#and guess what? now I can’t fucking sleep or concentrate :)

[hellfireeddiemunson]

finally having time to myself since 3pm yesterday (it’s 11pm rn) and i want to stay up and relax and watch stuff so i can have a nice time by myself before having to work tomorrow but i am EXHAUSTED and also want to sleep so bad😭😭😭

[aarafox]

When will the normal functionality of my left ear return from war

[grapejuicestyless]

Quiet When I’m Coming Home

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ would give anything for each other, but yet JJ’s insecurities of failing Y/n lead to the one thing they both never wanted to happen, and it’s too hard to let that go.

“Don’t you know I’m no good for you?”

She smiled, her fingers dancing across the dimples in my cheeks, her breath tickling the hair that curled over my brows.

“I’ve learned to lose, you can’t afford to.” My hands traced the curves of her body, holding her against my ribs and dipping my palms underneath her shirt to feel the softness of her skin against the callouses on my hands, feeling the frayed bottom from where the hem was ripped off, the soft material wrapped tightly around my bicep. “You’ll be alone. It won’t take long for me to drag you into my shit.”

“I want to be a part of your shit.” She smiled softly, the moon shining down on her pretty face. She really was the prettiest thing I had ever seen.

“No you don’t.”

“You don’t know that.” She argued, her thumb wiping the dirt out from under my eyelashes, her concentrated stare watchful and gentle all at once.

“This was my favorite shirt, you know.” She toys with the fabric around my arm next, the edges of the scrape poking through. “But it doesn’t really matter because I have a lot of shirts I like, and I can still wear this one. It might be different now, but it works just the same. I love it just like I did before I ripped it up. It’s still a shirt.”

“You’re talking nonsense.” I smiled, leaning in closer to her, in a way that pushed the boundaries of friendship. I wanted to hold her and have her, but even if she swore she wanted everything I had with no regrets or second thoughts, I couldn’t do that for her. I liked her a great deal too much to do that to her.

“No.” She smiled with her teeth. “You just don’t get it yet.”

“I’m sure I don’t.” I agreed, making no effort to move away from her. I didn’t want to move away from her, I liked the way my hands fit around her waist and her legs slotted between my thighs. I liked the feeling of her soft hands wrapping her thin shirt around a scrape on my arm because it felt a whole lot sweeter when she was holding me than when I was.

“I love you, JJ.” She spoke softly, and my breathing stopped. Deep down, I knew without a doubt I shared the feeling, how could I not? But the fear of commitment, and the greater fear of fucking her up made all confessions die in my throat.

“Y/n…” I sighed.

“You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to feel the same way. But you mean a lot to me, and you’ve always been nice to me so I guess I just wanted to let you know.”

“It would never work between us.” I told her softly, not truly believing myself. She was perfect for me, my other half, a grounding force, but inside I felt just like the scared twelve year old boy who didn’t know what a family was, or how to express his feelings without yelling. “Your parents hate me.”

“Well, they hate me too, so we have that in common.” She joked quietly, even though it made me sad because it was true. Even if they had too much pride to admit it, they were always angry at how Y/n had turned out. Never mind the fact that she was smart, ambitious, sweet, and kind, she was bumming around with Pogues instead of laying around lavish houses with the Kooks.

They always wanted her to be the next Cameron, a clone of the fucked up children who lived expensive lives on figure eight. But she never was.

“They’d send you away the moment they would see us together.” I tried to reason. “What would I do then?”

“You’d come get me, I know you would.” She breathed softly. “But that wouldn’t happen, I’d run away before they could take me.”

“They’d get you in the night.”

“I’d sleep at the Chateau.” She argued quickly, a faint smile on her face. She really was something special.

Enough was said and we fell into silence, my nose bumping against hers in the darkness. I could feel her hair tickling my skin, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I risked it all for her.

“What if I hurt you?” I asked softly, my eyes trained on her lips.

“I’ll let you.” She breathed.

It should have made me sick, the way she readily accepted the possibility, but it didn’t. Instead, in some sick way, it only made me want her more. Her devotion was something I’d never known before, and in her oath in which she held me, I wanted to be hers so badly.

“I told you! I told you I’d fuck you up and you promised me you wanted it!” I shouted at her in the doorway, the chateau shaking from how heavy my feet slapped against the wood. I could barely look up, no amount of weed could blur the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I do, Jay! I want all of it, I want all of you!” She breathed out like it hurt her, like it was the last breath she could have taken and she used it on expressing herself to me.

“No you don’t. No you can’t, I’ll ruin you!” I fought back, and she pulled me away from the door. I could have easily slipped away, she hadn’t used much force, but she had me wrapped around her finger, and I let her drag me all the way back to where she stood, clinging onto the hem of my shirt and looking at me like it would kill her if I walked out on her now. Maybe it would.

“Then ruin me, I’m already tragic, so ruin me. Do whatever you want, but please don’t let me go. Don’t walk out just like everyone else ever has.”

Her teary eyes burned my heart, my stomach aching with a beating pain I’d never felt before. I didn’t want to ruin her, but when she begged so nicely, I realized how I’d only hurt her worse by abandoning her.

“Y/n/n, baby.” My thumbs wiped away her tears, my hands resting on her cheeks. Her face sat in the palms of my hands like it was meant to be admired by me, like we were supposed to be wrapped up in each other like this, a mess, but one that tangled itself back together in the end.

“I love you.”

Her voice was quiet, and needy, like she was scared to say it, not because of me, but because part of her believed that it wouldn’t be enough to get me to stay.

“I love you too.” I promised her softly, my lips pressing to her forehead in a lingering moment. “We just need a little space, baby. Just a little.”

She nodded understandingly, and her knuckles untangled themselves from where she pulled on my now stretched out shirt. I heard her mumble an apology under her breath.

“Don’t apologize, don’t. Stop it.” I held her firm again, her face tucked against my chest, her shoulders deflated. “I’ll step away for tonight, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay? It’ll all be alright.” I promised her, my lips finding a home on the top of her head, her hair smelling like sweet tea and mango.

“Okay, okay.” She sniffled, her tears drying up.

I felt the tips of her fingers sliding down from where her arms were woven around me tightly to the edges of my own hands. She held on tightly before flexing her palms, letting me go. Now that we were further apart I could see the redness in her eyes and the pout of her lips.

I wanted to kiss her, but it would only make it worse, so I headed for the door.

“I love you.” I reminded her. “And I’ll call you.”

She nodded, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. She looked so beat down like this, and for a minute I wanted to stay, but I had to think of an apology, and I needed to clear my head.

“Call me when the party’s over?” She confirmed quietly.

“Of course.”

My boots carried me down the old wooden steps, the loud slapping of my feet quiet as they hit the grass at the bottom. I hoped the beer at the boneyard would help sober me up, ironically, and maybe help me get the courage to hold her without the fear of breaking her.

Her shirts took up most of the dresser I claimed back at the chateau. Not that I minded, but sometimes I did find it amusing because more often than not she was laying around in my clothes. She said she liked the smell, though I thought she smelled much better than me. She liked how it made her feel closer to me, in a way. At least, that’s what she told me once.

She always took up have of the bed at least, we had our own sides from the moment we met, but she always slept on top of me, her head resting in the crook of my neck. She was warm, and in the summer, we’d both wake up sweating, but neither of us minded. We’d lay there, tangled and sweaty forever if we could.

I used to look forward to going to work, not because it gave me space from her, but because no matter how long, or short the day was, she was always waiting for me with a smile and a laugh, ruffling my hair between her fingers and pressing a sweet kiss to my skin. I wanted to hold her forever.

Sometimes, her laughter still rang through the house. When we all went on the boat, or soaked up the sun and stuck our toes in the sand, I thought of her, and I know everyone else still did too.

Her parents said she’d be back when they thought she earned it, but they hated her more than anyone I ever knew hated anything. So I knew that day would never come, though Sarah told me I should be more hopeful.

Somedays, I still wondered why she went back home the day I went to the boneyard. Deep down, she knew they would take her away the minute she stepped foot inside the place she never knew as home, but she still went.

Part of me believes that it was because she was so trusting, so willing to let people ruin her, take pieces of her, take advantage of her sweetness, she truly believed that her own blood would never do such a cruel thing to her. But they were never family, and blood only goes so far if those who are supposed to look out for you and love you can’t even look at you.

Nowadays, I hated going to work. I hated the beach, and I couldn’t stand the boat. I lied to everyone and promised I felt fine coming home to an empty house, and I lied to myself when I looked in the mirror and told myself it was for the best, because everyone knew it wasn’t.

I had called her, that night before she left. Her voice was quiet, and I thought I heard her feet hitting cement, but I blamed it on the alcohol. She swore she loved me and would be there when I eventually stumbled through the door, but she wasn’t. And she never would be again.

It was so quiet when I came home, and now it would forever be that way. Even if my friends were yelling in the kitchen, silence was all I felt. An empty, hollow feeling.

I wished I had never given us space in the end, and I wished she had never let me. But I wouldn’t change a thing, not with her, not ever. Changing nothing is better than anything.

Even now, I can’t let her go. I can’t let myself let her go. But I can lie and say I like it like this, because it makes it easier to forgive.

[sugudoe]

⋆ ˚ ཐིiཋྀ ˚ ⋆ 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── ✎ ₊· 𝗷𝗷𝗸

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in desperate need of a skin, you, a talented beginner tattoo artist, decides to test your partner and his love for you in a comical way — “ can i tattoo you ? ’’

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’ve been drawing for a couple of days now, and this is inspired by my sibling ( a tattoo artist ) and their influence on me, cause i too wish i could tattoo myself whenever i’m bored. ALSO i know we all see geto as tough but i had to!! and nanami surprised even me but the vision is visioning, you can not deny. I KNOW you can’t do many tattoos in one setting but please it’s just for plot. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: fluff / crackfic / smau with writing / reader has no gender / english is not my first language / there is mistakes because the app beat my ass sowwy / mentions of needles and pain / foul language / suggestive theme and horny police for nanami

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo ﾉ geto ﾉ nanami

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

Satoru is sitting in your chair, ankles fully on display for you, but you’re actually occupied with keeping everything sanitized in the makeshift space of your boyfriend’s spacious room. He is laughing and acting tough until he hears the buzz of the machine, then he stops and gulps.

“Shit, sweets. Don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“It’s too late.” You answer with a devilish smirk, before laughing and putting the pen down. “It’s okay if you don’t want anymore, no pressure.”

Maybe it’s the combo of your puppy eyes with small pout, but Gojo falls for your antics and let you have your way in his skin, it’s takes just a few minutes before you end the drawing of the little ants crawling his ankles. He, obviously, has the limitless off, and that scares him a bit — to feel pain, see dots of his blood. But when he looks at your concentrated face, pain dissolves, and he is happy to have something permanently his made by you, his only love.

By the end, though, he grins at you and asks for another one, bigger, blue! And you make the design and ink him again, before realizing you did not gave him the Suguru cat, but you fall for his dragon. Bitch.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

Geto can see black dots in his vision when he lays belly down on the bed. He is a tough guy, been through stuff you have only an ideia about. You could guess by the minimal details and the fucking huge scar on his chest, he has been deeply cut by something. Still, he is scared of the needle you are holding.

But here he is, presenting his blank large and sexy back to you, making you rethink of doing another thing instead of the tattoo, but you have your opportunity and need to grab it.

“My love, are you ready?” You voice has the buzzing sound of the machine in the background, Suguru groans at that.

“Please, beat me to sleep.” It’s all he says before you touch his face. Before you can say anything, he talks again. “I’m fine, I think. I trust you a lot, baby.”

Suguru soon learns how soft and weightless your hand feels, because although something is burning in his back, he thinks is just you rubbing alcohol — that is until he wonders why are you rubbing alcohol for twenty straight minutes now, and then he shifts his face a bit to stare at you. He almost passed out again when he realized the tattoo is already in progress, but he is fine, and simply goes back to his original head position, before deciding to sleep.

Suguru wakes up hours later with this intricate tattoo on his upper back, he smiles and flexes his muscles on the mirror before staring at you, seeing you googling him. Yeah, if you keep looking at him like that and your hands feeling like feather, he may enjoy this whole thing — he does! By the end of the year, his whole torso is designed by you.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Nanami presented you what could be called a slideshow of tattoos he would like to have. Basically he made a pinterest board and added you to put the tattoos you would think he look nice with (basically all you’ve seen).

By saturday, he is wearing a white shirt, showcasing his big arm’s muscles, you get occupied with a little thing before you even start to prepare the living room. Now, he has no shirt anymore.

“So, what did you choose for me, love?” His soothing voice asks you, he is sitting by your dinner table and you smile at him, showing your tablet with the many arts you made based on what both he and you liked.

“Now you pick one and we start.”

“Can I have all of them?” Oh.. “I like the art, you are so talented, love. Let me be your canvas, do what you want.” Yeah, you get occupied again in the day.

It’s nighttime when you crack your bones and look at both of your boyfriend’s arm, all inked up. He stares at you normally, no pain, no heavy breathing. He really was a punk in high school.

“So, since we already did all 12, can we finish the chest as well? I think legs would be nice too, or neck… I can have neck tattoos now!” Nanami says with a energetic voice when both of you are eating pasta later.

“Damn baby, you are getting addicted.” You sit on his lap, eyes focused on the ink all over him. “Yeah, we can do all that.”

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 9 all chapters

Thank you @treedaddymcpuffpuff for curating this beautiful pic!!!! 🖤🖤🖤

TW: sexual harassment, (not john!)

-The next day, you find that diabolical pain in your shoulder is actually gone. You’ve lived with it for a good six months at least. He actually fixed you. It’s such a relief you could cry. You take his advice, and start doing stretches in the morning and after work, so as not to squander his gift. Though, the thought of receiving another massage from those oh-so-capable hands keeps you up at night sometimes.

You wonder if something will change between you at the shop after your little birthday adventure together, but Mr. Wick doesn’t press his advantage, or act overly familiar. In fact, it’s almost like it never happened at all, and you are torn between relief at maintaining the comfortable status quo, or disappointment because…well.

And just what would that look like? you chide yourself. He’s at least twenty years your elder, capable, interesting, handsome as the devil and rich to boot. Do you think he would just sweep you off your feet and let you live in that beautiful cabin of his up on the mountain with him, away from it all?

What would you have to offer a man like that?

The answer, at least in your estimation, is not much, so you concentrate on not pining for him like a lovesick little fool.

Besides, you tell yourself. You’re going to Italy soon. Maybe you’ll meet someone on your travels to take your mind off the Byronically-broody older man who occupies the corner in your shop, and an unfair amount of space in your thoughts.

It doesn’t seem likely, but a girl can hope.

-You start to have a problem at work with your new shift manager. He just can’t seem to fucking restrain himself from making lewd comments at you. He says them jokingly, but it’s not funny, at all. You made the mistake of laughing along awkwardly the first time because you were so shocked and didn’t know what to do. Now he thinks he has carte blanche with you, or worse, that you’re flirting back.

Unfortunately, he’s the owner’s ne’er do well son. It was totally a pity hire, even though you’ve been there longer and are way more qualified for his job. You guess your habit of disappearing for a month to travel probably knocked you out of the running.

Since you’ll be leaving soon for Italy anyway, you feel emboldened to sit down for a second across from Mister Wick when he comes in. He looks at you inquisitively, but not like he’s annoyed you’re intruding.

“I don’t think I’m coming back after my trip,” you feel obligated to tell him, for some reason.

“You can’t leave.” He says it so quickly, and maybe there’s even a note of panic in it. There’s something a little fragile about this imposing man. You feel like maybe only you see it, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

“I just don’t think I can do this anymore. My boss is a creep.” You used to look forward to your job, but now you’ve started dreading coming into work when he’s on the schedule with you. You’re filled with anxiety all the time now, and it’s cut into your sleep because you keep having nightmares about it too.

Mr. Wick’s eyes narrow, and suddenly you are reminded of a wolf. “Is he bothering you?”

You make a face. “He just says gross stuff all the time. It’s wearing. But he’s the owner’s son, so I’m kinda fucked.” The fact that you’re cursing in front of a customer shows how worn down you are.

You’d tried to talk to the owner, Mark, and had been completely blown off about it with the usual tired excuses. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just joking.

Well, ha ha fucking ha.

It was a small indie shop, there was no HR. Your only real recourse, as far as you could tell, was to quit, but you wouldn’t have time to find another job before your trip, and you were counting on your next few paychecks to make ends meet.  

 “That shouldn’t matter,” Mr. Wick insists.

You sigh, because that is the world a Tall White Male occupies, versus your own situation.

The next day after the morning rush you are cleaning up your station when Kyle creeps up, making a gross comment about how he’s jealous of the way you’re “jacking off” the steamer wand as you wipe it down.

“Could you not say stuff like that to me?” you finally snap, exasperated.

“Come on, I was just joking,” he says with a leer, like it’s your fault that you’re uncomfortable.

“You will never speak to her like that again.”  

The voice from behind the two of you is cold as Siberian winter. Neither of you heard Mr. Wick approach. In fact, you didn’t even know he was in the shop. The look he is giving Kyle is pure murder. It’s not even directed at you, and you feel the chill to the marrow of your bones.

“S—sorry, sir. I was just—”

“No, you weren’t. Stop it.”

“Yeah. Ok, sorry.”

Kyle flees for the back, mumbling about having some paperwork to do. You breathe a sigh of relief, and there is some annoying moisture welling in the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, and you are sorely tempted to leap over the counter and hug this man. He just nods sharply, and goes back to his table. Once again, you can’t help but feel like you have a guardian angel watching over you from the corner. If Kyle is smart enough to take the hint, it will all be fine.

But then you start to think about what just happened a little more.

You start to get an uneasy feeling, and you get Cassie to cover the register while you dare to seek out your dark savior outside as he’s making to leave in his Range Rover. “Mr. Wick?” you ask in hushed tones as he opens his door.

He cants his head in answer, turning to you.

“Please, don’t…light his car on fire or anything?”

He steps in close enough to you that you feel you are engulfed amidst the breadth of his chest and his downturned head. You can smell the warm, masculine spice of his cologne, and maybe you are a little idiot, knowing what you’re pretty sure you know about this man…but it takes every iota of your self-control not to lean into him.  

“I don’t know what you mean?” he says pointedly in a low voice.

“Just…” You make a fist of all the words you want to say, but can’t. You don’t know where you get the cheek to pound his chest with it in your frustration, even if very lightly. It’s like a stone wall beneath your hand, and for some reason that ties something low in your abdomen up in knots.

Maybe you wouldn’t be mad if Kyle lost his dick in an unfortunate petting zoo accident, but...you don’t want him dead. You feel a responsibility in this matter you didn’t with the predators in the van. “Please?”

He engulfs your small hand with his, holding it over his heart.

“I'm just going to go talk to the owner,” he assures you.

“That’s Kyle’s dad,” you inform him, again.

“I’m aware. I’ve dealt with situations like this before.” He smirks a little, and you don’t understand the joke. “If you don't push back on assholes like that, they think they run the world.” 

Wasn’t that the truth.

“Ok.” Then you realize, he might mean he’s going now. “Wait, it's his day off. He hates being disturbed at home.” 

The owner is kind of a big deal in your small town. His own father has been a local business owner and the mayor off and on for a long as you can remember. Their family is connected. You guess that’s why Kyle feels so free to act the way he does.

Must be nice.  

“That's too bad,” says John with a lift of eyebrow like he absolutely doesn't give a shit.

“Wait…how do you know where he lives?”

This seems to amuse him. “This isn't exactly a big place. And...that's kind of what I do. Or used to, anyway.” 

It's the most he's outright told you about his past. It gives you a little chill, and you wonder how much longer you’ll let yourself play dumb. He’s the kind of man who isn’t afraid to take the law into his own hands. He’s missing a finger, and though they’re long healed, you’ve noticed the faint scars on his gorgeous face. He’s gruff and forbidding with a body that could be chiseled from some kind of physicalwork, and eyes that are sharp as a falcon’s, and oh god you hope he doesn’t do anything drastic to persuade Mark to see things his way.

For you, a little voice in the back of your head reminds you. You are half afraid of what’s to come, and half…in love, maybe, if you’re being honest with yourself.   

“I'm so getting fired,” you sing-song under your breath.

“Then…you’ll just have to come work for me.” 

There is a breathtaking sparkle in his dark eyes he says this. It sends a delicious thrill shooting through you, and in a ditch effort to hide how thirsty you are for this man you narrow your eyes at him.

“There better not be an ulterior motive to this caper,” you grouse with no real venom. Then, curiosity gets the better of you. “What would I even do?” 

“I’ve been thinking…I might need a governess for Dog. All he does is eat and lay around all day. He needs some culture.”

You roll your eyes at this. 

“Oh, and pray what does the position of Governess to Master Dog pull?” you play along.  

“What sounds fair? 50 thousand per annum?”

If you were really committed to the bit, you would have swooned into his arms. It was all too tempting. The thought of going to Mr. Wick's beautiful home to play with Dog, as a job that paid a livable wage, sounds like a dream. With the added bonus of...him, at home, all to yourself. Just the thought makes a red-hot flush bloom from your neck to your cheeks.

John smirks down at you, but is kind enough not to call you out on it.

You can’t help but notice he is still holding your hand.  

It dawns on you that this is the first time he's ever been this playful with you. Does the thought of going into a confrontation excite him? It probably does, you realize. If he’d done the kind of work you expect he might have…life in Clear Forks must seem pretty boring, after a while.

You probably seem pretty boring too.

“Very funny, Mr. Wick. And a little mean, dangling that in front of me.”

“Who's being funny?”

But he says it with such a devilish smile, and you just can’t chance taking him seriously. It’s too…much.

You try to disguise your shuddering sigh, and fail, badly. You try to take back your hand, but he holds on, and you are unable to budge him. You can feel his heart beating against your fist. Steady, but fast.

He’s enjoying this as much as you are.

 “I'm probably not supposed to ask you this, but...were you a spy?”

This question sobers him a little, and he levels you with that look. You know it’s meant to be stern, but god. All it does is make you ache.

“You'd better get back inside, Miss y/n. But if fuckhead bothers you again, you tell me. Immediately.”

He says the words, but it still takes him a few seconds more to release you, those dark eyes boring down into yours.

“Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

He nods before getting in his Rover.

You’re sorrier than usual to see him go.

As the day goes on and you remain unmolested, most of the tension in your shoulders lifts, and you almost feel normal again. You believe that everything will be fine, one way or another.

Of course, later, Fuckhead makes a point to tell you, as you're leaving at the end of your shift, that he's not scared of your old man. 

Easy to say, once Mr. Wick is far out of ear shot. 

However, in a week's time, Kyle is a no show. Suddenly he's decided to leave town—on a day he was supposed to open the shop, leaving his dad high and dry. Mark is livid and swears Kyle is disowned, and you get your little life back at the Clear Forks Coffee Co.

[rinneroraito]

sobering up

almost 3K words, rejection, continuation of this

I actually don’t remember when I woke up, I just realized my eyes were open and I was staring at the off-white ceiling of the headquarters’ office. Dawn was breaking, evident by the soft rays of light coming in through the room by the gaps in the curtains. A sharp pang starts up in my head like I was wearing a crown of thorns around my skull and I wince in pain, hissing as I draw in a slow breath. The blanket that was draped over me falls off of my shoulders while I slowly get up from the couch. Every movement made my eyes go out of focus, the shooting pain setting off flashes of light behind my dry eyes. I never knew even blinking would become laborious in my state.

Fuck, I forgot to hydrate myself last night when I drank…

Turning my neck carefully to the side, I could see a tray with a bottle of sports drink and what seems to be a painkiller on the coffee table. I gingerly reached out to take the drink and the medicine, hoping it would be enough to relieve me of my hangover. The silver casing of the ibuprofen makes a popping sound as I break it and shove the pill between my lips. I finish the entire bottle of sports drink and I lean back into the couch, nursing my headache. The humming of L’s computers and the clacking from his keyboard are the only things I could hear along with my breathing. Concentrating on these sounds I fall asleep again.

—

The sunlight coming through the windows of the office sting my cheeks and I wake up once more, slowly straightening myself up from my position. As I look around with my bleary eyes, I see L at the other side of the room, still working. I grabbed the blanket off of the floor and hung it loosely over the arm of the couch. The pounding in  my head from my initial awakening has slightly abated.

Well, I didn't forget what I did last night though, that's for sure. There goes my dignity. Great going, Rinne, you’ve shamelessly confessed to L that you had a crush on him. Why did you even do it? You didn’t even need to drink that much last night, you stupid, stupid girl. Why couldn’t you stay in your room and sleep? What does he think of me now? Does he think that maybe I’m just a fangirl fawning over him? Good lord, am I going to be taken off of this investigation? Fuck… 

I don’t even notice myself hunching over with my hands covering my face, palms pressed to my cheeks so hard as if trying to force the embarrassment I felt back into the recesses of my mind where I couldn’t find them.

Goddamnit, Rinne, why are you such an idiot with your feelings… Stupid, stupid alcohol. Stupid, stupid, drunk Rinne… He’s not some ordinary guy, he’s the fucking Greatest Detective in the World, you can’t just willy-nilly go up to him like that and-

“Good morning, Miss Uehara.”

My head snaps up so fast that my mouth hangs open as I look at L. Hearing his voice almost sobered me up, but seeing his stoic face made my ears burn as blood started to rush to my head in mortification. I look away and frantically wipe the corners of my eyes with my fingers, hoping my face looked decent enough to him.

“Good morning, Detective…”

“Are you sober? Is there anything else you need to aid with your hangover or was the Ibuprofen and sports drink enough?”

“I um…” I hesitated before answering, clawing at my hair to smooth it over my shoulder, my eyes distant. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“You always seem to hesitate with communicating your needs, Miss Uehara. Does having your necessities catered to make you feel too much like a burden?”

Sometimes I wished he wasn’t as observant and as perceptive as he was, hearing him say it out loud made me want to retort at him but my hangover was keeping my attitude in order.

“Fine, I guess I could have some warm broth, a soda and another sports drink…”

“Soda? For a hangover?”

“It helps with the nausea.”

“Alright, I’ll have Watari bring them up. Please remember not to be reluctant with making your needs known, it’ll make things less complicated for you.” He takes out a phone from his jeans pocket and starts to give instructions to Watari while my mind is still stuck with his last sentence.

That’s easier said than done… 

He’s blunt with his words and is indifferent towards how people will take them, and I’m no exception from that kind of treatment. I’m just another one of the Task Force members working with (or more like under) him after all, another tool in his arsenal.

“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.”

He shoves the phone back into his pocket before leaning towards my direction to speak again.

“How much time do you need to sober up for?”

“I am sober, the ibuprofen is doing its job with the headache.”

“Sober enough to hold a proper conversation with me?”

There it is. The confrontation I’ve been dreading. 

My body immediately felt cold as the air in the office seemed to freeze around me. I hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t looking at his face since I greeted him, realizing my eyes had been glued to the now-empty bottle of sports drink on my hands. My thumb goes over the ridges on the plastic as I begin to feel the thorns around my skull loosen up, not from the painkiller but from this whole interaction we were having.

“You waste no time, do you? Of course you don’t,” I remarked sullenly, still staring at the ridges on the plastic bottle I held.

“I would like to clear the air between us as soon as possible.”

“Yea, I figured.”

“Miss Uehara, please look at me.”

The hesitation is evident from the stretch of silence that extends between the two of us as I continue to scratch at the ridges of the plastic bottle with a nail, refusing to look up at him. I didn’t want him to dig out the shame from my expressions no matter how blank I tried to keep my face, nor did I want him to look at me. Not with those eyes of his.

What he does next surprises me as he crouches down on the floor, tilting his head to the side so he could meet my gaze.

There they are, those sharp unblinking eyes, boring holes through my defensive aversion.

“I can answer you without needing to look at you, Detective…”

“I know, but I’d like to gauge your expressions just to make sure you’re not lying to me.”

I meet his eyes briefly, gritting my teeth.

“Lying by omission is still lying, Miss Uehara.”

You son of a bitch.

With the enthusiasm of a cat being given a bath, I stared back at him, trying my best to match his neutral expression.

“Do you remember what you told me last night?”

“I do.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

He looked down for a moment, and when he looked back up at me he had a thumb pressed to his lips.

“Miss Uehara, are you actually infatuated with me, or was it just a case of drunken rambling?”

The crunch of the empty plastic bottle tears through the morning silence as my grip on it tightens. Fuck. I straighten myself up on the couch, wringing the poor bottle with both hands now in an attempt to keep myself emotionally intact. I wanted to answer, but no words came out. I wasn’t even looking at him again; my eyes stayed on the now-mangled piece of plastic that used to be a bottle of sports drink. I feel like throwing up.

“Miss Uehara-”

He sounded too close and I whipped my head to the side to see that he had perched himself next to me. His proximity caused me to flinch back, keeping a significant amount of space between us.

“Answer my question, please.”

L is persistent, unbearably stubborn, and for the few weeks that I’ve worked with him I know now that I can’t just drop this conversation. He won’t let it go until he gets the truth out of me.

“Fine,” I started, peering back into his piercing stare apprehensively. 

“I am infatuated with you, Detective. What are you going to do about it?”

There was a scathing quality to the way I said the last sentence. Why was I so angry about this whole situation anyway? Is it actually anger or just annoyance over the fact that my confession came out severely underprepared out of a drunken impulse, and I have to face the consequences of it now?

He observes me unblinkingly as he brings his thumb between his teeth and gnaws at it for a moment before speaking again. “I see. Miss Uehara, allow me to be completely honest with you.”

The couch gives just a little when he leans closer to me. I felt my breath hold, my hands growing clammy around the mangled plastic bottle.

“Do not be mistaken, I am flattered that you find me as someone you could be fond of, even though I am now questioning your taste in men. That aside, I am in no place to return your affection, as I do not feel the same.”

The breath I had been holding comes out as a gasp. Was it out of relief? Shock? I wasn’t sure, but I started to laugh.

What was I expecting? That he’d entertain me just because I liked him? We’re in the middle of a fucking investigation that literally spells life or death for everyone involved and here I was, hoping that he felt the same? Oh, oh… I’m laughing because this whole thing was funny, and I was being stupid. He probably thinks I’ve gone mad.

The poor Detective looked bewildered by my reaction as I tried to pull myself together, raising a finger at him to give me a minute.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. Um, it’s stupid, isn’t it? But yeah, don’t worry about it, you don’t need to return my feelings nor acknowledge them, we’ve got more pressing matters on our hands.”

“I am sensing a hint of passive aggression in your tone.”

“Just-” I squeezed my cheeks with my palms before I continued speaking. “Listen to me, Detective. I think part of the reason I came here last night and did what I did was because I wanted to get that off of my chest no matter how you’d take it. I did it drunk because I knew deep down I’d never feel brave enough to admit any of that to you while sober. Confronting me about it now is jarring, to say the least, because it’s something I decided to do on impulse without any thought. It’s also hard for me to explain to you that the truth is, I just started pouring my heart out to you because I was drunk and it felt…right.”

Our conversation gets briefly interrupted by Watari who arrives with a tray of the items L requested from earlier. He silently sets them down on the coffee table before us, takes the blanket from the arm of the couch where I hung it, nods and then leaves. I took this small break as an opportunity to grab the new bottle of sports drink and take a few swigs from it. L looks away for a moment, chewing on the nail of his thumb. Everything probably gets rolled around in his mind a hundred times before he decides on the most logical explanation to an incident, and I wonder… Is that why he keeps eating sweets at work, to keep his brain running? What does he think of when he’s not busy trying to solve a case? Is he doing the same thing with my “confession”? He just outright told me that he does not feel the same. Am I actually taking his rejection well? What else am I expecting? 

What am I expecting?

“I feel like I’m not making sense and I’m just rambling again. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I understand. At least, I understand what you’re trying to convey.”

“Okay… Sure?”

“It’s not stupid, Miss Uehara, and I value your straightforwardness. You’ve also told me last night that you might start to feel awkward around me due to your confession, so I assume they really are your honest feelings. You were the very first person to approach me and express your sentiments about me outside of my investigative work. To be honest, I would still like to ask you out, that hasn’t changed from the first time I met you but the circumstances we’re currently in will not allow us such a dalliance…”

L pauses, thumbing his bottom lip. My eyes stay locked on his as rays of sunlight pass through the gaps in the curtains. The light scattered on one side of his face, and I could feel the heat on my cheek, too. It takes me a while to realize what he just said and I now question if the warmth I was feeling on my cheeks were from the sunlight or the blood rushing to my face. My legs start to bounce.

Oh …

“When I said I did not feel the same way about you, I meant that whatever you might be feeling towards me is something I cannot reciprocate at the moment. I find you attractive, and I am impressed by your abilities as an investigator, but I do not feel the way you do about me, and I believe a certain amount of reciprocity is required for two people to connect. You deserve that much, and I am not the person for that.”

He held my gaze steadily while he spoke and he looked away as soon as he finished, thumbing his bottom lip. My face was burning at this point and I brought a hand up to squeeze my cheeks together, placing the bottle of sports drink back on the table. Unspoken words hang in the air of the morning for a few moments, the silence so thick it was almost palpable. I glance at the World’s Greatest Detective whose elbows rested on his knees, still deep in thought.

“Thank you for your honesty, Detective,” I finally replied.

“You’re welcome.” “Now I wish I could have taken you up on your offer that first time we met. Maybe things would be different now.”

“There’s no use crying over spilled milk, Miss Uehara.”

“I know, Detective, I know. I’ll just enjoy whatever time I get to spend with you, I guess.”

He looks back at me, his piercing eyes a mysterious dark lake I’m trying to wade into.

“Just because you rejected me doesn’t mean I’ll stop liking you immediately, you know? It takes a while for feelings to disappear,” I continue.

“You’ll be hurt.”

“I’m hurt now.”

For some reason, the statement appears to have caught him off guard, and he takes his time responding.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I wonder if it was genuine or something just out of his  accustomed courtesy.

“It’s part of the entire thing, not exactly new to me.”

“Why would you willingly put yourself in a situation where you’ll be hurt? Is the payoff truly worthwhile for something as risky as a romantic relationship?”

My eyes trail off to the bowl of warm broth I had requested earlier and I take it with both hands, sipping directly from it completely disregarding the spoon that came with it.

“Because it’s exciting, fulfilling to me in a way and in my experience, yes. It is worth it.”

I could feel him staring at me as I pondered over the bowl before taking a few more sips from it. Then I realized something from the question he just asked.

He’s never been in a relationship before, has he?

The bowl feels warm on my palms as I return my gaze to L.

“You’ve never been romantically involved with someone, Detective?”

“No, I never had the time to nurture one. It would be pointless as I’d only be neglecting them due to my work.”

“Hm, that makes sense. There’s also the danger attached to being connected to you, and becoming a liability.”

There’s a solemn quality to his expression as he nods.

Was this a man who has completely accepted his lonely fate of solving crime because it’s what he liked to do and was good at? Was Watari the only constant human connection he’s had his whole life? Did he really just spend most of his time solving crime after crime, mystery after mystery? Was he never really going to take a chance at… 

Rinne, stop it. 

Why are you still hoping? Stop it.

We’re silent for a while. My legs stop bouncing momentarily as I settle the now empty bowl of broth back on the coffee table. I then grab the can of soda and crack it open, the pop and fizz ringing out in the warmth and awkwardness of the atmosphere.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks in his familiar monotone.

“Yeah, sobering up,” I reply, bringing the can up to my mouth.

The soda wasn’t cold enough.

[medusapelagia]

10 - The Tower of Terror

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: "Where were you?”) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: enemies to allies) and @aug-kissed (prompt: Blow a Kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: Witcher AU, violence, blood, injuries Words: 1626

(An AU inside an AU?!?! Yes 😂)

When Steve’s mom dragged him to Kaer Morhen as a kid, Steve didn’t know that she was selling him to the mages to make a witcher out of him. He just thought it was a funny adventure. They rode in a little carriage together with some cabbages, and then they crossed the woods and started the same long path that now Steve is walking down, holding Roach's bridle with one hand, guiding the stubborn girl down the steep slope.

Steve never knew how much the mages gave his mom. He hopes they gave her a lot, she still had other five kids at home and he was just another mouth to feed: too young and weak to be really helpful working at the farm.

Now his mom and his brothers are long gone, but Steve is still there, doing what he was raised to do: killing monsters.

At the end of the winter, he says his brothers and their father goodbye, and gets back on the path, ready to kill monsters and humans alike. Because sometimes, the worst monsters have human skin.

On his back are his two faithful swords, silver and iron, that he keeps in tiptop shape, cleaning and sharpening them every night before resting.

He doesn’t stop at the first few villages, he wants to leave them to his brothers, but he keeps walking toward the farthest towns, looking for little villages that definitely need a witcher, even if most of them can’t really afford him. But Steve was never too high-maintenance: if the people are nice to him and they really need help, he will help them, in exchange for some food and a comfortable place to sleep. 

He would probably help them for free as well, but even witchers need to eat and sleep.

That’s how he finds out about the Tower of Terror. An old tower that’s all that remained of a big castle up the hills and that was destroyed during a strong earthquake.

He’s eating some bland soup, the only thing he can afford at the beginning of the hunting season, when a man, wearing fancy clothes, sits next to him.

“You’re a witcher, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away? The white hair or the yellow eyes? Maybe the two swords on my back?” Steve asks sarcastically, he doesn’t want to have anything to do with rich men, they are the ones that always try to fuck him up and pay him less than the agreed amount.

“Snarky, aren’t you? I thought all of you were grumpy and scary men.” 

“Met many witchers?” Steve asks without even turning.

“A couple. When I was a kid. Anyway, I have a job for you. I want you to go to the Tower of Terror and free the place from all the monsters that inhabit that place.”

Steve lifts an eyebrow, “Did they attack the village?”

“Not yet. But they are monsters! We can’t live under the threat of those monsters coming for us if we want to become a bigger village. You see? At the moment all we have are just a few houses, but the road that leads to us is the quickest route to get to Hawkins. If we manage to kill every monster in the Tower of Terror, we will be finally able to attract more travelers and become a bigger city.”

“And make more money.”

“And make more money.” The man agrees, “The tower is full of gold and jewels, you could take anything you want once you clean it from the monsters. So what do you say? It’s a pretty big deal.”

“What kind of monsters haunt the tower?” Steve asks, squinting his eyes, pensive.

“How the fuck would I know! I never got there.”

“I don’t take jobs if I don’t know what I’m facing.”

“Oh. Too bad. Well, I guess I’ll ask the other witcher.”

That catches Steve's attention. What other witcher? He concentrates, trying to find a slow heartbeat like his but finds none.

“Oh, he’s not here yet, but we sent a messenger a few weeks ago and he promised to come soon. In the beginning, I thought it was you, but the messenger told me about dark pitch-black hair, so…”

There’s one witcher crazy enough to accept a job without knowing what the fuck he’s going to face. A witcher on his back has two swords and a lute. A witcher that’s crazy like all the witchers from the Cat School. 

Eddie.

Steve takes his bowl of soups and gulps it down in one go, slamming it on the table, “Good for you.” he says, leaving the tavern.

He’s not even halfway through the village when he hears a familiar voice singing a stupid song, he turns in time to see Eddie get off his dark horse and put away his lute.

“When the tavern owner told me a grumpy witcher with white hair came to the rescue I couldn’t believe my luck.” He grins, getting closer to Steve who is still riding Roach.

“Not here to help you. Just looking for a job.”

“Are you saying to me you’re allergic to money? Because, my dear Steve, that castle is full of gold and jewels. So full that you won’t have to hunt for at least ten years.”

“And became old and fat in the meantime? No thanks.”

“Come on! It will be fun! You and me against the world!”

“There’s no you and me. There’s you. And there’s me. And our paths won’t cross again.”

“Oh, you weren’t so adamant when I was fucking you against the tree in the middle of the woods a few summers ago.”

“That was a one-time thing. And we were drunk.”

“Were we, Stevie?” Eddie asks, licking his lips and showing the little cat fangs.

“We come from different schools.”

“Doesn’t mean we are enemies. I'm pretty fond of you, actually.” Eddie says, blowing him a kiss and then winking at him.

“It does,” Steve replies, deadpan, before hitting Roach in the stomach and pushing her to gallop away.

“Tomorrow, at first lights! I’ll be there, waiting for you!” Eddie yells, but Steve doesn’t even turn.

***

Steve doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t even meditate. He just tosses and turns, thinking about that only night he shared with Eddie years before. How good it felt to be adored and loved even if it wasn’t real.

Finally understanding he won’t get any more sleep he sits near the ember of his fire, trying to remember everything he knows about the Tower of Terror. He has definitely read something about it but now all he can think about are pale hands wrapping his sex while a horny voice whispers dirty things in his ear.

If Eddie is really going to get into the Tower alone he will die, and those hands will never touch Steve again with reverence and desire.

It’s not Steve’s problem. If Eddie wants to die he’s free to do as he wishes.

Roach turns her head, glaring at him from the tree she’s tied to.

“Ok, I get it. I get it.” Steve sighs, dismounting the camp and preparing himself to fight.

***

It’s the smell of blood to guides him through the stupid tower, not the greedy, as Eddie insists when they meet in a maze of corridors.

The dark-haired witcher is holding his side, a deep wound gushing blood through his fingers, but Steve doesn’t have the time to take care of his injuries, because the monsters with no eyes are attacking them again, their shriek so loud on Steve’s sensitive ears that he has to fight with himself not to drop his sword and protect his ears with his hands.

With a slash, he cuts the arm that’s reaching out toward his head and when the creature loses its balance, Steve’s sword pierces him from side to side. He doesn’t even have the time to retrieve the blade, when another creature, smaller than the first, attacks him, making him fall on his back while he tries to keep the monster’s mouth away from his face. Steve kicks it in the stomach and the creature yelps, recoiling just enough to give Steve the time to grab the dagger from his belt and cut its throat.

The dark and warm blood falls on his clothes and his face, and Steve curses, kicking the dead beast.

“You should think about dyeing your hair.” Eddie chuckles, spitting some blood, “Black maybe it’s a little too dark fir your skin complexion, but I think chestnut would be perfect for you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve replies, trying to determine how bad the injury is.

“Where were you? I thought we agreed to be here at dawn.”

“I didn’t agree.”

“I heard you growl, distinctly. That’s not how your school expresses agreement?”

“Fuck you.” Steve says, fishing some vials for his bag, “Take this.”

“Swallow? How magnanimous of you.” 

“Just drink it and let’s get out of here.”

“Can’t.”

“Come on Eddie. Not even a cat can be so stupid to risk his life for some jewels that were probably stolen ages ago.”

“Have you ever seen monsters like these?” Eddie asks, pointing to the two dead creatures.

Steve squints at the monsters without eyes. He doesn’t remember having read anything about them in the book he studied, and he definitely hadn’t met such creatures before.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if you come with me we could find something more than gold and jewels.” Eddie drinks the potion in one go and gives the vial back to Steve, “Can we be allies, for once?”

Steve stares at the other witcher who slowly gets up, one hand still protectively in front of his wounded side.

Allies.

Just for this time.

They shake hands, and then their medallions start to shake like crazy.

(Should I start working on a Part 2???)

[sunshinegat0r]

I’ve had a song stuck in my head all week, can you guess which one? Also Eustass Kid is so fucking fun to write, what the heck! Modern AU, established relationship, just thought it’d be nice to see him as obsessed with reader as I am with him. 🙃

Perfect ~ Eustass Kid x F!Reader

CW: Swearing, brief mentions of sex acts (masturbation, grinding), nothing too exciting.

WC: ~1.2k

“What’re you doin’?”

You glance over your shoulder and unfold your torso, pulling up the large boxer-briefs patterned with cartoon nuts and bolts. You release the waistband with a flourish and let the elastic snap against your hips with a smirk.

“I feel more comfortable with something on, and-” you glance around the semi-chaotic state of the bedroom, “-I have no idea where my underwear even are.”

“I ripped ‘em off ya.”

“Eustass!” you chide, no real heat behind the words. “I liked that pair!”

The red-head shrugs with a big grin and tucks his arm behind his head, propped against the headboard of his giant-sized bed. He has to admit it’s a nice view, watching you move around his room topless and wearing his clothes.

“Why’re you leavin’ me all alone over here?” Kid sulks.

You move to the desk in the corner, dragging over a small desktop mirror and some makeup wipes. “Some of us have things to do this afternoon and can’t stay in bed all day fucking.” Kid tsks at that - you know he could keep you trapped in his bed if he really wanted to.

“And as much as I love your, uh, art, I don’t think my boss would appreciate it nearly enough,” you tease, peering at your body in the mirror.

Reddish-purple lipstick is smeared all over your skin. While there are rare spots that form a perfect set of lips, it’s mostly lines of color, left from where Eustass Kid dragged his lips along your body as he ravished you. Your lips and neck suffered the most attention, but you blush as you notice the prominent amount concentrated on your breasts, and the trail down your stomach leading in between your legs.

You turn the mirror to meet Kid’s gaze behind you and find he has the most insufferable grin on his face. Truly caught red-handed - or red-lipped - his own mouth is anything but neat and tidy.

You roll your eyes, a soft smile lifting your lips, and adjust the mirror back towards yourself, grabbing a wipe to start removing the evidence. You don’t bother taking a seat at the desk, you just lean over and get to work.

As he watches you with sharp golden eyes, Kid’s smile slips slowly from his face. The gears in his head are spinning fast enough he’s surprised you can’t hear him thinking.

He’s fucked.

Well, technically you both were - he’d made sure of that thoroughly - but he’s in real trouble here.

He can’t tear his eyes off of you. You look so perfect standing there in his underwear, with his marks decorating your pretty skin like the finest museum-worthy art piece. It’s not an unfamiliar sight - the two of you had been dancing this tango for months now. Neither of you wanted to put any labels on it. For Kid, at first it had been a fun distraction from the regular bullshit of living.

Now, thoughts of you distracted him from every other aspect of his life. You were the first thing on his mind when he woke up, checking his beat-up phone for a text from you (since you were usually up hours before him). No matter what his day consisted of, even in the palace of his workshop, it was plagued by thoughts of you. And at night, when he couldn’t sleep for tossing and turning, your eyes, your smile, your body, consumed him as he tugged his aching cock, desperate for your touch to wear him out.

It was safe to say Kid was a bit obsessed, which was new territory for him. But as he watched you, all soft curves and graceful limbs, humming tunelessly and tapping your foot a little, he knew. All he ever really wanted was you.

You straighten from the desk and give yourself a final once-over in the mirror, satisfied with your work. You haven’t bothered cleaning up the marks below your neck - the collar of your shirt will hide all of that.

And besides, you… Kind of like the idea of walking around with Kid’s claims burning on your skin, with no one else the wiser. The thought brings a warm flush to your cheeks and you turn sheepishly towards the bed.

You’re surprised out of your own embarrassing thoughts by the sight of Kid looking just as flustered. Briefly you wonder if he knew what you intended by leaving yourself in such a state. His large hand is covering his eyes but it’s not enough to hide the blush bathing his own cheeks and tips of his ears, bright red against his pale skin.

Padding softly over to the side of the bed where he’s reclining, you lean in and blow a gentle puff of air into his ear. Kid jumps and swears, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s enough to make you giggle; you’ve never seen his feathers look so ruffled.

“Penny for your thoughts, babe?” The question is dripping with false innocence as you walk your fingers up his arm.

Kid scowls and looks away, twists his arm to grab your wandering hand with his own. You yelp when he tugs you back into his lap and you settle, straddling him. You’re suddenly glad for his underwear; flimsy barrier though it may be, anything to give you a chance not to be lured back into his clutches.

Eustass Kid was never one to back down from a challenge and he’s not about to start now. Despite the heat still painting his face he manages to pin you with his golden gaze. His mouth works for a few moments before he forces the words out through clenched teeth.

“Just… Realized how much ya mean to me. How - whenever I think about what I want, you’re top of th’ list. By leagues.”

Your eyes widen and you feel like you could melt straight through the bed, the floor, into the earth below. You thought your face was on fire before - now it’s your turn to cover it with your hands.

At least, you try, but Kid has a firm grip on your left hand and he’s not letting go to save you any dignity. If anything, your reaction seems to have given him some of his cocky swagger back.

He snickers at your distress and gathers both of your hands into his large one, raising your arms above your head and leering at you like a fresh-caught prize. “What’s wrong, treasure?” he coos ominously. “Can’t handle a little sincerity?”

You shake your head and let out a surprised gasp when he pulls you against his chest, his mouth immediately back on your neck and undoing all your hard work. “Only you could turn such an embarrassing confession to your favORRrr,” you mutter, a particularly hard nip turning the last syllable into a quaking moan.

You feel an inescapable hardness growing through your stolen underwear. A secret smile spreads across your lips and you arch against Kid’s chest, grinding your hips down and wrenching a garbled curse from him against your skin.

You were definitely going to be late for work.

Tag List: @zoros-sheath @quinloki (Your pinned post says to tag you in any Kid stuff so here I am hello goodbye 🫣)

[rainbowcaleb]

FICLET FRIDAY : Shenanigans

Prompt: (discord emojis haha) soup Essek, boop paw, Beau, Veth. | Characters: guess who | CW: none | Words: 737

Beau is barely through the threshold of the doorway when a sharp yank on her arm sends her sideways. Someone else might have tripped and spilled onto the floor, but Beau’s core strength and reactions are not like other people. 

She did hiss out a swear. 

“Shhhh!” 

Beau glares at her attacker. “What the fuck?”

Veth glares back. “I’m doing an experiment here! Don’t stumble in with your hulking loud steps and mess it up.”

“I don’t have—“

Veth tugs her arm again and Beau shuts up. She flips off Veth but keeps her mouth closed as she looks around the room. She sees a mound of blanket on the couch, it’s shape gently rising and lowering.

“Is that Essek? Is he sleeping?!” Beau whispers.

“Yup.” Veth grins; it feels like a warning. “He must be super tuckered out from all the back and forth teleporting to Aeor with those new chucklefucks.” 

“Yeah, and I need to talk to him about that trip. Soul business.” Beau goes to walk over but she feels something sharp jab her thigh. She glances down and sees metal. “Did you just jab a grappling hook onto my pants?”

Veth smiles wider. “Look again. And don’t ruin this for me.”

Beau narrows her eyes into the distance, cataloging what she sees. Blanket, with Essek underneath, visible from the white hair and pointy ear peeking out. Cat one, the black and white she doesn’t remember its name. Cat two, the brown one that tried to steal her toast once. Cat three, no, that one is a plushie. When did Essek get plushies? A book, maybe he was doing some light reading before— a second book. A third book. There is a stack of books precariously perched and moving with each breath. An empty wine bottle on top of the books– she hoped it is empty. 

“Veth…” Beau meets her with an understanding and mischievous smile. “Are you playing a game?” 

“It’s not a game if I’m by myself.” Veth releases the grappling hook from the folds of Beau’s pants. “How much gold do you have on you right now?”

“A decent amount. I’m not going to wager it all though, I have errands after this and I promised Yasha soup ingredients.”

Veth scoffed. “Wow, Beauregard stepping away from a bet, you really have gone all soft in your old age.”

“Okay, hold on. First, fuck you, but secondly I never said I wouldn’t take the bet.” 

Veth’s eyes glint. “Fifty gold to whoever stacks the most.”

“No, too easy. One hundred gold to whoever stacks the most and doesn’t wake him up. He can’t move at all.” Beau taps her chin. Then rushes back in. “The cats can’t wake up either.” 

“Deal.” Veth sticks out her hand and Beau gladly takes it. 

Immediately, Beau starts looking around the room for things to add. Books can stack with each other but the sliding risk is too high. She needs something softer, but weighty enough to stay in place. She can see Veth circling the room as well, footsteps rogue-soft, and Beau redoubles her efforts. She cannot go home empty handed but for a few clearance veggies for Yasha. 

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

Caleb walks in quietly; he doesn’t know if Essek is still napping or not, but when he left to pick up a few dinner ingredients, Essek had settled himself under the couch blanket and fell asleep almost immediately. He hears shuffling before he sees. It is only due to his years of witnessing and participating in shenanigans that he did not drop his grocery bag.

Essek is still napping. But tucked in with him are quite a few more creatures, objects, and other paraphernalia of unknown origin. He thinks he sees Essek’s favorite soup bowl as well as a single one of Caleb’s rain boots.  

“It’s too late to join if you want in.” Caleb turns quickly and is only half surprised to see Beau climbing halfway up the bookshelf and carrying a bookend down with her. 

“Yeah, we’re not splitting any money with you.” Veth appears from behind the couch, a look of concentration in her face and a wriggling russet cat in her hands. 

“What are you two—“ Caleb squints. “That is not my cat.” 

Veth looks at the creature in her hands. It looks back at her with fluffy eyebrows and a scowl. “Huh. Caleb, you should really leave your windows closed.”

[mellowsadistic]

Lust

“Planning to sleep with someone else’s boyfriend again tonight?” a sneering voice asked.

Eden turned around. She was standing on the front step to the apartment building where her friend Becca lived. The muted sounds of loud techno music were thumping out from the raucous house party within, and bright disco lights flashed behind the curtains of the first three floors. It could only be assumed that their neighbours above had been plied with a suitable amount of gin and whiskey to keep them from complaining.

“What do you want?” Eden asked contemptuously when she saw who it was that had spoken. She rested a hand on her hip and swept her long, dirty blonde hair back. Morgan was in her Comparative Literature class, and she hadn’t taken kindly at all to the way Eden had seduced her boyfriend at a party a few days before. But really, what as a hot guy like Dan doing going out with a mousey girl like Morgan when he could be sleeping with her instead?

Morgan pointed a finger at her, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Eden waited a few moments for her to say something, but the dumb girl just stood there, pointing. Eden laughed. But at that moment that she realised something – she couldn’t move. Her body was frozen in place on the doorstep, hand on her hip, chest thrust forward, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move it an inch.

“What the… What’s going… What have you done?” she asked, her voice growing increasingly panicky. “Why can’t I move?!”

“Because I don’t want you running off while I work on you,” said Morgan, smirking. She lowered her finger, but Eden found that she still couldn’t move a muscle.

“How are you doing this?” Eden demanded fearfully.

“I’m a witch, stupid,” said Morgan. “God, I can’t believe Dan let himself get drawn in by such an airhead. Maybe I ought to turn you into a bimbo – that would be fitting. But no… Enhancing your sex appeal isn’t really what I want to go for, and in any case, I already have just the thing to put you in your place. Didn’t your Mummy ever tell you not to steal other people’s toys, you silly girl? I guess not. But since you acted like a selfish little baby…”

Morgan snapped her fingers, and at once Eden felt her lacy panties thicken between her legs. She gasped with shock as her underwear expanded outwards beneath her skin-tight leggings, turning white and puffy and crinkly, until at last they stopped growing, and there was an unmistakable diaper bulge around her waist, clashing ridiculously with her skimpy party-girl outfit.

“What the fuck!” she shrieked. “Is that a… Get it off! Get it off, get it off, get it off!”

“What are you talking about, silly girl?” Morgan tittered. “You can’t go without your nappies! Especially since I’m about to take away your potty training.”

“My…” Eden’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Please! Oh God, please! Please don’t make me incontinent! I can’t be incontinent! That would be so… so…”

“Disgusting?” Morgan finished for her, grinning. “Yes, I suppose it would,” she went on, thoughtfully. “It does sound pretty yucky, doesn’t it? I’m sure it will be difficult for a hottie like you to get used to peeing and pooping in her own pants.” She shrugged. “But I guess that’s too bad!”

She snapped her fingers again, and Eden’s bladder and bowel control vanished permanently. A rush of pee streamed into her nappy an instant later, soaking into the bulky padding.

“Ewwww!” Eden cried, still frozen in place, unable to do anything but stand there and feel the stream of wee-wee flood her baby pants. “Please don’t do this to me! It feels so gross! Dan’s the one who cheated on you! Why don’t you take revenge on him?!”

“Oh I have,” said Morgan, darkly, “Believe me. But hey, if you ever decide to shack up with him again, the two of you could probably save a lot of money buying nappies in bulk! Although he might not be up for it now, on account of how he’s back living with his Mummy with the mind of a two-year-old. But I’ve got something a little different in mind for you…”

She snapped her fingers once more. Eden felt her body unfreeze, and her hands immediately shot to her nappy, pressing against the sodden, crinkly padding as if she still couldn’t believe it was really there. She was about to rip it off and make a run for it, when a sudden, powerful wave of arousal washed over her. Her knees bent inwards, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from moaning out loud. She was wearing a nappy. A wet nappy. Like some kind of big, dumb baby. Her pussy pulsed with pleasure, and this time she couldn’t stop the soft, slutty moan escaping her lips.

“Ughh… What have you… Mmmmm… What have you done to me?”

“What do you mean, Eden?” Morgan asked innocently, but there was a wicked grin on her face. “I already told you.”

“No, I don’t mean… incontinent…” Eden doubled over, pressing down hard on her pussy through her thick, wet Pampers. She moaned like a whore. “Ughhhhh….. I’m incontinent!” she squealed with a mixture of arousal and horror. “I’ll never use a toilet again!” Her pussy ached. Morgan had turned her into some kind of pervert! She toddled awkwardly off the doorstep, heading for the street as fast as she could with her nappy pushing her legs apart and her hands pressing between them. She knew she must look like a little girl desperate for the potty. A stupid, overgrown baby about to have an accident. But she’d already had an accident. And she was far too little for potties. She groaned lustily.

“Where are you going, silly?” Morgan giggled. “The party’s that way!” she pointed to the door. “Don’t you want to see all your friends? And I bet there will be lots of cute boys inside. Although I don’t know if they’ll find you quite so sexy with a used diaper hanging off your ass.”

“Please,” Eden panted, coming to a halt and rubbing a hand needily against her crotch. “Please… Don’t make me…”

“I’m not going to make you do anything, potty-pants,” said Morgan happily. “I think you’re going to go in all by yourself.”

Eden moaned at the use of the name. Potty-pants. That was her. Little Miss Potty-Pants. She looked over at the door. Becca was in there, and all her friends. And a lot of cute guys. What would they say if they saw her like this? Would they tease her? Would they laugh at her? Would everyone make fun of the stupid little diaper dork? The dumb baby who thought she could be a grown-up.

Eden couldn’t stop herself. She started waddling back over to the door, her wet nappy squishing between her thighs. The rational part of her mind told her she had to go home, that she couldn’t let everyone see her like this. But she was so, so horny. She opened the door and went inside, Morgan following along behind with a Cheshire cat grin on her face.

It didn’t take long to find her friends. The popular clique, and all their hangers-on. “Eden!” Becca squealed tipsily, a brightly coloured cocktail in her hand. People were dancing and drinking all around them. “Glad you could make it, girl! I… What are you wearing?”

“I… I… I’m wearing my nappy!” Eden blurted out loudly. Her face was crimson. She could see dozens of people look at her, some whispering to each other, others smirking, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop now. She grabbed the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down over her bottom, fully exposing her soggy diaper to everyone in the room. “I’m too dumb for the potty!”

A lot of people burst into uncontrollable laughter, while others simply stared dumbfounded at her, one of the hottest girls on campus, as she made a totally ridiculous spectacle of herself. But if there was any doubt in anyone’s mind that this was just some kind of weird joke, Eden removed it. She knew what she had to do.

While Morgan watched with delight from the background, Eden bent her knees, screwed up her pretty face, and started grunting and straining as hard as she could to push a messy load into her nappy. “Uh-oh!” she sang between her grunts. “I doing a poo-poo!”

Everyone was laughing now. Even Eden’s so-called friends couldn’t stop themselves shrieking with mirth as the gorgeous college student pooped her pants like a two-year-old in front of them. They laughed about it for the rest of the party, as they would for weeks and months and years afterwards, while Eden was left to toddle home, tears of shame pouring down her face, her reputation ruined forever, with one hand shoved firmly down the front of her nappy all the way.

[nikkeisimmer]

Excerpt of Chapter One

“I worry about you, hanging around with Haruo, so much.” Fiona ventured. Why couldn’t River date a nice boy like Michael Bachelor? Who as far as Fiona knew had no hang-ups of any sort. She could see River close up - it was always like this when it came down to anything to do with Haruo and a serious discussion about River potentially dating other boys. Fiona could tell that River was protective of her long-time friend and didn't want to even consider the fact that her mother might have a valid point and a legitimate concern.

Fiona sighed as River tried to twist her lips into a semblance of a smirk. “Mo-om…” she stopped short of rolling her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s not like he’s going to go off like a nuclear bomb.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. Fiona did not give voice to her thought. She didn’t want to get into a rousing argument with her within earshot of that harpy across the street.

Maegyn on the other hand was trying to ignore the conversation whilst trying to concentrate on a TV that looked as though its picture tube was about to blow out. Finally she growled acidly, “Really? We need to replace this piece of junk TV. I can’t even watch Days without the TV losing focus and going into static. I wanna see if Jack is really a Devereaux or not…”

River snapped, rolling her eyes, "For heaven sakes, Maegyn, that stuff is going to rot your brains!" she turned to her mother and said, “I’m going out. I’m going to go see if I can track down Haruo. I’ll try to be back before dinnertime.”

“OK…just don’t walk into any alleys.”

“I won’t, Mom.”

--------------------------------------------------------

“Hey…”

Haruo looked over at her for a long moment. “Hey…” he responded, but his voice was sombre and his smile didn’t reach his eyes..

“I was looking for you.” She said, “You’ve been out here for quite a while.” River looked up at her friend.

“I’m not going to live my life for her. If she’d wanted to do the stuff she wants me to do now, she should have done it for herself.” Haruo’s tone was clipped and cold. “What she’s asking me to do is to subvert my life in favour of doing everything that she wants and that’s not going to happen.”

“So what are you going to do. You stay under her roof and the only thing she’s going to do is continue pushing you under her thumb.” River looked at him.

“Well...something tells me I made my final choice.” his eyes narrowed and he glowered. “I told her this morning that I don’t give a flying fuck what she wants and that her desires could go hang for all I care.”

Well...that was snapping the chain. River thought to herself as her eyes met his.And that probably explains Mayumi’s attitude too. “So you think that she nor your dad will want you back under their roof tonight.” she paused for a long moment, alarm spreading over her features, “What are you going to do?”

His attitude was nonchalant. “I guess I’m sleeping outdoors tonight then. I’ve got to do what I have to in order to get food. Then I guess I’m technically homeless.” He straightened his shoulders. “I’m not going to apologize to my mother. She’s had it coming for years now. I’m done with her.” All he had was his pride left. He wasn’t going to go groveling back to his mother for a roof over his head. He was fed up, sick and tired of her bullshit.

River was impulsive. “I want to be with you. Haruo!” she said as she threw herself into his arms – she loved him deeply and wanted to be with him throughout the most trying part of his life.

“No...River. You can’t.” Haruo shook his head. This was not going to happen to her, “This is going to be a hard life. You have an year of school left, you need to finish that and it’s going to be hard to go to school with us being homeless. I’m done school and I can manage. I can rummage out of dumpsters...and collect stuff that other people have thrown out to try and get a little bit of money coming in. I’m in good enough health that I can manage. You’re still a teen and need to be doing teen things.” Haruo objected emphatically. “Finish your schooling, get your diploma. If anything, I’ve got mine since I graduated before this shit went down.”

“but…”

“But nothing...River.” Haruo snapped, “Being homeless, no matter how much you may miss me is no picnic. Do you want to tolerate living out of a dumpster, maybe going to bed hungry, picking hard ground to sleep on and hoping that you don’t get robbed or even worse? You are a teenager. You need to be at home with your mother and sister.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m an adult and the world doesn’t help adults who don’t deal with things themselves. You on the other hand are protected by law. And you need to be protected by law. You don’t need to be eaten up by the world, ground up and spit out.” Haruo sighed deeply. “Don’t plead and beg me because I’m so damned close to breaking...and saying yes, you can stay with me.”

“Why not!?” River growled.

“Because...I wouldn’t be the responsible adult if I did.”

“Oh...shut the hell up!” River snapped… “It's not like you're twenty years older than I am, only an year older.”

“...and by law, I’m an adult...and have to act like one.” Haruo growled.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where volunteering sucks. And freshmen are just as bad for your health as energy drinks.

Or the seventeenth installment of the SKZ!pack prequel series.

Tags: Skz, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, SKZ!pack, SKZ!abo, Poly!skz, omegaverse, pack!prequel, skz!Pack prequel series, new, update, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n, fluff, skz fluff

Genre: Fluff

Title: Orientation

“I can’t believe you let hyung talk you into volunteering. Let alone a whole day of giving tours to baby freshmen who have proven to be no smarter than a box of rocks and just as annoying.” Hyunjin scoffs as he catches sight of you, tugging on your ‘Department of Sciences’ hoodie. 

Jisung makes a noise of annoyance in his throat, a nonverbal beratement at Hyunjin to stop moving around so goddamn much, and paints another coat of nail polish across the omega’s nail, his tongue stuck between his lips in concentration. 

You sigh and roll your eyes. “You get a class credit for doing it. It’s an easy A.” 

Hyunjin snorts, but stays still this time, giving you an unconvinced stare from the kitchen table. “Still can’t believe it.” 

“And I still can’t believe that you all took bets on my kinks.” Chan enters the kitchen now on the tail end of the conversation, straightening his unruly curls with his fingers, already sporting his navy ‘Department of Music’ sweatshirt. He gives Hyunjin a sharp stare, only given away by the slightly amused twitch to his lips. “So I guess we’re even.” 

Minho appears in the doorway, looking entirely too sleep rumpled for almost eleven in the morning, and scowls at all of you. 

“What the hell are you all doing in my kitchen?” 

“Hanging out.” Hyunjin offers unhelpfully, as Jisung finishes one of his hands with a flourish and an admonishment to blow carefully on the wet nails. 

“I think the freshmen are cute.” Felix chimes in, sliding into the seat next to Hyunjin and resting his head lightly on the other omega’s shoulder. “They’re precious, all wide eyed and innocent and excited for a new year.” 

Minho looks downright exasperated now. 

“Oh my god, is literally everyone here?” 

Jisung scoffs. “You would. Leave it to Sunshine Angel Baby Felix to think the newest wave of fresh meat is ‘adorable.’” 

“I hate the freshmen.” Changbin grunts, sliding carefully past Minho in the doorway, headed straight for the fridge, as he tugs open the door and reaches inside to pull out a bottle of orange juice. “They come into the studio spaces and fuck all the equipment up.” 

He lifts the juice to his lips in an annoyed sort of motion and takes a swig right from the jug. 

“Seo Changbin, I know you did not just drink straight out of my carton like some sort of bumbling, disgusting, uncivilized neanderthal.” 

Changbin looks suitably apologetic as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Sorry, hyung.” 

“The actual worst thing about freshmen though, is that they don’t know how to keep their stupid hands or thoughts to themselves.” Hyunjin continues with barely concealed annoyance, as Seungmin skirts around the still lurking Minho and tosses Changbin a cup from the cabinet with remarkable ease. 

Minho sighs and scrubs down his face with his hand as if he’s about to commit murder, before he turns and disappears back down the hallway to his room without a word. 

A moment later, a door slams shut.

“Yeah.” Jisung agrees with a vicious nod, digging around in Minho’s pantry and emerging victoriously with a bag of chips in his fisted grip, which he uses to point sternly in Hyunjin’s direction, then your own. “Noona is hella hot-goddamn fine even-and those little cretins are gonna be hitting on her alllllll day.” 

Beside you, Chan makes a sound of betrayal in his throat. 

“What am I, chopped liver?” 

You grin and turn to the put-out alpha standing beside you, patting his cheek a few times, none too gently, with the open palm of your hand. 

“You’re very pretty, Christopher. Now c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” 

********

You pop open a much needed can of Monster on your walk across campus, and Chan immediately gives you a judgmental side eye as you lift the energy drink to your lips. 

“Energy drinks are bad for you, you know.” 

You take a long sip, and stare him down boldly. “Funny, cause you know what else is bad for me? Children. And we’re about to spend the whole day with a fuck ton of them.” 

Chan considers you for a moment, dark eyes thoughtful, and then reaches for the can, fingers curling around your own as he steals it and raises it to his own lips for a quick swig. 

“Touche.” 

You walk in silence for several moments, gravel crunching beneath your feet, and then Chan says, glancing sidelong at you once more, “You look cute, you know? In your department sweatshirt.” 

You roll your eyes and hide the smile that’s threatening behind your teeth. 

Instead, you turn to him and raise a brow, keeping your expression serious. 

“I’d look cuter if it were off of me though.” 

Chan chokes on the sip of energy drink he has just stolen, and you laugh as he hands you back the can once more, coughing, desperately trying to scrub off the spilled stain that now marks the front of his hoodie. 

“Shit.” 

You pull him to a stop, turning him to face you as you knock his fumbling hands out of the way and pat at the spilled energy drink with a napkin from the recesses of your backpack. 

You’re aware he’s watching you, but you purposefully keep your gaze downturned, focusing more than is necessary on wiping away the stain from the navy material. 

You finally chance a glance up at him through your lashes. 

“You’re just too easy, baby. I had to.” You give a little laugh and a shrug as you finally release your hold on him, but don’t step away. “Sorry.” 

Something flickers across his gaze at your words, but you don’t catch what it is before it disappears, and then he says quietly, “Say that again.” 

You tilt your head and stare up at him, confused. 

“What? Sorry?” 

He shakes his own head, curls falling into his eyes, and there is a thin ring of gold around his pupils now, bleeding into the caramel of his irises. 

“No. What you called me.” 

Understanding dawns on you, and you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden heavy scent of rain in the surrounding air. 

“What, baby?” 

Chan hums, a contented sort of rumble in his chest, and your wolf practically salivates at the way his pupils dilate in response to your voice, and that word. 

“Interesting.” You muse, smirking now. 

You take a step closer to him. 

Chan lets out a long, controlled breath between barely parted lips, and shakes his head, and when he looks at you again, there’s no sign of the gold, of the alpha, that plagued his eyes, only moments before. 

He offers you the hint of a sheepish smile as you feel your own wolf retreat a bit. 

“Sorry. It’s been awhile.” 

You study him for another long moment, and then put some space in between you once more.

“Changbin calls you ‘babe’ at the studio all the time. He told me.” 

Chan grimaces as you both continue to walk once more.

“Yeah, but that’s not the same, that’s just in joking. Bros being bros.” 

“Is it?” You query, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, and you see realization begin to cross his face. 

“Isn’t it?” He repeats back slightly under his breath, brow furrowed. 

You groan and roll your eyes, hurrying your steps so he has to catch up to you, still looking deep in thought. 

“God, the music department is so gay.” 

********

“Okay, any questions?” You clap your hands to get the chattering group of freshmen’s attention, as Chan does his best to round them up into one space outside the campus cafeteria. 

One of the girls-Rheena? Raina?-raises her hand.

You point to her. 

“Yeah.” 

She glances at Chan like he’s put the stars in the sky, her pale pink lips slightly agape as she ogles. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” 

Chan looks caught off guard, glancing at you with a hooded expression, one brow raised.

You sigh. “Yes.” You glance around the group, ignoring the crestfallen look on the omega girl’s face. “Any other questions?” 

Another freshman raises their hand, this time, a boy. 

You don’t like the cocky look in his eye. 

“How’d you manage to bag another alpha? Isn’t that like, weird or something?” 

You sigh again, longer this time, and mutter beneath your breath, “I meant questions about the tour, god.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stare down the smirking little shit-newly alpha-as you say tightly, “It’s not weird. Perfectly acceptable actually.” 

The boy looks like he’s about to say something else, but luckily, Chan jumps in before he can speak again. 

“Okay!” He claps his hands loudly and grins at the freshman. “Lunch time! You can enter the cafeteria through the doors behind you, use the cards we showed you to pay for your meal plan, and then find somewhere to sit.” He glances down at the watch he wears and then back to the group of kids before you. “You’ve got an hour and a half, and then we need to meet back here for the final leg of the tour, okay? Everybody got that?” 

There are several nods and murmurs of agreement, and then the group of freshmen disperse and disappear into the swinging doors that lead to the cafeteria. 

You blow out the annoyed breath you’ve been holding and subtly flip little alpha man off behind his back as he leaves your sight. 

Beside you, Chan chuckles. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t like kids.” You scoff and shoot him a glare. “It’s not that I don’t like kids, okay? I just don’t like that kid.” 

Chan grins, all flashing pointed teeth, and hands you your sack lunch as you both settle onto the cement stairs behind you, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches you dig around for your sandwich. 

“Fair. But you also have to remember-” He takes a bite of his own sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “-it sucks to present. He’s probably dealing with a whole slew of hormones from his alpha that he didn’t even have to think about before.” 

You chew sullenly, unwilling to give Chan the point he deserves. 

He takes a sip from his coke and glances at you sidelong, waiting. 

You sigh and crush your own now empty can between your fingers. 

“Fine. I’ll try to give him the benefit of the doubt.” 

Chan grins, tossing his eaten lunch into the nearest trash can, before he leans over and pats your head in an altogether annoying way, which is why it catches you off guard completely when he murmurs in your ear, breath warm on your skin, voice dipping into deep alpha timber. 

“Good girl.” 

You swallow your bite of sandwich, now dry in your mouth, and try not to think about earlier, when he had asked you to repeat what you had said, in that same lilting, deep, commanding tone. 

Say that again. 

You repress a shudder and throw your own half eaten lunch into the same trash can. 

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite nerds.” 

A familiar voice breaks through the tension of the moment, followed by a snap of Autumn in the air, and you both glance up as San, grinning ear to ear, comes into view around the corner of the cafeteria. 

You immediately groan even as Chan stands to give the incoming beta a high five. 

San’s face doesn’t lose its grin as they both settle back down beside you, the beta throwing his arms around the two of you and pulling you close. 

“Sup, alphas?” 

You roll your eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you’re here? Although-” You glance to where he appeared, half expecting to see Wooyoung rounding the corner at any moment. “-where’s your better half? I’d think your ugly mug would scare the children if he’s not around.” 

You offer him a sweetly innocent smile. 

San scoffs. “Please. I’m hot as fuck and you know it.” 

A crisp, cold wave of early Autumn washes over you at his words, and you make a show of pinching your nose. 

“Seriously, Sannie, did he forget your leash? There’s no other way he’d let you wander around on your own.” 

“For your information, I hold his leash, so jot that down-” San leans into you and runs his cold nose along your throat, even as you shove him away from you. He gives you a grin so wide his eyes disappear into crescents. “-and second, he’s rounding up our kids for the second half of the tour.” 

“You let him do that on his own?” Chan asks with slight amusement, glancing down at his watch, even as he stands and stretches. 

“Of course.” San shrugs, dark eyes gleaming now, as he smirks wickedly. “I wanted him to know what the rest of us have to deal with on a daily basis, living with him.” 

“Cruel.” You remark, but there’s respect in your tone, and he knows it. 

“Cruel, but just.” He gives you a wink, and you grin. 

San stands, towering next to Chan, and stretches his own arms above his head, his maroon ‘Department of Dance’ sweatshirt riding up to reveal a tan swath of skin, and the beginning lines of the dark ink of his matching tattoo that he shares with his moonmate, sketched across his hip. 

You stand as well, gathering up the last of your trash, and San gives you a questioning look. 

“Where’s Minnie? Couldn’t convince him to come this year?” 

You snort beneath your breath. “Lee Minho would rather pull out his own teeth than have to deal with freshmen-and you-all day.” 

San makes a wounded face, always dramatic, as you all begin walking toward the cafeteria and the bustling groups of freshmen. 

“Damn. Harsh.” He grins roguishly. “I was really looking forward to us wearing matching couple’s hoodies.” 

“Pretty sure Minho burned that sweatshirt the first week of school. Something about ‘lack of school spirit and maroon isn’t his color.’” Chan remarks dryly from San’s other side, and the beta mocks a pout. 

“He would.” 

San glances over your head and waves wildly to someone, and you follow his gaze, finding a harried looking Wooyoung standing with a large group of gathered freshmen, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at the beta beside you. 

San whistles beneath his breath. “He looks mad.” 

You nod in agreement. “You’re gonna die.” 

Chan claps the beta on the back. “Hell of a way to go, man.” 

San sighs, and then he perks up again, whirling to face the two of you even as he walks away, walking backward and somehow narrowly avoiding every freshman in his path. 

He points to the two of you. “Oh, hey! We’ve got a freshie in our group that doesn’t belong. Not interested in Dance or anything down that alley whatsoever, but he’s still undecided major wise. Care if I send the little dude to you for the second half? Maybe he’ll dig science or music.” 

Beside you, Chan shrugs. 

“Sure. Send him over.” 

San gives you an enthusiastic double thumbs up, and turns to run in the direction of the still waiting Wooyoung. 

“Think they’ll accept a trade?” You remark sarcastically beneath your breath, as your own group comes into view, cocky little alpha shit right up front and center, your gaze immediately falling to him. 

Chan nudges you warningly in the side, and you bite back a smirk. 

He’s addressing the group of waiting freshmen, when San saunters over with the newest member of your entourage, pulling him up beside you quietly as Chan continues to go over the itinerary for the rest of the day. 

You glance over your shoulder at the beta, and unwittingly, your gaze falls to the boy beside him. 

He’s small, dark red hair falling over the tips of his ears, pointed features pretty and delicate, fox-like, the way he holds himself reminding you a little bit of Felix, unsure and hesitant. 

San is saying something to you, but you’re not registering, because something deep inside-your wolf-is keeping your gaze pinned on the mysterious freshman at his side. 

And then, it hits you. 

He doesn’t smell. He doesn’t have a scent. 

Whereas the rest of the incoming students haven’t quite learned how to control their pheromones yet, their scents strong in your nose, telling you exactly where they fall in the subgender way of things, the boy in front of you smells like nothing-nothing except laundry detergent and maybe a little bit of sweat from the high overhead sun. 

He’s unpresented? Is that even still a thing? 

Curiosity instantly rears its head, and your wolf simultaneously urges you forward without a second thought. 

You hold out your hand, and San stops talking, looking at you curiously. 

“(Y/N).” Your fingers don’t waver, as you watch the boy glance to you in slight surprise, and then down to your still outstretched hand. “And you are?” 

After another brief moment of hesitation, he places his palm in yours. 

“Yang Jeongin.”

San chuckles, giving you a knowing look, which you dutifully ignore, and claps the new student on the back once more. 

“Well, you’re in good hands, Jeongin. I’m gonna get going.” 

And then he’s gone, with one last pointed look in your direction. 

It’s then that you realize your fingers are still interlaced with Jeongin’s, and you pull back abruptly, clearing your throat, even as Chan finally finishes his long winded speech to the other freshmen. 

“Well, Jeongin.” You motion with your head to the group behind you. “Hopefully you think Music and Science are a bit more interesting than whatever those two goons had going on in your old group.” 

Jeongin stares at you for a moment, and then he smiles, and something within you loses breath at the sight, his sharp teeth flashing, eyes disappearing into crescent moons within his cheeks. 

“I’m sure I’ll fit in just fine.” 

You swallow hard, and pull your gaze away from his own, glancing at Chan now, who is staring at the two of you quizzically, one eyebrow raised in silent question. 

You shrug in the other alpha’s direction, and then turn back to Jeongin with a nod. 

“I’m sure you will, Yang Jeongin. I have no doubt about that.”

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

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[ladylooch]

You said it yesterday and the thought has been in my head I need a blurb of timo wrapping Emma up with a heated towel that was in the towel Warmer bc they were just out of the shower bc she was so cold from the stadium series and then you also said he rubbed her down with belly oil and lotion bc she was pregnant that imagine is living rent free in my head😭😭 so sweet

Can be fluffy, smutty, or BOTH 😉😉

Warm water dashes down Emma’s body as Timo does the final scrub of her body, focusing on her back, being generous with sudsing her butt. White foam falls down from her cheeks, collecting underneath her feet and making the shower floor slippery. She clutches Timo’s big shoulders for balance. He plumps his lips across her collar bone until he gets to her throat. He nibbles over the sensitive skin then teases his facial hair over the slight red mark. She chuckles, opening her eyes to look at him. He captures her lips.

“We are warm now.” Emma murmurs.

“Good.” He says, then reaches around her to turn the water off. Timo steps out, grabbing the new, fluffy towel for her to step into that he placed in the towel warmer before they got in. He holds it out the length of his arm span. Emma steps into his arms, letting him get every drop of water off her body. He hands her the towel afterwards so she can dry her hair. In the meantime, he dries off too. 

“Do you want your robe?” Timo asks, seeing her give a little shiver.

“Yeah.” He holds it open so she can slide into the thick, plush fabric. “Thank you, babe.” 

Post-shower care is done by each individual. Timo sits on the counter, watching Emma do all of her creams, patiently waiting for her to go to bed with him. Emma keeps bringing a hand down to her bump, scratching around her belly button.

“I think I’m getting a stretch mark.” She frowns at Timo in the mirror. 

“No.” He pouts at her. “We are lubing you up all the time?” Emma giggles.

“I guess we need more lube.” She smooths out the last dot of moisturizer on her forehead. 

Together, they move into the bedroom. Timo grabs the Honest bump cream they have been using on Emma’s belly. He puts two finger in, grabbing a thick blob of it as Emma get settled on her back, propped up by a few pillows. They are quiet, both watching Timo’s fingers meticulously stroke over her expanding skin.

“I think I felt him move the other day.” Emma announces quietly. Timo’s blue eyes look up into her face. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, when you were in Nashville.” 

“What did it feel like?”

“Um, like I was digesting food but lower?” She laughs, making her belly shake beneath his hands. “I haven’t felt it since though, so maybe not.” She murmurs, watching his strokes continue. He grabs another scoop full of cream, this time focusing on her sides. His thick eyebrows are furrowed together in concentration. This is a job he takes very seriously, every night. “I can’t wait until we feel him all the time. Remind me I said that when I can’t sleep.” Timo chuckles, then looks over his work. He nods, happy with the amount of coverage she has.

“That feel good?”

“Amazing.” Emma confirms. 

“Do you need anything?” He calls over his shoulder as he goes to put the cream back in the bathroom. 

“Water, please.” She replies back. He returns with her light pink, Stanley cup packed with fresh water and ice. He leans down, a hand on her belly, and the other cupping the back of her neck over her drying hair. 

“I love you.” He murmurs, then kisses her. Emma’s chest expands with love at the same time she feels that little flutter again. She gasps.

“I felt it again.” She grins wildly at Timo, who can’t help but laugh at her expression. He squeezes her face over both her dimples, then rounds the bed. He picks up her new pregnancy pillow.

“You don’t need this right? Cause you have me tonight.”

“Ha! Nice try. Put it down.” Emma points a finger at him. Timo groans. 

“I already fucking hate this thing.” He mutters, tossing it to her side. 

“What happened to whatever the baby needs, the baby gets?”

“I said that when I was trying to get lucky.”

“Timo!” Emma laughs loudly, clapping her hands.

“Just being honest.” 

[jerzwriter]

All in the Past 3/3

FINALLY! I've gotten to the ONE scene request that inspired it all. @angelasscribbles asked for this classic scene from Grey's Anatomy for Tobias and Casey. Heaven forbid I should have left it simple lol I decided to make this a follow-up and alternate ending to one of my favorite short, angsty AUs, Unblemished, because we needed more angst. And here, is the conclusion.

Series Summary: Tobias & Casey were friends turned lovers whose different dreams led them to become friends once again. Two years after their painful breakup, Casey has moved on. Tobias is in town to attend his friend and one-time love's wedding with his new girlfriend on his arm. It's just the wedding of an old friend, or is it?

Part 3 Summary: Casey and Tobias's talk in the wee hours on the morning of her wedding has rippling effects on the couple and their partners. Where do they end up?

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Characters/Pairings: Casey MacTavish (F!MC) x M!OC, Tobias Carrick x F!OC, Sienna Trinh

Rating: Teen

Words: 3,100

Series Masterlist

Tobias x Casey Masterlist | OH Masterlist | Full Masterlist

“Hello, Tobias...” Casey whispered. “I’m glad I found you.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, attempting to make out the time on his watch through bleary eyes. But Casey shook her head in disapproval.

“The time is irrelevant. I’m clearly not going to sleep on the eve of my wedding. Fortunately, I hired one of the best makeup artists around. He’ll know how to make me look awake.”

“Why can’t you sleep?”

Casey motioned toward the bottle of Scotch, and Tobias diligently handed it to her. She took a swig directly from the bottle and plopped down in the chair next to his. 

“Nerves? Overstimulation? Too many relatives, not enough friends? Realizing what I’m about to do?”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“I’m having thoughts,” she chuckled. “I don’t know if they’re of the second variety.”

She turned to Tobias, the way the moonlight illuminated his features took her back to another time. It felt so close she thought she could touch it.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? You and me standing here... on my wedding day?”

“Yeah, funny,” he sighed. “Then again, it makes sense. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“We sure have,” she smiled. “Tobias,” she asked tentatively, “are you happy?”

“What?”

“Someone asked me if I was happy earlier, and now... I’m asking you.”

“Case, you’re the one getting married in fifteen hours. Shouldn’t we be concentrating on you?”

“I’m trying to distract myself, Carrick,” she smiled. “Can you humor me?”

Tobias couldn’t contain a grin. Did she think he had the strength to deny her anything when she smiled at him like that? Even so, he struggled to offer an answer.

“Define happy?” He shrugged, taking another long sip. 

“You know what happy is. I’ve seen you happy.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was too stupid to realize what happiness was until it was too late.”

“Is it ever too late?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Sometimes it is.”

Casey gazed at the stars, crickets chirping in the distance, the only sound between them. There was so much she wanted to say, yet nothing felt right. But Tobias was right; eventually, it would be too late, and she couldn’t pass up this chance.

“You’ve had three girlfriends since we broke up. Imani, Mandy, and now Meghan. Right?”

“Yeah?” He asked with a raised brow.

“I was your friend before... so I know. You never had girlfriends before me. There were plenty of... women... but they never rose to that level. I guess I stupidly assumed you’d go back to that after we broke up. I naively let myself believe I was so special that no one else could ever take that place in your life.”

Her face crumpled in embarrassment, and she lowered her face into her hands to hide.  

“I sound so fucking full of myself,” she groaned. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I didn’t take it that way,” he assured her, gently removing her hands from her face. The tenderness of his touch bringing a warmth she hadn’t felt in some time. “You were special, Casey. You are special. I didn’t think I’d ever play the relationship game again, either. But... I guess you showed me there’s something to it after all. Maybe it’s not such a bad place to be.”

Casey barked a bitter laugh.

“Well, isn’t that delightful!” She snapped. “How nice of me to teach you! Isn’t it something... you want that life now... after you broke my heart because you said it was something you couldn’t offer.”

“That’s not fair! I never said I didn’t want to be with you! We talked for months and came to a painful decision together. You know I was fine with a relationship; we split because you wanted marriage and children, and I didn’t. And it worked out, right? You’re getting what you wanted?”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Why am I here? For your big, beautiful wedding... you’ve got the white gown, the string quartet, the miracle worker cosmetician... wasn’t that the dream?”

“That’s what you thought I wanted? Some stupid wedding. This is my mother’s fantasy, not mine! And it wasn’t when I was with you. I wanted to know that the person I loved more than anything would consider marrying me. It was never about some stupid wedding. Not then, and not now!”

“Well,” he smiled. “I think it’s too late for you to elope now.”

She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to tell him off. But once again, he only made her smile.  

“I’ll say,” she chuckled.

“You know, you mentioned the girlfriends I’ve had since... us... Maybe I should mention your sole boyfriend.”

“Craig? What about him?

Tobias rubbed his hand over his head, taking a moment to compose himself.

“The night you called to tell me about him, I was devastated. I was convinced that I never really mattered to you... not if I was replaced so easily.”

“Tobias,” she gasped. “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that at all! You don’t know where I was. Remember I said this place would never be home? Well, I was right. I was here with no friends or family... heartbroken over losing you! I never felt so alone. I was... broken. Everyone told me to get out there, make new friends, date other people... it was the only way to heal. But for all the talk of southern hospitality, I didn’t find it here. Then, I met this new surgeon. He was kind, funny... and he was crazy about me. For the first time in so long, I didn’t feel alone anymore. He never wavered in his feelings for me and was so confident about what he wanted... a future... with me in it. And that was so refreshing after...”

“After me....” Tobias mumbled.

“Yeah. After you,” Casey asserted. “We had this amazing love, Tobias. I never thought something so precious could end... it meant everything to me. So, when you told me it wasn’t enough....”

“Hey!” He shot back. “I never said it wasn’t enough! I never said I didn’t want forever with you. I just...”

“... didn’t want in it enough to sign on the dotted line.”

“And now you have someone who will. You can say whatever you want, but never say you weren’t everything to me. No one ever has, and no one ever will come close to being what you were to me. Now, I just have to learn to live with the regret of letting you go.”

“What?” she gasped. “What are you saying?”  

“I’m saying letting you out of my life was a mistake. The biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

“Wha... when did you realize this?”

“From the start, I was just too stupid to admit it. But the night you called me to tell me about Craig... it hit me like a ton of bricks.”

“Then why... why didn’t you say anything?”

“What could I say? You sounded so happy. I had already hurt you enough and had no right to do it again. And I never imagined he’d be the one. So I kept waiting for you to tell me you broke up, then I would have no reason not to tell you...”

“To tell me? Tell me what?”

That I loved you. I never stopped. I couldn’t if I tried... and God knows, I’ve tried. I would have moved heaven and earth for a second chance with you. I needed you as much as I needed the air I breathed, and living without you wasn’t living at all. That you took my heart when I let you go, and without you, I’d never have it back...and I still want you now...   

The words played repeatedly in his mind, but overclouded by one thought, they never made it to his. Today’s her wedding day. He took a deep breath and turned to her with a pained smile.

“Does it matter now? It was a long time ago, and... It’s your wedding day, Casey. I threw away my chance.”

She turned away, surreptitiously wiping a tear from her eye.

“We should have talked more back then. We said so much, yet we said nothing at all.”

“Casey,” he whispered as he held her hand. “You’ve spent two years building a new life with Craig, and you can’t throw that all away. You have brought me more joy than I deserved, and I’m a better man today because of you. I have no doubt that my life is immeasurably richer because you were in it. But,” he lifted her hand and traced her engagement ring with his thumb. “You’re not mine anymore. Craig loves you and will give you the life you want, the one I foolishly didn’t promise. So, when you walk down that aisle today... I need you to know it’s with my blessing... but it won’t be with my presence. You’ve found everything you wanted, and that’s all I’ve wanted for you. But now that you know how I feel... I hope you’ll forgive me, but I can’t watch you pledge your life to someone else.”

Casey dropped his hand, fear growing in her eyes as the meaning of his words dawned on her.

“You’re letting me go,” she sobbed. “You’re really letting me go?”

“You’re marrying Craig. I have to.” 

“But you’ll still be my friend, right?” she whimpered. “You still be my friend... after today?”  

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Case? Or deep down, do you know... maybe we both need to let go... for good. How can we start new lives if we still have one foot in the past.”

“I can’t imagine my life without you in,” she cried.

“You’re going to have a beautiful life, hon,” he whispered. “And one day, I’ll just be a distant memory that makes you smile. Come on,” he said, squeezing her hand. “This is a big day. Concentrate on your happy beginnings... not on what’s already lost.”  

 He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and decided to bargain with God one last time, only to be let down again, for time failed to stand still. Casey stepped back and gazed into his eyes one last time.

“Promise me you won’t forget me?” she said with a quivering voice.

“How could I? You will always be my favorite... what if?”

Casey’s lips parted slightly. There was so much more to say, maybe too much. The weight became overwhelming, and when words couldn’t be found, she turned and rushed away, leaving Tobias standing alone in the moonlight, just as she had in Boston two years before.

~~~~~

The alcohol served some purpose, or maybe it was emotional exhaustion. Either way, Tobias managed to get a few hours of sleep. When the alarm went off much too early, he wondered if it had all been a dream. But it wasn’t, and he knew what he had to do. 

“Hey, Meg,” he said, nudging his companion awake. “Can you get up? We need to talk.”

~~~~~

Casey rolled her eyes as she sat in the makeup chair with rollers piled high on her head.

“Everything OK there,” Sienna smiled as she handed her friend a large cup of coffee.

“Could my mother be any more chipper? I don’t want to be arrested for homicide on my wedding day, but if she comes in here gushing over how beautiful I am when I still look like,” she motioned toward the mirror, "this! I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Sienna placed a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder and gave her a placid smile. She didn’t have to say the words for Casey to hear them.

“I know,” Casey smirked. “You’re thinking an arrest for homicide might not be the worst thing that could happen today.”

“Hey! I promised you one maid of honor-slash-best friend who would stand by your side today, no matter what you decided, and I’m delivering.”

“Even if homicide is on the menu?”

“I’m your ride or die,” Sienna grinned.

“You sure are,” Casey said, squeezing Sienna’s hand.

The room turned quiet as Sienna went to the closet and took out the garment bag containing Casey’s gown. She was about to unzip it when Casey’s words stopped her in her tracks.

“I saw Tobias last night,” she whispered. 

Sienna turned around, her eyes wide. “And?” She asked, rushing to her friend's side.

“Relax,” Casey smiled. “We didn’t sleep together... there’s no chance that I’m having his child or anything.”

“Gee,” Sienna simpered. “That’s a shame. Now, seriously... what happened?”

“He loves me. He never stopped. He said letting me go was the biggest mistake of his life and....”

“And?”

Casey pursed her lips together and fought back a sob. “And he’s skipping the wedding. He said it would be too hard to watch, and he won’t be around anymore. He believes we can’t move on if we don’t really let go, so last night was probably the last time I’ll ever see him.”

“Casey,” Sienna gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK,” She smiled through tears. “He’s not wrong. Being friends was just an excuse to remain in each other's lives. We always wanted more; we just lied to ourselves.”

“Case... now that you know he loves you, and you love him....”

“Si. He made it clear. We’re all in the past now. And, as much as this hurts, it’s probably for the best. I want my marriage to work. So I have to give it my all. I just wish my wedding anniversary and the day I lost the love of my life didn’t have to be the same day.”

“I know you think you’re doing something noble,” Sienna started. “Of course, Craig will be hurt if you call off the wedding, but doesn’t he deserve a wife who's not crying about losing another man on the morning of their wedding day? What I’m saying is... in the long run....”

“I do love Craig,” Casey interrupted. “It’s a different kind of love, but it’s still love, and I know we can build a happy life together. Besides, my parents would kill after all the money they shelled out. So,” she said, looking at her phone. “The makeup guy just texted. Can you let him in the front door? It’s showtime.”

~~~~~

Meghan shot a look at Tobias as she shut her suitcase and zipped it closed. It would be easier to be upset with him if he didn’t look so forlorn.

“I’m really sorry,” he said for the umpteenth time.

“I know,” she half smiled. “Please don’t have to say it again. I meant what I said. I appreciate your honesty and, if I’m being honest... I was thinking of dumping you when we got back to Boston.”

“You were,” he chuckled. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“Nope. The writing was on the wall, Tobias. You’re in love with someone else, and I want someone who can’t imagine thinking of anyone but me.”

Tobias smiled when Megan reached for his hand. “You know you’re too good for me, right?”

“Oh,” she cackled. “You better believe it.”

The front desk called to let her know her taxi was arriving in ten minutes.

“Well, that’s my ride,” she sighed. “You know, at this point, I’d normally say after you do the work and get over her, call me. If I’m still available, maybe I’d give you a chance because you are a really good guy. But I’m not going to say that.”

“You’re not,” He chuckled.

“Nope. Because you’re not going to get over her. When it’s real, it’s real. And the last thing I will say is... she’s not married yet, Tobias.”

“Someone’s going to be lucky to have you.”

“Oh, I know,” she smirked. “I already matched with some guy on Tinder. I think you know him.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Ramsey,” she winked. “I kid, I kid... but maybe not. He’s kind of cute.”

“Get out of here,” Tobias smiled as Meghan shut the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  

~~~~~

The hushed sound of guests’ conversations could be heard over the soft music being played on the piano on the other side of the door. Despite a strong case of nerves, Casey smiled brightly as Sienna fluffed her veil and gave her a final once-over. The bridesmaids had already begun walking down the aisle when Casey’s father walked over and handed his daughter her bridal bouquet.

“Well, this is it, sweetheart,” he beamed.

“This is it!” Casey grinned.

“Last chance,” Sienna smiled ruefully. “Are your head and your heart all in?”

“They’re in,” Casey nodded. “Don’t you know, they always follow each other.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” her father said as he took her arm.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“People always debate what’s stronger, the heart or the mind.  But the heart will always be the victor. The head can talk all it desires, but the heart will want it wants.” He kissed his daughter’s cheek before placing the veil over her face. “Always follow your heart, sweetheart. Trust me.”

Sienna and Casey locked eyes just as the doors opened, announcing the bride's arrival. 

Craig’s eyes were on Casey the instant the door opened, and his look of utter joy left her riddled with guilt. Casey smiled back but quickly turned her head toward her guests, taking in the faces of people who had meant so much to her throughout her life as she approached the altar. Between smiles and nods, her eyes roamed the room fruitlessly.   Selfishly, she hoped Tobias had changed his mind, even if it was only to see him one last time. But as her foot stepped to its final destination, she knew. He stayed true to his word. He wasn’t there, and she couldn’t blame him. The officiant began.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.....”

The words began to blur together, and the room felt warmer.  Casey swore it had started to spin. While most remained oblivious, the officiant and Craig both took notice.

“Are you OK?” Craig whispered in her ear.

“Yeah, maybe a little dehydrated.”

“We can stop this thing for a pop run if you like,” he smiled, then he turned back to the officiant, but Casey’s eyes remained on him.

She felt nauseous. Sienna was right all along. Craig was a good person, and he deserved a loving, devoted wife... not one who swore she saw another man’s face before her as she stood at the altar. She peered over her shoulder at the congregation to find the smiling faces of their friends and family staring back.  She couldn’t ... she couldn’t do this to Craig... but she didn’t know which option was worse. She swallowed hard, feeling unsteady on her feet.

“Casey and Craig's closest friends and family are here today to bear witness to their union....”

Sienna moved closer and whispered.

“Casey, what do you need?”

“I need... I need...

“Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, please respond, and we will.”

The congregation responded in kind as Casey leaned into Sienna. 

“I don’t know if I can do this?”

“Well, your sucks, but if you’re going to....”

Sienna never finished her sentence because all eyes turned to a booming voice from the back of the room.  Tobias stood in the doorway, the bright sun illuminated behind him.  He looked terrified as he walked down the aisle.  He feared a punch to the teeth from Craig or any of his friends in the room, but that he could handle. His biggest fear was Casey’s reaction, but he had made up his mind... she wasn’t married yet... and this was one regret he wouldn’t be able to live with.

“I love you... Casey. I always have. I love everything about you. Even the things I  don’t like, I love....”

Her jaw fell as she turned to him, trembling, her eyes flickered between Tobias and Craig.

“... and I want you with me. I know I let you go, and I’ve regretted it every day since, so I only had two choices... live with the regret forever... or beg you for another chance before it’s too late. So that’s why I’m here. I love you, Casey, and I think that you love me too... Do you?”

Despite her jagged breathing, she could see Tobias nervously swallow, and while she shook like a leaf, it didn’t prevent her from seeing that he was doing the same.  In utter shock, she nervously searched the room as if an answer would be there.

“Casey?” Craig asked.

Sienna moved closer, her arms just inches away from wrapping around her friend, when Casey’s eyes locked with her father’s. He smiled timidly at his daughter, only wishing he could take her out of this place.  Then he lifted his hands before his chest and bent them to form a perfect heart. Casey gave him a smile, and her choice was made.

~~~~~

Euphoria was the only word that could describe it.  Her fingers slipped into his, intertwined as if they were made for each other.  They held on so tightly it felt like their lives depended on it.  Adrenaline had taken over, and there was no way to contain the utter joy and relief they felt. Tobias turned to Casey, beaming from ear to ear as they continued to race toward his car. He opened the door, and she rushed inside, giddy, lightheaded, and laughing with delight. But by the time he rounded the car and slipped into the driver’s seat, guilt and panic were beginning to seep through.

“Oh, my God...” Casey gasped nervously. “What did we just do?”

“Wait, he asked... are you sure about this?”

She turned to him, and one look in his eyes was all it took for her to understand.  There would be regret over how this came to be, but that regret would pale if they didn’t follow their hearts.  Their hearts knew they had always known; Tobias and Casey were two halves of a whole, never to be complete without each other.

Reaching over, she pulled him into a searing kiss, breaking away only when she realized people might come outside and she needed to be with him alone right now.

"I love you, Tobias," she breathed. "I love you so much."

"God, I love you," he smiled. "I'm going to spend every day for the rest of my life letting you know just how much."

“Good!" She grinned, "But, for now, DRIVE!”

And with a smile she’d remember forever, he happily complied. They could deal with the fallout later. It would be fine. There was nothing they couldn’t handle with each other at their sides. But right now, only one thing that mattered... she was his, and he was hers, and everything was finally the way it was meant to be.

A/N: And that's that! lol Yeah, it totally sucked for Craig, but if it makes you feel better, in the original follow-up to Unblemished, Unforgettable, Casey & Craig end up married for a long time, they had two daughters, and only much later did they realize Craig was always second to Tobias in Casey's heart. Casey didn't even realize it herself. While Craig was rightly hurt, he became pretty nasty to Casey as a result. Tobias & Casey still reunited, but they lost a lot of time. So, while this sucks for Craig, it's OK in the end. (Plus, if you ask me, he was a little TOO into her TOO quick. Some red flags there, folks; this is called rationalization!) Thanks for the prompt request @angelasscribbles, and year. I'm insane! :)

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

@choicesprompts

More tags in reblog.

[digital-corruption]

I am still angry with past me for leaving a large, major gap in story and skipping ahead. Filling the gap has been difficult. I'm not happy with how it turned out, but I need to move on. It's long, however, there wasn't a clear point to cut it in half so enjoy a double length chapter, I guess.

Unrecognisable Part 53

The next morning I woke to the sound of a distressful wail. In one swift movement, I leapt off the couch and ran out of the office. I found Jake pacing rapidly back and forth while clawing at his scalp. His eyes were wide, his face pale, his forehead soaked with sweat while rambling incoherently in German. I ran over and put my arm around Jake to encourage him to take a seat, then grabbed his water bottle and pushed it up against his mouth. At first he ignored the bottle, but he eventually drank from it.

“Did you take the prescription?” I asked as I lowered the bottle.

“Yes,” he sneered.

I rubbed his shoulder gently, “Did you take anything else?”

He hesitated, then looked up at me, “Everything hurt.”

“Jake,” I sighed. “You can’t be mixing drugs with your prescription. We don’t know what it will do to you. Look at you now! Shit, we have to get you to a hospital.”

“No!” Jake shook his head widely. “No hospitals!”

“We don’t know how badly this will affect you!” I exclaimed. “What there is complication!?”

“I will be fine,” he gritted his teeth.

“This is not fine,” I glared.

“Fucking Richy,” Jake spat. “He couldn’t even kill himself right! Should’ve cut himself. More efficient. Less risk of failure. Should let me finish what he fucked up.”

“Jake,” I sighed.

“This- all of this is his fault!” he snapped.

“And he’s currently paying for that,” I reminded him. “Cursing him isn’t going to get you out of this.”

Jake was quiet for a moment, “It’s not enough.”

“What’s not enough?” I questioned.

“His punishment. He deserves worse,” Jake’s expression turned dark. “He’s been given an easy out.”

“What, do you want to trade places? Prison isn’t fun and games, Jake. After we saw Richy a couple of weeks ago, I can tell he’s having a hard time coping in there. And now we know he’ll be in there for the rest of his sentence,” I argued. “We just need to be patient until we find the right prescription for you.”

“I am being patient!” he snapped.

“Patient means not taking illegal drugs,” I narrowed my eyes.

 “I can’t- I can’t live with the pain,” he sneered.

“So we ask Dr. Cumming what pain medication won’t mess with your prescription,” I said firmly.

“Fine,” Jake turned away.

“How are you feeling now though?” I asked concerned.

Jake tilted his head to the side, “Passable.”

I glanced around the room. It was clear that Jake had been working all morning at his desk, but I saw no evidence of food. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbled.

I lowered my shoulders in disappointment, “Have you been up all night?”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“So, it’s been over 12 hours. You had your prescription and drugs on an empty stomach with no sleep?” I frowned.

“The prescription was meant to help me sleep. It did nothing,” he clarified.

I rolled my eyes, “And your excuse for not eating?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” he insisted. “I’m still not.”

“Uh-huh,” I stood up straight again and offered my hand to Jake. “Let’s go downstairs and eat together, ok?”

“I’m not hungry,” he reiterated.

“Yes, you are, you just don’t realise it,” I pushed. “At least do me the favour of keeping me company while I eat?”

Together we went downstairs and I served us two bowls of muesli. While I ate, Jake spent most of the time pushing the grains around his bowl, not raising the spoon to his mouth once. Aside from force feeding him, there was nothing else I could do. If he didn’t want to eat, then he wasn’t going to eat.

The next few hours Jake worked intensely at his desk recovering the back-ups of our old phones from his secure cloud storage and uploaded them to our new devices. I watched him while he worked as it was clear something was wrong. He lacked focus and concentration, got frustrated at little things, and was incredibly twitchy as he worked. Dare I even say it took him longer than usual to complete his tasks? The prescription was definitely not agreeing with him.

After a few hours he presented me with my phone nervously while avoiding eye contact with me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he lied and shook his head. “I thought you would be happy to have your phone restored.”

“Jake, I can only be happy when you’re happy and I can tell something is wrong,” I pointed out.

Jake closed his eyes and sighed, “It took me twice as long as it should have.”

“I noticed you were having trouble concentrating,” I nodded.

Jake sneered, “That might be ok for you, but I can’t- I can’t afford to be slow! I can’t risk mistakes or delays in my mental processing! It could mean life or death!”

“Did you just call me slow?” I raised my eyebrow.

“MC, the difference between us is as wide as the ocean,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s not what’s important here! I can feel it! I can feel it making me dumber!”

“It’s not actually making you dumber. You’re just having trouble focusing. That might be because you’re low on blood sugar from, you know, fasting,” I tried to assure him. “Tonight we’ll see Dr. Cumming and we’ll ask to try something else. Clearly this compound is not working for you.”

Jake rubbed his face with both hands in frustration, “What if the next prescription is worse?  I can’t suffer another day of this! I’m not a fucking lab rat! We can’t afford me to be impaired this severely!”

“Jake, it hasn’t even been one day. You have to give Dr. Cumming a chance to figure out what works for you,” I argued.

Jake mumbled under his breath in German, then walked off to his desk and slumped back into his chair. He pulled out his earphones and shoved them in his ears. As good as they were, I could still hear heavy metal music as clear as day, which meant he had the volume far too high.

I was not looking forward to taking him as he was to see Dr. Cumming. As if the good doctor needed more of an excuse to institutionalise him. Of course I knew his arguments were sound, but my mind just kept coming up with a hundred different ways the agents could infiltrate the facility and silence Jake permanently. Pseudonym or not, it would only be a matter of time before they found him. Dr. Cumming and his staff had no idea what they were dealing with. How could I possibly trust them with protecting Jake?

I picked up my new phone and unlocked it. Sure enough, my old home screen was restored along with my contact list. I quickly scrolled through it and noticed that Jake had added Dr. Cumming himself. Despite everything, he still wanted to make sure I could contact the doctor quickly in an emergency. I closed my eyes, struggling to keep composed. I could feel how panicky he was becoming. I slapped my face and gritted my teeth. I had to keep it together. For Jake.

Glancing at the clock, it wasn’t quite time to leave yet, but I needed a change of pace and scenery.

“Jake, why don’t we get dinner on the way?” I suggested.

He of course couldn’t hear me over the music. I stood up and walked over to his desk. Carefully I leant over and pulled one earphone out, but it still caught him by surprise. He freaked out and jumped.

“What the fuck, MC?” he snapped.

I had to resist the urge to slap him. “I asked you a question.”

“Did you?” he lowered his shoulders and pulled out the other earphone. “Sorry, I didn’t hear.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m surprised you can hear anything with the volume that high.”

“I needed detach,” he admitted.

“It has all been very stressful for the past few days. I think we could both use a change of pace. Why don’t we eat on the way to the doctor’s office tonight rather than eating here?” I repeated.

“What, like at a restaurant?” he questioned.

“Or a café. Or a diner. Hell, we could just grab some food from a truck and eat at a park,” I suggested. “It doesn’t have to be anything sophisticated or fancy. Just, you know, something different. While we’re not actively being chased across the city.”

“We could probably manage eating at a small, lowkey restaurant,” he conceded. “Something that wouldn’t expose us much.”

“Great, I’ll see if I can find one online,” I nodded and stood upright again.

“Actually,” he paused. “I know of one.”

“You do?” I said surprised.

“I remembered the other day that there is an Italian restaurant not far from the station that I ate at once years ago. I remember it was rather private,” he opened his browser and did a quick search on his laptop. “Yes, it’s still there.”

“Sounds great!” I smiled. “If you’re happy eating there, then let’s do it!”

“It’s just food, right?” he asked apprehensively.

“Oh God, it’s not a date, Jake,” I laughed. “Dinner and a therapy session is not date night material.”

“Hmm, ok,” he scratched his head.

“Give me five minutes and we’ll go, ok?” I started backing up towards the stairs.

“Ok,” he replied as he stuck his earphones back in and went back to working on his laptop.

I rushed downstairs to the bathroom and got myself ready to go out. Twenty minutes later I was cleaned up and nearly presentable. Jake however did nothing and yet still somehow looked hot. I silently cursed him for being able to pull off the unkempt look so well.

While Jake walked to the train station as moody and broody as ever, I had to admit I had a slight bounce in my step. It was the first time in a while that we were doing something even remotely fun. And this time I was convinced it couldn’t possibly backfire. ‘Unless the restaurant was actually a Mafia front…’ I thought to myself, then immediately wiped it from my mind. Even if it was, I was just going to close my eyes and pretend I saw nothing.

On the train, Jake watched me with a bewildered look in his eyes. I must have been doing a terrible job at hiding my excitement over what was quite honestly a simple dinner. The ride felt endless though, each stop had me silently cursing the other passengers boarding our train and their inability to get on quickly. I wanted to shout “Hurry up!”, but I bit my lip and fought the urge. As soon as we reached our stop, I pushed my way through the crowd then audibly sighed with relief as my feet touched the platform.

“This is the problem with traveling earlier,” Jake commented. “We put ourselves into the worst of rush hour.”

“No, it’s fine,” I shook my head.

“No one touched you, did they?” he asked me out of concern.

“What? No! Why would you think that?” I frowned.

“You were angry and impatient with the crowd. Like you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get off the train,” he explained. “You would tell me though, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, of course!” I insisted. “No, no one touched me. I’m excited about dinner, I guess.”

“Just for dinner?” he questioned in disbelief.

“I know, it’s crazy!” I laughed. “Well, you know the way, right?”

“Um, yes, we should take the south exit,” Jake gestured to the signs above.

“Ok, lead the way!” I encouraged.

Jake put his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie as he started to walk towards the escalator for the south exit. Somehow that annoyed me and I rushed to his side. Without hesitation I reached my hand into his pocket and slipped my fingers between his. This surprised him and he stiffened briefly, but then relaxed as he kept walking. His fingers melted around mine and actually resisted letting go when we reached the narrow escalator. However, there wasn’t enough space to stand side by side, so he reluctantly released my hand and put his hand on the small of my back to encourage me in front of him. Standing on the escalator, I turned towards him and for the first time in days, I saw warmth in his eyes. I couldn’t resist leaning over and kissing him just as we reached the top.

“What was that for?” he asked as we walked off.

“Nothing, I just felt like it,” I smirked.

Jake took my hand again as he led the way towards the street, “I wasn’t sure I deserved any after earlier.”

“There’s going to be a lot of hard days. That’s to be expected,” I shrugged.

“Still, my behaviour was inappropriate and disrespectful,” he mumbled.

“I’m glad you realise that,” I squeezed his hand as we meandered around people walking in the opposite direction on the footpath.

“I wish…” he hesitated for a moment. “I wish you didn’t have to see me like that.”

“Jake, I still choose to be here with you. As ugly as it gets, I’m not leaving your side,” I assured him.

“And I am grateful you are here. I just don’t want you to be exposed to that is all,” he sighed. “Hmm, oh, there it is.”

Jake gestured a small, little entrance on the side street. I would never have noticed it had he not pointed it out. We approached the front of the warm restaurant and were immediately greeted by a young hostess in German. She led us inside to a private booth, on Jake’s request. The table was positioned rather far in the back of the restaurant, but had good access to the rear exit of the building via the kitchen. If, you know, you were into that kind of a quick exit. Jake took the side that had good line of sight to the entrance while I faced the back of the restaurant. I would’ve preferred he rested, but I knew he preferred to keep watch over everything.

The restaurant itself was warm with that touch of familial Italian heritage that made feel that little more at ease. The walls were covered with photos of the owners and the various patrons they had over the years, some more famous than others.

“Does this satisfy your preferences?” Jake questioned as he lifted his menu.

“Oh, yes, very much,” I beamed and looked down at my menu. “Although trying to decide on what to eat is going to be the greatest challenge yet.”

“If… if you find this enjoyable, we could return,” he mumbled.

I glanced up from my menu and smiled, “Look at us. We’re almost a normal couple. Doing normal couple things.” I paused for a moment, then continued in a hushed voice, “Please tell me you brought cash and aren’t planning on using someone else’s credit card.”

“You do understand the cash isn’t ours either?” he reminded me.

“There’s a difference between a drug dealer and some Joe Schmoe in Atlanta,” I frowned.

“Assuming Joe Schmoe isn’t a criminal either,” Jake diverted his gaze to his menu. “Maybe he’s even worse. Maybe he is a corporate lawyer.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your idea of worse?”

“Hmph, one, society has determined, is legally acceptable to be a douchebag and screw with people’s lives,” he sneered. “They will never face any reprimand for the damage they’ve caused.”

“Ok, fair enough,” I conceded.

There was a calm silence between us as we both examined our dinner choices. I could feel Jake’s occasional gaze on me, but whenever I looked up, he darted his eyes away. After a few minutes our waitress came over to take our orders. As she only spoke German, Jake had to act as an interpreter, but we got there in the end.

When the waitress left, I noticed Jake’s hand resting on the table and I reached over to place mine on top of his. He did a double take as it caught him by surprise. He stared intently at our hands as I gently stroked my fingers over the back of his hand until he suddenly extended his fingers out. I took the hint and intertwined my fingers with his. Our eyes met and I smiled. His eyes were loving, but distant still. He seemed to be lost in thought, but I had no idea where this thoughts were.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

He shook his head, “Nothing.”

“Jake, tell me,” I pushed.

“I was thinking… this is nice,” his eyes pulled away again.

“It is nice,” I nodded. “But you were thinking about something else.”

Jake sighed, “I just wish things could be different. I don’t like how slow it is.”

“Your burns didn’t heal overnight, and neither will your mental health,” I pointed out.

He seethed as if he was holding back on saying something and took a moment to respond, “It’d be nice, to be able to sleep through it though, wouldn’t it? To wake up and be through the worst of it.”

“What, like your induced coma?” I asked, perplexed by what he meant. “No, I’m afraid you have to be awake for your therapy sessions.”

“Yes, I do,” he responded so bizarrely that I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. After a moment, he continued, “I decided I want to make it up to you. For all the shit I put you through for the past couple of days.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” I said inquisitively.

“After tonight’s session, let’s pick up a good wine on the way back,” he proposed.

“Jake, you shouldn’t be drinking,” I frowned.

“I shouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t. Why shouldn’t you be able to let loose for a night?” he argued. “You deserve it.”

“Exactly what did you have in mind?” I mused, leaning forwards across the table.

Jake smirked, “I think you know what I have in mind, but if you don’t, then I prefer you to be surprised.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my seat as I leant back. He still knew exactly how to turn me on with just a few words. The thought of proper stress relief and intimacy was so alluring, how could I possibly say no? Our food was served before I could respond though, which was so good that it became all we talked about.

After we finished eating, Jake paid for our meals, then we walked hand in hand to Dr. Cumming’s office. We were a few minutes later than usual, which seemed to have worried the doctor, but as soon as he saw us enter, he relaxed.

“He’s in a good mood today?” Dr. Cumming asked me as Jake went into the back office.

“Yeah! I mean, he had a rough time this morning and afternoon with the prescription you gave him, but then I suggested we eat out for dinner and he really improved. It was quite remarkable actually,” I boasted.

Dr. Cumming seemed surprised, but nodded and disappeared into his office. Within an hour, they exited again and for the first time, Jake wasn’t in an absolute fury, which really warmed my heart to see.

“Good session today. See you tomorrow, Jake,” Dr. Cumming commented.

“I was thinking, maybe it doesn’t have to be everyday,” Jake suggested. “Especially Friday night, doctor. I’m sure you want to enjoy your weekend.”

Dr. Cumming narrowed his eyes, “Jake, as this is a special arrangement, we agreed that it would be every day.”

“Hmm, right, ok,” Jake conceded and opened the door to the hallway. “Tomorrow then.”

“Good night, Jake, MC,” Dr. Cumming glanced over to me, then at Jake.

“Good night, doctor,” I nodded.

I followed Jake out and walked by his side down the hall. There was something off about his expression that I just couldn’t put my finger on. He held his head higher, he was more confident than usual. I didn’t quite get it, but I was ready to accept any improvement.

At the liquor store, Jake chose a rather expensive bottle of cabernet. I tried to talk him out of such an expensive wine, but he wouldn’t have it. He told me he wanted me to have the best. There just was no convincing of otherwise.

As soon as we got back to our hideout Jake went into the cafeteria to grab a couple of glasses. He had his back to me while he filled the glasses at the kitchenette. One glass he filled with just water, which was for himself. Then he popped open the bottle of wine and poured it into the glass. He swirled the wine in the glass and gave it a quick sniff before he turned and handed me my glass.

“To better days,” he raised his glass in the air.

“That’s something I can agree to,” I clicked my glass against his.

The wine was so smooth that I sipped a quarter of the glass with no effort at all. The taste of alcohol was instantly relaxing. I could already feel the stress leaving my body.

“So does this mean you’re feeling better?”  I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know about better. Clearer maybe?” he clarified. “I no longer feel like I’m in a fog.”

“That’s good at least,” I smiled and took another sip.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned.

“Me?” I did a double take.

“Yes you. Your mental health is just as important,” he frowned.

“Honestly? It’s been hard, Jake,” I admitted and drank more of the wine.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he looked down at the ground.

“Angel?” I said surprised.

“It’s what you are, especially with everything that’s happened,” he glanced back up at me. His eyes were full of love. “I am sorry to put you through this.”

“Jake, if you’re already regaining control than it is 100% worth it!” I insisted.

“You mean it?” he tilted his head.

“I do!” I beamed. Suddenly I was hit with a wave of drowsiness. I looked down at my glass confused, “Did I drink that much?”

Jake took the glass from my hand and placed it down on the table, “It’s been a long day and it’s late, angel. It’s ok to be tired.”

I tried to form words, but it was getting harder and harder to think straight. I stumbled forwards into Jake, who caught me. I remembered looking up at him and seeing his eyes. They were cold and calculating. Everything had gone according to plan.

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

If he closes his eyes

Written for day 25 of the Narcos fandom smut alphabet over on @narcosfandomdiscord

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Words: 442

Pairing: Javier x OFC Aurora

Prompt: yearning

Warnings: masturbation, sexy daydreaming (I guess?)

He did it. He handed in his resignation. Two weeks from now he’ll land back in Florida and meet up with Aurora. Javier pours himself a whiskey, loosens the top two shirt buttons, before slumping onto the couch. He just got off the phone with her. It’s been difficult, separating so soon after they started their relationship. Relationship. He can’t help but chuckle to himself at the thought.

Ever since he left Lorraine, Helena’s been the closest thing to a relationship in his life. God, I’ve got a bad track record, Javier thinks to himself. A couple of weeks ago that one stray thought might’ve been enough to make him turn tail and run. Now, he hangs onto the memory of Aurora. Uses it to ground himself. She’s told him about her apartment in Weston. It’s just 1,5 rooms, a decent kitchen and a newly renovated bathroom. He’s mostly intrigued by the sleeping nook she’s set up for herself. She described it to him during a late night call last week. The bed’s expensive, Aurora spent what Javier considers an obscene amount on it, and he can’t wait to lie down next to her in it. There’s a pleasant warmth building in his crotch. She splurged on new pillows too, having had enough of the shitty government standard ones in Colombia. If he closes his eyes, he can see it. Smell it. Aurora spread out on the bed, him climbing on top of her. Nosing along her honey-and-milk scented neck. Javier reaches down to palm his bulge. The feeling of denim beneath his fingers triggers a memory of peeling her jeans off, fucking her on the couch. Javier gulps down what little is left of the whiskey, unzips his pants and breathes a sigh of relief when his fingers disappear below the waistband of his underwear. If he concentrates he can imagine that it’s her hand forming a fist around his length. Hear her murmur assurances in his ear. He tugs a little faster at his cock, groans into the empty living room. He’d kiss her, steer her hand away from his crotch and guide her onto his lap instead. Javier blindly reaches for a heavy couch pillow, presses it against his legs as if it was Aurora sitting there. His hips begin to buck up from seat, grinding into the pillow as his breathing grows more and more shallow. What does it for him is the memory of her face scrunching together as she cums with him inside her. Javier doubles over, groaning from deep within his chest as the tip of his cock erupts - staining fist, pillow and shirt.