this month, I think

Discovered Kipo but wouldn’t fall for it head over heels with it for another month

One Direction celebrated their 10th anniversary and I was possessed by my 15 year old self for a week

Posted The Mediary which properly brought Creator AU back to my blog for a short while

August

Eddsworld came back after years

Posted The Creator and officially completed the main part of the au

Poland scares and disappoints me part 2 (queer rights edition continued)

Finally revealed Jumbled Anti’s identity to the world and got threatened on my birthday because of it

Discovered the Unus Annus video I’d been waiting all year for would be centered around them chewing on dog toys but it did feature “I’m the Unus to your Annus” so that was cool

Binged the first 2 seasons of Kipo in like a day and correctly predicted the Mega Monkey’s identity ages with very little foreshadowing to go off of

September

Started showing my love for Puppet History

Among Us was a thing

Got back into Playchoices

BBC Ghosts came back for series 2

Watched Pride twice in 24 hours and made sure everyone knew I’m heart eyes for it

October

Trump got sick

Family friend took one of my teeth

The world was blessed with Patton in a dress

Replayed Septiscape ahead of Soulscape’s release and liveblogged it

C!Thomas got a love interest and I’m really happy for him

Kipo season 3 came out

Literally the next day, the Dream SMP brainrot officially began

Discovered Thanzag existed and fell for the angsty side of their relationship despite knowing barely anything about the game

Poland scares and disappoints me part 3 (abortion edition)

Started bingeing The Magnus Archives and got through 150 episodes in about 2 weeks

Halloween was an eventful night for both the Jacksepticeye and Unus Annus communities

November 

Unus Annus began its epilogue period

Watched V For Vendetta for the first time which was probably the least eventful thing to happen on the night of November 5th 2020

Destiel became somewhat canon and people found out Putin was thinking of resigning because of that

US elections

Unus Annus died following a 12 hour livestream

Somehow, my mad attempt to summarise every video of Unus Annus kinda paid off

Supernatural trended again because of its finale

Went through a period of questioning whether I’m asexual but settled on ‘sex ambivalent allosexual’ for now

Destiel became canon again but reciprocated and Spanish this time

Discovered Webtoon and Castle Swimmer

December

The monolith saga began

Elliot Page came out as trans

Mark went to hospital for an obstruction again and the community became very invested in his recovery process

Scotch eggs with your drinks became a brief meme over here in Britain

Your New Boyfriend was released

Destiel’s canon status was brought back to the spotlight once more

Watched The Godfather for the first time

Reached 200 followers

We got somewhat of a Dan and Phil video after so long with Phil trying on clothes while Dan reacts behind the camera

BBC Ghosts came back for Christmas to say Tories suck and you should make the most of your time with your family

Got into Mother Mother after Wilbur played the intro to Hayloft and I decided to see what the fuss was about

Watched Bridgerton and immediately felt the need to write something historical

The Mishapocalypse returned

[lostinanimage]

Do you mind me asking about your writing process? How do you get into the midst of the characters so well? I'm just asking because I really love your writing.

I don’t mind at all, but this might get long. (Spoiler alert: It got very very long. No one is ever going to ask me this again.)

I do have a very different process when starting something that’s fanfiction as opposed to something that is mostly or entirely original characters. (My checkplease fiction is somewhere in the middle but more toward the original fiction process because it’s almost entirely original characters.) I’m going to go with my fanfiction process because I’ve been posting 911:Lone Star mostly, but if you want more about my original stuff, let me know. I’m not sure which fandom you’re from. <3

First off, my fanfiction ideas usually come from gaps in the show or a changing something (like Carlos’s job) and blending from there. Because 911: Lone Star tried to cram so much into 10 episodes with way too many characters and emergencies on top of that, they *expected* viewers to mentally fill in some blanks. (Though they may explain those blanks later, it’s still something that’s expected at the time.) Filling in these blanks is what tends to inspire me to start writing fanfiction. (Which is why my checkplease stuff is mostly OCs. I like Jack and Bitty, but we knew so much of their story already. Telling Kent’s story gave me more space. Playing with how Jack dealt with switching teams gave me material for him.) For Lone Star (and some for 911), I honestly feel like I have a huge advantage when it comes to writing these characters. For Carlos (and Eddie), I’m a Mexican queer person from Texas. (For Eddie I did a big move away from my family—to California at one point even.) For TK, I have recovered from an overdose and I have mental health issues. I was relocated because of these things. I’ve lived in Florida (Majan) and Chicago (Paul) and I’ve spent so much time in NYC that I have 3 exes in the city. Someone from my Lone Star fic recently decided to read my checkplease fic as original fiction and quickly discovered that Lone Star is basically just a show made up of tropes and characters I like to write anyway. I also have friend who developed schizophrenia in his early thirties. (Sadly, he was a black man in the south so he was killed the way many black men with mental illnesses in the south are killed.) I still do lots of research, but definitely not as much as I would have to do without all these things. That said, I’ve watched so many parts of the episodes over and over again. Except for the failed dinner scene—which is hard for me to watch, I’ve probably watched every single Tarlos scene over 20 times to pick apart the way they look and move and interact with each other. It gives me a base to grow from. I’ve probably watched the entire series in full (muting that dinner scene lol) over ten times. For the My Salvation series and Tunnel Vision, I’d usually pull up the episode in the time I’m covering and at least watch pieces of it to remind myself what all the characters were doing. This also helps refresh me so that their voices stay in character. When switching between 911 and 911:Lone Star, I’d put on any random episode for at least a little bit to make sure I was back in the right mindset and not, for example, writing Bobby with Owen’s voice. The only character I don’t have to do this with is Judd. I lived in Texas for 18 years. I can write Judd’s voice immediately with no refresher. Jim Parrack (actor who plays Judd) grew up an hour from me and is only 2 years older than me. I’ve literally attended an event at the school where he went to high school while in high school at the same time. Thanks for hiring an actual Texan, Lone Star. Never met him as far as I know, but I grew up with people talking like that. I’ve been to Austin multiple times. I think one of the easy traps to fall into is misusing the advice to “write what you know.” Lone Star for me is a very good example for that because I just outlined how much I know about the facts surrounding these characters. But my actual personality and life history is not like any one of them. I’m divorced, but I don’t think Owen reacts to his divorce like I would. I’ve overdosed, so I was able to know how TK would feel physically, but I’m not like TK so it writing that meant asking “okay, how does *TK* react to this physical feeling. I’m a queer Mexican from Texas, but my personality is almost nothing like Carlos’s, so I can put in facts from my background, but I have ask how Carlos reacts to those things because he’s not going to react the same why I do.

Also, because it’s been a hot topic lately, don’t write what you don’t know. If you’re not Mexican-American and you can’t develop this very complex knowledge for how your use of Spanish changes according to your life situation, so don’t try to write it in. No one will miss it. I love writing Paul, but there’s a limit to what I can write about him being trans and black. That’s okay. I just won’t write him as well as a black trans man, but I might write Carlos and Eddie better than that person. And seriously, don’t write Judd and Grace with a Texas accent if you have no experience. People will only notice if you get it wrong. Still do a lot of research so that you have some ideas in your head! And then don’t actually try to use it. I know that sounds like super-weird advice, but if you’re writing a different culture, that’s my best advice. There are so many traits that make up each character. For example, I can put in aspects of my background when I’m writing Eddie, but I’ve never personally served in the military, so I don’t highlight that part of his character. Also, since I’m here, people who have never done sex work should stop writing it and stop using imagery around it when writing sex scenes. It’s annoying and almost always wrong. Stop. I don’t outline and I make almost no notes until I get to the point of a verse being so big, that I have to make a timeline to keep everyone’s ages in line. I’m not there yet for my Lone Star fic. All kinds of notes and character things do just kind of stay in my head. It’s hard to explain, but that’s how it is. I write almost entirely chronologically. To be fair, I started writing fanfiction at age 14, I graduated with a degree in creative writing. I published my first book in 2009. I’ve always done this many things in my head. My characters were likely not always this well-formed. However, a lot of the character work I do in my head can totally be written down. If you’d like, you’re welcome to pick a character and I’ll write out a full character sheet with what’s going on in my head that influences how I write a character. (For any of my OCs, I could do this. For 911/Lone Star, I could do Eddie, Buck, TK, Owen, Carlos, and Judd the easiest.) One of the things I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about while writing Tunnel Vision is exploring what my different back story would change about Carlos. He’s purposely less closed off because in my opinion he learned to shut off emotion even more as a cop. I think this is evident in the show not just in the police station scene, but also in the finale when TK sort of ends the relationship. There’s no way he’s that okay with it, but you can see that he’s prepared himself for that response. (As opposed to the dinner scene where you see more emotion because he wasn’t prepared for that rejection.) As a teacher, I feel like he’d be a bit more open and better at communication, so I’ve made those little changes. That said, I think it’s obvious that dialogue is my jam. This is why I have to stay so, so far ahead of posting to be able to edit my own stuff. I write quickly and I leave out words and my brain will correct mistakes unless I step away from a section for at least two weeks. I also envision things so clearly in my head that I need that time away to realize when I need more description or when I need to use names instead of pronouns, etc. Sometimes I’ll add dialogue in editing but usually nothing major. One of my favorite things about writing fanfiction is that I can put out all kinds of extra scenes and points of view. I actually have some of these things for my published works just sitting in extra files because I’ve needed to write other points of few to get the reactions right. Anytime I write half a phone call, I always have the other side written somewhere. Anyway, wow this got really long so I’m going to stop rambling. Clearly I don’t mind asks like this is. Lol. I’m still almost completely quarantined and my girlfriend is out of town. Send me all the asks you want. lol

[wonderlustlucas]

greatest gift - park chanyeol

⇢ prompt I cannot form an answer with my lips because I am so focused on yours. ⇢ pairing chanyeol x female reader ⇢ word count 8.7k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected bathroom sex!, dirty talk, chan loves mirrors, borderline dom!pcy but it’s pretty soft, friends to lovers, christmas, i kind of got some classic white people at parties vibe but that may just be me, chanyeol in christmas pajamas ⇢ summary After years of being in love with your best friend’s cousin, Park Chanyeol, one certain Christmas party leads to some unbelievable confessions and activities in the bathroom that most certainly would get you on Santa’s naughty list.—christmas party!au ⇢ a/n merry belated christmas!! i apologize for the lateness... anyway. & happy new year!! :) for being almost 9k and for me taking 15 centuries to write i actually wrote this moderately quick so yay i hope u enjoy sex c christmas chanyeol

read the sequel here!

Judging by the blinding streaks of radiant sunlight penetrating through the blinds and the distant hum of activity from the streets outside your window, you have slept way longer than you bargained for. With a mesmerized sigh you soak in the warmth upon waking up, stretch your arms and yawn, shedding the remaining glimpses of a dream.

However, the sound of your phone ringing like an annoyed rattlesnake renders your peacefulness impossible, having awakened you in the first place, and you grudgingly reach blindly for the chiming nuisance.

“Hello?” You mumble into the speaker after kneading your eyes with your knuckles and swiping across the screen, the thick enchantment of sleep still clouding your brain.

“Jesus, ___, did you just wake up?” The obvious bewilderment in none other than Park Seoyun’s tone causes you to laugh groggily, only fueling her astonishment tenfold. “Wow, I’m glad I called when I did then,” she utters.

“Why? What’s up?” You ask, converting the call to speaker mode and resting the device on your chest. “Because you’re supposed to be ready in three hours?” She says, tone laced with annoyance. “You know, the Christmas party? The one you’ve gone to with me every year?”

Oh, yeah.

Ever since you were young, Seoyun has invited you to attend nearly all of her family’s gatherings throughout the years, a tradition that began as a nonchalant need of a friend’s company to survive the dreadful hours spent with family and friends she had no real interest in seeing.

Sad, how that works.

Of course, you would not complain, considering over the years you have bonded with her family just as much as your own.

“Pfft, of course,” you laugh in a weak attempt to blow off your forgetfulness, “I totally remembered. I’m on top of the game right now, Sunny. Nothing to worry about.”

“Mm,” she hums in faux belief, you can practically see her eyeroll, “Chanyeol asked if you were coming.”

Chanyeol? Park Chanyeol? Park fuck-me-in-every-way-known-and-unknown-to-man Chanyeol?

“Of course he did,” you scoff, trying to play off the way your heartbeat rapidly picks up at the thought of him asking whether you would be there as if you do not care, “I’ve only been to every one of your parties for like, the past fifteen years.”

Seoyun laughs. “Anyway, I’ll be over around five. Try not to take too long just so you can impress your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You shout in protest. At the silence that follows you realize she has already hung up. Bitch, you sigh, rolling over to check the time, sheets rustling loudly in your ears. The 2:00 pm blinking back at you from your digital clock takes a few moments to process through your brain before you realize just how badly you overslept and how much your sleep schedule is fucked.

Still, this cannot take the stupefied grin off your face.

It takes everything within you to kickstart your nerves into working, just some cereal and you’ll be on your way, you tell yourself, finally sweeping the ruffled blankets elsewhere and abandoning the warmth of bed. Walking out of the room, you make your way into the kitchen and wince at the momentarily blinding light bouncing off the windows before continuing on to unroll the bag of Honey Bunches of Oats and pour a hefty serving into a bowl, the scratching and ruffling of plastic filling the otherwise silent apartment.

Because even after eating, watching an episode of iCarly, and spending an unnecessarily prolonged time in the shower to shave, the thoughts racing through your brain are of one person and one person only: none other than Chanyeol.

Seoyun claims that it did not take her long to recognize your developing crush on her cousin, considering she had been shipping the two of you the second you told her that you thought he was cute in sixth grade.

According to her, the slaughter that your heart (and underwear, as you got older) endured every time you came twenty feet of the panty-dropping man was excruciatingly obvious and she forced the confession out of you like a fisherman casting mercilessly. Whether it was the effects of alcohol or solely the accumulation of being caught and needing to reveal everything to your best friend, you spilled everything to Seoyun after your first high school party without a hint of hesitation or embarrassment because let’s be real, there’s absolutely nothing shameful about being attracted to such a man.

Nonetheless, it was still terribly awkward. Not only is he Seoyun’s cousin, but Chanyeol has also always been a step ahead, considering he is three years older.

For example, years ago when he was starting university and you were only a junior in high school, you could have sworn that he was blatantly flirting with you over text only hours before he posted a picture with some gorgeous senior perched prettily on his lap. You mopped around for hours, and Seoyun’s only form of consolidation was, “Don’t worry. He’s a hoe.”

As if that helped.

Even before that, years prior when you were in eighth grade and he was a sophomore, you had joined Seoyun on her large family vacation for the first time. During movie night, you were curled up dangerously close to his chest and could not remember any of the horror film the following day considering you had prayed the entire time that he could not hear how your heart did somersaults in your chest or why your lower stomach squirmed every time his breath fanned against your neck. Weeks later, you cried yourself to sleep when you found out he had a new girlfriend, knowing it was way too good to be true for him to share your feelings when you were in middle school.

After all, you were just a ‘little sister’ to him.

Or, when the same event occurred only a few months ago, while you, Seoyun, and the rest of her cousins snuggled up to watch the new Jurassic World instead of going out for the third night in a row, Chanyeol eagerly leaped to sit beside you and, as a result of his dramatic begging, you became his pillow and slept through the night with his arms wrapped snuggly around your waist and his legs entangled with your own.

It would not have been so bad if you did not wake up with a boner pressing against your back.

Still, this excludes the random ab pictures sent over SnapChat if a conversation turned a certain direction, the videos of him playing a new song he would text, the intense checking-out, the questionable touches, the heart-stopping compliments, and so, so much more that has transpired over the years. And yet, the realization that hurts the most is not simply an attraction to a gorgeous man just out of reach, it is that you know that you love him.

If it was not for the years and personal time spent with him, you would have never developed such a raw emotion for Chanyeol. It would have never grown past a basic attraction. But no—his baby face mismatched with his deep voice, his bright personality that can lift the spirit of any room, the somewhat concerning way he still does not know how to handle his general largeness, his effortless ability to make anyone laugh, his unfailing kindness, his ears, his laugh. Oh, the list goes on and on.

The way he oozes natural charm fused with all the times and tiny memories spent together made for a solemn night several years ago where you had the incomprehensible realization that your universe starts and ends with Park Chanyeol.

Ever since they retired and moved into a smaller living space, Seoyun’s grandparents have held every holiday gathering in the common room of their apartment building. It’s convenient, free of charge, and, as a result of their first-class living, luxurious and very, very large.

After setting foot into the building’s first floor through the immaculately flawless glass doors and gawking at the pristine white marble floors, guests make their way to the common room just past the receptionist’s desk, where a woman sits in front of a computer, waiting drearily for her shift to end. The common room is like a perfect magazine cover with its linen white curtains, the kind of white untouched by hands and devoid of dust.

Upon entering said room, to the left is a fairly open space accessible for the Pollyanna gifts—aka where all the ladies in their mid-forties and fifties flock around like seagulls to discuss their favorite candle scents for the winter season.

To the right of this is a lounging area with a sofa, two loveseats, a long glass coffee table in the middle, and a fireplace against the wall. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides the facts that the leather of the couches and fur pillows appear to be real and that the fireplace’s mantel seems to contain enough expensive knickknacks to pay off student loans.

Past this is where the party really begins. Also known as the dining tables. Two huge mahogany tables with matching chairs take up most of the bright room’s space, left without a tablecloth and daring guests to ruin the perfectly varnished shine. Two tall, gold candelabras command attention from the center of each table, holding smooth white candles that go without being lit each year. To the right of the tables is a grand piano, shiny and pitch black against the white marble floors and white walls and waiting to be played. No one ever plays.

The far end of the common room is another lounging area, this one with an enormous television instead of an extravagant fireplace mantel. Next to this is the entrance to a small kitchen for the party to store and serve food “buffet style,” if so desired. Stainless steel appliances seemingly untouched by hands, brick walls painted white, and the same marble floor throughout the entire floor. Out of the kitchen, a hallway with two bathrooms leads back to the lobby.

Having been here so many times, walking in with Seoyun at your side is no problem. Even greeting all her family and their friends, albeit your awkwardness when it comes to being social, is not a problem. Trying to silence the animalistic sounds of your growling stomach until dinner is ready is also, surprise, ultimately not a problem.

Now, what is a problem, something that started as a minor concern during the first ten minutes after arriving but now consumes you alive, is that after two and a half fucking hours, Chanyeol has not spoken to you once.

At first, you thought he may have just not seen you. But after making eye contact for even a split second one too many times within the first hour, you know he had to of seen you. Even when you and Seoyun went over to stand by him and two more of her older cousins, he still refused to say a word. So now, as you sit alone on the leather sofa, angry, hurt, and trying to ignore a woman talking much too loudly about her new duvets while Seoyun is off doing God knows what, you have no other option but to just look around the luxurious room in order to occupy your thoughts in some way that does not end up going back to Chanyeol.

Deciding on the richly carved mantel of the fireplace just in front of you, you start from the exquisite plate-glass clock in the middle and scan to the right: a silver drinking-cup, a small oval portrait of a young woman framed in gold, and a crystal vase filled with white tulips. And then to the left: two dainty china figures of a lamb and a shepherd, a porcelain, heart-shaped box, a blue cloisonné pitcher, and several other bisque porcelain figures—a dachshund, a cat and kittens, and an angel.

Just as you are getting to the flower pots sparsely placed throughout the room, a flimsy box is suddenly flung onto your lap. When you look up, completely zapped out of your daze, Seoyun flops down beside you with a grimace.

“Pajama time,” she sighs, lifting the lid of her own box and pulling out the fuzzy Christmas top, “perhaps I’ll end my life now.”

Laughing, you do the same, amused and not as disappointed as you thought you would be when you lift the plain red long-sleeve shirt and plaid red and white pajama bottoms. “Hopefully it’ll be quick this year.”

One of Seoyun’s family Christmas traditions you have grown accustomed to is her grandmother buying all the children pajamas and forcing them into one big family photo, whether you are actually family or not. What many of you did not realize was that “children” simply meant the youngest generation.

So now, ranging between the age of two and twenty-eight, nearly half of the party’s guests have to stop what they are doing and change for the picture.

“I hope so, too,” she mutters, scowling as she watches a wave of guests head for the bathrooms, “come on. There’s a closet in the computer room where we could get changed.”

Nodding, you follow Seoyun to the hallway and head for the conveniently unoccupied computer room and shut yourselves in the dark closet before changing. “Are you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet,” she suddenly springs on you, effortlessly popping the bubble you have secluded yourself in. “What? No, I’m fine. Just tired… I guess,” you answer, laughing shakily as you pull the pajama bottoms up your legs. They are terribly snug around your butt.

Past the darkness speckling your vision, you can still see Seoyun glaring at you, seeing right through your bullshit. You take in a deep breath of the stale air.

“Just… I don’t know. I sound like a baby. Chanyeol has not said one word to me since we’ve been here,” you say, pushing your arms through the sleeves of the red shirt, “and I don’t know why, or if I did anything, or if he’s just being a dick. I have no clue.”

Seoyun exhales loudly, planting her hands firmly on her hips before, “Listen, I don’t know what is up with him, either. I know it’ll be hard, but don’t let him get to you. Just ignore him too, stop looking at him so he sees you don’t give a shit about him.”

“But I do give a shit,” you grumble, jutting your bottom lip out and staring at your feet.

“Well, today you don’t. Don’t let him win, okay? Show him you could care less,” she preaches, reaching out to pull you into a hug and you graciously take it. “Thanks. I’ll try,” you mumble into her neck, squeezing her tightly before stepping back and collecting your clothes.

“Ready for this picture?”

“I was born ready.”

You were not, in fact, ready. For as soon as you left the closet and met up with every other person dressed in ridiculous pajamas at the lobby, Chanyeol came sauntering in looking like he owned the damn place.

Even in Christmas pajamas, he still managed to look like a god.

Stop looking, you scolded yourself when he glanced over. And you did, turning away from where he stood and moving to the opposite side of the group for the twenty minutes it took until everyone was there for the picture. Huddling over one of Seoyun’s younger cousins, you smiled until your jaw was numb as every adult fumbled with their cell phone, proud that you managed to forget Chanyeol.

So, when you and Seoyun end up splitting up in search of another place to change since a young janitor had taken to cleaning the computer room, you were rather shocked to see that the only person in line for the bathroom was you. Perhaps everyone had gone home after the infamous picture.

But what is even more shocking is to watch disbelievingly as Park Chanyeol strolls towards you from the end of the hallway as you lean against the wall opposite of the women’s bathroom, waiting for whoever is inside to open the door. His entire walk you glare at him coldly, pulse quickly picking up as he gets closer.

After what seems like the walk to Calvary, he’s finally beside you.

“___,” he greets with an innocent smile, leaning on the wall with you and you wince, quickly looking away from him. From what you can see from your peripheral vision, he’s looking at you, yet you refuse to look back. There is simply no shot that you would so easily brush off the fact he has ignored you the past few hours, no matter how much you ache to.

“Aw, what?” Chanyeol whines after processing your lack of acknowledgment. He shifts closer, bare arm brushing yours and you cannot fight your shiver. So quickly you are putty in his hands. “Mad that I didn’t talk to you today?”

Yes. Biting your tongue to keep back the sarcasm that bubbles like acid at the back of your throat, you only grace him with an icy glance before crossing your arms and returning your gaze to the door across from where you stand. “Don’t be like that,” he grumbles, voice unacceptably low as he stoops down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Brain on overdrive at his proximity, you finally look at him with his big puppy eyes and sigh, “Say you’re sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” he smirks, eyes bright with triumph. What a child.

The hot annoyance burning its way through your veins only intensifies and you shrug his head off your shoulder, sidestepping further away and praying for whoever is occupying the restroom to hurry their ass up. When a quiet protest slips past his lips, you look over at him, head pounding because why does he have to be such a dick and why does he look so good?

You simply cannot fight it, the way your gaze mindlessly travels up his body, albeit the dumb Christmas pajamas that just barely stretch over his build, scanning over the proportions of his frame, lingering on how taut the white tee-shirt is against the expanse of his shoulders and chest, and finally struggling to settle back onto his face. When you meet Chanyeol’s eyes, you know he knows, for you were far from nonchalant.

When a noise analogous to a growl resounds from his throat, you are momentarily blindsided, seeing stars, as this was the last reaction you expected and yet, your nausea only triples when he takes two long strides to stand beside you. No—not beside you. In the blink of an eye Chanyeol is against you, hands reaching for your waist and pushing you back with enough force that a gasp escapes you upon impact with the wall. Or, maybe that was simply the shock from it all.

“You know,” Chanyeol mutters, voice so dangerously deep your stomach churns, “I did that on purpose. I like watching how you react to me.”

“Excuse me?” You laugh, sounding way more out of breath than you would like to as you stare wide-eyed at him, fear of the unexpected rooted deep in your stomach. Your mind simply cannot process his words or understand why he takes your change of clothes bunched up in your fist and drops it on the floor with his own. “You heard me,” he smirks, hands gliding lower, lower, lower, oh, you find purchase gripping his biceps when his fingers dare to press into the flesh of your ass, “I can read you like a book. Sometimes,” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “I feel like I know you better than you know yourself.”

Every ounce of breath seems to be stolen from your lungs, floating in the air as he speaks, you cannot seem to think with him like this and the acceptance that you are simply a piece in his game of chess angers the sensible part of you. “That sounds like manipulation to me,” you finally say, cocking your head to the side and staring up at him with a certain hardness in your gaze. “Mm,” he hums, seemingly pondering for a moment before ducking down to press his lips under your jaw, placing a sloppy kiss to the tender skin before, “like I said, I enjoy watching. You can’t catch my hints to save your life, so I had to switch things up.”

Your mind is in no shape to process his words with his mouth on your throat, so quickly he tarnishes the skin there, bruising with bright magentas and deep violets and God, what about hints? Squeezing your eyes shut, you cannot help but wonder if this is it—the straw that breaks the camel’s back, shatters the vase and shakes the earth—whether you are stuck in some disturbingly unfair dream or if this is all happening because he somehow feels the same.

“You’re quiet again,” Chanyeol grunts, deserting your throat to meet your gaze and the curiosity softening his features has you weak in the knees, “what are you thinking?”

You swallow, overwhelmed, studying the hesitance that crosses his beautiful face before breathing, “I really can’t think when the only thing I’m focused on is your lips.”

That’s it. The chord inside him finally snaps and Chanyeol closes the distance, silencing the heavy breaths that leave your lips with his own. Twelve years still were not enough to prepare either of you for this moment. A sensation akin to the explosion of fireworks, kissing Chanyeol has a burst of vivid, fizzing sparks coursing through your veins and coloring your insides. The urgency of the kiss—opening his mouth with yours, his hands returning to knead your ass and pull you closer, your hands wrapping into his shirt—translates into a sort of unspoken mutual understanding that settles into the core of your heart, affirming that this should have happened a long time ago.

Chanyeol breaks away to trail his lips lower than before and your whimper of protest at the loss of just kissing him is quickly cut off with a gasp when he licks the indent of your collarbone, working back up your neck to slide over your jaw. When he pauses at the side of your mouth to offer you some recovery time and raises his eyes to meet yours, you gather the courage to tenderly cup his face in your hands and plant a softer kiss on his lips. In response he exhales in relief, hugging his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as his tongue finds its way working against your own once more.

Certainly, you must have died and gone to heaven to experience such bliss.

Warmth blooming in your chest, your hand slides away from his jaw to the nape of his neck, tugging at the hair there and Chanyeol gasps into the kiss, immediately responding with his lips moving and pressing in such a way that has your head positively swimming. Just like that, you are drowning in warm, heavy air as the dizzy sense of euphoria shifts into desire welling within you when he bites your lower lip, tugging it into his mouth to suck on. “I can’t believe,” he breathes against your lips, breaking away to stare down intensely into your eyes, “this is the first time we’re doing this.”

“In the hallway of your grandpa’s apartment lobby, to boot,” you laugh breathlessly, searching Chanyeol’s face for the emotion hidden beneath the darkening of his stare. You’re somewhere in between losing yourself to his lips roughly tumbling over the apple of your throat and dragging your fingers under his shirt, hands cool against the burning heat of his back, when the bursting open of the bathroom door across from where you stand turns the hot moment to ice. Scrambling to get away from one another, you and Chanyeol start in a frantic series of yelps, kicking limbs, and pat-downs before you urge yourself to glare at whoever occupied the single woman’s restroom for such an excruciatingly long time.

Gaze softening once you recognize that it is one of Seoyun’s distant cousins and her young daughter, you watch with a new wave of embarrassment flushing over you as her eyes flick back and forth between you and Chanyeol, both clearly riled up and panting, before leading her toddler in the opposite direction as she bites against a knowing grin. For a long moment you watch her go, the reality of what just took place sinking to the pit of your stomach and you trace your swollen bottom lip with the pad of your finger, clenching your eyes shut to somehow burn the touch of his lips into your mind forever.

Chanyeol’s loud exhale somewhere besides you cuts your daydreaming off short, and you turn to look at him as the fire in your veins starts to dwindle into ash. “We just,” you start, voice catching in your throat and sounding much weaker than you intended, “what was that?”

Having him off of you gives you unfiltered access to stare at him, pupils blown and his breath coming sharply, and your gaze subconsciously travels down the length of his body in order to engrave the image of how beautiful he looks in this moment onto your brain for eternity until, oh, you finally take notice to the bulge that the thin material of his pajama bottoms do little to hide. Seeing this, you at last register the hot drip of desire between your legs and the way your body trembles with uncontainable want.

“I… I don’t know,” Chanyeol admits, his low, hoarse voice draining any control you had left, “I would like to do it again, though.”

Do it, please, please do it, you want to say, pulse jump-starting at his declaration. Instead, you are rendered speechless, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, with the muffled hum of festive celebration from his family just around the corners. In a sudden act of impromptu bravery, you bundle your clothes—his, too—into your arm from the floor and stretch over to grab his wrist before quickly kicking open the bathroom door and hurrying him inside after you.

“Let me get this straight,” you start once the door clicks shut, voice suddenly booming in the small confines of the bathroom and Chanyeol jerks in surprise when you slam the clothes onto the floor with an ungratifying thump, “what is going on here? Because that was not a normal kiss—that was like… a sicko mode kiss. And I mean, you have to know by now I have the biggest crush on you, no, actually, I’m totally in love with you. So if you’re just doing this to mess with me, then I don’t know wh—"

Overwhelmed but enamored by your quick, almost unintelligible spiel, Chanyeol figures his best bet at shutting you up is returning his hands to your hips to pull you flush against him and latching his lips to yours, capturing your mouth and train of thought in such a deep kiss it sucks all the air out of your lungs. Instantly, your fingers thread through his hair, lost once more to him—his musky fragrance, the sinful way his tongue wraps around yours, the effortless manner he lifts you up onto the marble countertop.

“Can I take this off?” He asks suddenly, breathless as he pulls away, fingers toying the hem of your tee-shirt up your back. Afraid your words would come off as a croak, you only nod, trying to reel yourself in on how oddly polite his question is juxtaposing to the darkness of his hungry eyes. In one quick motion, Chanyeol helps rid you of the garment, tossing it to join your change of clothes on the freezing tiles. Sighing at the sight, he brings his hands to your chest, lost in the way you shiver beneath his featherlight touches tracing the column of your throat, coasting over your collar bones and finally to the swell of your breasts spilling out from the underwhelmingly mediocre beige bra. It’s with yet another surge of bravery and desire do you reach behind you, fumbling to undo the clasps and watching as Chanyeol’s stare turns to something predatory as he soaks it all in.

“That’s just unfair,” he groans, hesitating, for he fears that if he reaches out and touches you this way, you will break under his fingers like a porcelain doll. In the end, he realizes he is being foolish—he knows you’re here to stay—and at last brings himself to stand between your legs. Finally. Your breathing turns heavy when his mouth starts its ravishing once more, nipping and sucking tender marks down your jaw and at the junction of your neck and shoulder. At last, his lips meet your breast and he does not hesitate in taking a bud gently between his teeth, rolling the other into a hard peak between his index finger and thumb. This time you cannot suppress your moan.

“Oh,” you swear, “fuck.”

Smirking against your skin, Chanyeol relishes in the sound, eyes heavy-lidded and blood pumping hotly under his skin as he bites a violet blossom on the mound of flesh before switching sides. “Chanyeol,” you whine, nails digging crescents into his arms when the sparks tingling up and down your spine seek for more. The sound of your voice, so weak, so needy, has his dick twitching against the restraint of his boxers and he growls into your skin before pulling away.

“___,” he starts, voice gruff as his hands come on either side of you, laid flat against the cold marble to cage you in, “I’ve fantasized about this moment for years, and I have to say I never once imagined it would be at our Christmas party.”

He pauses, gently taking your hands in his and helping you off the sink before hurriedly turning around to lock the door. Your heart suddenly seems to be surging electricity through your veins rather than pumping blood. When he steps closer again, he unexpectantly spins you around, hands splayed across your stomach to keep you upright, forcing you to take in the reflection in the mirror.

“On vacation, I’ve imagined waiting until everyone’s left to fuck you in the sand,” he starts slowly. Your eyes almost roll back into your head at the sheer audacity of his words. “Or, at Seoyun’s twenty-first birthday party. You had no idea how badly I wanted to rip that dress off and fuck you against the bar in front of everyone to see.” By now, you are shaking, knees ready to buckle under the weight of his words and yet you cannot find it in yourself to look away from the pink swell of his lips and the words that slip past them.

“I thought you would have caught on this summer when you woke up with my cock digging into your ass,” Chanyeol hums, nuzzling into your neck, “all night I had to keep myself from stealing you away and making that your favorite vacation yet. So tempting, you are.”

You press your legs together and swallow past the dryness of your throat.

“You seem to have forgotten that I’ve been waiting for this since I was like, twelve,” you sigh, his intoxicating touch making it rather hard to breathe, “well, not this. But having you. Being able to love you and… you know. Call you mine.”

“You’ve always had me, though. Always been yours,” he returns quietly, endearingly, and presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder. At this, you take a moment to try and memorize what the mirror reflects: the heavy breathing you share, untamed hair and swollen lips, cheeks over-heated, his hands traveling softly up and down the expanse of your abdomen in an oddly unfitting but appreciated act of gentleness, skin damp with a light sheen of perspiration and the cute curls of his dark bangs contrasting harshly to the heaviness in his eyes.

Washed in a warm glow from the dim overhead lights, you almost look untouchable together.

“It hasn’t always seemed that way,” you say, bitter, for all these years have passed of you hopelessly in love with him, “where we really both that dumb to never see it?”

Chanyeol blinks, understanding, before his grip on your waist tightens and he exhales on your neck once again before, quietly, “Let me prove it?”

His hot whisper against the side of your neck only causes a stronger wave of arousal to suck you in and you’re suddenly weak in the knees, the coil in your core winching tighter. Answering his question with only a miniscule nod, you are hardly able to form a response by the time Chanyeol is tilting your head to face him and melding his mouth to your own once more before nudging you forward, pressing you into the edge of the sink. His hands are quick to tug his shirt over his head and he does not even grace you with enough time to worship his figure as he is already crouching down, reaching around your hips to untie the knot of your pajama bottoms and shimmy them down your legs. An utterly embarrassing whimper leaves your throat when Chanyeol’s fingers hook around the elastic of your panties, yanking them down in an unceremonious rush.

You almost miss the gorgeous that slips past his lips when he rises back to his full height to admire you, licking his lips and surveying you with such a lecherous glint to his eyes that you quite literally feel yourself become wetter. “You okay?” He asks, pressing his chest to your back and growing harder just from watching you stare dumbly back at him with your fucked-out expression and he’s barely even touched you yet, every atom of your being vibrating with need as his hand travels tauntingly slow toward your center.

“M’perfect,” you gasp as he draws a featherlight line up your slit with the pad of his finger, “just perfect.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Chanyeol purrs in your ear, arm tense as a wire as it balances holding you upright and parting open your folds. Oh God he’s going to be inside me you think just as his middle finger finishes toying at your entrance and finally presses in enough to easily slide in to the knuckle. Your hands scramble to grip the lip of the sink as a moan tears from your throat, a shiver wracking your figure when he effortlessly adds a second finger to add to the delicious stretch.

“You are,” you rasp, squeezing your eyes shut when he takes care to draw a rough circle to your clit, “such an asshole.”

“How so?” Chanyeol chuckles darkly in your ear as you greedily roll into his hand to meet his thrusts and suddenly his shoulders are trembling. His control is chipping away at a much faster rate than he had hoped.

“You’ve kept me waiting—fuck,” you hiss when he dares to dig deeper, “all this time.”

His pace is absolutely agonizing, swirling his fingers as he pulls them out, massaging your clit for only a heartbeat before pressing back inside of you again. “How do you think I feel?” He growls back, ignoring how you whimper and writhe under him as he finally pulls out of you to ruthlessly flick at the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Chanyeol,” you sob quietly, arms trembling violently and knuckles white as you grasp the sink impossibly harder, “ngh, Chanyeol, please.”

“You look so pretty like this,” he sighs, other hand coming up to stroke strands of hair away from your face, “I bet you’d look even prettier with my cock stuffed in you.”

“Fuck, fuck,” you whine, clenching around nothing as the tight coil begins to unravel and you manage to choke out, “if, fuck, if you want that to happen you have—you have to stop.”

“Mm,” Chanyeol contemplates, obsessed with the idea of making you cum like this but also dying to bury himself within your velvet walls, “alright.” Not that he wouldn’t pay up to do both.

Next time.

With the muscles in his arm beginning to grow tired, he finally relents after a particularly brutal flick that leaves your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Without the sticky press of his body against yours and the relief of his fingers off of your cunt, you are left to shiver again, sucking on your bottom lip viciously to try and recover from the earth-shattering pleasure that still smolders like a forest fire in your core and ignites your nerves. You turn slightly to focus your gaze on Chanyeol as he stares, breathless, at the floor, chest erratically rising and falling and hand glistening as a result of your arousal. Finally, you can appreciate his figure in a different light, mesmerized by every curve and indent of muscle glistening with sweat. It is during this moment of adoration that you decide that Chanyeol’s shoulders are your next favorite thing, second to his ears.

Well, maybe your third, you remind yourself when his length, arching impressively long and thick beneath his pajamas, catches your eye. Ignoring the fragility that has your bones rattling, you cannot help but reach out for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your bare chest to his, breathing out a relieved sigh against his skin. He shivers, and you realize he is just as shaken up as you are no matter how sturdy his hold feels once his arms curl around your waist.

“You said you’re in love with me?” He suddenly asks, voice vulnerable as if he fears you are going to take everything back and desert him. “For as long as I can remember,” you swear honestly, it really has always been him, and lean up to skim your lips along the sharp angle of his jaw. Chanyeol exhales shakily and curls his fingers into your sides when you reach the soft nook under his ear and suck at the skin, proud that you can reciprocate the same effect he has on you.

Laving your tongue over the bite once you are satisfied with the mark, you step back until you can sit on the edge of the marble countertop, heart racing a mile a minute as he loosens the tie of his bottoms just enough so he can drop them to his ankles. “Cute,” you pipe, regarding his Santa-spotted boxers and ignoring the rush of heat to your already drenched core. Grinning at your comment, Chanyeol ultimately shuts you up when he tugs down his last article of clothing, his now unclothed length red and angry when it slaps against his stomach.

“Wow,” you say without remorse, staring only a second more before dragging your gaze up to his eyes, “I knew you had an award-winning dick!”

“You can’t just say that kind of stuff,” Chanyeol chuckles, guiding you to stand before turning you to face the mirror. Then, in a tone lower than you have ever known it, “Are you still on the pill?”

Impressed with how he happened to remember such a minute detail about your life, you offer a tiny nod, suddenly feeling flushed and dizzy all over again because how is this real?

“Thank God,” he says, leaning over your shoulder to kiss you and once more you cannot think or breathe with all the love and adoration loaded into one kiss. After pulling away and pressing a firm hand on your back to further bend you over, Chanyeol groans at the sight of your breasts swaying so enticingly at this angle, but redirects his attention to taking hold of his cock and dragging it along your slick center, coating it in your juices and his precum. You nearly jump at the contact, a shock of electricity darting up your spine at the realization that this is really, truly happening.

You have only just registered him carefully positioning himself to your entrance by the time Chanyeol is rolling his hips forward, slowly dragging against your velvet walls and filling you to the brim. “Oh my God,” you breathe, followed by a series of moans that tumble past your parted lips.

“Fuck me,” Chanyeol groans past gritted teeth, thrusting into you at a slow pace with you clenching so tightly around him. “I am,” you simper, dragging your eyes up from the floor to see his disappointed eye roll as your core slowly but surely loosens around him. “Still rude, even with my dick in you.”

You are keenly aware of Chanyeol leisurely drawing his cock almost completely out of you, nestling just barely within your entrance before slamming back in to draw a high-pitched cry past your open mouth. “Baby, you have to be quiet,” Chanyeol rumbles from above you, voice like thunder in the small bathroom as the powerful, rough tilts and thrusts of his hips ease slower but harder.

The fire in your stomach that had begun to simmer down after his fingers had left you only minutes before suddenly consumes you whole, pleasure washing over you hotly with each thrust of his cock past your slick walls. You’re a panting, mewling mess in no time, euphoria fizzling in your abdomen and shooting up your spine when the hand that is not anchoring you in place dips to brush against your throbbing clit.

“Look at me, baby,” Chanyeol shudders, fucking into you relentlessly, “please look at me when you cum.”

With your fingers growing numb as a result of your iron grip on the sink, you blink away the stars clouding your vision and focus on his face, strands of obsidian hair damp with beads of sweat that trickle down his sideburns, cheeks flushed and glowing rosy, and his soft features struggling to hide the haze sitting over his mind of how incredible you feel as your walls start to tighten around him once more.

“___,” he moans, hands curling into the dips of your waist to rock your body in synch with his drives, “I hope you know I love you more.”

This is all you need to hurl you over the edge. The coil within your core winding tighter and tighter suddenly snaps at his words harmonizing with a particularly hard thrust against your g-spot. For a blissfully long moment, all you see is searing light freckling your vision, body trembling as your orgasm washes over you. Chanyeol moans sharply at the feel of you clenching so impossibly tight around him, throwing his head back and praying to memorize your loud cry.

Ensuring you ride out every second of your climax on his cock, Chanyeol sloppily thrusts into you, chasing after his own high at the sight of you so blissfully fucked-out in the mirror. He quickly follows, coming inside of you with a harsh shudder. Limbs growing weak with pleasure coursing hotly through your veins, you remain in your bent position, eyes widened in adoration as you watch him give one last feeble thrust into your raw cunt to finish out his high.

Then, he draws out of your walls, trails of his pearly cum seeping out with it, and a rush of air escapes your lungs. The moments that follow are peaceful, quiet to catch your breath and not once do you worry that any of what just occurred was a mistake.

When you finally heave one last breath and open your eyes, you spin around to Chanyeol, who leans utterly exhausted against the wall. “Hey,” he smiles innocently when he looks up, all the lust that had darkened his features completely draining away. In its place is his usual soft goofiness. “Hi,” you reply, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist.

There is no roughness in this kiss. Instead, it’s deep and longing and reassuring in that this was not a one-time thing.

“If this doesn’t make you my boyfriend, I think I’ll have to end my friendship with Seoyun,” you breathe against his lips before reclining back to meet his eyes. He chuckles, hand dropping to pinch your ass and you yelp, jerking closer to him and away from his hand as he retorts, “This better make me your boyfriend. I don’t know what else I’d have to if it didn’t. I’m all out of ideas.”

“Yah,” you grumble, planting your hands against his chest to push yourself off of him, “or, you could’ve just flat out confessed.”

Chanyeol raises a brow, watching as you clasp your bra back on, “Hey, I’m not the only one who goes without blame. You could have said something sooner, too.”

“Yeah, whatever. We’re both dumb,” you grumble, sitting down to pee while simultaneously pulling your sweater back over your head. You watch on, calmly, naturally, as he dresses himself back to his regular clothes before standing to do the same.

“I don’t want to go back out,” Chanyeol whines, bumping his hip to yours to make room so he can wash his hands with you, “I wanna stay here with you.”

“In the women’s bathroom? Really?” You laugh disbelievingly, running your hands through your hair to somehow not only tame it, but lay it so it covers the love bites higher up on your throat. Groaning at your dumb sense of humor, Chanyeol waits for you to zip up your boots, not even bothering to explain what he meant, before gathering your pajamas with his and cracking open the door to check if the coast is clear.

“Good?” You whisper, clinging to his back. When he nods, you head out into the hallway together, clinging to his side like a koala and barely blinking an eye when his fingers intertwine with yours, his hand snugly enveloping your own. With a different wave of warmth blooming in your chest and up to your cheeks, you yank Chanyeol to the wall just before the corner, smothering his lips with yours and curling his sweater in your fists.

“Are we telling them… or just winging it?” You whisper, drawing back when his tongue threatens to slip past the seam of your lips. Too soon to get lost in his taste again, no matter how sweet he tastes against your lips.

There would be plenty of time for that later, anyway.

“Act natural now, but,” he murmurs, staring down at you with so much marvel weighted in his gaze you feel as if you may implode, “maybe by the end of this damn thing they’ll know.”

“Okay,” you agree, leaning up to peck his top lip one more time before continuing on through the empty kitchen and into the main room, ignoring the faint thrumming coming from your groin. Navigating through the dwindling crowd, you first make a pit stop to grab your cell phone where you left it on a coffee table before seeking out a spot on the sofa. Not even two seconds after sitting down, it dings with notifications.

[9:04 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: I can’t believe I can kiss you whenever I want now

[9:04 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: I miss you already

[9:04 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: even though I can see you rn

Your head snaps up, dying to find him and unable to hide your smile. Once you find him across the room, looking unfairly delicious for someone who just had their dick inside you, he winks. You grin, looking back down when your phone buzzes again.

[9:05 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: I want everyone to know ur my wifeyyyy

[9:05 PM] YN: yeol its been like

[9:05 PM] YN: a minute

[9:05 PM] YN: and slow down there, tiger. i need the ring first

[9:05 PM] YN: but don’t worry. they’ll know soon:’)

“___!” Shouts a familiar voice and you jump, scrambling to shut off your phone before searching over the cluster of guests until you find Seoyun waving near the piano. You make your way over, grabbing a bowl of potato chips on the way.

“Hey, where have you been? Took you an awfully long time to change,” she asks as soon as you are close enough, suspicious, “you missed Pollyanna.”

“Sorry, I, uh…” you trail off, frantic, mind drawing a blank as you try to think of a reasonable excuse, “had to—”

“She was with me,” a gruff voice cuts in, thick with smugness as his hand slaps onto your shoulder. Face draining of color you side glance to Chanyeol who stands closely behind you, his other hand sliding to hook his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans. When you dare to slowly look back to Seoyun, her gaze follows the path of his hand, processing, before focusing back on your face with raised brows. Then, “What are these?” She gasps, reaching to pull the collar of your sweater down, exposing a splotch of purple blossoming across your skin.

“Ay!” You grumble, smacking her hand away and jerking closer to Chanyeol. “You guys… seriously?” Seoyun grumbles disappointedly, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. You tilt your head up to Chanyeol for help, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he gives a lopsided grin.

“It took you guys this fucking long just to fuckin a bathroom at our Christmas party?” She hisses, planting her hands on her hips as she bellows out a disbelieving laugh.

“We’re dating,” Chanyeol announces loudly once she has stopped snickering to herself like a lunatic. So loud, in fact, that a few heads close enough spin to see just who is dating who.

You suddenly wish the floor would swallow you up.

Seoyun nearly chokes. “Well, then,” she coughs, rocking on her heels, “shove a quarter up my ass because I just played myself.”

Her face softens when she watches Chanyeol securely wrap his arms around you from his spot behind you. She sighs. “I knew it was going to happen soon. You guys have been all over each other this past year. I’m pretty sure half the family has been waiting for this,” Seoyun beams, eyes twinkling joyously, “except you didn’t get a shot of getting one of Julia’s Italian cookbooks as a gift.”

“Fuck, man. I really wanted to add another to my collection,” Chanyeol fake whimpers and you laugh with Seoyun. “What’d you get?” You ask her, pouting in disappointment when Chanyeol unwinds his arms to stand next to you.

“Don’t be jealous, but,” she pauses, digging into her pocket before pulling out an Amazon gift card, “I actually got the best gift, to be honest. All the other shit was dumb knickknacks. Key chains and shit.”

“Seoyun!” Someone calls from behind you before you can express your envy. She grits her teeth.

“I’ll talk to you lovebirds in a bit. Mom needs me,” she sighs, giving your hand a squeeze as she moves past you.

Only a heartbeat later Chanyeol is stepping in front of you. “Sorry you missed out getting a gift,” he frowns, dropping his hands to hold yours but pauses when he realizes you are still holding the basket of potato chips, “I hope you’ll still have a merry Christmas.”

You laugh, brows drawing together when he seizes the basket out of your hands to place on top of the piano albeit the please keep things off piano sign. “Seriously? Nobody could ruin this Christmas even if they tried.”

When Chanyeol leans in close, resting his forehead against yours and sharing your breath, your fingers run down his spine to pull him close. The world falls always when he kisses you again, soft and slow and comforting in ways that words would never be. With his hand resting just below your ear, thumb caressing your cheek, you cannot help but smile against his lips when you feel the beating of his heart against your chest.

“Love you,” Chanyeol whispers.

Screw Pollyanna. In the end, you got the greatest gift of them all.

[fangirling-throughlife]

Sant Jordi (World's Book Day)

Summary: Shawn falls for a Valencian girl who's an enormous bookworm.

A/N: as today (well, it's past 12, so technically it was yesterday) is Sant Jordi (a festivity in Spain, specially in Aragón and Catalonia), a day commemorating the World Book Day (because of the anniversary of the death of Shakespeare, Miguel de Cervantes and Garcilaso de la Vega), I thought of this little idea. I'm from Valencia (where the girl is from), so it's just almost 2k of publicity for my city and my language (Catalan). So, if anybody is going to visit or would like to visit the city, I'll be happy to answer any questions. Also, I'm a big bookworm, which is why it's about books and St. Jordi. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1795 words

One of the first things Shawn learned about Anna was her unending love for books. She didn’t mind when it happened, where she was or in whose company, she always had a book between her hands. She couldn’t leave the house without something to read, and Shawn had learned that the hard way. During Christmas he had flown out to Valencia, her hometown, to spend some time with her, as he would be starting tour soon, so he wouldn’t have the time to see his girl, who was busy with her classes. One night, between Christmas and New Year, he took her out to have dinner and watch a movie. They arrived late to the restaurant, because she realised she didn't have her book with her when they were on their way for 10 minutes.

It isn't surprising, though, considering where he met her. She spent the summer in Toronto, studying English, and she went to a little book shop next to Shawn's building two or three times a week. Shawn saw her one day, roaming the aisles full of shelves and talking to Leonard, the owner, as if she were an old friend, and was intrigued immediately. He noticed she usually was there between 18 and 20, so he went outside around those hours, hoping to see her.

He looked at her black hair, her dark-brown eyes hidden behind considerably thick glasses and her tanned skin. He knew her features so well that he saw her when he closed his eyes. At one point, he started feeling like a stalker, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. He noticed that she wasn't Canadian three weeks after he saw her for the first time, when she left the shop one day talking on her phone. He didn't recognize the language, though he was sure it wasn't French (he surely would've recognized some words). All he knew was that it was beautiful and melodic, so it had to be something between French, Italian and Spanish. He realised that she would be leaving soon (he asked Brian when college started generally, as she was giving off some big nerdy college girl vibes), so he decided he had to talk to her before she did. One day, after he checked she was inside, he entered and talked to her, pretending to be looking for a gift for Aaliyah. He asked for her advice, which she gave very excitedly, and, after 30 minutes, he found the courage to ask her out to have a drink.

If Shawn loved the idea of her, after “stalking” her for three weeks, he fell for her the moment she talked to him. He was surprised when she admitted she knew his music, because she was completely cool with the fact that Shawn Mendes himself asked her out. She talked about her dream to become a writer, or, at least, an editor, and he talked about how much he loved writing music. They kept on seeing each other every night after her classes for the last 10 days she spent in the city.

By the time she had to go back to Valencia, the both of them were deeply in love with each other. The only thing stopping him from buying a ticket to go see her were the multiple commitments he had for the next months. The first time he could go see her was end-October, for her birthday. When he got to Valencia and she showed the city to him, he understood her personality. She mirrored the beauty of her city perfectly. He quickly noticed the duality of it: it's got the characteristics of a big city as well as of a small provincial town. It combines century-old history in the centre with a modern and vibrant side more outside. Just like he expected (just by knowing her) the people were nice and welcoming. For the first time in ages, he could enjoy some time without being “the Rockstar” all the time, as people seemed to be very chill about him being there.

As tour started in Amsterdam in March (she didn't have so much work around that time), he made sure she was there for the two first shows. She didn't have any classes for a whole week afterwards, but as she quickly explained to him, “It's Fallas, I can't miss that. Plus, I've already said yes to a billion plans, I won't even be free.”  So, from the 15th till the 20th of March, he would find after every single show pictures of his bookworm girlfriend at parties, in front of statues that, according to her, were “a form of art, and satire” (he would have to see them with his own eyes, and maybe actually understand her language to conceive that very deep meaning she was trying to explain). She sent him awfully long videos of fireworks displays, every night longer than the previous one. Through her camera and his screen he was dragged into the festivities of Fallas, something he definitely needed to experience by himself.

His favourite moment of March, though, was the show in Barcelona. She didn't answer the phone for hours, making him anxious, but she appeared out of thin air backstage, sharing a mischievous smile with Brian. Later, he found out that they had been plotting against his sanity for the past hours. That day he saw her really get into the show and the atmosphere. She was fluent in both French and English, but in Barcelona she could speak her native languages, Spanish and Catalan. She surely didn't notice, but he did: she opened up, she chatted with fans and won them over with her charming personality. After all, she was talking to her people. She freaked out when Aitana came backstage and asked for a picture with her “please, please, please” . That day, he knew that the love for her culture would always be enormous.

She couldn't make it to the final show in London, because she had an exam on Thursday and the combination of trains, flights and busses was simply impossible, so she just watched it from a video call with Brian. She saw her boy be sick and told him to stay hydrated, she told him how proud she was, but she couldn't help but feel awful because she wasn't there, with all his family and loved ones. When he announced, after the show, that he was going back to Toronto in the morning, she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. One part of her understood him completely. He had been away for such a long time that he needed to be in his own bed to recharge. He had studio sessions and SNL coming up, so she shouldn't be surprised that he wasn't coming. He still called her every single day and night, he asked about her classes (didn't she tell him they had 2 weeks of Easter Holiday?) and about the city (the weather was awful, so she didn't leave the house).

The one subject he seemed to avoid was the most pressing one considering the time of the year. To Anna, the most important festivity (even though it wasn't a national holiday, it should be, in her opinion) was St. Jordi. She remembered with a smile the story she heard every year at school. And, even though there were two official days to celebrate love in Valencia (the historical one, Sant Dionís, on October 9th, and the globalised one, Saint Valentine, on February 14th), she considered Sant Jordi, on April 23rd, the one true lover's day. The traditional gifting of a rose and a book was, in her opinion, the most romantic gesture in a relationship. Well, she didn't really care about the rose (although she couldn't deny the fact that she was a hopeless romantic and she loved to get a rose), she was always eager to know what the book would be. It was also the first Sant Jordi since she started dating Shawn, so she was terrified. Hadn't she made it clear how important the day was to her? He didn't have to fly over, he could just ship a book, or even send her a gift card so she could buy the books herself.

When midday passed on the 23rd, she decided she wouldn't be waiting for him to call alone sitting on her couch. Even though it was raining (surprise, “En abril, aigües mil” (in April, it rains a lot)), she took her umbrella and raincoat and walked to the book fair. All the stress she had been building for the past weeks vanished when she saw the thousands of books in front of her. She quickly started to look (not buy, that's her strategy: first looking and then deciding on the purchase), and she almost forgot about her boyfriend who'd forgotten about this special day.

But, the same way she kept quiet for the entire day when she went to see him in Barcelona, he didn't talk to her while he was getting to Valencia. Even though he didn't think she'd be at home, he tried, and his suspicions were confirmed by her sister. So, he immediately left for the book fair. With the help of her sister, he found her without attracting too much attention to himself. She was reading the first chapter of a book she seemed to be considering, a second one in her hand to check up on later. He slightly chuckled, because she's the only person who would stop to read the first chapter of a book before deciding on buying or not. He immediately froze, but relaxed rapidly, as his chuckle didn't give away his presence. When she finally was done, she returned one of the books to its place and turned to take her wallet. That moment, she was met with the view of Shawn Mendes with a red rose, her favourite, and a copy of her favourite author's new book. At first, she couldn't believe it, until he walked up to her and whispered in her ear, “it's not that funny to be kept in the dark for so long, isn't it?” She laughed, knowing he was talking about her's and Brian's stunt in Barcelona, promising herself she would never do it again. “It's not. I thought you didn't remember.” She confessed. “That was my whole idea.” She couldn't help but glare at him, but he quickly pressed his lips onto hers, smiling in the kiss. “Feliç dia del Llibre, amor”. (Happy Book Day, love) Shawn said, proud of himself for remembering the phrase completely. She chuckled (he didn't understand why, though, his pronunciation had been excellent), and answered. “Feliç dia de Sant Jordi, amor.” (Happy St. George day, love).

[lil-papaya-tifosi]

A/N: Dezzy: Hey everyone! We're back with another OS! Technically, according to the request, it is a kind of part 2 of Nice Boys, similar scenario but with Tae and Kookie. This is actually the first thing on here that Sunnie and I have written together, so we're really excited to share it with you. Little mix up when it was posted, but it should be all fixed now. We hope you like it!

Sunnie: Hey Everybody, we're finally uploading this little baby. I must say we had a lot of fun writing this so I really hope you'll love it as much as you loved Nice Boys. This OS was born from an Request so thanks to @pillowiestar for requesting it. Dezzy pretty much explained everything so the only thing I can add from my side is that I also hope you'll like it. And thanks for reading it.

Word Count: 7,568

Warnings: Sub/Dom themes, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, squirting, face riding, lotsa dirty talk, slight impreg kink at the end, bondage, dp, threesome

Summary: When your neighbors get too rowdy late at night you decide to go over to teach them a lesson, but it seems that they don't want to play games anymore.

You bury your head under your pillow again as your neighbors let out the next cry of victory. Rather, it was Taehyung's shout of joy while Jungkook complained loudly about the lost round. This has been going on for 2 hours now. You could always say exactly when a round was finished because of the volume penetrating to you and because of the thin new building walls you could also say with 95% accuracy who had won. Frustrated you rub your temples and crawl completely under your blanket. The two young men had been living next to you for 2 years. In the beginning they had also been quite nice, but that had changed quite a bit over time. They hadn't necessarily become more unfriendly, because you could still see them hauling the old lady's shopping around on floor 6, but they had become much more ruthless towards your sleep rhythm. The fact that you involuntarily witnessed their extended gaming nights made your opinion of them a little worse. You were slowly getting the impression that the two of them were really doing nothing but spending all their time gaming. Very rarely did you see them outside their apartment. The only evidence that they were still alive was the daily ringing delivery service and the nightly noise nuisance. With a unnerved groan you flip your blanket back and crawl out of your bed again to give yet another warning to your neighbours. It rarely helped and usually only for a short time, but it was definitely better than nothing. So perhaps you were granted a few hours of sleep. Besides, hope dies last, as you know. You simply leave your door open as you shuffle to the neighbouring door and let out your accumulated frustration at the innocent apartment door. It took a moment until someone finally opens the door for you, before you turned it into firewood. A young man with messy grey hair appears in the door frame. Taehyung. >>What gives us the honour at such a late hour? << he asks and gives you one of his boxy smiles, which he almost always seemed to wear on his lips. >>Your less well-off and atrophied brain cells, your apparent deafness and the obvious inability to read the clock give you the honor. Hard to believe, but there are actually people who can't sleep late tomorrow morning, but have to get out relatively early. It really can't be that hard to be a little considerate, can it? << you snap at him and pull up an eyebrow accusingly. Your counterpart looks at you a little surprised. >>What is it? You can be loud otherwise? Have you suddenly lost your voice? << you mock while you cross your arms in front of your chest.

>>Want me to repeat it very slowly? Or do you prefer to have it spelled right away? Would it be more understandable then? << you poke a little farther when you hear a snort from behind the young Korean. Not a second later his roommate appears behind him. Jungkook was the younger of the two, that's how much you had picked up at some point. >>Where is the problem again? << he asks and reaps another incredulous snort from you as he peers over Taehyung's shoulder. Just as you're about to answer, the gray-haired one seems to have found his voice again. >>We are too loud for her. << he said slightly dramatically, which only made you feel more angry. >>Once again. << Jungkook noticed with a crooked grin and shrugged his shoulders. Outraged you gasp for air. >>The 'once again' should definitely make you think by now. Also this should be the last time I have to come over to complain. Next time I'll initiate further steps. I am so sick of it. Contrary to yours, my synapses don't wither through looking at the constantly flickering screens. Apart from that, I can give you another helpful advice: << you say and glare angrily at the two young men. >>Have you ever heard of hearing aids? They are small inconspicuous things that you put in your ear and they are not so expensive. Then you don't have to yell at each other like that to communicate with each other. Maybe you should seriously consider a purchase. << With that you turn around, go back to your apartment and slam the door behind you into the lock. Now that you've been able to vent your anger, it's slowly being overshadowed again by the re-emerging fatigue. You yawn heartily and shuffle back to your bed. When you get there, you fall face first back into the soft pillows. Fortunately, it doesn't take long until you finally fall asleep without a new disturbance.

The next days passed surprisingly without further significant disturbances. Not that you would complain about this development in any way. One evening you had to knock against the wall to put an end to the reappearing volume, but this action was crowned with success, because it had led to the desired silence without resistance.From time to time you've even seen your annoying neighbours outside their gamer's den. This gave rise to some hope that they would do something about the degeneration of their brain cells or at least try to prevent further damage.You, on the other hand, spent the rest of your time learning. The finals were just a few days away and you weren't ready to beat them up just because of the constant noise pollution. Meanwhile there were only two days left until the finals, after that you had finished this semester successfully. Inside you hadn't completely given up hope that the two young men were also distracted by their finals and therefore refrained from screaming at night.

A glance at the clock tells you that it was already 1am. Sighing, you get up from your place at your desk, which had served you as a sleeping place during the last nights, sometimes even involuntarily, and you stagger, rubbing your throbbing temples, towards your bed. Once there, you drop on the mattress with a tired groan and want to make yourself comfortable between your pillows when all your hopes for another quiet night have been dashed. Again. Sometimes you regret moving into this apartment. Since the entire residential complex was a new building, apparently not much value had been placed on thick walls. Unfortunately, this apartment was one of the few affordable ones for your budget. So you had no choice but to complain for the second time this week.

You're exhaling a completely unnerved sound, you get back on your feet and almost storm out of your apartment. Because of your persistent headache, you had even less patience for the two of them. You press the little bell button extremely vigorously while leaving out any accumulated frustration at the innocent door. >>Is someone finally going to open the door? I know you're there. After all, you can’t be overheard. << you grumble at the door. The next blow, which had actually been very unerringly aimed at the door, hit Jungkook's chest with full force when he suddenly opens the door. >>Ouch...<< he sulks at you and rubs the sore spot. >>Stop complaining. That's nothing compared to your noise nuisance. << you hiss and push yourself effortlessly past him, taking advantage of the fact that you took him completely by surprise. He needed a moment to realize that you had just pushed yourself into the apartment. >>Hey, what is this now? You can't just walk in here as you like. That's trespassing. << His statement only elicits an angry snort. >>You just witnessed how I can. Also what you do is noise nuissance, which is by the way not better at all. What do you want to do now? Pull me out by my hair again? << you ask provocatively as you make your way to the living room. Fortunately, this apartment was built just like yours, so you have no problems finding it.

>>Now you've definitely gone too far. A little rest is really not too much to ask for, is it? Just a little bit of silence... << In the living room you finally find a Taehyung who is also surprised. He is sitting cross-legged on the sofa and looks at you with big eyes while the gamepad seems frozen in his hands. Jungkook had stopped in the door frame, probably to block your escape route. However, this one was just of the slightest interest to you. You're looking for something else. Both men were once again dressed in loose sweaters and sweatpants. That's what happened when you had the number of the delivery service on speed dial. Other sports than gaming were probably not considered by either of the two young Koreans. It was a shame, actually, if you thought about it more carefully, because they have pretty faces.

You need a second to find what you were looking for. When you found it, a gloating smile creeps on your lips. You reach behind the TV and pull out all the plugs from the power strip behind it. With the connector strip in your hand, you turn around to the two men again. >>I will take my finals in two days. No, it’s already tomorrow. For days I have been doing nothing besides learning. From morning to evening. As soon as I come home from university, I sit down at my desk and learn. All I need to get some rest in between is my fucking sleep, which I can't get because you two totally ruthless idiots just won't let me. << Angry you look at your neighbors. Taehyung had meanwhile placed the gamepad next to him and was now sitting on the sofa in front of you with slightly spread legs. Jungkook had leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed in front of his chest and looked at you blank. Their much too relaxed reactions only made you more furious, which is why you almost screamed the next words. >>Silence! That’s all I demand. I’m not askng for more. Just a little bit of silence! What is so difficult to understand about it? << The question hangs in the room for a moment. You look back and forth between the two men while your fingers tightly enclose the connector strip.

Before you talk any further, you take a deep breath to stop yelling. >>That's why I'm taking this with me now. So that I get at least a little of the peace and quiet that you ruthless Neanderthals deny me. << frustration follows rage afterwards, which is why you don't even notice how your voice moderates again and now sounds less angry, but completely frustrated and overworked. >>You can pick them up after I’m done with my finals. I just have an immense headache and wish for nothing more than a little sleep before I go on learning. If you would do anything else sometime except sit on the sofa all day and play video games, you might understand. Or maybe you are looking for another hobby or directly a girlfriend. << You can see Jungkook raising an eyebrow slightly mockingly and Taehyung's corners of his mouth curling slightly upwards as you continue speaking. >>A little of dick wetting can do wonders against accumulated frustration. In those two years, the only women I've ever seen here were your mothers. And that's a pretty devastating balance. << Now Taehyung has raised both eyebrows and looks at you amused. But you don't let yourself be distracted anymore and just keep talking. >>But a little advice. Women can only be found out there. They don't come flown into virgin caves on their own to guys who don't even know how to operate a stove, let alone hide under tent sized clothes instead of doing something for themselves. << Innocently you shrug your shoulders. The two men don't look at you anymore, but look at each other, pregnant with meaning, which you can't interpret. >>Good night to you then. << you say briefly tied up and want to leave the living room. But Jungkook didn't move an inch.

"Get out of my way, kid." You grumble, pushing against his chest with your hand, and his torso feels unexpectedly built under your fingertips. He only smirks in response, still not budging. "You really think you can trespass on our property, steal our stuff, and we'd actually let you leave with it?" He chuckles. You feel a presence behind you, and suddenly the strip in your grasp is snatched away, Taehyung proudly waving it around before putting it back in it's rightful place.

"I think all that studying must've gotten to her head, Kookie. She's not thinking properly." Taehyung calls back as he plugs everything back in. "I think you're right. You said you had a headache too, Y/N? Well, as a medical student I know one thing that could get rid of that for you." Jungkook smiles, lifting his hand to cup your cheek, but you smack it away. "Medical student my ass. You never step foot out of this flat, I highly doubt you even attend classes." You scoff, crossing your arms. "He's right though. He's a med student and I'm an educational student. He's gonna be a doctor and I'll be a teacher." Taehyung chimes in, drawing your attention to him.

You laugh loudly, both of them cocking their eyebrows at you. "There is no way that your lack of braincells could handle all of that. Being a doctor and a teacher require hours of studying, which you two clearly don't do since all I hear through these thin walls is you screaming over your stupid games." You smile, still calming down from your laughing fit. "You know, it's really rude to barge in and ridicule us on our passions." Taehyung pouts. "And do you really think we don't get girls?" Jungkook asks, and you nod in response. "I never see any girls come in or out of that door." You reason, and they both laugh. "We don't bring them over here, we go to their place, because we know how thin these walls are thanks to your late night self love sessions." Your smile drops, Taehyung's words sending a chill down your spine. They've heard you? They know what you do on lonely, drunk nights?

"I have to say, your sounds are so sweet, we've been dying to hear them ourselves, calling out our names instead of 'Matt Bomer! Oh my god, Matt'!" He mimics your sounds of pleasure, making your cheeks heat up. "Also, he's gay, you know that, right sweetheart?" Jungkook asks. "That's not the point! He's still a lot hotter than you two ever could be even if you did work out and all that kind of stuff!" You cry, completely flustered. "Whatever you say, darling. The point I'm making is that we're not the losers you think we are and we'd appreciate it if you could keep all of your snide comments and rude remarks to yourself from now on, or we're gonna have to teach you a lesson." Taehyung smirks, throwing his arm around Jungkook's shoulders.

"Teach me a lesson? Really? Don't use that teacher bullshit on me. You guys are a fucking joke. Please move so I can go home and maybe get a few hours of rest?" You ask, stepping up to them, but they stay motionless. "That's actually gonna be a no go, sweetheart." Jungkook says, stepping forward and taking your chin between his fingers, tilting it up so you look him in the eyes. You don't know why, but it's like his presence, the close proximity to him, his actions, everything about this moment has your confidence from before draining out of your body. "I think you need to be a little nicer to us. You said a lot of things about us that are wrong. Why don't we prove her wrong, Tae?" Jungkook asks, looking back at the older male.

The two look at you, their eyes dark, a tint of something almost animalistic, as if they were hungry lions and you were just a small antelope with no chance of surviving. "I think that's a great idea." Taehyung nods in agreement. "What should we prove wrong first? She said we're deaf, we're virgins, we're stupid, out of shape, the list goes on." He rambles. "Maybe we should prove how in shape we are first. What do you say, baby?" Jungkook suggests, grabbing your hand. He guides it under his shirt, your fingers gliding over his hot skin, and to your surprise, it's fairly tough, your hand gliding over the small ridges of his abs, a small gasp escaping his lips as he closes his eyes at the sensation. You bite your lip, embarrassed at how weak you're getting. You always figured they were out of shape, maybe even a bit chunky since all they wore were baggy clothes, but now that you're feeling it for yourself, you desperately wish to see it.

You don't even realize that he's pulled his hand away, your hand still running over his skin, until both of his hands are rested on your hips. He steps a bit closer, walking you backwards a bit until your back hits something warm, another set of arms wrapping around you. Taehyung pulls you close to him, leaning forward, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder. You're so confused by this turn of events that you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. "What is it, Y/N?" Taehyung whispers, his lips ghosting over your skin. "Have you suddenly lost your voice?" He smirks before he kisses your neck. You haven't felt this in a long time, and even though it's your annoying neighbor doing it, you can't help but enjoy it, your eyes closing as your head tilts to the side, giving him more access.

As you relish in the feeling of Taehyung's lips, your breath is taken away by Jungkook's lips crashing onto yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You close your eyes, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, giving into them completely. Taehyung's hands move up your torso, cupping your breasts, your back arching involentarily, making your ass press against him. He growls into your skin, teeth grazing against you, which makes you moan into Jungkook's mouth. You haven't been touched like this in so long, it's embarrassing how wet you are already. Taehyung fondles your breasts as Jungkook takes your bottom lip between his teeth, your mouth opening for him.

Jungkook groans as your fingers tangle is his hair, Taehyung grinding against you, and you feel him growing hard against you, Jungkook's own hard on pressing against your thigh. Is this really happening? All you wanted was some decent sleep, yet here you are, sandwiched between your noisy neighbors, letting them ravish you. You definitely weren't expecting this, but you aren't complaining. In fact, you pout when Jungkook pulls away from you, smirking. "I think she's enjoying it, Tae." He says breathily, the older male humming against your neck. "Her cheeks are so pink, it's adorable." He smiles, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from it. "I bet she's wet too. Isn't that right, baby? Mind if I feel?" He tilts his head, and you only whimper in response. "I need a straightforward answer, Y/N. Use your words. Yes or no." He says. "Y-Yes. P-Please." You stutter, much to his amusement. "Good girl."

Jungkook's hand slides lower on your body, cupping your heat through your pajama shorts. As you moan softly, Taehyung decides to try and steal your attention, sucking on your neck harshly, and you're sure it's gonna leave a mark. You don't know who to focus on, but Jungkook makes the decision for you, his hand dipping under your waistband, the feeling of his bare fingers tracing over your slit has you bucking your hips. "Holy crap, how are you this wet already? All we've done is kiss you." He chuckles, truly astonished. "Tae, you gotta feel this."

You whimper as Jungkook's hand leaves you, but it's quickly replaced by Taehyung's, who hums against your neck. "Fuck, such a good girl, so wet for us. What is it, have you actually thought about this happening? Have we ever been on your mind when you played with yourself? I'm not gonna lie, we've thought about you. I know I walked in on Kookie moaning your name while he stroked himself. I think it was one of those nights you were screaming. Isn't that right, Jungkook?" Taehyung's deep voice rings through your ears, his finger tracing large, slow circles around your sensitive bud. You look at Jungkook through hooded lids expectantly. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I couldn't help myself. Your moans just sounded too good, I had to picture that it was me helping you, me making you scream." Jungkook admits, his confession driving you crazy. How many times has he thought of you while rubbing one out? How many times had Taehyung? If you could, would you have come over sooner, making your dirtiest secret a reality?

You've thought about it sure, once or twice, regretfully. You couldn't help it. But to know that they've thought about it to, getting off to the thought of you, it drives you absolutely insane. You push back against Taehyung, grinding on him as your hand traces down, palming Jungkook through his baggy sweatpants, the sweetest, softest sound falling from their lips. "Dirty girl. You wanna touch us? You feel the problem you caused us? I think it's your responsibility to take care of them." Taehyung growls, taking his hand out of your panties and holding it in front of your face. "Open up, sweetheart." He whispers, and you do as he says, opening your mouth for him. He pops his finger into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the digit and your tongue swirling around it, tasting yourself. He moans, Jungkook leaning forward to place soft kisses in your shoulder. "Why don't you put that slutty little mouth of yours to good use, darling? I think it'd do a lot better wrapped around our cocks than talking shit about us." Taehyung chuckles.

The three of you round the couch, the boys sitting down on the couch, looking up at you expectantly as you standing before them. "Well, what are you waiting for, baby? Be a good girl for us and get on your knees." Jungkook smirks cockily at you, sending your heart aflutter. You do as he says, dropping to your knees and kneeling on the ground in front of them. As your eyes scan over the tents in their sweatpants you lick your lips, eager to get to work. You move closer, your hands reaching out to palm both of them through the fabric, a simultaneous moan sending another wave of need through you. They shift, pulling their pants down enough for their cocks to spring out, and your breath is taken away. Taehyung's is longer and thicker, but Jungkook's is pretty with a nice little curve to it. You desperately want them in you, but you know you have to give them something first.

You spit into your hand, their eyes widening at the lewd action, before you bring your hand to Taehyung's length, a deep sigh spilling from his soft lips as you wrap your hand around him, pumping him slowly as you grab hold of Jungkook's. As you get closer to him, his breath starts quickening, the excitement of finally being able to see your pretty lips around him making him slightly nervous. Your tongue pokes out, flicking over his tip as you make eye contact with him, a shiver running through his body. Inch by inch you take him into your mouth, bobbing on him while continuing to pump Taehyung, whose long fingers are tangling in your hair, guiding you on Jungkook's cock. When he hits the back of your throat you gag, a loud moan ringing out from him as your throat contracts around him. You suck it up, tears filling your eyes as you continue to take him in as much as you can, wanting to hear as many of his moans as you can. "Y/N, fuck. Tae, I'm not gonna last long." Jungkook whimpers, his hips moving instinctively as he slowly thrusts into your mouth.

"It's okay, Kookie. Are you getting close? You wanna cum?" Taehyung cooes, brushing Jungkook's hair out of his face. "Y-Yes. Oh fuck. Baby, keep going like that, please." Jungkook begs you, and you happily comply, even picking up the pace. You moan around him, his thighs shaking under your grasp. At this point you've kind of forgotten about pumping Taehyung, knowing you'll make it up to him, but you're too focused on how fucked out Jungkook looks already. His head leaning against the back of the couch, lips parted, eyes shut tight, face flushed, and knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the couch.

A string of incomprehensible sounds tumbles from his mouth along with loud whines and moans. "Y/N, baby, oh god." He whimpers, his legs trembling. You swirl your tongue around him, your drool spilling from your mouth, lewd slurping sounds echoing off the walls, but you don't care. The only thing you care about in this moment is driving him over the edge, and with one more flick of your tongue, that's exactly what you do, his salty cum filling your mouth, and you swallow every drop.

"What a good girl. I think she deserves a reward, don't you think, Kookie?" Taehyung asks, brushing your hair out of your face. Jungkook nods, his face still flushed. "Why don't you get on the floor, Jungkook, and lay down. Sweetheart, your knees might hurt a bit, but I promise we'll make it up to you." Taehyung orders, Jungkook laying down on the plush carpet. "Now Y/N, stand up for a moment." He says, standing up. You rise to meet him, anxious to find out what he's going to command next. The way he's taking control over the situation, even telling Jungkook what to do, has you dripping. His fingers grip the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, next off is your bra, his eyes lingering over your bare breasts before kneeling before you, his skin fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts and panties. He kisses your stomach as he slides the material down your legs, letting them pool onto the floor as he admires you.

You start to feel nervous under their gaze, rocking on your heels anxiously. "Fuck, you're more beautiful than I dreamed. I can't wait until we make you ours. But first-" Taehyung says, standing up. His large hand reaches around your body, gripping the supple flesh of your ass. His thumb runs over your soft lips, his tongue running over his own. "I wanna feel what Jungkook felt. I wanna know how good your slutty mouth is for myself. Now, kneel above Jungkook's face and open your mouth for Daddy. Understand?" He whispers, the nickname making you shudder. You nod, but that doesn't seem to be enough for him. "Say it, sweetheart. Use your words." He cooes, a soft whimper coming from Jungkook on the floor. "Yes, Daddy." You nod, a low groan coming from his throat. "Good girl. Now get on your knees for us."

You comply, standing over Jungkook and sinking to your knees, his hands rubbing your thighs soothingly. Taehyung stands in front of you, and you realize why he chose to do this. With Jungkook on the floor beneath you and Taehyung standing in front of you, if you sit up straight your face is level with Taehyung's cock. You gasp as you feel cool air blown onto your core, gripping onto Taehyung's thighs for support as your legs shake. "So sensitive. Tell us, baby, when's the last time someone else touched you." Jungkook says, his finger tracing over your slit as he watches it glisten with your slick. "Uh, I think, I think it was my l-last boyfriend, Hoseok." You stutter, trying really hard to remember. "And how long ago was that?" "Maybe four months ago?" You recall the last time you slept with him, the night you broke up. "That's too long, baby. You should've come to us sooner. We would've gladly helped you out. I promise we're gonna treat you right. Plus, we're gonna make sure your perception of us changes." Jungkook says.

With that last thought, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth as he flattens his tongue onto you, licking up your slit. "Oh fuck." You whine, gripping onto Taehyung's sweatpants. "Come on, sweetheart, open up for me." He cooes, holding his throbbing cock in his hand. As Jungkook's tongue dips past your folds, flicking against your clit, your thighs tremble in his grasp as your mouth hangs open, Taehyung taking the opportunity to slide into your mouth, your moan sending a vibration through him. "Jesus fuck, sweetheart. No wonder Kookie came so fast." He groans. "Just keep your mouth open for me. You don't need to do anything. Just let me fuck your mouth while Jungkook tongue fucks you." You hum in approval around him as his hips move slowly, thrusting himself deeper into your mouth.

Jungkook's mouth works on you, alternating between sucking on your clit and burying his tongue into your hole, the wet muscle wiggling around and making you moan around Taehyung's cock. Taehyung holds your hair, keeping you in place as he fucks himself into your mouth, groaning deeply each time he goes too far, making you gag around him. Your hips move against Jungkook, his nose nudging against your bud each time you grind against him, sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You're embarrassed at how close you are to cumming, but you can't really focus on caring, only focusing on taking Taehyung and feeling Jungkook. One of your hands rested on Taehyung's thigh as your other tangled in Jungkook's hair, tugging gently each time he did something right, making him moan and send vibrations straight through you.

"Fuck sweetheart, you swallow my cock so well. It feels so good." Taehyung moans, and you look up at him, making eye contact. "How can you look so innocent with a cock in your mouth? You're so perfect, sweetheart, I can't wait to fill up that pretty pussy of yours and- fuck- and fi-ll it up all nice with- our- shit-" Taehyung's sentence breaks up, his voice cracking as his thrusts get sloppy, doubling over as he spills into your mouth. He tastes a bit sweet thank Jungkook, but it seems like there's a bit more for some reason. Once he pulls out you swallow, and once your mouth is empty you moan loudly as Jungkook fervently laps at your clit.

Taehyung kneels down to your level, and you instantly wrap your arms around him as you grind against Jungkook. He holds onto you, kissing your face and your neck as you moan for them. "You sound heavenly, sweetheart. Is Kookie doing a good job? Are you gonna cum all over his tongue soon?" He cooes, his hands roaming over your body. You nod, feeling the end rapidly approaching. "J-Jun-ko-mmm-" You whine, your body trembling. Taehyung bites down on your neck as Jungkook sucks on your clit harshly, sending you over the edge.

Jungkook gathers every little bit on his tongue, reveling in your sweet taste before patting your thigh. Taehyung hears it, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up to stand. Jungkook gets up, standing behind you. He grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him and before you know it, his lips coming crashing down onto yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth, and you can taste your essence. You've never been kissed with such hunger and need before, you moan into his mouth as you enjoy the feeling of really being needed and wanted.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go to my room and wait for us on the bed? It's the room on the left. I want you to lay down on your back with your legs spread nice and pretty, with your arms above your head. Got it?" Taehyung whispers in your ear. Jungkook pulls away from you, leaving you breathless. You nod, excitedly bounding to the room you were instructed. Taehyung and Jungkook watch as your hips sway, groaning simultaneously at how much they wanted you.

You climb onto the bed, laying how Taehyung instructed, wondering what they have in store for you. You wait anxiously, the thought of what could happen making you aroused again. They finally appear in the doorway, Jungkook's hands behind his back. "Look at that, Jungkook. She's so obedient for us already. All spread out for us." They stalk towards the bed, Taehyung by your lower half and Jungkook up by your head. Taehyung moves so he's sitting between your legs, your knees resting on his thighs. His hands run along your thighs, the gentle touch making you squirm. "What is it, sweetheart? Already horny again? After Jungkook just made you cum? Such a greedy little slut you are. Don't worry, you'll get what you need. Jungkook, go ahead." Taehyung hums, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion. You feel something wrap around your wrists, binding them together tightly. You try to pull them apart, but you can't, your struggle useless.

"So pretty." Taehyung cooes, his finger tracing over your slit, sending a shiver through you. "If we're gonna make you ours, we have to prepare you." He smirks, slipping a finger inside of you. You clench around him, having something inside of you feeling amazing. He quickly adds a second finger, pumping in and out. As his fingers work on you, Jungkook's hand runs from your shoulder to your breast, rubbing it gently. "Y/N, how many fingers have you taken before?" Taehyung asks. "Ah, um, two." You reply. "Well, how about we try three then?" He smirks, adding another finger inside of you. You gasp, the stretch heavenly. He curls them inside of you, his long fingers reaching deep inside of you, the heel of his palm grinding against your previously ignored clit.

"You know, you complained about how we plays games all the time, but do you realize how much gaming helps in situations like this?" Jungkook chimes in. "You see, with all the controls, our fingers have to move fast." At those words, Taehyung's fingers move faster inside of you. "Also, each hand is moving simultaneously, so it's easy to do more than one thing at a time." Taehyung's other hand moves closer, his thumb pressing down onto your clit, your body jolting at the direct contact.

The stretch of his fingers combined with his thumb working on you drives you over the edge faster than you care to admit, your walls squeezing his fingers, but he doesn't stop after helping you ride out your high. You whine loudly at the overstimulation, his hands possibly moving even faster. You gasp and shake your head, your toes curling and your legs spasming uncontrollably. "No no no no-mmmm-no no." You whimper, a tear rolling down your cheek. "No? You don't want this? I think you do, sweetheart. Just one more, come on. Cum all over Daddy's fingers just one more time." Taehyung growls. "D-Da-ddy! Fuck fuck fuuu-" You cry out, desperately wishing to grip onto something. Jungkook reaches down, pushing down just above your pelvis, and your vision goes white, screaming as you're taken over by pleasure.

This time Taehyung stops, a warm wetness covering your lower half. "No fucking way. It actually worked." Jungkook says breathily. You catch your breath, finally able to look down at what happened. You see Taehyung sitting there, breathing heavily with a devious smirk on his face, his sweater and pants soaked. "You ever squirt before, sweetheart?" He smiles. You shake your head, closing your eyes and laying your head back. "Well, then I guess that makes us special." Taehyung teases.

Both of them get up, and you watch as they strip from their clothes. You lick your lips, surprised by how built they both are. You felt Jungkook's body, but now seeing both of them standing before you, you wonder how they got like that. "We do leave our house, you know. We have gym memberships." Jungkook smirks, noticing your stare. You think about that for a moment, how sexy they'd look, all sweaty. "Baby, you think you can stand up for a minute?" Taehyung asks. You try, your legs wobbling, and Jungkook catches you. "I don't think so." He chuckles. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to hold her up." Taehyung smirks.

After some awkward shuffling, giggles, and slips, you're all situated so Taehyung is laying on the bed, holding onto your legs, and Jungkook stands in front of you, also holding onto you, keeping you hovered over Taehyung's standing cock. "Tae, I've got a hold of her. You're gonna have to help me, ugh-" "Don't worry, Kookie. No homo, right?" Taehyung chuckles. You wonder what they're talking about, but you realize when Jungkook gasps, and realize Taehyung is guiding Jungkook's length to line up with your entrance. He pushes into you, both of you moaning together as relief floods over you.

"How is it, Kookie?" Taehyung asks. "So- so so so fucking good." Jungkook moans, his head falling to rest against your shoulder. "Perfect. Alright, Y/N, this may hurt a little bit, but we'll go slow so you can get used to it. You ready?" Taehyung's hand rubs over your back soothingly. "P-Please. Just do it. I want it." You squeak, much to his surprise. "You want it that bad, huh? You want both of us to fill you up? How bad do you want it, baby. Tell Daddy how much you want it." As Taehyung talks, Jungkook stays still, relishing in the warm feeling of you pussy pulsing around him. Taehyung grabs his cock, nudging where you and Jungkook are connected. "So bad, Daddy. Please. I want it so bad." You beg.

Your arms fly around Jungkook's neck, wrists still tied together, as Taehyung pushes into you. He was right, it hurts a bit, stretching you out more than you've ever been before. You cry out, Jungkook shushing you. "Sh, hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me." He cooes. You look at him with tear filled eyes, breaking his heart. "It's okay, princess. I promise it'll get better. You're so good for us. We'll take care of you." Jungkook whispers soothingly to you, kissing your tears away. Once Taehyung is all the way in, all three of you sit there, not moving, them allowing you to get used to it. Taehyung rubs your back as Jungkook peppers your face with tender kisses.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Taehyung asks. You nod, still holding on to Jungkook tightly. "Jungkook." You whisper. "Yes, baby, what is it?" He asks, nudging your nose with his. "Please take this off. I don't want this on anymore. Please." You beg, moving your arms to show him what you mean and grabbing Taehyung's attention. "Kookie, untie her." He says, and Jungkook nods, reaching behind him and untying it with one hand expertly. As soon as you're freed you grab onto Jungkook, holding him tightly with one hand tangled in his hair. "You know, we probably should've done that before we got into this position." Jungkook chuckles. "Dude, we never think ahead." Taehyung responds and you giggle softly, shaking your head.

"Alright, I think I'm good." You nod, biting your lip. "You sure?" Jungkook asks, and you nod again. "Alright. I'm moving then." Jungkook says. The feeling of him sliding out of you, while you're still full of Taehyung, is completely indescribable. You moan softly and you feel him rub against your walls, the sweetest moan ringing through your ears from him. As he pushes back in, Taehyung pulls out, starting an unspoken synchronization that has you moaning uncontrollably, gripping onto Jungkook as right as you can as they bounce you on their cocks.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You're squeezing around us so well. You like it when we fuck you like this? Stretching out your pretty little pussy?" Taehyung growls from behind you. "Yes! Yes I fucking love it!" You cry, your breath quickening. "That's our little cock slut. Such a good girl for us. Now, do you take back everything you said about us?" He asks. "Fuck, yes! I'm sorry!" You shout, burying your face in Jungkook's neck. "Good girl. Such a good girl for Daddy and Kookie." Taehyung hums.

You start to place hot, open mouthed kissed on Jungkook's neck, nipping at it softly, and it's like that flipped a switch for him. "Fuck it, Tae, hold her. I need her to cum right now." Jungkook grunts. Taehyung takes hold of your leg as Jungkook frees one of his arms, bringing it lower. "Wha-ah!" You moan, his fingertips pressing harshly into your clit. "Oh man, holy shit!" Jungkook gasps, the pressure from his fingers making you clench around them. "Shit, Kook, keep doing that." Taehyung growls, both of them still thrusting in and out of you. "You look so good like this, baby. You're so lost in pleasure, I bet you won't even remember your name after this, huh? But you'll remember ours. Say our names, baby girl. Tell everyone in the building whose fucking you so well, stretching your pussy out, whose gonna make you cum so hard we'll have to carry you home tomorrow morning. Say it. Say our names." Jungkook says, leaving you in absolute shock. How the hell did he switch so fast?

"D-Daddy! Jungkook!" You scream out, a pleased smirk on Jungkook's face. "That's right, baby. Now, you wanna cum for us? Be a good girl and give us one more. Squeeze our cocks. Make us fill you up and make you a complete mess. Come on." He cooes, rubbing your clit even faster. "Oh, oh fuck oh fuck fuck fu-" Your cries are interrupted by your own moan, your end hit you like a freight train. "Shit shit shi-it!" Jungkook whimpers, Taehyung only growling as you squeeze around them, setting off their own orgasms. They spill into you, your pussy clenching and milking them for all their worth. They ride out the highs, fucking their cum into you before finally pulling out, laying you down and resting beside you.

"Holy shit." Taehyung breathes, all of you panting. All you can do is smile and nod, completely satisfied. You lay there, wondering if all of that really happened, or if you were actually just sleeping in your apartment. However, the warmth radiating off of the two sweaty men next to you proves it's real, especially as Jungkook turns, facing you and rubbing your thighs soothingly while Taehyung places kisses on your cheek. "Wait." Jungkook gasps, sitting up and looking at you both in shock. "We actually, like, you know. Are you in the pill or anything?" He asks. You didn't even think of that. "Uh, no, I'm not. I'm sorry. I should've thought of that. I'm so sorry." You apologize, feeling stupid. "Sh, no no no, baby, it's not your fault. We should've thought about it to. We're sorry." Jungkook cooes, holding you close to him. "I'm not." Taehyung chimes in, and you both turn to look at him in horror. "Tae, what if she gets pregnant? What's going to happen with all of us?" Jungkook asks. "Then we get a bigger apartment. Honestly, I kinda hope she gets pregnant." Taehyung smiles. "Not gonna lie, impregnation is one of my biggest kinks. Just imagine it, Kookie, her walking around with our babies inside of her. She'd be so beautiful. I mean, just look at her now. All filled with our cum. Look, there's so much it's even dripping out." He's right. You can feel it dripping, you've just ignored it.

Jungkook stays silent, only licking his lips. "And if she does get pregnant, then that just means she'll be ours for sure. What do you say, Y/N? Do you want to be ours?" Taehyung asks, rubbing your cheek. You nod, the idea of being in a relationship with them making you all kinds of excited. "That's great!" He smiles. "Y/N." Jungkook says, catching your attention. "Are you really okay with this?" He asks, and you nod. "I love you so much, Y/N. We love you so much and we're gonna take extra special care of you and appreciate you and all that kinda stuff." Jungkook smiles, placing quick pecks all over your face and neck, making you giggle. "You'll stay with us tonight, right?" Taehyung asks, snuggling up behind you. "Well, I don't think I can really walk home." You giggle. "Well then, I'd say we did a damn good job." He smirks, holding you close. Laying there, cuddled by your noisy neighbors, now lovers, you wonder how so much could've changed in just a few hours. You're not complaining though. Before you drift off to sleep, you imagine how interesting your life will be from now on.

[peaceisadirtyword]

Secrets (Modern! Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hi! I should have posted this on Tuesday, but I didn't like what I had written, so I’ve been rewriting it since then (like three times) and, well... The result is this. I’m sorry if it’s too boring or anything, I just wanted this one to be an introduction to the story, idk... I’m really excited with this one, even if it’s not my best work, but I really hope you like it because I'd love to do this series. It’s my first time doing modern Ivar so please, don’t be too harsh on me lol. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy it! 

English it’s not my first language so please, forgive any mistakes I may have had. Also, I didn’t have time to edit this one, sorry!

Inspiration:  This work was inspired by Griffenholm Confessionals a series written by @akamaiden @ivarswickedqueen @laketaj24 and @ivarsshieldmadien (please, check it out because it’s amazing).

Warnings: Ivar, a dysfunctional family, my bad writing and the fact I named the school Valhalla Academy because my almost non-existent creativity decided to disappear when I was writing this. Also we’re talking about the Lothbroks here so probably there will be violence and smut on the next chapters.

Words: 2476 (I tried to do it shorter so it wouldn’t be that boring, I’m sorry)

Part 2

gif isn’t mine

Great, you just arrived and you already hated Denmark's weather. 

It hadn't stopped raining since the plane landed, and it got worse when you got stuck in a car with your mother and her new husband.

Maybe it was because they were leaving without you. 

Since your mother met John, everything had fell down. They started dating and, at first, you were happy for your mother, even though you didn't like John, but she seemed to be so in love with him you couldn't say anything.

But a year later they got married, and when they came back from their honeymoon at the Bahamas, your mother told you they were moving out to California... Without you. 

You still had to finish school, and John had contacts in Denmark who could get you in one of the most prestigious schools in Europe, the Valhalla Academy. 

Your mother agreed, and a few weeks after, there you where, at the back of a rented car in the danish countryside on your way to hell. 

"Oh, and please say hello to Mrs. Fischer, she works at the cafeteria, if you tell her you know me she will invite you to coffee sometimes" John hadn't stop talking since you left your home, and it was starting to be very annoying.

You rolled your eyes, John had been in that school when he was younger, and he seemed to know everyone... 

"I will say hello to everyone if you shut up" you said, putting on your headphones to stop listening to him.

Your mother glared at you. 

"They will teach you some manners too" John scoffed, but you hummed and closed your eyes, ignoring him.

Valhalla Academy was bigger than you imagined. The entry had a big fence and a lovely path surrounded by trees, and the main building looked like a mansion. You tried not to look very impressed by it, but you couldn't help cursing when you saw how big it was. 

There was an old man and a woman waiting for you there, and John greeted them with that fake, big smile he always had when he spoke to important people. 

You learnt that they were the principal and one of the teachers, who would be your tutor. You didn't even paid attention to their names.

They talked for at least one hour, while you stood near the car, looking around to find some way to run away.

"So Y/N" the principal smiled at you, but you were too angry to smile at someone in that moment "Welcome to Valhalla Academy, we hope you have an amazing experience with us". 

You raised your eyebrows, faking a smile when your mother glared at you again. 

"I'm sure I will" 

"Well, my dear, I'm sure Y/N will be well taken care of in here" John smiled to your mother "We should get going, we have to get up early tomorrow if you want to visit Copenhagen before leaving for California"

They had come with you because, according to your mother, they wanted to say goodbye properly, but you knew it was because they thought you would have ran away if you were alone. And they were right. 

"I will miss you" your mother hugged you, and for a moment you hugged her back. Those past moths your relationship with her had been inexistent, but she was still your mother, and you would miss her anyway "Behave, okay? I will call you twice a week"

"Okay mom" you sighed "Have fun fucking your husband in LA"

"Y/N" she pressed her lips together, a thing she did when se was angry "Please, John is doing this for you, because he loves you and wants you to have the same opportunities he had"

"Of course he does" you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. 

He wasn't your father, even if he wanted to pretend he was. Your real father lived in Paris, and he now had a new family; two daughters, a newborn son and a wife... And he hadn't talked to you for months. 

You could say you had a dysfunctional family.

"I will send some postcards to you" your mother kissed your cheek "I love you, sweetie"

"Bye" you got away from her. If she would miss you so much and loved you, why did she left you in that place while she was moving out with her husband?

John tried to approach and hug you, but you turned around to take your luggage out of the car, avoiding him. 

A few minutes later, you were walking next to your tutor, carrying your things towards your new room. 

The rooms for the students were in another building, which was almost as big as the main one. 

"It's dinner time" your tutor, whose name was Mrs. Lauridsen, said "So that's why there's no students around here now, but you can meet you roommate later" she said, stopping in front of a door and giving you a key "This is your room, you can leave your things and go to the canteen if you're hungry, don't lose your key" she said with a serious expression "And tomorrow you have to be at the hall at eight o'clock, I will be there to show you around and give you your schedule, don't be late"

You nodded, with no intention of going to the canteen. 

She left and you opened the door, praying to all the gods that your roommate was having dinner and not in the room. 

She wasn't. 

The room was big, it had two single beds, a large desk and two chairs and two bedside tables. There was one big shelve on one side of the room with some books on it. 

The curtains were dark, and the window at the other side of the room was big. There was a small balcony with amazing views to the forest and a big closet in one of the corners of the room.

One of the beds was unmade, so you supposed it was your roommate's. You left your things next to the other bed and lied onto it, exhausted. 

You only could hope your roommate was nice, and luckily the other students would be too busy to notice you, or they wouldn't even care.

You didn't know how much time you spent lying down on the bed, but suddenly the door opened and a girl dressed in the school's uniform came in, stopping when she saw you. 

"Oh, you must be... I can't remember your name, actually" she said, offering you a smile.

"Y/N" you said, trying to smile back at her. 

"Yeah, I'm Elise, nice to meet you"

You sat on the bed, looking at her. 

"Same" 

"Are you hungry? Dinner is not over, you still have time to grab something"

"No, thank you, but I'm fine"

"You don't seem to be very happy about being here" she walked over her bed and took her jacket off, leaving her phone on the table "Why is that? All the newbies who get accepted here are so fucking happy it's annoying" she rolled her eyes.

"Well, my mother's husband knows everyone here, so I got in because of that, but I didn't want to come to this brainwashing place, no offense"

"None taken, but this is not so bad when you get used to it, and there's parties almost every day so"

She stood up and took a cigarette, walking to the window and opening it.

You raised your brow.

"I thought we were not allowed to have parties here"

"Well, you can if your last name is Lothbrok" she laughed.

"What?" You blinked, confused.

"The Lothbroks are the most important family here in Denmark, forget the royal family" she shrugged "Ragnar Lothbrok rules the country, and half of Scandinavia actually, and four of his five sons are in this school, they can do whatever they please, no one is gonna punish them" she turned around to look at you "Most of them are nice, I had a crush on the oldest one, Ubbe, but he has a girlfriend now, he's the nicest... Hvitserk is nice, too, but he's a player, don't trust him or accept any drink he gives to you, probably he just wants to fuck, Sigurd it's not that bad, but he can be a bit rude sometimes, he doesn't like people... And Ivar, well" she bit her lip "He's the worst, you'll recognize him because he carries crutches and because he's the hottest guy in the school, but he's... Well, stay away from him if you don't want trouble" 

"So" you stood up and walked over to the window "Those guys can do whatever they want to?"

"Yes" Elise seemed used to it, but it looked a bit unfair for you.

"Even kill a person?"

She laughed.

"I'm almost sure they have already done that" she whispered, shaking her head "But don't worry, probably Ubbe and Hvitserk will welcome you and if you don't mess with them you're safe"

"I had no intention of doing that" you sat down on her bed, near the window "But... I am not the only new person here am I?"

Elise smiled.

"I'm afraid you are, love, I'm sorry but you'll be the center of attention for a few days".

You felt everyone's eyes on you. Elise was right, you were the centre of attention... And you didn't like it.

You only wanted to have lunch in peace, after an awful morning walking around the school and following your grumpy tutor, signing papers and pretending to be excited for being in such a exclusive academy. It was exhausting. 

Elise had told you to sit with her and her friends, but you couldn't find them anywhere, and you really needed to sit down and eat.

Finally you spotted an empty table, and practically ran to it, too relieved... When you bumped into someone. 

Of course, just when you thought you could relax for a bit, you ran over some boy and ruin everything. 

Honestly, the boy almost didn't notice you bumping into him... On the other hand, you almost fell down.

He was tall, with his long, blonde hair tied back into a man bun. His playful eyes were green and he was so handsome you had to blink a few times before realizing you were staring. 

"Sorry" you managed to say, blushing and hoping that he wouldn't be too harsh on you "I wasn't paying attention..."

"Oh, don't worry about that" he was definitely danish, and his voice matched his eyes' playfulness "Are you alright?"

You nodded, still embarrassed.

"Then it's totally fine, I'm Hvitserk, by the way" he smirked at you while looking at you up and down "You must be the new girl..."

You froze. He was Hvitserk Lothbrok, the one Elise warned you about a few hours before. Great, the day was getting better and better.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N" you tried not to sound impressed, looking at him straight in the eyes.

He chuckled, amused by your pretended boldness. 

"Well, Y/N" he shrugged "You should come tonight to the party, so we all can give you a proper welcome... And watch where you're going".

He winked at you before turning around and leaving, and you stood there, confused.

Elise had spent half of the night talking about those boys, Hvitserk and his brothers, about how dangerous they were, and how no one dared to mess with them. But he seemed like a normal guy... A really hot, normal guy. 

You sat down, and your eyes followed Hvitserk as he walked over to another table, not far away from yours. 

Another guy, maybe a bit older than Hvitserk, with brown hair and blue eyes, was sat next to the table, with a blonde girl sitting on his lap, her uniform's skirt was too short, and the way his hand caressed the girl's thigh didn't actually help. 

That must be Ubbe, you thought, remembering how Elise described him and his girlfriend, Margrethe. 

Next to him, there was a blonde guy, with long and wavy hair, he had a guitar leaned against the backrest of his chair, so he could be Sigurd. Elise told you he was a musician, and he played several instruments. He was alone, looking at his phone with a bored expression on his face. 

And then someone else caught your attention. 

He entered the canteen as fast as his crutch allowed him. Everyone looked at him, some of the students with fear on their eyes, his deep blue eyes scanned the room, maybe looking for his brothers.

Soon, everyone stopped looking at him, maybe it was because Ubbe cleared his throat and made the rest of the students resume their eating and their conversations. 

Well, everyone but you. 

You couldn't stop looking at him, as if he was a freaking god. Although he was walking on one crutch, his movements were elegant. He had long hair tied back, like his brothers, but much darker, contrasting with his clear eyes. 

He sat next to Hvitserk, who was nibbling an apple with an amused expression. 

Ivar.

Unlike his brothers, everything about him screamed danger. Maybe it was the way he looked at everyone, as if he was a king looking down at his subjects, or maybe it was how he walked, without a hint of shame, making you forget he couldn't really walk without help.

You were too busy staring at Ivar that you didn't notice Hvitserk looking at you and smirking... Not until he leaned towards his brother and whispered something on his ear. 

Then Ivar's blue eyes found yours, and you looked away quickly, with your cheeks burning. Your food, still untouched, was now cold and you didn't think you could take a bite in that moment. 

You felt the Lothbrok's eyes on you, probably because you were staring at his little brother for like five minutes. 

But, thank the gods, Elise came and saved you. 

"Hello, new girl, how was your first day?" She smiled, sitting down in front of you and leaving her backpack on the table. 

"Too long" you shrugged, still nervous "But Hvitserk Lothbrok invited me to a party tonight, so..."

Elise seemed impressed,  and her wide eyes glanced at the Lothbrok's  table with curiosity. They had stopped looking at you; Ubbe was now making out with his girlfriend, Sigurd still looking at his phone and Hvitserk and Ivar were talking to each other, not paying any attention to any of the students who looked at them warily.

"You already met them" she shrugged "Well, it's a good sign if Hvitserk was nice to you, just listen to me and don't get too involved with them, it's a bit dangerous... Now, tell me about your classes, are you taking Old Norse Mythology?"

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @thisisparadisemylove @sallylebecks

I think I tagged everyone! If not, please tell me. I hope you liked it, and thank you for reading, I wanted to make this a series, maybe posting one chapter per week or something like that... 

Also, I’m sorry if I don’t answer your comments! I read them all and appreciate them, I swear, but I’m a forgetful person and I probably forgot, sorry!

[onisionhurtspeople]

The Spiral of Narcissistic Abuse: Onision Edition

I originally wrote this post in April 2017, but in the year and a half since it’s been published, there have been literally dozens of new victims targeted by Greg (Onision) and his wife Lainey (Laineybot) that I felt were severe enough to warrant inclusion; and so here I am to re-write this post to include this new information. 

1. “Love Bombing”: Display of excessive attention and professions of deep love. “Soul mate.”

Love bombing is the practice of overwhelming a person in a new relationship with signs of adoration and attraction in the form of gifts, compliments, meaningful gestures, discussions revolving around long-term future plans (marriage, children, vacations, etc), and professions of true love. The difference between love bombing and genuine love is that real love is earned over time through intimacy, trust, and consistency, whereas love bombing creates artificial feelings of intimacy that have not yet been earned. 

Greg routinely engages in love-bombing when it comes to either a) trying to lure in new victims, or b) making attempts to reel in previous victims (such as exes), or current victims who are becoming disillusioned with him and beginning to pull away. In 2015, after Greg had convinced his wife Lainey to “explore her bisexuality” by getting a girlfriend, she had settled on an 18-year-old YouTube personality and makeup guru named Billie, and flew her down to their house for a visit. What Greg neglected to tell Lainey was that he had ulterior motives for pushing her to get a girlfriend, and this was because he wanted to convince Lainey and whoever her girlfriend was to enter a three-way, polyamorous triad with him. While Billie was there, in an attempt to draw her in, Greg showered her with gifts, compliments, and an excessive amount of attention and admiration; according to him, he paid her $1800 a month to manage his social media accounts, spent thousands of dollars buying her gifts of makeup and clothing, and his videos were full of glowing compliments towards Billie. 

He tweeted this at Billie after she managed to “fix” a broken camera lens by throwing it on the ground. He screams at his own children just for losing at Mario Kart, could you imagine Onision having this reaction to anybody else treating his expensive equipment that way?

Every time he and Lainey broke up with Billie (usually because she refused to go along with their bizarrely strict and controlling expectations for her behavioral conduct, such as having to ask their permission before smoking weed - and yes, you read that correctly; the problem was not that she was smoking weed because it was illegal (as Greg and Lainey had originally claimed), the problem was that she didn’t ask their permission before doing it), Greg would begin to reel Lainey back in by trying to love bomb her again. This comment was made just two days after he’d cheated on Lainey with Billie, while she was pregnant with their second child:

…and every time they get back together, he begins love bombing Billie again, and ignoring Lainey. He is careful not to do this overtly on Twitter or Instagram like he does with Lainey, but during this time, he expends much more effort into communicating with Billie over Twitter and in videos than he does with Lainey. He is also very clearly more physically affectionate towards Billie in videos where the three of them appear together than he is with his own wife.

(And maybe this is just my unprofessional opinion, but the manner in which he compliments Lainey rings much more hollow and inauthentic to me than the compliments he used to give to Billie. It comes off as very rote and robotic, not genuine or sincere.) 

2.  Over-protection and isolation in the name of love. “We only need each other.”

One of the most common tactics that abusers use to control their victims is by isolating them from friends and family. They do this so that it’s harder for them to escape or see the truth of what’s happening to them. This behavior is manifested in ways such as convincing the victim to stay at home and not have a job, by controlling all of the money that flows through the household (including the victim’s money, if they DO have a job), and by slowly convincing the victim to stop talking to their friends and family members, because the narcissist “doesn’t think they’re good for [them]”. Without a sense of perspective or anybody from whom to gain a third-party point of view, it’s extremely difficult for the victim to objectively analyze the severity of the situation. 

Throughout the history of his relationships, Greg follows this pattern with all of his partners to the tee. He makes repeated attempts to convince Billie to stop flying home to spend time with her friends and family members, who she is extremely close with.

Unbelievably, he attempts to manipulate her by bragging about how he’d already managed to successfully convince Lainey to not visit her own family more than once a year. In a livestream, Lainey once admitted that earlier this month (October 2018) was the first time she’s attended a family funeral in over five years, because Greg wouldn’t give her permission to go to any of the other ones. He also frequently attacks Lainey’s family on social media, as well as diminishing them in Lainey’s eyes by making his disapproval of them quite clear:

This is what he said about Lainey’s sister:

He especially does this to Lainey’s father, who saw through Greg from the very beginning, and desperately tried to stop his 17-year-old daughter from marrying him:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sAjnkASwOo

He also did this with Skye while they were still married, restricting her from seeing anybody but members of his own family, and members of her family that he approved of (which was basically just her younger sister, a 15-year-old girl who Greg admitted to fantasizing about having sex with, including (more than once) accidentally moaning her name while being intimate with Skye). A quote from his website at the time:

January 24th, 2007

Alright, so it has been a few days since Skye and I hung out with another couple… judging from the fact that these people were the only ones we knew that had a lifestyle that wasn’t drugged out, beered out (also known as drugged out), smoked out, ethically lacking, rude etc. and we can’t even enjoy ourselves around them as much as we do each other… I just really don’t see myself and Skye spending time with anyone in the future other than family…

It seems that everyone who isn’t blood related has something extremely wrong with them… it may not be apparent at first, like a used car, but when you get on the road with them, and get to know them, the clanks and pings begin to show, maybe not after the first few miles, but definitely after the second or third ride.

(Source)

This isolation of Skye got so bad that eventually, two of their friends actually tried to convince her to leave Greg:

January 27th, 2007

I was going to post something extremely long about how upset I am with two people I know, within my personal life - who are continuously trying to break my wife and I apart psychically and vocally… but I’m not going to as I believe it can only cause a greater level of drama, which is exactly what they feed on.

In fact, they probably know I’m talking about them right now, and are dialing my number just to tell me/others how wrong I am for my wife, and somehow by saying I love her every hour of the day, feeding her full of yummy food, trying to make her happy emotionally/other ways, putting a roof over her head, that in result of that I’m a bad husband.

(Source)

A former classmate of Greg, who had gone to high school with both he and Skye, also gave an interview with someguy827, in which he detailed his observations of Greg slowly but surely isolating Skye from all of her friends and family members:

You can read the interview here. (Source)

And read the comment that he made on lolcow here. (Source)

3. Power gained by social isolation and artificially inflated self-esteem. “I feel like a better person with I am with them.”

Greg has claimed this about every single one of his exes. I can’t track down photographic examples of him claiming this about all of them never mind, I managed to find examples of him saying this to at least three different women. Here’s an example of when he said it to ex-girlfriend Adrienne:

Keep in mind that they had been dating for a grand total of two weeks when he made the claim to her that she had helped him grow into a better person in the short amount of time they’d been together. 

He made the same claim about a high school girlfriend, Tanya, whom - again - he had known for only a couple of weeks; and they were not even officially dating when he said this to her:

Here is another example of him saying this about his first wife, Skye - again, only weeks into their relationship. The journal entry this screenshot was lifted from is much longer and I was having trouble pasting it into the body of this text in a way that was readable, so here’s a very short, cropped version of what he said. You can find the source for this quote here. (Source)

At the end of his relationship with Adrienne - while they were in the process of breaking up - he called her repeatedly while she was at work, leaving her over a dozen voicemails in less than a day. During this time, Adrienne managed to get in touch with Shiloh, another of Greg’s exes, to compare notes about the similarities in their relationship. When Shiloh listened to the voicemails that Greg had sent to Adrienne, she posted this comment on Facebook:

He had been telling the two women, only hours apart from each other, about how special and meaningful they were to him. The saddest thing about this is that at the same time, he was also calling Skye; and this exchange between himself, Shiloh, and Adrienne occurred only days before he started talking to Lainey. 

4. Creation of a feeling of dependency; induction of fear of the loss of relationship.

One of the ways that Greg likes to induce feelings of psychological dependence on him is through a tactic called “manipulation break-ups”. The phenomenon is explained here by dwayners13:

One of the most common tactics used by manipulative & emotionally abusive individuals is the ‘manipulation breakup’. This is simply when a person repeatedly breaks up with their partner, not because they truly want to end their relationship, but rather to gain power & control over their partner & the relationship in general. There are a variety of issues & events that can cause a manipulation breakup (far too many to list here), but it can range from their partner doing something they don’t like/approve of to the emotionally abusive person being confronted on their abusive/manipulative behavior (by their partner &/or their partner’s family/friends). [...]  Instead of taking the time to discuss or even arguing about the issue in an attempt to resolve it, the person will just break up with them, knowing that their partner doesn’t want to break up. They will then refuse to speak with them about the issue (& the relationship in general), essentially shunning or ignoring their attempts. This can include ignoring phone calls, text messages, VMs etc.., If the couple live together, they will simply refuse to speak with their partner (aka the silent treatment). Their intention is to make it seem like the relationship is over, so that the person will practically beg & plead with their partner & be willing to agree to anything in order to get back together.

(Source)

Greg and Lainey both admitted to him doing this multiple times throughout their relationship; and still, to this day, they admit that he attempts to break up with her every single time they argue, even though they’re married and have been for over seven years. It is extremely abnormal for a 34-year-old father of two who has been married for seven years to threaten to “break up” with his wife every time they get into an argument. These attempts at manipulation on Greg’s part terrify Lainey so much that she readily complies with whatever he wants in order to convince him not to leave her. This pattern could not be more apparent than how this manipulation tactic played out in their relationship with Billie. 

During the time when Greg and Lainey were in a polyamorous relationship with Billie, Lainey expressed repeated discomfort about Greg and Billie spending so much time together while she was excluded by having to spend so much time cooking, cleaning, looking after their their son (she was pregnant with their daughter at the time), and managing their household (which we now know, thanks to Maya, that Greg does not help out with at all, meaning that Lainey spent the vast majority of her day doing these things while Greg and Billie were in another room playing games, making videos, and hanging out). She felt that Billie was only there for Greg, and was not comfortable with them being sexually intimate together, even when it was all three of them together. After a while of this - despite Lainey’s continued discomfort, disapproval, and lack of consent (which is vital for any healthy, functioning polyamorous triad) - Greg told Lainey that there would be more more boundaries, no more jealousy, and that he and Billie were going to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted; and that if Lainey didn’t like it, then he was going to divorce her. 

Naturally, terrified of losing her husband, her family, her home, her source of income, and the only lifestyle that she’d ever known - with a three-year-old in tow, and pregnant with their second child - Lainey felt forced to remain in the three-way relationship that she didn’t even want to begin with. 

A quote from his video, “Onision’s Break Up Story”:

“I told my wife that there would be no more rules in the relationship. That there would be no more boundaries, no more jealousy, and that I would do what I want.”

(Source)

After this quote, Greg goes on to explain that he reassured his wife that he had no intention of leaving her; however, how could Lainey believe this, when just a few months before he had attempted to leave her for Billie, which only didn’t end up happening because Billie told him that she didn’t feel right about it? When he had threatened to leave her so many times before over much smaller and less significant things? He goes on to say this:

“Regardless, it is important to note that Billie did tell me that she thought Lainey might be upset if she and I slept together, but every time she indicated she was worried, I would remind her of the conversation I had with Lainey where I repeatedly told her there would be no more boundaries, we would all have balanced relationships, and that there would be no jealousy.” 

This is an ultimatum. The reason why Lainey went to Billie to ask her not to sleep with Greg is because she already knew that he would shut her down if she tried. Ask yourself this question: for what reason would a woman feel more comfortable asking other women not to sleep with her husband, instead of just going straight to the source and simply asking her husband not to sleep with other women instead? The answer is that it’s because she already knew that he would say no and try to divorce her if she kept bringing it up. It is not unreasonable for Lainey to believe Greg capable of doing this, considering that he has admitted in the past to leaving one woman for another (when he left Skye for Shiloh in 2011):

Greg doesn’t just do this to Lainey, however; he has done this, to my knowledge, with every other woman he’s ever dated. The following is a screenshot of a portion of the letter written by Adrienne - the 26-year-old that Greg dated for three weeks just before he met Lainey - describing how Greg attempted to manipulate her through making her fear the loss of the relationship:

Later on in the same letter:

The entirety of the letter written by Adrienne can be read here. If you’re interested in understanding how Greg’s mind works, I highly recommend reading it - it is extremely insightful, analytical, and well-written. 

5. Restrictive control of resources and activities enforced by induction of guilt, or fear of anger.

It’s no secret that Greg attempts to restrict the activities that his girlfriends are allowed to participate in. This ranges from the aforementioned control over how often they’re allowed to visit their families, to whether or not they’re allowed to have a job (a tactic reported by several of his exes and by Greg himself), to how often they’re allowed to go out with their friends, and even to what they are and are not allowed to eat.

In the following screenshot, a blog post by Shiloh months after they’d broken up, she details how he not only manipulated her into cutting off contact with her friends and family back home, but also convinced her to put her music career on hold so that they could be together all the time:

(You can read the full post here.)

He also talked Skye into quitting her job once he began making enough money off YouTube, with the reasoning that couples should be spending at least 50% of their time together. (I’m having trouble finding the screenshot for this, but it’s out there somewhere - I’ve seen it before.) Here is a similar screenshot, however:

He would also become extremely angry with Adrienne when she wanted to go out with her friends…

...and tried to manipulate her into quitting her job, moving in with him, and depending entirely on him as her source of income, all within three weeks of meeting her. 

6. Gaslighting causes victim to doubt what they see or hear. Inability to trust own thoughts and reasoning.

When Lainey first broke up with Greg and was considering divorce after he cheated on her with Billie, she admitted that she had never even wanted a girlfriend to begin with, and that it had been Greg who was pressuring her into it…

…but later, when Lainey recounted her side of the story in a response video to the one that Billie released, she adamantly maintained that it was she who had wanted to experiment with her bisexuality - evidence that Greg had been gaslighting her into believing that he was not at fault, yet again, and that it was Lainey who had desired to keep bringing back Billie over and over again. The tweet posted in first part of this screenshot was taken only six months after the tweet in the second part:

In addition - despite having told Lainey that it was his decision to sleep with Billie, and despite having literally admitted in a video that he published on YouTube to Billie having repeatedly brought up her discomfort with going behind Lainey’s back in order to be intimate with Greg - he still managed to convince Lainey to doubt her own perceptions enough to the point where she now, to this day - over two years later - still considers Billie to be the homewrecker, and that it was Billie who cheated on her with Greg, not Greg who cheated on her with Billie. That is how manipulative he is. 

During one of the periods in time when Greg and Lainey had broken up with Billie yet again, Lainey began talking to a new girl named Hailey (known online as Luxymoo). At first, Hailey believed that her relationship with Lainey would be exclusive; but after Greg informed her that the relationship would actually be an open polyamorous one, she realized that she was uncomfortable with the arrangement and decided to pull out. Despite the fact that she had every right to choose not to go through with it, Greg then attempted to gaslight her and invalidate her feelings:

After that I started doing research on what it meant to be in a three way relationship, I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t for me. Which killed me, because all I wanted to do was be with Lainey. I wanted to try for them, but at the end of the day, I had to consider my personal feelings on the matter. I knew I couldn’t be what they wanted, because I wanted Lainey.

I told Lainey as soon as I came to that conclusion. I wanted to be honest. I didn’t want to drag it out. Lainey didn’t respond to me.. but Greg did. He said that if he were in my position, he would do whatever it takes to be with Lainey. He said that I didn’t really care about Lainey, that all I was looking for was friendship. He said that he thought my mind was broken. He said he thought I may be sexually dormant. He then would say that he thinks i’m a good person and that i’m the safer alternative. He called me a good distraction.

He wanted me to still come up. But that was a fleeting thought. He said friendship would be hard, and that I was doing everything I could to avoid a relationship with Lainey. Then he pitched the idea of me being with Lainey exclusively, while he’s with Lainey exclusively. Like we wouldn’t be doing sexual things together. I still declined because 1. he had spent so much time invalidating MY feelings on the matter, attacking my personality, pressuring me, etc. and 2. I also knew that that wasn’t what they wanted, and I told him that we would still hit that road block of me wanting exclusiveness. He had said in a previous conversation that it was like him and Lainey were on an island and I had a boat, but I wouldn’t throw them a life line because I wasn’t the right boat.

(The full conversation and screenshot can be seen here.)

He also tried to use this tactic on Maya - a girl who dated Lainey very briefly in late 2017 - in an attempt to preemptively gaslight her and discredit her, should she choose to come forward with her story about what he did to her:

Which he did, in fact, try to do later on, by attempting to accuse Maya of being a “homewrecker” for “wiggling while she was sitting on his lap” (despite not mentioning that he was the one who had placed her there, which she did not consent to, and only went along with because she felt so uncomfortable). The posts detailing her full account can be found here and here. 

7. Increased emotional and psychological dependence of victim on abuser.

Greg has already succeeded in doing this with Lainey and many other girlfriends in the past, and has attempted to do this to several more. When married to Skye, Greg insisted that she not have a job outside of the home because he believes that a couple should spend most of their time together (despite later claiming that spouses who do not have a job outside the home, or at least have children, are useless). After meeting Shiloh, despite the fact that she was a celebrity in Canada at the time they met, he forced her to quit her singing career and move in with him to work for and with him full-time; to this day, over seven years later, her singing career still has not recovered. Upon breaking up with Shiloh, he dated a woman named Adrienne, who he attempted to manipulate into moving in with him within three weeks of the start of their relationship - and she almost did. And likewise, when he began dating Lainey, within a month of meeting her, he had proposed to her, rented a house in the state where she lived so that she could finish high school, and then married and impregnated her within the year, so that he could groom her and keep tabs on her until she was old enough to marry. 

Lainey does not have a job, and is completely financially and psychologically dependent upon Greg for not just survival, but her very sense of identity and self-worth as a person. In fact, she is so dependent on Greg as a source of ego regulation that I wrote an entire post breaking down and analyzing my impression of Lainey’s personality matrix because I was so baffled by the extent of her psychological dependency on him. You can read it here, if you’re curious (and have a lot of spare time). 

8. Punishment through anger, verbal abuse, forced isolation, character assassination, etc.

When angry with ex-girlfriend Shiloh, he pushed her into a door frame, causing her to miscarry (although some people do not believe that she was pregnant, since she and Greg had once faked a pregnancy and stillbirth):

He also forced her to shave her head bald, calling her a “whore”, “his property”, and “a good bitch”:

When Billie lied to him about smoking weed, he attempted to punish her by forcing her to dye her eyebrows green, shave off her hair (the third time he has attempted to, or succeeded in, manipulating a girlfriend to shave her hair off), get an ugly tan, be chained to his basement wall for a week wearing a sign saying “I’m sorry for lying Lainey” around her neck, and tattoo “I’m a liar” in the small of her back:

When he breaks up with exes, he also slanders and demeans their character on social media. He even does this with friends, other YouTubers, and sometimes just with people - usually women - that he doesn’t like. Including myself, by the way:

Proud moment. :’)

He made a video criticizing his ex (Adrienne) for the number of sexual partners she’s had, as well as implying that her vaginal hygiene was poor, and even made a series of videos in which he went and got himself tested for various STDs in order to imply that she was so promiscuous that she could have given him one (a video which later got deleted off YouTube when he realized how many downvotes it was getting); however, you can see her reference the video in her letter here:

When he and Skye divorced, he slandered her by calling her a thief and a liar, and continued to milk sympathy from his fans by implying that he was unfairly being forced to pay alimony, even though he agreed to the amount in the settlement, and she was rightly owed that money for her part in producing his early Onision videos.

When he broke up with Billie, he said and did several things to demean her character, including calling her a drug addict, imply that she’s “less than” for being a high school dropout who lives with her parents still, and also revealed to his entire fan base that she has an eating disorder, accused her family of being drugs addicts, and that she had been sexually assaulted and had an abortion, a secret which she had previously revealed to only a handful of close friends and family:

After Blaire White called him out for his actions, he made a video calling her so many different vile names, with such vitriolic hatred in his voice, that I actually have trouble watching it all the way through. You can really see his narcissistic rage coming out in this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEVHT6No5Xc

He has exhibited this cycle over and over again with YouTuber Cyr, who he has been friends with off and on for years:

Most recently - meaning since I first wrote this post (about a year and a half ago) - he has continued in this pattern of slandering ex-girlfriends and ex-friends a further three or four times at least; and so this is the part of this sub-heading that will provide new information that was not included in my old post.

After Jaclyn Glenn began dating Richie of SocialRepose, Greg flew off the handle, making a series of insulting comments about Jaclyn’s physical appearance on Twitter and YouTube, including remarking that tall women are gross, and that had she been dating him, he never would have allowed her to get breast implants, because they’re disgusting (and she’s disgusting for having them):

Since she has broken up with Richie, Greg has now reverted to his attempts at love-bombing Jaclyn (and her friend Jessie Paege) on Twitter, hoping to reignite their friendship (and the possibility of bringing her into a new trinity with Lainey, or at least hoping that she’ll be able to give a boost to his YouTube career). 

A few months ago, a close friend of both Greg and Lainey - model, actress, and member of the BDSM community Madison DeCambra - made a video with Greg about the DDlg (Daddy Dom/little girl) kink, which was received very poorly by the DDlg community. Feeling responsible for having hurt and contributed to the misrepresentation of the community that she loves so much, Madison posted a video on YouTube apologizing for any pain that her involvement in Greg’s video may have caused. Greg reacted to this by terminating their six-year-long friendship, as well as - predictably - going on a tirade of character assassinations against her on Twitter, including bringing her two-year-old daughter into it despite having previously accused anyone willing to bring a person’s children up during an argument of being trash. 

These were the texts he sent to Madison, which he then posted publicly on Twitter in order to discard and defame her:

(Source)

Here is a screenshot of Madison arguing with TomatoBisquette (another former friend of Greg’s whom he has discarded, in his case for being friendly towards MrRepzion, a YouTuber who Greg hates for having called him out in the past), who had tried to make light of how upset she was when Greg posted on Twitter telling her that he was disgusted by her and never considered her a friend:

He also used the opportunity to take another pot-shot at Beck - a former fan of Greg and Lainey before she, too, was ousted from their lives - for defending Madi:

However, the worst part of this interaction is that he chose to bring Madison’s two-year-old daughter into the argument, just because he was angry with her mother. Here was Madison’s (understandably angry and hurt) response:

A recent addition to the roster of the Avaroe’s stable of ex-friends, Maya - a 19-year-old bartender who briefly dated Lainey, and who visited them for about a week over the Christmas holidays in 2017 - described Greg’s behavior towards her as being bizarrely, uncomfortably interested in probing her about her past. She felt that he was pressing her for information to use against her in the future, and described the odd, inappropriate expression of pleasure that would come across his face while he was listening to a person describe some misfortune that had befallen them:

It would take me ages to compile a list of all of the exes, friends, YouTubers, and other randoms that he’s demeaned on social media or in his videos, so instead I’m just going to provide a (probably incomplete, and still-growing) list of people whose characters he has assassinated on Twitter or YouTube:

Exes: Skye, Shiloh, Adrienne, Billie 

Friends: Cyr, Andy Biersack (and his father), TomatoBisquette, Maya, Madison DeCambra, Beck, Jaclyn Glenn

YouTubers: Social Repose, Blaire White, Eugenia Cooney, Dan Howell, Keemstar, LeafyIsHere

Other: Ayallah (best friend of Billie, ex-girlfriend of Social Repose), Lainey’s family (father and sister), his own father, Luxymoo (Hailey)

9. Scouting new supply.

Before he had even divorced Skye, he moved on to Shiloh. When Shiloh left him and went back to Canada, he met Adrienne. When he broke up with Adrienne and she refused to take him back, he was texting Shiloh and Skye within 24 hours. When Skye, Shiloh, and Adrienne all refused to take him back, he then moved on to Lainey, who he had met and proposed marriage to within just a few short weeks of meeting. When he got bored of the ultimate power that he exerted over Lainey, he used her as queerbait to pull in Billie. When he and Lainey broke up with Billie - still bored with Lainey - he began auditioning new girls for a spot in his harem (Hailey/Luxymoo, Eryn, Maya, Sam, Beck). Here is a timeline of Greg’s known romantic relationships over the past fifteen years:

If Greg’s high school classmate is to be believed, however, then there are many, many women that Greg has been with that did not make this list.

And finally, here’s a funny, tongue-in-cheek chart chronicling the pattern of what happens when Greg and Lainey bring a new girl into the house: 

Lainey doesn’t know it yet, but this entire cycle is going to begin repeating itself sooner or later. It’s just a matter of time. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were lowkey auditioning girls as I write this.

10. Acting as though nothing happened.

Need I say more?