#and i had seen him at partys and get togethers

[adimouze]

post-las vegas WDC max/daniel, rated M. ~1300 words. @girlsdads mentioned something about a lil bit of LL hating in a fic so. I did a lil bit of LL hating too.

-

A face floats into Max’s field of vision probably three hours into the fifth different party Max had been shepherded to since the race ended. He’s about ninety-percent sure he’s still in Las Vegas. He blinks blearily at it, hoping at least it’s pretty enough to look at. It has been a while since. Since.

Liam Lawson blinks back. Not who he was expecting. Gross. 

“Max,” he says, sounding too sober for whatever time it is. The club is loud but Max can still unfortunately hear him. “Are you okay?”

Max attempts a sweeping gesture, he’s carrying a glass of something and it hits someone’s back, making Max drop it with a smash. Liam cringes, looking like he’s about to complain. “This is my party, mate,” Max says, cutting off whatever Liam was going to say. “I’m fucking great.”

“Christian just left,” Liam says, and Max kind of hates how he talks but what can you do. Maybe he just doesn’t like Liam. “I think there’s another party happening a few blocks from now, do you want to join me?”

If Christian left that means Max can leave without theoretically offending anybody, even though it is his party. Half of the people around him don’t seem like people he knows anyway. “Nah man, you go on ahead, I’ll head back to the hotel –”

“Oh then I’ll head back with you,” Liam’s probably the most cheerful he’s been since Max met him. “Yuki scored and left me here.” 

Pity isn’t something Max feels often, but he does feel a bit of pity now. In his first year he was never left alone in clubs, either Carlos or Daniel were always there making sure they were around to get him back to wherever before they took someone home or to their hotel rooms. More often it was Daniel, and more often Daniel didn’t take anyone home, because they were sharing a room and more often it was just fun to watch onboards together, side by side. 

No one else but them. 

Then again, Max was a teenager in his first year and Liam’s twenty-two. He wouldn’t need babysitting. 

“Alright,” Max isn’t sure where he is. He doesn’t know how to ask Liam without sounding like an absolute idiot. 

“I have a car waiting,” Liam adds, after Max stared off into the distance for a few seconds, willing someone to appear with a car. Maybe Max isn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. 

_____

Red Bull and VCARB drivers are often put up in the same hotel, usually the standard room but Helmut had finangled him a penthouse upgrade on Thursday, telling Max that he deserved a proper room to party in, like Max was going to bring home an orgy. 

He’s pretty sure Liam couldn’t possibly have gotten a penthouse upgrade too. He’s sure hotels only have one penthouse? He’s sure. If he was less drunk he would be surer. But Liam makes no move to push any buttons. 

“Mind if I come up for a nightcap?” Liam asks, smiling. This is the most Max has seen him smile ever since he got Daniel…ever since Daniel left and he jumped in the car. Max does not want him to come up for a nightcap but Max is feeling generous tonight. 

“Sure, why not.” Someone had spilled what seems like a bottle of champagne on him at some point in the night and his shirt is sticking to him. He’s too tired to shower. Meh. It’ll be a problem for hungover Max tomorrow. 

The lift goes up insanely fast but still feels too slow for Max tonight. He’s WDC, four times WDC, he’s used to faster things, sue him. Liam is still staring at him. 

“Good driving tonight,” Max says, for want of anything better to do or say. He has no idea where Liam finished to be honest. 

“I finished 16,” Liam says flatly. Yikes. Well. 

The door dings open onto Max’s floor. And. 

Daniel’s sitting on the giant sectional of the penthouse living room. 

He looks gorgeous. Max wants to stare forever. He looks broad and good and tanned, his beard has filled in a lot more than when Max last saw him in Monaco, his hair thicker. The sweatshirt he’s wearing looks less oversized than usual, fitting his shoulders instead of drooping over them, and his trousers make his thighs look great. 

He’s smirking. He looks like a frat guy. He looks like one of those men from Victoria’s magazines that Max definitely didn’t jerk off over. 

Max is probably drooling, and Liam runs into him as he’s stepping out of the lift. 

“Oh sorry mate I – Daniel, hello.” Liam’s voice is a bit high. Confused. Probably scared. “Didn’t realize you were in Vegas. Red Bull didn’t…”

Daniel stands up and comes over. Max is still staring. Daniel moves like an apex predator and Liam’s just the runt of litter in this.  “Hey Liam. Well. Red Bull doesn’t own me anymore mate, do they? I can be wherever I want.”

He claps Liam on the shoulder in greeting then grabs Max’s limp hand. “Came to see my boy be the World Champion again.”

Liam’s probably saying something but Max doesn’t care, because Daniel’s pulling him in, arms going around Max, sticky shirt and all, and Max is going to swoon because Daniel smells good, good, good, their lips meeting after ages, Daniel’s lips and tongue the best, most refreshing thing Max has tasted all night. Someone’s moaning. 

It’s him. 

“Um…”

Liam’s still there. 

Max tries to pull back but Daniel’s got his hands on his ass, lifting, lifting, and Max’s legs going around him in response, and Daniel’s got them on the sofa in a second, Max perched on Daniel’s wide wide thighs without even separating their lips once. It’s the hottest thing Max has ever felt. He’s going to come just from the thought alone. 

“Liam,” Daniel’s saying, pulling back a few centimeters to give Max some breathing space. “I’m going to fuck my husband on this sofa right now, and he’s going to be screaming loud enough to be heard from the moon. So like,” he pops the k, and Max’s dick twitches, precome dripping into his underwear, “unless you want a front row seat to that for some reason, shouldn’t you be heading to bed?” 

“Husband?” Liam’s stuttering. “Excuse me? You can’t – Does Christian know? He’s going to be so mad at you, Max what the fuck –?”

“Get out,” Daniel says. Max has never heard him sound like that. “Now.” 

“I’m calling Christian,” Liam says as a parting shot. “He won’t – he’s not going to allow this.”

“Yeah you do that, mate,” Daniel rolls his eyes then squeezes Max’s ass harder. God, he’s so hot. Max feels insane. Husband husband husband. “What’s he going to do, fire me again?” 

The lift dings shut again. They’re blessedly alone. 

“Husband?” Max snorts, shivering as Daniel’s fingers undo his pant buttons. “Bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“The ring’s in the suitcase, baby,” Daniel says, smiling like a wolf, fingers curling around Max’s dick. Max grinds into the feeling, needing Daniel inside him right now. This is the best day of his life. “Was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Let me think about it,” Max laughs, and Daniel bites his nipple through his shirt. “Liam’s probably told the Herald by now.”

“I’ll personally send him the wedding photos,” Daniel cackles, licking up Max’s neck, leaving wet trails in the cold air con of the room, “if he promises to send me photos of Christian when he tells him I was about to fuck him in front of you.”

“Stop talking about Christian and fuck the World Champion already, husband,” Max says, his laughter turning into moans when Daniel all too willingly complies.

[balrogballs]

"Bilbo had assumed accusing an elven lord of Tookishness in his own house would result in swift decapitation and not a decades-long camaraderie that both parties truly cherished, but it seemed that in this regard too, the Lord of Imladris defied expectation."

The Peculiar and the Deranged: Moments between Bilbo Baggins, Elrond Peredhel, and the most unprecedented friendship in Middle-Earth, under the cut!

(aka this friendship wasn’t leaving my mind so I wrote this on my phone and drew this with the 3 pencils I had on a train because I’m incapable of being normal about anything)

on Bilbo's first visit to Imladris, featuring Estel's pet snake:

"You had a rat?" Bilbo blinked, hoping Elrond wouldn't notice the snake he was glaring at had initially been curled around his own neck. "Sir."

"I did not have a rat," corrected Elrond imperiously, looking every bit the lord of the valley. "I would never have a rat, I do not approve of rats. My daughter had a rat. Lothinvar, it was called, the bane of my household. Until this terrible creature wormed its way in. The snake that is, not the child, though Estel is not in my good books at the moment either."

on the return journey, after the death of Thorin Oakenshield:

"What can I do? How can I ever move past this?" Bilbo asked quietly, unsure why exactly he was pouring his heart out to a being six thousand years older than him, who must have faced far greater sorrows.

"Grief," Elrond replied, staring intently at him, "tricks you into thinking it’s all you have left. As though if you let it go, even for a moment, you betray him. You hold onto relics like lifelines, thinking what else is there to keep Thorin alive in your mind? It is a lonely life, Bilbo. It will turn you into the loneliest person in the world."

"Is there no way out?" he gasped, looking up at the elf.

"Start small. A smile, perhaps, when you think of a joke he made," Elrond said steadily, like he was reciting a recipe. “And then, try telling someone about him. Perhaps you could tell me. Something new each time you visit, perhaps.”

“You say it like you have experience of it, sir,” ventured Bilbo. “Like you know it by-heart. Did you get past it?”

“I did,” Elrond’s voice was confident, too confident. Bilbo chose not to probe.

"Thorin's nephews?" Elrond asked later, after Bilbo had gathered himself together, mopped himself up. "They were slain too? Both?"

"Yes, both."

"That is good," Elrond had said with a blank, intense smile etched into his features. "That it was both at once."

"What?" Bilbo sat up in shock, spluttering. "Good? What is wrong with you?"

"Were they not twins? Thorin's nephews I recall were twins, no?"

"Brothers. But what difference does that make? What do you mean good? I beg your pardon, my lord, that's an unhinged thing to say!"

"Oh. I am sorry, Bilbo," Elrond shook his head, the awful, blank expression still on his face. "I am sorry, I spoke without thinking. It is only that I had thought they were twins. Do forgive me, I misunderstood, and spoke out of turn."

"Don't worry," Bilbo sighed, finding to his own surprise that he could manage a laugh. "With names like Fili and Kili, it's frankly a surprise they aren't."

He still thought it was a rather unhinged thing for Elrond to say, but, well — Bilbo Baggins had always been fond of the peculiar and the deranged.

on a visit to the Shire, sharing burnt scones

"Cel was — is — remarkable. She had an exceptional appetite for burnt bread: she would go into the kitchens and instruct the staff to deliberately burn sweetbreads, just because she loved the crunch, apparently."

"She sounds like a Shire lass through and through."

Elrond laughed, shaking his head: "I am certain had I brought her to visit, she would never leave. Though she is not made for the rustic life. A total terror of any creature on four legs. The first time I spotted her she was in a garden, standing on the bench screaming, because she had seen an enormous beetle scuttling around the grass."

"Oh, so it was a damsel in distress situation, eh?"

"Quite the contrary," he admitted. "She threw a pair of gardening scissors right at my head, and called me utterly disgusting for the crime of allowing beetles to exist on my property, and threatened to cut off my hair with the same scissors if she ever came across another one. And mind you, this is Celeborn's daughter, and that soul would have married an Ent if Galadriel hadn't come around."

"Well, that truly is a surprise! Did she not even like dear Arwen's little rat?"

"Oh, you remember the rat!" Elrond's eyes shone, genuinely delighted. "If I remember right, she paid our boys to get rid of it and told Arwen she had sent it to, well, your people."

"I will be certain to invent an illustrious Shire-based family tree for the rat, if your Arwen ever gets around to asking."

on a Yule visit, when Bilbo forwent self-preservation, featuring the same snake:

"Oh, it was not I who named the snake after the Mariner, it was my… other father."

"That's impressive, sir. Quite bohemian."

"One would wish," Elrond muttered darkly, pouring himself more wine, as if all the talk of snakes had driven him to drink. "Estel is friendly with Maglor, who along with Maedhros, raised my brother and I. And I had banned all talk of pet snakes until Maglor showed up last year with a present for Estel: his very own snake named Gil-Estel, which they both insist has nothing to do with the Mariner and is simply a play on the child's name. Which I would have believed, if Maglor did not also own a remarkably ugly cat named Thingol."

"When they say you are Half-Elven, Lord Elrond," Bilbo blurted out, after a short, surprised silence. "Do they mean the other half is merely mortal man, or…?"

"Yes, the other half does indeed refer to mortal men," blinked Elrond in surprise, looking something other than perfectly composed for the very first time. "Do you… suspect otherwise?"

"Oh, I was certain there was a bit of Hobbit somewhere. Just your life, you know, your family, all of it," he waved his hands about the valley. "It's a little… well, Tookish."

"What in the world is a Took?"

on a midnight wander in Minas Tirith on the morning of Aragorn’s wedding to Arwen

When Bilbo came across the figure sat on the steps, he was ridiculously old and his memory even more ridiculously ragged, so he didn’t know why it was that he thought, reflexively, it will turn you into the loneliest person in the world. He didn't say a word though, only reached out a hand and sat beside the figure. Elrond didn’t say a word, only grasped the offered fingers so tightly Bilbo's knuckles turned white, held on as he shook. When it passed, he looked away and apologised, sniffing. "Forgive me, my friend, I do not mean to get melancholic, especially not on a day of such joy. I —"

Bilbo cut across him, too old to deal with the elvish tendency to be completely insufferable.

“How did you get past it the last time? With your brother?”

"I have one of the longest memories in this land, yet I cannot truly remember this one thing," the elf smiled bitterly, tapping his nails on the stone steps. "I slept, I think. A lot. I shrunk out of the world until the sheer pain of it no longer clawed at me. But I cannot do that, Bilbo. Now, I have duties, responsibilities. I have kings to oversee, a valley to hand over and a people for whom I must keep up something of a brave face. There is no longer any room for the small death I was permitted last time."

Elrond sighed. "You must think I am terribly privileged, or that I have too grandiose an idea about my place in this world."

"No, I was just thinking how unfair it is," said Bilbo quietly. "So unfair that for you there is a last time and now a this time."

Elrond, in tears again, was looking at him with an almost obscene gratefulness, as if Bilbo had done him some enormous kindness and not something any friend would do, looked at him in a way that made the hobbit think again, inexplicably, the loneliest person in the world.

“I’m sorry,” said the lord, catching his friend’s expression. “You should not be h-“

"Shut up," Bilbo huffed, looking truly offended, rolling his eyes. "You're insufferable, do you know that? Stop acting like you've jumped off a damned cliff before my eyes, Elrond. I'm starting to think elven history would have been a lot less bloody and tragic had more of you — and I mean that Fëanor, mainly, but the rest of you too — appreciated the value of a good cry. Emotional constipation is just as bad as the real thing, you know. And you can be sure I'll tell old Fëanor that to his face when I see him."

Elrond blinked, then laughed. "Oh, Bilbo, I am glad you found your way back to Imladris this year, I truly am."

"And I, in turn,” Bilbo found himself saying, cursing the fact that his memory decided to make its wondrous reappearance that night. “Am equally glad our mutual friend Aragorn tried to bribe me to put his pet snake in your office that very first day."

on a ship in the sundering seas, far too early

"Suffering from a spot of morning sickness, are we?"

"My apologies, Bilbo," Elrond stumbled back into Bilbo's cabin from the privy, looking only slightly less green than he had when he left it. "Please do not make any sudden movements."

"I am only pleased that you and I are now such intimate friends that you feel comfortable enough to throw up your breakfast in my bathroom. Maybe you should come around and do it every morning to wake me up, like the world’s most useless cockerel."

"It was not by choice, as you very well know," Elrond muttered, downing a swig of ground herbs and honey from a bottle in his pocket. "My mortal heritage does, unfortunately, mean there are some weaknesses to the constitution. Perhaps this is why it was Elros who took ship for Numenor and not I."

"Well, that, and you couldn't resist micromanaging six thousand years of Middle-Earth now, could you?" chortled Bilbo, settling down in a plush chair and laying his walking stick by his side. "Mortality is all well and good, but heaven forbid you lose a chance to develop domestic policy over the continental grain trade. Besides, and I don't want to be the one who brings it up, but…"

"Elbereth, what now?"

"Your father was known as the Mariner, you know," Bilbo snorted. "As in, the seafaring sort, no? It would truly be such a shame if someone were to… write a poem about the mis-inheritance of seasi—"

"Write that poem, Bilbo Baggins, and I will personally petition Ulmo to turn you into seaweed."

in the house of Elrond in Aman, with the chattiest woman Bilbo has ever encountered (which is saying something)

"I only burned that layer because you made me do it, mind you. You really are as remarkable as he said you were," Bilbo blurted out as she picked out pink sugared biscuits with a dark crust that he knew to be from burning. He had even spread jam on them for a second layer of sweetness. "Mad and irritating, to be frank, but remarkable. I am truly glad to know you, Celebrìan — not as Elrond's wife, but, well."

He gestured at her weakly, meant the peculiar and the deranged. She understood.

"Yes, I do pity all the folk that know me as Elrond's dead wife," she wrinkled her nose, sitting down by him and grabbing a second burnt biscuit. "And considering my poor husband's approach to grieving, and all the laments Lindir said he's made him compose, that is what most end up knowing me as. It is quite a pity, I am as you say, delightful. Oh, Bilbo, this is amazing! So wonderful, I didn't think pastries could be this sweet!”

"No, not when your cheapskate of a husband is in charge of the rations," he said in a carrying whisper. "In the Shire though, we know how to live."

"Who are we referring to as a cheapskate then?"

"The elf who implemented a sugar tax in his valley," said Celebrian dryly. "You may know him. Have a biscuit!"

"I would truly rather nail myself to the birch," he said dryly, picking up a piece of bread. "I do not get the logic behind oversweetening victuals. Impractical, unnecessary."

"Oh," Celebrían clapped her hands to her mouth. "Of course! The Lord Elrond grew up amidst the War of Wrath! Surely, he has not mentioned that to you, has he? He never does!"

"Ah, that he was raised in military conditions by a couple of kinslayers?" chuckled Bilbo. "No, not at all. Not once. He certainly never brought it up in our first ever conversation. Should we ask him to expand?"

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a house in the middle of nowhere l Joel Miller

Summary: you and Joel went on patrol together, nothing went your way

Warnings:  angst, guns, switchblade, killing people, allusions to sexual abuse, blood

A/N: your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

# 1/2

"We should be reaching that building in a few minutes."

You nodded and didn't slow down when you heard Joel's footsteps behind you. The leaves crunched under your shoes and the air in the forest was pleasantly cool. It was as if you had done this before.

The flu that had been sweeping through Jackson for a few weeks now had also reached the people patrolling the area. Soon, Tommy had no choice but to ask you and Joel to start working together again. 

Despite his concerns, he was pleasantly surprised - you were a great team. That's why he recommended you check out one of the buildings, which was a bit further from your trail.

"Looks good." You said, stopping in front of a small house standing near the end of the forest.

"Yeah. Too good." Joel mumbled. "Do you remember that..."

"I remember." You interrupted him, because your thoughts immediately drifted to a certain house you had found on your way to Jackson. "I saved your ass that time." You smiled, noticing the grimace on Joel's face.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling." he mumbled, heading towards the entrance.

But this time it was safe. The house was small and it took you a few minutes to check all the rooms. Apart from a few canned goods, a few old blankets and a dead bat in the bedroom, everything seemed long forgotten.

"This will be a good base for further patrols." Joel noted as you spread your things in the living room with the intention of spending the night there. "Once we check the area and make sure everything is safe."

You sat down on the dusty couch. The feeling that all this seemed strangely familiar to you filled you since your first joint patrol with Joel.

He didn't press you, he wasn't pushy. The safe distance you wanted to maintain was perceived by him, although you felt his gaze on you many times. You weren't without blame either. Your eyes often lingered on his broad shoulders for a few seconds longer than necessary. You missed him.

"We'll eat something and you can lie down." Joel announced, pulling sandwiches out of his backpack. "I'll take the first watch."

"There's water in the bathroom. Cold, but it's there." You noticed, doing the same as he did.

"Maybe the house is connected to a well. It's hard to tell right now." You handed him a cup of coffee. "Are you going to the party on Saturday?"

You looked at Joel, surprised. "Since when are you interested in parties in Jackson?"

He shrugged and chewed a bite of sandwich. "Ellie asked."

"Oh, did she say anything else?"

"That this new guy, Walsh, asked her about you."

Warmth crept up the back of your neck and you hoped Joel didn't notice your confusion. You weren't dating anyone, you didn't want to. But you knew what Miller was talking about. You and Walsh had been on a few patrols together, and you'd been seen together in the city too.

"Your coffee's getting cold, Joel." you replied, cutting off the discussion.

The room was filled with Joel's quiet snoring. You had been sitting by the window for almost two hours, observing the area. The first rays of sunlight were breaking through the treetops, and you only noticed a few squirrels and a hare.

Your spine was slowly starting to hurt, so you got up quietly and, trying not to wake Joel, you went to the door. Maybe you should have let him know you were leaving, but you saw how much he needed sleep. The lack of people meant that you were almost always outside Jackson, so that those who had families could rest or recover.

You quietly closed the door behind you and inhaled the fresh air. With your finger still near the trigger, you moved forward. The area was quiet, the fog was rising here and there between the trees, and even the birds were just waking up from their sleep.

An unexpected rustling behind you gave you goosebumps. You turned around sharply and saw a pair of rabbits disappearing behind the bushes.

"You scared me." You mumbled to yourself smiling "Don't do that again."

Then you heard a completely unfamiliar voice "I promise I won't do that again, doll."

You turned around sharply and saw the man behind you, then you felt something hit you and darkness engulfed you.

Something was tugging at you. You felt your wrists being tied. Some pushy hands searched all over you, and then someone patted your cheek.

"Doll, wake up!" the same voice, unfamiliar to you "Mike, you hit her too hard."

More steps and someone crouched down next to you. He brushed your hair away from your face.

"Such a pretty face, and look what you did." the first voice hissed "I hope you didn't break her nose."

"Do you need her nose for something?" Mike sneered and patted you on the cheek a few times "Hey! Get up!"

You moaned quietly and opened your eyelids. You almost immediately wanted to back away, but there was a tree behind you, and two men in front of you, who were staring at you with interest.

"Morning, doll." one of them greeted you with a smile "I'm Patrick, and you?"

You pressed your hands together violently, trying to get as far away from them as you could. It was impossible, you knew that. 

Fuck! How could you be so careless? You had been with someone last time, but now... 

You thought about the sleeping Joel. Maybe you had at least managed to get far enough away from the house that they wouldn't find him so quickly. Hopefully.

"Hey, bitch!" Mike nudged you in the shoulder, and your gaze immediately went to him. "Can you talk? I didn't knock your teeth out, did I?" he cackled as if he had told a good joke.

"No." You replied quietly.

"Good start." Patrick nodded, his eyes lazily moving over your face. There was something strange about him, something slippery and indecent. "Will you tell us what you're doing here, doll?"

"I was walking."

"You were walking." Patrick repeated after you, reaching out and pulling a blade of grass from your hair, there was something in his gesture that gave you shivers "Pretty girls like you shouldn't walk alone. Is anyone with you?" 

You shook your head and Mike immediately spat in the grass.

 “She's lying!” he growled, standing up. “I'm sure someone's nearby.”

Patrick frowned. 'Come on, I'll help you.' He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to your feet, then pinned you against a tree. 'Who's with you?' he hissed. 

'I'm alone.' you repeated. 

'Wrong answer.'

You flinched nervously as a knife blade flashed before your eyes. It was the same switchblade that Joel had given you. You carried it with you, they had to find it when they searched you. 

“Listen to me carefully, doll.' Patrick moved the blade to your chest and soon you saw the first button on your shirt pop off, then the second. 'You'll tell us what we want, okay? Be a good girl. Maybe then I'll be gentle with you, huh? I wouldn't want to hurt you...' he made a sad face as if he was really sorry, two more buttons popped off. 'But I haven't had a warm pussy in a while, I might be too hard for you. Unless you like that? Do you like it, doll?"

"I'm alone." You managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "I swear. I... I got away from the group."

"That bitch is lying, I can feel it!" Mike growled, looking around the area. "Do what you have to and let's get out of here."

Patrick watched you closely. His gaze slid down to your chest, which was rising rapidly with every breath. Your bra peeked out from under your shirt, the outline of your breasts must have been clearly visible to him.

"You could have been good, doll..." he whispered. "We could have been something great."

"Please..." you groaned.

At that moment you heard a shot. You didn't know where it came from, but you saw Mike stagger and fall hard to the ground. In an instant Patrick looked up, then looked at you.

"Who is it?!" he growled angrily, pressing you against the trunk so hard that you felt something stab you painfully in the back.

"Your Death." you gasped.

Another shot and warm blood splattered on your face. You slid to the ground gasping for air. Patrick's body lay beneath your legs. Strong hands grabbed your arms and then your face.

"Are you okay?"

Joel!

You nodded your head violently. He noticed the bonds on your wrists and when he looked around he saw the switchblade lying in the grass. He quickly cut the rope. In a second your arms were wrapped around his neck and a quiet cry escaped your throat.

"It's okay, I've got you." he whispered, stroking your hair and back "You're safe."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist

[myechoecho]

Watch the first two episodes of When the Phone Rings and where has something like this been ALL year in kdramaland???

There is something delicious about how Sa Eon and Hee Joo are both in communication yet have zero communication with one another. I love that she told him off at the party in sign language knowing he would not understand. The fact that she's been quietly defying him this entire time and he's only just realizing it now.

Did I suspect that Hee Joo was not actually mute? Absolutely. It would have been more surprising if she was mute. However, I was floored when it was revealed that Hee Joo had the phone and was using it to taunt Sa Eon in a moment of sheer rage and hurt. The utter betrayal she feels because he told the kidnapper to go ahead an kill her then he has the nerve to say at the party she is his weakness what just too much for her. I fully support this deranged and brilliant move.

Now we get this bizarre flirtation between the two, with them weirdly learning more about the other all through the voice modulated cell phone that Hee Joo swiped. . Hee Joo taunting him with all he doesn't know about her. Sa Eon learning he does not know about Hee Joo and then becoming determined to learn about her. Though that, Hee Joo learning that he actually does care and probably always did. This is what is going to push them together.

Though for someone that says they are in absolute control of everything, it's slightly odd that Sa Eon would not learn sign language. Like what if she was telling the ambassador that she is being held hostage and needs help? I guess she's been isolated and hidden enough to not matter. Even the way he "confirmed" how she was home in order for him to say to the kidnapper to kill her was a bit lazy.

At the same time, there was clearly some nagging doubt that Sa Eon had. He was very much relieved that she was safe. He was also absolutely furious to learn that the kidnapping was real as seen by his bloody knuckles. Not sure why he thought he knew her when they did not speak through their 3 year marriage, but now it's driving him nuts to know that there are pieces of her he simply does not understand. He is going to rectify that.

I am very curious as to how their marriage came to be. The reveal at the end that it was Sa Eon to suggest the bride swap seemingly to save Hee Joo from marriage to a terrible person. Even though he is cold and indifferent to her and literally called her a hostage so it's still not a great situation for Hee Joo to be in. I have a strong suspicion that person texting Sa Eon was Hee Joo, and NOT her sister. The language used in the text is identical to the language Hee Joo used in the present to threaten Sa Eon.

If I am right about this, that opens up so many questions. Why did Hee Joo want to stop the marriage? Where is her sister? Did her sister know? What secrets of Sa Eon's family did Hee Joo know? Why did Sa Eon suggest the bride swap after leaning Hee Joo was to be married? Did he always care for her? Why did Hee Joo agree to this marriage, since the person on the other end of the text was obviously thrown by the suggestion? We know that Hee Joo's mom/step mom uses her father to manipulate her so that probably plays a role but is there more to it?

Clearly the kidnapper is also going to make a reappearance since he's not going to let all his carefully laid plans go to waste. The preview for the next episode has me excited. And Hee Joo and Sa Eon have bucket loads of chemistry.

I will end with my now obligatory rant on how this show should be 16 episodes. At least it's 12 episodes since those shows tend to work a bit better than the ones that are 10 eps or less. But I am still bitter about the episode count.

[pankowperfection]

Good Intentions

reposting because Tumblr doesn't like the old link

GIF by normatural

Summary: JJ keeps watch over you at a party, but decides he can't stay away anymore

Warnings: smut, mentions of drinking, mentions of drug use, oral (fem receiving), 18+

Being John B's younger sister meant inheriting the other pogues as family, regardless of whether you wanted them or not. They were basically siblings you'd never asked for, so while everyone was polite when you were all together, you weren't particularly close with any of them. Unfortunately, John B always dragged you out with them so you weren't just sitting at home alone and tonight that had meant going to a kook party on Figure 8, the very last place you wanted to be.

You had stressed about what to wear, in the end opting for a pair of ripped jeans and a lacy black tank top that showed a little bit of under boob. Strappy sandals on your feet you headed to the kitchen, finding JJ and John B gathering beer to take to the party. "Are you guys almost ready?" JJ turned around at the sound of your voice, looking you over head to toe. You missed the way his eyes darkened at the sight of your exposed breasts, how he swallowed thickly before looking away. "Yes y/n, chill. Just gathering supplies. Let's go." You follow the group outside, piling into the Twinkie and praying the night goes smoothly.

Of course as soon as you arrived at the party, everyone split off into different directions, leaving you alone. John B had gone to search for Sarah, Kie and Pope settling into a deep conversation about environmental changes needed to protect the beaches. JJ headed out to the back patio overlooking the beach, searching for a quiet spot to roll a joint. Wanting to look like you belonged you wandered into the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink into the red plastic cup before making your way back to the main part of the party. Unbeknownst to you, JJ had come back inside, positioning himself in the corner of the room to keep watch over you as John B had instructed.

He'd always been secretly attracted to you, never making a move because he didn't want to be the guy to go after his best friend's younger sister. He had spent many hours admiring you from a distance, wanting to be the one to make you laugh on a bad day. Countless nights he had laid wide awake in bed, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your bare skin beneath his fingers. How did you taste? What would it sound like for you to moan his name? The thought of anyone else touching you, getting to see you in that way, made JJ see red.

Over the next few hours, several guys approached you and tried to get you to dance. Each time you turned them away, getting more frustrated with each pursuit. The final straw was when none other than Rafe Cameron had stalked up silently behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you back against him. You let out a gasp, spinning around in his arms quickly and attempting to shove him away. "Rafe, get off of me." He smirked down at you, leaning in closer. "Shh, relax sweetheart. I just want a quick taste. Let me show you a good time." Without further thought you threw your drink into his face, leaving him fuming before stalking off to grab another.

Suddenly you were pulled into the hallway, a familiar large frame caging you in against the wall. "JJ, what are you doing?" He sighs, letting his hand trail down your face before tucking your hair behind your ear. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Seems like you haven't had a moment of peace all night, all these dumb kooks treating you like a piece of meat." You look up into his blue eyes, something different in them that you haven't seen before that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. "I'm fine J. Why do you care anyways? I know John B asked you to look out for me, but I can take care of myself." He smiles, dimples on display making your heart beat faster. "Oh I know, I saw that for myself. You look so hot, even hotter when you threw that drink in Cameron's face. Sexiest thing I've ever seen."

He leans closer, hands on either side of your face, close enough you can feel his breath on your lips. "JJ...." His lips are on yours in an instant, soft at first, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. When you let a moan slip and tangle your hands into his hair he loses all restraint, pressing his body into yours as his tongue plunges into your mouth. His hands are everywhere, caressing softly over your breasts and bringing your nipples to hard peaks before traveling further south, ghosting over the front of your jeans and making your panties soaked. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your core, grabbing onto his ass to pull him closer still causing him to groan into your mouth. You pull apart breathless, chests heaving and heat flooding through your system. "Take me home J, please." He nods, making some kind of excuse to John B about you not feeling well and letting him know he was taking you home.

The ride back to the Chateau is quiet, air thick with sexual tension. You barely make it over the threshold into the house before he is on you again, picking you up and carrying you to the spare bedroom he calls his own. He sits down on the bed with you straddling his lap, hands kneading the flesh of your ass as you grind down over his length. You pull his head back, exposing his neck as you kiss and suck over every inch of exposed skin. "Shit y/n. We shouldn't do this, your John B's sister." You push him down onto the bed, rocking over length again in slow, deliberate motions that cause him to moan again. "Tell me you want me to stop J and I will." You continue, friction of your jeans rubbing your clit perfectly as you start to pick up speed. "Fuck,” he groans, flipping you over quickly and trapping your hands over your head.

"You're sure this is what you want? Cause once I start, I won't be able to stop." He searches your face for any sign of discomfort, wanting to be certain that you really do want to cross this line. "I want you JJ. Please, please make me feel good." With that he helps you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and taking in the sight of your naked breasts. "God, you're so perfect," he coos, leaning down to take your left nipple into his mouth. You weave your fingers into his hair, holding his face close as he lavishes your sensitive bud with his tongue. He kisses his way to your right breast, repeating the same actions as his hand pops the button on your jeans. He pulls the zipper down slowly, connecting his lips to your neck as his fingers dive under the material of your panties. When you feel the coolness of his ring touch your overheated skin you moan, hips bucking up into his touch. "Mmm JJ, feels so good." He takes his time, teasing two fingers up and down through your folds, lightly grazing your clit with each pass. "So wet for me sweetheart, bet you taste so good."

His hot, greedy mouth kisses down your body, pausing long enough to remove the rest of your clothes before settling between your thighs. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." His breath tickles your pussy, eyes threatening to roll at what is about to happen. "J please, need you so bad." With that he dives in, devouring you with such ferocity you swear you might pass out from the overwhelming pleasure. Your nails rake into his scalp and he moans, vibrations making your thighs tremble. Two fingers tease around your entrance before he plunges them inside, curling them just right so his ring massages your walls. "Fuck J, don't stop." He increases his pace, fucking you with his fingers while his talented tongue worships your clit. "Come on sweetheart, cum for me." His soft command does you in, body trembling as you grind against his face while you ride out your orgasm.

The sight of your release shining on his chin as he comes up to kiss you makes you feral, pushing him onto his back again before hovering over his length. "Easy sweetheart," his abs tense beneath your touch, struggling to not show how excited he is at the thought of you riding him. "Is this okay? Can I ride you?" His eyes roll back at your words, moan leaving his plump lips that tells you all you need to know. You line him up before starting to slowly sink down, his thick length stretching you in a way no one has. "God, you're so big." You finally bottom out, taking a moment to breathe and adjust to how deep he is inside of you. "Y/n, fuck. Need you to move, squeezing me so fucking tight."

His hands grab your hips, guiding your motions as you start to bounce up and down on his length. His fingers dig into your hips, grip bruising but you just don't care. Suddenly he lands a soft smack to your ass making you gasp and clench around him. "Oh god," he groans, bucking up into you to meet your thrusts. Before you can realize what happened he has you on your back, legs over his shoulders as he plows back into you. You let out a whimper, nails digging into his back as he starts to thrust hard and fast.

"You feel so good, don't want to ever stop." He pins your hands over your head again, laying down on top of you and sucking bruises into your neck. The new angle feels amazing, each thrust stimulating your clit. "Yes J, just like that. I'm gonna cum again." He somehow speeds up, rocking into you faster. When he bites the sensitive spot on your neck your orgasm washes over, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as you moan out his name. "Shit princess, gonna fill you up." A few thrusts later he stills, warm release coating your walls as he comes to a halt.

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[baocean]

make up - jj maybank

(gif credit to @devilsmenu)

jjmaybank x kook!reader

summary: after jj hooked up with your best friend, you wrote both of them off. it’d been easy to ignore the both of them, until you came face to face with him.

warnings: sex baby, spitting, swearing

you were sure there was nothing more that you hated than jj maybank.

you never give into the stereotypes of pogues vs kooks, but you couldn’t help but despise that blond pogue.

sitting on a couch at the random house party with your friends, you weren’t even sure why kooks and pogues tried to party together, it never ended well.

sarah cameron walked by with john b, hand in hand, sarah’s free hand waving at you as they passed.

mya, maria, and alex sat with you, talking amongst themselves as you stared at him over your drink.

his blond hair was in his face, shaking back and forth as he laughed. he was talking to one of his friends.

like he knew you were looking at him, his eyes flicked over to you.

you rolled your own. adverting your attention back to your friends, trying so desperately to not look back at him.

but you were done with him, for good. after he got with your best friend, even though you both agreed you weren’t going to hook up with other people, you cut them both off.

the entire island knew you hated jj and that he hated you, but behind closed doors, the quiet sweet nothings and hours wrapped in his sheets told different stories.

he had called you close to a hundred times, texted you twice as much.

you were done. so, you wouldn’t look back at him.

jj hadn’t been there for more than an hour before he was getting into a fight with some kook.

you got up to see what the commotion was about, groaning when you saw jj lay a punch on the guys face. so typical of him.

and somehow, he found you in the crowd, smirking like crazy at you, right before he got hit again.

you didn’t even flinch, because you’ve seen this jj too many times to count. the no good, nasty side of jj.

he spit blood, laughing as he grabbed the guys head and brought his knee up to hit him again.

the kook went down, not getting back up right away. a few people ran to check on him, you just stared at jj.

the arrogant smirk on his face dropped when he saw the look on your face. you turned and walked away.

you headed up the stairs to the second floor, looking for a bathroom to get some space from everyone.

“sweetheart, where you going?” his voice insighted something close to rage in you, motivating you to keep walking.

“don’t ignore me.” his voice was closer, much more demanding now.

it was hard to, even if you had been doing it this past week. everytime he texted you or called you, you wanted to answer. but he hurt you, so you wouldn’t.

“fuck off, jj.” your voice was harsh as you opened a door, finding an empty bedroom, deeming it good enough.

“oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart.” he cooed, a laugh following. you knew he’d walk into the bedroom with you, closing and locking the door.

“can you not take a hint? i don’t want to fucking talk to you.” you finally turned, almost surprised to see the state of his face. there was blood coming from his nose, a bruise already forming on his cheek, more blood coming from his mouth.

“don’t care. i want to talk to you.” he shrugged.

“well, you look like shit. let me fix you up first.” you shot at him, hoping it would falter him.

of course, it didn’t, not much did. “my girl gonna take care of me? how sweet.” he was so bitter, but so addictive.

“i’m not your girl. get that into your head. just can’t stand looking at you.” you gave him a mean smile, huffing as you walked into the connected bathroom.

he followed you in, watching as you fumbled around with things under the sink, grabbing a cotton pad and running it under the water.

“come here.” you words were laced with annoyance.

this happened too often. it’d only been a week since jj hooked up with your now ex best friend. you were still familiar with this scene. him coming to you, covered in bruises or blood. whether it be from his father or some random kook. he’d come find you, you’d take care of him.

“so bossy. just the way i like it, sweetheart.” he tittered. you wished you had some sort of alcohol instead of water, to sting his wounds.

ignoring him, you dabbed off the blood from his mouth, wiped away off his nose.

“you hate me now?” his demeanor dropped, looking at you in the way he only looked at you when he was really upset.

“always have, especially now.” throwing away the cotton pad, you went to wash your hands.

“i’m sorry.” he sighed.

“you’re not, you just want to hook up with me.” turning back to him, you shook your head, then laughed.

“i do, i won’t fucking lie. but i am sorry. miss my favorite girl.” he reached up to play with the ends of your hair.

“oh, who’s your second favorite? pia?” you laugh at him.

“look, that was a mistake. really, i fucked up. i know.”

“glad you figured that out.” you pat his shoulder, heading out of the bathroom.

“sweetheart, please. give me one more chance. i won’t mess it up, i won’t.” jj grabbed your arm, pleading with you.

you sat there for a second, contemplating. you hated jj, but you missed him. you hated being alone these past few days, after being so familiar with calling jj over.

“fine.” you rolled your eyes, not letting jj’s celebration affect your features.

he pulled you into a hug, before quickly drawing back and kissing you.

his hand came up from your waist to your face, gently rubbing your check with his thumb.

“i missed you, sweetheart. went a whole week without talking to my favorite girl.” his hand on your cheek slowly wandered down to your neck.

“make it up to me then, maybank.” you bit at him.

that was the confirmation he needed, and you were on the guest bed almost immediately.

his lips kissed down your neck, down your collarbone and shoulder.

his fingers fumbled with the straps of your top and bra, pulling them down together. his lips connected with your nipple, sending you shooting foward.

his left hand rolled your other nipple between his fingers, looking up at him through his lashes.

that was almost enough right there, screwing your eyes shut from the feeling.

he left you, your eyes popping open as you groaned. “sweetheart, i will treat you so good after this but i’ve waited a week to fuck you.”

you rolled your eyes as his fingertips dipped under your waitband and pulled your shorts down.

his rough hands ran over your thighs, giving you shivers.

“god, been thinking about this for days.” jj groaned. you were about to let out a sarcastic comment, but were cut off by jj pushing into you, bottoming out.

your hand flung to his bicep, mouth wide open. he steadied his pace, rapid and hard. his hand hooked under your leg, pulling it up to give him a better angle.

it was all so much, feeling him everywhere, because he was everywhere.

his free hand grabbed your chin, your eyes opening just in time to watch jj spit into your mouth. he smiled, tapping your cheek as he continued his pace.

“fuck j, so good.” was all you could manage.

he brought his hand up to your hair, caressing your head and pushing back your hair. he always did this. something so sweet and gentle as he fucked you so hard it would hurt in the morning.

with some force and a whole lot of strength, you flipped the both of you over. jj looked surprised at first, before quickly falling back in and grabbing your tits as you rode him.

your hands were on his chest, riding him hard, focusing on pleasuring yourself, not caring about jj.

you hit your high, crashing on top of him as you came, not being able to hold yourself up.

“fuck fuck sweetheart i’m gonna cum.” jj’s eyes closed, a sour face falling onto his features.

“go ‘head baby.” you cooed, his hands tightening around your hips. he came inside you, his moans filling the room.

he twitched underneath you. you held each other for a moment, before jj flipped you over again.

he kissed down your chest, stomach, down to your legs.

“what are you doing?” you questioned, your hand sliding through his hair.

“i told you id make it up to you,” jj snickered, his hands pushing your thighs apart, “so let me make it up to you.”

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 52

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 49, part 50, part 51

Wayne had a bed. The “For Sale” sign in the front lawn of the Harrington’s house has a giant red “Sold” sticker. Boxes fill the trunks of cars, and all the lights go dim. Every speck of life from that house, what little there was, is gone.

They were ready to move on. Move forward. Together.

There was no going back once his truck left this driveway. This would be the last time that he would ever live in a house larger than his own imagination. Larger than his dreams could afford. Living here was never permanent, but it was safe. A space that he came home to and felt at peace. Knowing that his nephew was there, alive, that there were people that cared about them. More than he thought they should, but they did anyway.

It was unbelievable, really. Knowing how many people rally together to help people they barely know. How Wayne deserved that, how he was able to get it at all, he will never know. He’s still wondering when they will all up and leave daily. He’s been fighting on his own for most of his life, he doesn’t know what to do with the small army that’s rallied behind him. Behind Eddie. Any of it.

When the key turns in the lock of his new home, it feels like the first time. Like it knows that this time he walks through the door, it’s permanent. Tonight, will be the first night of his new life. Almost a fresh start. He can hold it in his hands, but it doesn’t feel real.

Steve and Eddie walk in a bit later. Steve with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders. Ever since Wayne’s known about them, they’ve hid their relationship less. Still a bit when the kids are around, but once you see it, you can’t unsee it. He still has his worries, but they seem to be working together. Figuring it out as they go. Trying, failing, and trying again.

He’s never seen them so happy. Not this kind of happy at least. As they walk down the hall to Eddie’s room, laughing about something that Wayne doesn’t even know, it makes him smile. It brings a light to this house that only makes it shine.

Wayne’s room isn’t anything special, plain walls and carpet flooring. But it doesn’t matter. He has a door. He hasn’t had one of those since Eddie moved in. He has a closet. A small closet, but a closet none-the-less. He has a space of his own, one he has no clue what to do with, but can’t wait to find out.

The bed gets made; his clothes get unpacked. It still looks so bare, but it’s growing. Everything’s growing.

For the past few months, it was one thing after another. Running so fast and hoping that everything was done right in between. There were so many mistakes, so many changes. So many things Wayne wants to take back but never can. His life changed, for worse, and for better. Funny how change can do that.

“Wayne, what pizza toppings do you want?” Eddie yells from the kitchen. He had to make it through several walls now, they weren’t in such close quarters anymore.

“The regular,” he yells back. Hoping it was loud enough to hear.

The first night is good. The three of them at the kitchen table, laughing. Ready for something new. When Wayne went to sleep that night, it was the most peace he’d had in a while. Every little worry he had was put on hold. Let him finally rest, so he can continue with everything else tomorrow.

The doorbell rings in the mid-morning. Dustin waiting behind it with a casserole dish.

“My mom sends her congratulations on the house,” he says, pushing the casserole in his hands. “I’d say this is the last of it, but that would be a lie.”

Wayne laughs, nodding for Dustin to come in. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t throw a welcome party or anything. Thought you would be the group to do that.”

“Eddie talked us out of it, said it wouldn’t be what you wanted.”

“Well, he’s right. Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m heading over to Mike’s. We’re doing this summer campaign that he made with Will and it’s taking forever.” He’s silent for a moment, before continuing, “I still can’t believe you guys actually moved.”

“Crazy how life moves sometimes, right? I’d never thought I be able to have a place like this.”

There’s a crackle coming from Dustin’s backpack, a muffled voice coming through.

“I gotta go, hope you like the casserole, but don’t let my mom know that unless you expect a dozen more.”

Wayne follows Dustin out, grabbing the morning paper while he watches him bike away. It’s crazy how he’s seen that boy become the shell of a person after that week, and slowly come back to the person he is. Not quite fully there yet, but close.

It’s even crazier how the boys eventually emerge from Eddie’s bedroom and get food. How Wayne can just faintly hear the clink of mugs as they get coffee. The crash of dishes as they make something to eat. The noise used to echo through their little space before, now is muffled by the wall that separates them.

“Paper’s here,” Wayne says when he enters the kitchen, tossing it on the table.

“Thank you.” Steve puts down his coffee to go and grab the paper, flipping to the ads about vacancies.

“Anything new?” Eddie asks, eating some cereal at the table.

Steve shakes his head. “Not yet, I’ll check the other ones when I go to work though.”

“Game’s on tonight, want me to tape it for you?” Wayne asks.

“That would be great, thank you.”

Eddie groans. “The fact that I live with two sports fans is something I never thought would happen.”

Wayne pushes off the doorway. “Well, you’ve been living with one for years, so I think you can learn to deal with it.”

He leaves them to their breakfast, looking around to find something to do. There’re a few things he found at the thrift store he’s still trying to find the right spot to hang. A new shelf, picture frames waiting to be filled, a painting he liked. All things to help him make this the place he always dreamed, even if it was already there.

At night, when the door closes behind him and he lays in his bed, he can still hear the movement in the house. The patter of feet as they walk down the hall and the creaks of floorboards. The thump of Eddie’s can or his crutches. The water flowing through the taps, and the music coming from the room across the hall.

All of it, everything, was more than he ever dreamed. The people that stuck by him, stood up for his family, are now his friends. A community that welcomed him with open arms. His nephew is getting better. Learning how to manage his new life, in all the aspects of it. A person who not only opened his doors for them, but wanted to stay even when there wasn’t enough to give back.

What started in uncomfortable hospital chairs landed him in a plush bed, in a house that is his own. Pain transformed into hope he couldn’t even conceive. Life moved, and he moved with it. Funny how it landed him here, happier than he’s been in a long time.

A laugh forms in his chest, and he frees it.

“What’s so funny,” Eddie asks, walking over to the couch.

“Nothing,” Wayne shakes his head. “Nothing at all.”

Note: Wayne's pov is now complete. One more chapter of Dustin's pov before we start the epilogue.

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[vidavalor]

Your metas are keeping us all well fed, thank you very much. I have some chocolate tea for you? And homemade vegan cookies if you like.

What do you think about Crowley's "Can I watch?" he could have just said "can I accompany you?" or "do you mind if I tag along" or "I wanna see this"...

Allo, @procrastiel! Ya know, I've never had a chocolate-based tea! I would definitely be down for trying it. Thank you. 💕

In the scene you mentioned, Aziraphale is about to go around the neighborhood to tempt the Whickber Street shopkeepers into coming to The Meeting Ball. The meeting is scheduled for 6:30pm later that day, which is a Thursday. No one is going to want to go to the irritating work thing at this point in the week. Our introverted bookseller knows as well as anyone that half the street is planning on bailing on this thing. He can't have that happen. He has everything riding on this party. Both Crowley and Aziraphale know that Aziraphale is going to have to be persuasive to get these shopkeepers and traders to play ball and that some temptations are in store here.

Crowley is dryly asking if he can watch Aziraphale perform some temptations on the Whickber Street people because of how they use magic-related language euphemistically. He's joking that he would enjoy watching Aziraphale persuading the neighbors to come (heh) to the meeting because of how much he enjoys watching Aziraphale, err... perform temptations.

It's a joke on The Serpent always being down to, as he was eager to do in Lockdown, slither over and watch Aziraphale eat cake, ifyaknowwhatImean. He also, as we know, enjoys watching Aziraphale eat literal food.

The other layer to "can I watch?" is that the word watch means to stand guard and that is also what Crowley is doing while going around the neighborhood with Aziraphale in this scene. With angels and Shax sniffing around the shop, Crowley wants to be sure that no one bothers Aziraphale. R.P. Tyler should consider upgrading his idea of Neighborhood Watch, as he might be a lot happier approaching it the Crowley and Aziraphale way.

The original meaning of watch across several languages was actually in relation to the word wake and being awake. It referred to someone keeping watch, in the military and also on any manned ship, naval or otherwise. So, this is also a subtle sea/fish reference. Watch also originated from the unfortunately (as it is fun to say) obsolete Middle English phrase "wacches of wodnesse", which meant to stay awake throughout the night for "purposes of debauchery."

Crowley is seen in both seasons referring to this and spending time alone together at night a lot to keep their relationship a secret as their nightlife, as in this scene below when he's phrasing what he's saying in a coded way that is for Aziraphale's benefit. It's also part of of the wordplay in nightingales being descriptive of both their word-origin-happy hidden language and their romance as a whole. (Adding to the joke is that they were both, once, knights.)

But there is another word that connects to watch that Crowley and Aziraphale are playing around with in different scenes and that word is wait.

The word wait (and, so, waiting and waiter) comes from the Anglo-French waitier, which actually meant to watch. Phrases like to lie in wait come from this connotation of wait as being to watch with intensity and/or intent.

Crowley and Aziraphale play with watch/wait in a couple of different scenes. In Lockdown, they are also using watch in the sense of a timepiece/the alarm clock alongside the idea of Crowley waiting by bringing drinks and slithering over to watch Aziraphale eat cake. We'll look at Aziraphale using wait in the Marguerite's scene in a second. The joke for them is that the etymology of these linked words is also their own history together. It's this, basically:

In the Job minisode, Crowley waits on Aziraphale by "tempting" him with food on a tray and is pretty clearly getting off on watching Aziraphale eat. The first foray towards sex for them were the parasexual ox ribs in Job's cellar. Half the reason why we rarely see Crowley eat in the series even though various scenes and the book tell us that he does is because the food-is-food-but-food-is-also-sex metaphor means that they are using scenes between Crowley and Aziraphale involving food and drink to tell us about their relationship. The scene at The Ritz in 1.01 is the best example of this:

We learn so much more about them, individually and together, just by coming in on them on Aziraphale's last bite of dessert than we would have if it was structured differently and if Crowley happened to have been eating during this scene.

Aziraphale also plays with watch/wait in the scene at Marguerite's, winning at innuendo forever when he uses the above definitions but then also uses the meaning of wait that is related to allowing time to pass in anticipation of an eventual outcome when suggesting that Crowley wait in the bookshop.

You know, the place that is also euphemistically Aziraphale...

It's also present in the humor of Aziraphale throwing this whole Meeting Ball with Crowley in mind and so having the guy they've been terrified of for ages, whom they worried would be watching too closely and discover them (and who has really known forever) circling around with a tray of temptation tiny dinners, waiting on the entire neighborhood.

If you're theorizing and want to take it one step further into the story as a whole and not only on the level of Crowley and Aziraphale using this language between them?

2.05 is the start of the end of S2 because it is putting the bookshop attack into motion and that plot then carries over from 2.05 into 2.06 and leads to The Final 15. 2.05/2.06 is really like one, long episode. That culminating episode of the story begins with Aziraphale going around and successfully tempting the Whickber Street humans, with different levels of it needed, depending on the level of resistance with which he is met. Crowley goes with him, watching, right?

Now, jump to the much darker, nightmarish end to the season that all of that helps set up...

...where Crowley is quite literally forced to watch as Satan shows up to the business that is the bookshop to wait on and tempt Aziraphale... and then watches through the window as Aziraphale and Crowley temporarily implode.

[immortalityforthegoddess]

Hellooo!!♡ May i req for nsfw goo x reader? where goo is jealous and get mad (fr) bcs reader keeps being around gun until the reader has to spit out her safe words👀 the ending is up to your choice!! Thank u in advance and have a nice dayyy💛💓💛💓

Jealousy?

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

18+

Thank you so much love!

Also I wasn't sure what you ment by having to use the safe word so I just guessed😅

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐀 - 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 - 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠? - 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤? - 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞? - 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

You and Goo went to a party, although you really didn't want to go, goo convinced you too. But half way through the night he had dispeared, leaving you alone, in a house full of strangers.

"Hey {Name}, where is Goo? You came with him, yea?", you turned your head around and sighed in relief, Gun. Finally a Fimiler face.

"Hey Gun, yea I came with Goo but-", "But he dispeared on you?", You sighed and rubbed the back of your head, " yea...yea he dispeared on me...", Gun wasn't good with emotions but he could tell it bothered that Goo had just wondered off.

"Wanna drink? My treat for Goo treating you so shitty.", you were surprised because Gun always to have seemed to dislike you, maybe you had red the guy wrong.

"Yea, that would be nice.",

And now here you were talking and laughing with Gun, well he was more so talking and you were laughing. But still it was nice, you were having such a fun time with Gun that you didn't seem to notice, Goo, who was just staring at you and Gun.

"By Gun! Be safe!", " Yup.", it had been a few hours and you spent the entire time with Gun, which was nice, but you hadn't seen a trance of Goo all night.

Which was weird because he was busy staring at you and glaring at Gun all night.

The party was dying down and everyone was going home, you went to go look for Goo, because you were tired and ready to go home as well. But didn't find him.

'Danm Goo, where the hell are you?', you kept thinking as you went through every bedroom in the house. You didn't find anything, I mean well you found a couple making out which was eww.

"Hey pretty thang, you lost?", you turn around a see some random dude, " No. Am not, thank you.", you tried walking away because you had a bad feeling about this dude but he grabbed your arm, "why such a rush?",

You tried yanking your hand away but his grip just got tighter, "Hey look man, am just trying to find my boyfriend-", "Boyfriend?"

The dude laughed and it sent a shiver down your spine, he than slammed you into a wall, "don't lie, who would date such a slut?" You gasped for air as he roughly pit his hand up your skirt and start rubbing you, through your panties.

"NO- S-STOP!-", you froze as blood splatterd on your face, you open your teary eyes to see the dude being beaten nearly to death by Goo, thank god.

The dude head had been slammed into the tile flooring, blood was everywhere. Goo got up and walked towards you, "are you oaky?", You looked at Goo, he seemed so...emotionaless as he asked.

You cried and ran into his arms, he held for a moment before picking you up.

-

-

You took deep breaths as you let the warm water hit your back, you kept sniffling and shacking, and the water wasn't even remotely cold.

You took a deep breath as you turned off the shower and grab a white towel, putting it around your waist, walking out of the rest room you were met with Goo.

Who was sitting on his chair, sharping his sword. This scared you, you had never seen him so emotionaless like this. Not in your 4 years together.

"G-Goo?", you called out, catching his attention immediately. He put his sword down and walked over to you, he stopped and look down at you for a moment, you could see anger in his eyes.

His eyes than seem to soften as he bent down and kissed you on your lips, you return it immediately. He bit your lip and you gasp and that sudden stinging pain.

Goo took his chance to slid his tough in, "Mmm~", was all you could muster as goo slid his hands up your lower body, landing on your waist. Gently tugging at the tower and it falling to the floor.

You gasp at the cold air that hit your body, his hands going up and down your now naked waist, goo stoped at your ass, and kept his hands there, he continued to explore your mouth he's been in many times beforehand. Just never getting enough.

You could feel your pussy get wet and clinch, god you loved this man so much. Finally the kiss broke, a silver of saliva from boths sides as goo kissed you again, grabbing your hair this time with his one hand as the went to your back, pushing your body into his.

He began to buck his hips back and forth, "G-GOO!~", you gasp, feeling his hard member, you could feel the wetness in your pussy. Goo stopped to catch his breath and yours. Gently walking you backwards. He turned you around, now your back facing him. He gently picked you up laying on the bed, on your stomach.

Goo didn't say a single word through out all of this, which is odd because he normally is very chatty during sex. You could feel him gently spread your legs, your checks flushed a red as goo bent over your nuded body to bite and kiss your earlobe.

Gently going down to your shoulder and leaving soft kisses every where he could, rubbing your sides, it felt so good and smoothing. That feeling didn't last long as suddenly his touch was gone.

One hand on the lower middle of your back, as the other was fiddling with his belt, goo threw his bt across the room, as he did so, taking off his shirt revealing his muscles and toned skin.

"Sweetheart is it okay what am about to do?", goo's voice spoke up, his hand on the zipper of his pants, you nodded. Goo didn't say anything else but unziping his pants.

You could feel him the tip of his member at your entrance. Goo very suddenly slammed into your pussy, making you flinch hard. "G-GOO!~", you moaned out loud as he began to thrust in and out of you.

Feeling his member slid in and out of your velvet walls, feeling his heavy balls slap against your cunt with every thrust. "A-AHHH~", was all you could get out.

"Damn whore, you like this uh?", goo said, as he abused your entrance. " Y-YE-YES!~ M-MRE~", was all you could muster as your face was head down in a pillow. "Fucking nasty slut dumb slut, spending the entire night with some other dude."

S-some random dude? Did he mean Gun? You felt a hot hand print slid across your ass. Goo grabbing your hair, as he thruster harder and faster. "Aaaaa~", you could feel his member inside your stomach, making a mess of your insides.

You felt a not form inside your tummy, before you could cum, goo took his dick out and flipped you on your back. Grabing your legs and putting them on his shoulders. "D-daddy~, I-i n-need to c-cum~", " shut it whore",

Goo slammed back inside your swollen entrance, making you scream in pleasure. One of goo's hands make it's way up your body and to your boobs, "mmM~". Goo began touching your nipples, squeezing your boobs.

The not in your stomach grows as he keeps slamming in and out of your walls, making your other juice's go everywhere. You could feel how close you were, "g-GOO, am c-cuming-", goo looked up to your teared stayed eyes and with one finally blow realeased his seed inside of you. You came right after goo. Moaning the entire time.

Gently taking his member out of your abused hole, the juices came flowing out of you once he did, he lay beside you. "...you ever neglect me again and I'll shove an entire ass baby inside you." Goo said, as he climbed on top of you and bending down to suck on your neck. "O-OH!-, o-ok goo~".

Goo began to leave hickeys as his hand travel down your waist to your pussy.

Goo gently started to rubbed between your legs, once he noticed the blood down there because of him. You moaned, bucking your hips into his hand, him sliding a finger inside your already bleeding hole. Him gently Sisering your insides.

Tired and warn out already knowing goo would take good care of you, you fell asleep with goo's fingers still inside you. Goo notices you fell asleep but keeps touching you. Playing with your tits and touching your bloodied pussy.

Awhileater and goo takes his fingers out of you and stopeds abusing your poor boobs. Getting up and walking into the restroom, leaving your sleeping, used body as he starts a warm bath.

Walking back into the room be looks down at you. Your pussy was swollen so badly it puffed out, as blood leaked out. Your hips were red and probably very sore from his tight grip. Your boobs bruised and nipples swollen. Your neck different shades of dark purple and red.

You were very used and goo loved the sight. He loved the sight so much he grabed his phone and took a pitcher of you in this state. Even going in between your legs to get a pitcher of your abused, bleeding pussy.

He can't lie, breeding you was so much fucking fun. He adored the noises you make. He loves the thoughts of you being heavily pregnant with his child. You weren't ever allowed to leave him. He'll break you and force a child inside, he doesn't care if you begged him to stop or pleaded.

your his and only his.

Putting his phone down and picking you up, walking inside the restroom, gently laying in the tub. He kissed your neck,

God he fucking loved you.

[darlingshane]

Let's pretend it's 1996

Duncan Carmello x F!Reader

Summary: You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. It takes 10 years for you to see him again at your High School reunion. This night brings a lot of bittersweet moments between you and him, and you can't help but wonder if after all this time you could make this work again.

CW: fluff, crack, light angst, regrets, memories, exes, high school reunion, drinking, singing, kissing.

Word Count: 3,8k

A/N: This fic is set in 2006, the year the show was released. Duncan never dated Nicole, instead he was with reader. Also, I'm not a lyricist so forgive my cheesy ass song that I wrote for Duncan, but I know this is something he'd write.

— Links: AO3 // Masterlist

After sitting down at the table, you start bobbing your head to the sound of Car Fire, the band playing live, led by none other than Duncan Carmello—your ex. They've taken the stage to kick off the party, while the stragglers keep arriving.

Your friend Pam has left you alone momentarily to procure a couple of drinks. In that time, you've found yourself caught in a web of memories about your Duncan that trace all the way back to high school. It's in this very same gym you're in where you cheered for him from the bleachers when he played basketball. The very same place where you dance together during prom, and you couldn't imagine life with anyone other than him. And now it hosts your 10 Year High School reunion. You promised yourself that you'd never attend any of these cheesy events, but Pam convinced you to come along. She’s in the organization committee, and she was very adamant on you being here tonight.

Pam sets your glass of wine on the table right in front of you, and gets close to your ear to say something over the music playing, “you're staring.”

“What?” you slowly pick up your glass and bring it up to your lips.

“Tell me that you're not still pinning for that asshole.”

“I am not pinning,” you scoff and take another sip to swallow the lie. “I’m remembering. Remembering is not pinning.”

“Tell that to your face.”

You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. You were high school sweethearts, the ones that every thought they'd be together forever. But fate had different plans. You wanted to become a journalist, had your mind set on going to college on the other side of the country, and that put a strain on your relationship. Distance was not kind, and a year later there was no more you and Duncan. The last time you saw him was that summer, when you came back and everything went to hell. You haven't seen him in person since. You’ve seen him in pictures that your old classmates have on Facebook, but you never thought of reaching out, despite him being on your mind more often than not.

All the relationships you had after Duncan didn't work out, and it was solely on you. You could never bring yourself to love anyone when he was still a constant presence in your heart and mind. It’s something that you probably never got over, which is kind of pathetic considering he was the one who couldn’t overcome his issues about your long distance relationship. You should hate him, but you never did. You never could. All his concerns were valid, but you were too focused on getting your degree and traveling all over, something you’ve dreamed of since before you met him. And he felt like he wasn’t part of that. He had his life here and wasn’t willing to consider moving away, even if it was just for trying. The pressure was on you to make it work, and it made you feel like a failure for not doing your best to fix the situation. That’s why he was an asshole. He was just a kid, people would say… but so were you. There was too much you had planned for your future to throw away for him. He could've met you halfway, but because he was so damn stubborn that it all ended in a bitter note that left an aftertaste in your throat for years to last. This is mainly the reason you didn't want to come here today. You know it'd be hard to ignore everything you've put in boxes in the farthest corners of your mind. Now, the dust has cleared, lids are open, and you can't bring yourself to close them again.

This evening, he's singing all the songs he wrote in high school, which you remember every lyric to. You're the sole owner of two copies of the one and only album they ever recorded. One of those he gave to you, it came with a special dedication at the back. And a second one you bought to support the band. They're both in an old box labeled ‘Don't open’ that contains everything that you collected from that past relationship and that you've always been unable to get rid of that sits in the back of your closet.

You try to think about all the horrible things he said to you the last time you talked face to face in an attempt to put him out of your mind; but to be honest, it felt like such a surreal conversation you're not sure if it happened or not. You're not the one to hold grudges and yes, he was just a kid, who had just turned 19, and it'll be really petty of you to hold onto that forever.

As the short performance comes to an end, Pam leaves again to set up the next activity at the stage. Music starts playing from a playlist now as you wander around to pick up some appetizers from the buffet table to stuff your face with. Then you meet your colleagues from the school paper that are all gathered at the bar. You have a couple of drinks and a few laughs while catching up with them and everything that's going on with their lives.

Your social battery starts draining as your bladder keeps filling quickly. When you come out of the bathroom, you make a stop in the hallway to study the wall of memories of the class of 96 that holds a lot of moments frozen in pictures that you had forgotten. School events, trips, different clubs, yearbook portraits and personal pics of different groups of friends shine anew as if they were taken yesterday. They're all labeled by year, and the walk down memory lane ends with a graduation picture of the whole class. Your eyes travel back to a collection of snapshots dedicated to prom. There's one of Duncan where he's smiling proudly in his messed up tux after being crowned prom king. Another one of the two of you where he has put his crown on your head to share the win. He later on bought you a tiara, saying you were his only queen. Your heart sinks when you see a more intimate pic of you slowly dancing in his arms. You still remember what song was playing, how he smelled, how his hands caressed the exposed skin at your back. It seems to come alive for a second when you hear his voice behind you…

“I still think you should have been crowned that night.”

“I was a nerd. Haven't you heard? Nerds don't get to be prom royalty,” you say after swallowing the knot in your throat. You don't look back, you can't face him yet. Not this close.

“That's not true. Look at you, you were by far the most beautiful in that gym.”

“Well, it wasn't a beauty contest, either.” You sigh, staring at the most popular girl in school standing on stage with her crown next to Duncan.

“So, you're not going to turn around?”

“I don't think I can yet.”

“That's cool. Take your time.”

“You sounded good up there. I thought you guys went separate ways.” You fidget with your fingers, unable to move any other part of your body to look at him.

“We did. We just got the band together again.”

“You still got it.”

“You think so?” He still sounds so boyish when he says that.

“Hm-hmm.”

“I was hoping you'd come today.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” you keep your eyes glued to the pictures on the wall.

“Cause I needed to tell you that I didn't mean any of that shit I said when we broke up.”

“Duncan, you don't have to say anything. It's—”

“No. I do have something to say, cause I was a jackass. Thought that you deserved better than me. I knew if we stayed together, I'd hold you back. You were doing what you loved, and I'd have just gotten in the way so… I took the coward's way out. I thought that if you hated me, you'd just move on. Then it was too late when I realized that it was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I need you to know that.”

Listening to him opening that old wound makes your eyes well up, but you manage to reel those in.

“I tried to hate you,” you say. “Never could. Even when it hurt, even when I couldn't move on… I couldn't bring myself to hate you.”

It's then that you finally gather the courage to shift in your heels and face him.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” the way his lips curve up at the corners is utterly disarming. “I didn't think you'd talk to me.”

You shrug, “I didn't think so either. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes. “You look great.”

“You do, too.” And he does. Up close, you can see he's really grown up into his own with his simple dark suit and unbuttoned black shirt. “Look at you. You're wearing a suit, and you've gotten rid of that horrible mullet.”

“Yeah,” he laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his nape, messing up his shaggy curls. “Would you have a drink with me?”

“Hmm,” you pause and try to decide whether that it's something that you'd like to do right now. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why? Did you come here with anyone?”

“No, I just don't have anything else to say to you.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

You shake your head. “Whatever happened all these years ago is all water under the bridge, Duncan. You said what you wanted to say. I don't think it'd be healthy to sit down and keep rehashing the past.”

“Oh, I get it, you're scared.” He says with a teasing tone.

“I'm not scared.” You scoff, crossing your arms tightly against your stomach.

“No? You look terrified right now, hotshot.”

“I'm not.”

“Are so.”

“I'm not”

“Are so.”

“What, are we in school?” You bring a stop to it.

“Well, we are in a high school.”

You both stare at the other and break into laughter.

Duncan tucks both hands in his pockets and shrugs like he used to, biting his bottom lip with a smile before trying again.

“C'mon, let me buy you a drink for old times.”

“I think drinks are free.”

“Even better.”

“So I'm a cheap date now.”

“Hey, I didn't say anything about a date.” Duncan starts walking backwards, heading to the gym doors. “I'll be at the bar. Come. Don't come. It's up to you.”

You watch him disappear behind the big doors that clank upon closing. The music buzzing behind them temporarily comes to stop, and you hear murmurs in its place. You step closer to see through the window that Pam is taking the stage to inform everyone with mic in hand that games would start soon before letting the music resume. You look to the side to get a glimpse of Duncan taking a seat at the bar. Against your own wishes, your hands push the door open and let your feet zero in on his direction.

His face lights up when he sees you. He raises his glass up to you. “Look who decided to join me. I knew you couldn't resist.”

“Please, don't flatter yourself. I just needed a place to sit,” you say, parking your ass on the free bar stool beside him. “These heels are killing me.”

The waiter comes over, and you order another glass of wine while you watch Duncan go over a booklet left on the bar with the necessary information of all the attendees from the Class of 96.

“Is this true? You live in New York now?” Duncan shows up your page with your bio, and two pics of you side by side, one from your teen years and a recent one you send to Pam to assemble the class book.

“Hm-hmm.”

“And you write for a surfing magazine, huh?”

“Surfing magazine? What are you talking about? It’s called Surfeit. It has nothing to do with surfing.”

“I know,” he scoffs, “I was just messing with you.”

“Were you now?” You squint at him.

“Yeah, I gotta confess I’ve known for a while. I subscribed to that thing a few months ago.”

“Get out of here.”

“No, it’s true. I know you’re one of the founders. I’ve read all your pieces, I particularly liked the one about the invasion of the cum trees. It was fascinating.”

“Yeah? You think that one will put me on the right track for a Pulitzer?” You chuckle before taking a sip from your glass. “So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“Just recently.” He puts down the booklet and lifts his beer to his lips.

“Just recently? Why would you do that now?”

“Why?” he sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I missed talking to you. I found one of your articles online a few months ago, and it felt like I was hearing your voice when I read it, so I started looking for more, and I found Surfeit and I got most of them in the mail— It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?”

You balance your head side to side, measuring which side you lean on. “I think it’s sweet. I like this new side of you.”

“Which side?”

“You’re honest. Well, I suppose you always were, for the most part, but I used to have to pry words out of you when we weren’t talking about music, sports, or video games. I like that you offer them now without me asking, and that you’re capable of reading anything that didn’t come from a Playboy. I don’t think you were our target audience when we started the magazine, but I’ll take it.”

Biting his bottom lip, he looks down for a beat. “Okay, now it’s your turn to share something pathetic you’ve done to level the scales.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m pretty sure I’d win, and you’d laugh at me.”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t laugh.”

Clearing your throat, you look down for a beat before confessing.

“You know, I was just thinking earlier, when you were playing on stage, about all the stuff I kept from you in a box and that I still have. All the mixtapes, the Car Fire albums, the tiara you bought me, all the anniversary presents… all the pictures… I’ve hauled them over several states. I took it by accident to London once. I just can't get rid of anything. I never look at what's inside, whatsoever. I don’t need to, but it's always there cause, you know… cause I’m a pathetic loser and I never got over you.”

You feel your face going numb as you finish saying that, and when you look at his eyes, you see that his smile has disappeared too. Is he pitying you? It’s the only thing you can read on his expression right now, and you instantly regret telling him that.

He opens his mouth to talk, but he takes too long to respond. And before he can say anything, you promptly stand up and try to head out the door.

Surfing the crowd, you bump into Pam.

“Hey, I was looking for you. Come on, games are starting. Sit down.”

“I was going to—” You point at the door with your thumb, but she doesn’t hear you. She grabs your arm and takes you to the tables where everyone is gathering.

Your weak protest attempt goes unheard by your friend, who leaves you alone once more to explain the first game on the microphone as someone else starts handing a sheet filled with trivia questions to everyone. They range from school-specific questions to 1996 pop culture. This is the last thing you wanna do right now, but you pick up a pen and start filling your answers without putting too much thought into them.

“Hi—” the high-pitched feedback from the microphone tears your eyes from the paper, and you find Duncan back on stage, strapping a guitar to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I’m taking the stage again,” he says as the people from the organization committee start asking him to get down, with Pam fuming on the side.

“Actually, I’m not sorry. There’s someone here today and she… she opened her heart to me and I just stood there like an idiot cause I’m not good with words like she is. I… I thought I could say better with a song.”

You lock eyes with him instantly. You can see him swallowing the lump in his throat as he positions his hands on the guitar. He looks down at the strings for a beat before letting his fingers play the first chords. After a moment, his voice joins the melody in a mid-tempo rock ballad…

Your voice knocks down my own pride, All the things you wrote, all the things you shared. Sleepless nights, restless days. Guess I never figured out, How to let go, how to walk out.

Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.

There’s nothing like a fatal flaw, Caught up in my own fears and lies, I pushed you away, said you weren’t it. You walked away, I stayed right here Watching the years slip by.

Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.

And just for kicks, let’s pretend it’s 1996, We’re flying high, we’re back in that field The grass holding us up, watching stars collide.

Wish I had gone along…

Please tell me it’s not too late…

I’ll wait for you to say… baby, there’s still a chance.

The gym goes silent when the last chord fades away, and you can’t hear anything over the sound of your beating heart as you study every word sung in his song. You’re aware that all eyes are on you, expecting to see your next move, but you’re paralyzed in your seat.

Someone starts clapping, and the rest of the gym follow suit, breaking the spell you’re in.

You raise up from your chair and head out the door at a fast pace while the party resumes like nothing happened. You make it all the way to the courtyard and when you look back you see him following several yards behind, closely catching up.

Your feet come to a halt by the fountain, and you wait for him to face you.

“You know, you’re a liar,” you utter as he stops in front of you.

“All I said in that song was true.”

“No, you said you weren't good with words. I beg to differ.”

“You liked it?”

“Well, it wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, but it was good. It sounded like Oasis in their good years.”

“I mean, no one can beat Bohemian Rhapsody,” he snorts, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging in true Duncan fashion.

“Did you really mean it? If you could take it back, would you? You think we would’ve made it?”

“I meant every word of it, sweetheart. I never wanted to be with anyone else. I don’t know if we would have made it. I’d like to think that in another universe we did… You said you kept everything and I just choked up cause I did the same thing. I could never let you go, you know?”

“So, we’re just two wallowing assholes that couldn’t pick up the phone in 10 years?”

“Guess we are.”

“What do we do now?” You ask, folding your arms against your stomach.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I’m not the same person you remember, Duncan. We can’t just pick it up like nothing happened.”

“I don’t think I am, either. Maybe we could just stay in contact and see where that goes?” He takes out a hand out of his pocket that comes with a cell phone attached to his fingers. “Here, put your number in there.”

“It's funny,” he says as you pick it up from his hand and start typing your number in his contacts.

“What's funny?”

“Us being here, standing on the same spot where I first asked you out.”

You gaze away from the phone for a second. “Right, I didn't notice that. What was it? Homecoming?”

“That's right.”

When you're done saving your number, you call yourself to have his number registered on your end and give it back with a warning look, “don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. I give you my word.” Duncan purposely clutches his fingers softly around your hand when reaching for the phone. He uses his opposite hand to caress the shape of your knuckles.

The familiar touch makes your hair stick out, your breath gets caught in the knot of your throat, wrapped in a layer of regrets and unsaid words. There’s an I love you trying to force its way out, but you don’t let it. You can’t. It’d be ridiculous if you did. Instead, you step closer and cup his face. He lets out a sigh, preparing for what’s coming as your face shortens the distance. The same magnetic pull that brought you to him the first time over ten years ago takes hold of you as you capture the warmth of his lips in a tender kiss. His hands, driven by that same force, smoothly travel to your waist to hold you closer against him. You sway with the gentle breeze as you allow your lips to move with his to the sweet rhythm of that song that still lingers in the way his tongue delves past your lips. As you're drawn into the depth of his mouth, you curl your arms around his neck in a tight lock as one of your hands slides into the back of his hair. He moans in your mouth as a reaction to your fingers massaging his scalp. It’s easy to get lost in that moment and forget how to breathe as your lips ache for more, for all those missed years of kisses, you suddenly feel fused with him making up for all that lost time.

You’re not sure who pulls back first, perhaps it’s both.

He’s just as breathless as you are when your lips part and your foreheads meet instead.

“Wow,” he says under a shallow breath.

“Yeah, wow,” your lips draw a smile.

“Do you wanna go back inside?”

You shake your head. “I like it here.”

— Credits: beautiful divider by @firefly-graphics

[eatmeeraw]

never tell anyone anything ever. never tell anyone anything again.

Escapism.

summary: you’re in her friend group. you two have been close for months and you slowly fell in love with her more and more. you suspected the feeling was mutual because of how attached she was, how she behaved like you two were together, until tara began detaching and avoiding you, not showing up for you nor your friends anymore…

category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end.

warnings: swearing, idk if my writing is good sorry if it disgusts you, avoidant attachment everywhere, venting, alcohol usage, smoking, dissociation (r doubts she’s alive). portrayals might not be 100% canon. might not be completely proofread. there are mentions of tara’s trauma with amber and some behaviors she has because of it.

word count: 4,9k.

A/N: first fanfic, kinda nervous. i hope everything is okay and some people are going to like this. ethan and quinn aren’t ghostfaces in here, but the group knows they’re siblings, anika isn’t dead, and they’re all still in the friendgroup with the core four. ghostface isn’t present. tara is a bit of a emo who actually lags and denies everytime she feels emotions here. Error 404 kinda thing, but as the fanfic continues she gets better.

you are settled on the couch, your body sinking into the soft, cold, and miraculously still clean cushions, their fabric feels good against your skin, making your muscles relax. you could hear the voices of other people overlapping each other furiously, and smell the scent of alcohol, coca-cola and tobacco mix in the air.

you inhale just because you need to, you didn’t appreciate such strong smells, but you could handle it. you always handled it.

the room is large, but not too overcrowded, making the party feel a little bit less dangerous.

groups of friends are chatting around you, some people are dancing, you could catch some of the guests kissing or directly, shamelessly, making out, the sounds of their lips meeting, their spit, and everything else almost makes you nauseous.

the dim and warm hues of the lights are hitting you and the others, and the music in the background isn’t too loud, but loud enough to set the atmosphere and make people move to the rhythm of the sweet, animated music.

you luckily aren’t alone: sam, chad, mindy, quinn and anika were around you, on the couches, making short and light conversations. not everyone in the group was in the mood for partying, like sam, who was blankly looking at the ceiling, jaw clenching sometimes. you can see especially chad go around and try to flirt with some people, entertaining himself after the disappointment he had with tara. unrequited love always hurts, and you know it all too well. he isn’t the only one disappointed.

mindy and anika are creating the conversations mostly, quinn following them and playing their game every time, ethan, instead, her brother, is extremely silent, looking around like a lost puppy who couldn’t understand how to have fun. he always has been so weirdly shy.

you are lost in your thoughts, until anika talks again. « oh! have y’all seen tara? sam, any news? » before tara’s older sister could talk, chad opened his mouth. « she didn’t even show up tonight…weird. » « yeah, she hasn’t been around lately. didn’t even text back these days. i sent her a message about tonight’s party and she left me on seen…rude » mindy explains, looking at the ground, crossing her arms. you can hear a hint of anxiety in her voice.

« i mean, she has been through a lot- » ethan talks, surprisingly, but his sister interrupts him. « it’s not like her to disappear like that, but…i dunno. » she shrugs, now fidgeting with her fingers, suddenly serious again.

you drown in your bitter thoughts again, as you hear the others talk. their sentences a echo in the room of your fears and your indescribable confusion, making you feel slightly hazy even though no alcohol is flowing in your veins.

« y/n? » quinn calls for you, but you don’t reply, completely zoned out. « y/n… » another time, and this time you look at her, frowning as to invite her to go ahead and say what she needs to say. « when was the last time she replied to you? » she asks, and you grab your phone to check the chat. you scroll up, because ten or more messages were sent by you during those days where she fully disappeared. a worried you. a worried you that was still there, lingering, being the skeleton of your essence. « two weeks ago. »

and the question was asked to everyone else in the friend group: they all hadn’t heard from her since a week ago. they stare at you, and your breath hitches in annoyance and paranoia, as you are the center of the worst type of attention possible. you were sure it was your fault, you probably said something that made her get icky and disgusted, like always. you softly tremble in your seat as they discuss how, maybe, something was going on with you, and then sam talks, interrupting the endless, useless gossip that was gravitating in the air.

« can i talk, now? » she asks, crossing her arms tightly on her chest, head tilting slightly. ethan nods, and she continues her sentence. « she’s okay, just stressed. she’ll return. » her posture was tensed, her jaw just persistently clenched every time she’d close her mouth. you knew something was up, you knew she knew. anika sighs, and everyone nods, except you.

as the context of the conversation shifts, making the previous calmness of your friends come back, you stay there, you remain where everyone was investigating heavily on the girl you always loved.

you just felt the urge to cry: she’s so dear to you, the love you feel is like an eternal explosion, butterflies rising and falling inside your stomach, a soft hand grasping your heart: her hand. when you first started liking her, everything was smooth, like an oiled surface. the feelings were unspoken, no kiss was given, but, oh, how her eyes would sparkle every time you entered the room, every time you joined a conversation, every time you simply passed by.

her cheeks flushed, her softness being between your hands, she was malleable and weak for how much she seemed to care about you but you loved her the way she was. her hands loved to be in your hair, or on your cheeks, her fingers would perfectly interlock with yours, and her arms found comfort encircling your waist or neck.

but, still, at some point, she chose to act like you were dead, like right now.

are you dead? you aren’t sure, you can bet that your heart is beating still. you try to re-focus on your friends, whom you hear giggling in the background, giving one another the entertainment they needed in a similar party.

« so…what’s up with that guy you fucked, quinn? » mindy teases, giggling afterward, making the others gasp. quinn squints her eyes, you see it as a little detail that you actually appreciated about her. but, god, if she, sometimes, was annoying. especially when you were in tara’s apartment and you could hear continuous moans in the background while you were trying to have a normal conversation with tara, or with sam.

« huh, we text here and there…he’s fine, i guess. » she shrugs, like nothing was important, like he was just a passenger, someone that existed in her space just to satisfy her stupid needs once, and then disappeared. « no second date? you’re slippin’, quinn » chad jokes, raising an eyebrow, a hint of startle on his face. sam, instead, wasn’t surprised at all. « no. i’d say i prefer variety. »

« what a shame, anika and i were searching for a couple to go to a double date with. » mindy affirmed, anika nodded in agreement, a little pout painted on her face.

you think about how sweet it would be, to go on their double date bringing tara with you. maybe you would end up in a lousy fast food, or maybe an elegant, cozy restaurant with all her favorite dishes. you sighed, shaking your head softly as you looked around. you gazed at sam again, she was lazily scrolling through her phone, always serious and tensed up.

you get closer to her, whispering, as everyone else is distracted. « …did i do something? ». tara’s older sister looks up at you, and you see her turning off her phone as she pushes the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. she takes a deep breath before replying. « no, she’s just…complicated. » she looks around almost as if she could be there, secretly listening to your conversation. « it’s not just you. give her space. »

you stare around, still disoriented, if not more than before. you decide to get up and walk towards the table that holds bottles of beer, pouring yourself a cup and tasting the bold, cold bitterness while it fills your mouth and goes down your throat, bringing you relief. you drink a little bit more before everything gets destroyed by something that you didn’t exactly expect.

you see tara, the friend group slowly walking closer to her, and you do the same thing, still holding the plastic cup, now as warm as your palm.

« hey, you made it. » her sister awkwardly says, waving a hand, and tara would just softly nod and wave her hand back. « WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? » mindy screams and tara giggles, the nervousness was clear, she was avoiding eye contact with every single person in front of her like it would be a potential danger, like it would make the plague come for her body and soul. « we thought you went full hermit mode, dude. »

« i…didn’t think so many people would come. » tara murmured, looking down. felt off, like a withered rose, a rotten fruit, a bleeding pomegranate. tara looks at you, a strange spark in her eyes. you glance at her back, hesitantly, and you feel like death isn’t so bad, suddenly. you are hoping someone would show their guns and threaten everyone to have no mercy upon them in that exact moment. but no one saves you, saviors don’t exist, you remind yourself.

« hi. » she murmurs, forcing a smile.

« hi. » you reply, showing the palm of your free hand, waving it slowly, just a lazy move. she nods and goes away, showing a lack of interest in any sort of interaction between her and the group. they remain skeptical, and you just walk away again, gulping down every single drop of the drink you had in your cup.

a hour passes. you spend it by secretly glancing at tara, or at least trying to, since every time you would set your eyes on her, she would catch the opportunity to make creepy, long-lasting eye contact with you. you hate it, you hate it because you blush, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed by the slight, useless attention she gives you with so much nonchalance. after this, she is surely not going to talk to you again, you think.

the lights that once made you comfortable inside a house you barely knew the owner of, now make you irrevocably disturbed. too intense, too blinding, they would get in the way as you tried to understand what tara was doing, but it actually wasn’t much: talking to sam, looking around, scrolling on the phone, and grabbing drinks.

nothing to see. but everything to think about: many questions would torture your mind, and make your soul beg to leave your body at once. but what did you do? what made tara so distant? is it actually you that is the problem?

you stare at her again. this time, she was talking with mindy and anika, her expression cold, blank, like emotions were nothing to her but ants she could step on and kill with no hesitancy. she shook her head at them, and then looked behind them, at you. her big, brownish eyes scan you, her lips are slightly parted and her expression always neutral, but somewhat altered by something else, looking almost dubious or...scared?

you are the one that breaks eye contact, grabbing a pack of cigarettes that was hidden in the pocket of your jeans, going out of the party, not talking to anyone anymore. you feel too dizzy, too bothered, to even function properly, to even talk to someone without crumbling in a million pieces. you feel almost miserable, too. you have been desperately chasing something that, clearly, wasn’t meant for you.

she doesn’t love you, does she? your gaze hardens as you light up a cigarette with your lighter, looking at the emptiness of the dark night sky, the stars are barely visible and it was saddening. maybe you are like that to tara, too: barely visible, and not worth squinting her eyes for.

you are just a fainting star for her and it destroys you. when are people going to figure out you exist? you breathe, you are alive, are you not? are you dead?

you put your free hand on your chest, searching, looking desperately for the beat of your heart. as you find it you exhale loudly, and your hand becomes a clenched fist.

you feel it, why doesn’t anyone else feel it, too? you grab with force your cell phone from your pocket, scrolling through your new notifications fast, not even glancing at them with great attention. chad asked where you were, mindy called you. it meant nothing. you opened tara’s chat, scrolling up, gazing at the messages you two would send each other.

you smile bitterly, as the phone lights up your face, which was wholly taken by nostalgia.

a month ago

tara 💗: can u come over rn??

you: i don’t know, are quinn and sam around?

tara 💗: no

tara 💗: please? we needa watch the movie we talked about :)

you: alrrrr, coming

memories flash in front of your eyes, her apartment and the sweet scent of hers, the popcorns, her adorable giggles that would give you a reason to exist. you inhale deeply, your lips wrapped around the cigarette, and you almost choke on it as you hear tara’s voice.

« throw that cigarette. » direct, almost mocking, and you don’t look her way, avoiding to even acknowledge the fact she is talking to you. really a coward thing to do. you exhale the smoke, and you watch it get lost in the fresh air of the night.

as you get the cigarette’s orangish butt close to your lips, you feel a hand blocking your wrist, the other grabbing the cigarette by the white casing wrapping around the burning tobacco. you watch the youngest carpenter hurl the item on the ground, putting it out by smashing the heel of her shoe against it with great force, looking at you.

« what the fuck? » you mutter, your cheeks slightly red. is it the alcohol or her presence making you react like that? her cologne was slowly dominating the scent that the cigarette was producing, filling your nostrils, your lungs. you would exhale with great hesitation, aching for the perfume you missed for days.

you, in a rush, turn off the phone, putting it inside your pocket again. your chest feels heavy, your breathing is irregular and you can’t grasp again the control you had before checking the past messages.

« smoking is bad. » tara hisses, and you raise you eyebrows, skeptical by the reaction she has. impressed also by how smoothly she came, how you didn’t notice for not even a moment someone was lurking. you reply, your voice cracking mid-sentence, making you melt in shame: « also alcohol is bad, but i saw you drink with no shame tonight. »

« you did, too. » « so if i smash my head against the wall you’re gonna do it too? »

silence.

you take a deep breath, avoiding watching her in the eyes, you just can’t. confusion is even more marked now, and you bite your lower lip trying to take some of the frustration out of you, but it lingers still, it haunts you totally.

you feel played, like a light that gets continuously turned on and off. now she shows she cares, turning on that light, but those two weeks when the light was off? what did they mean? you can ask her, you have her right in front of you, and the alcohol, somehow, makes you bold, a brave girl confronting the cause of her fears.

« why did you disappear? why was i the first you ran away from? » you question with a shaky voice, and you see her expressionless face falter, turning into something more confusing. is the spark in her eye sadness, or something else?

silence, again. for a few moments, she just watches, as if she didn’t have a voice, as if she was trying to communicate everything telepathically to you.

then, she talks.

you see her hesitate, remain with her lips parted longer than needed, and you wonder what was she trying to cover. « why do you care? i’m here now, so. » she hints a giggle, you know tara is actively trying to ease the tension, somehow. but she’s failing, because your expression hardens more, your eyebrows furrow. « are you serious? » you almost bark.

you slowly feel the anger knock at the door of your throat, wanting to come out. still, you bottled up. still, you swallowed down the loath. you force your gaze to soften. « why do i care? how do you- shit »

you take a step ahead, turning slightly towards the nothingness that is seated beside you and making your shoulders face her for a brief moment. you cover your mouth, taking a deep breath against your palm.

« you think it’s that simple? you think it’s easy to see you walk away without saying anything? you’re my friend, i thought some bad shit happened to you. » you laugh nervously, you see guilt in her eyes as you glance at her, but also…disappointment. like she expected something more.

« fuck, i even talked to sam. you know how awkward it is. » you try to change the context of the conversation as you feel a part of you beg to let the fear out, all the worries she caused, all the paranoia you felt that kept you awake at night. the insomnia, the poignant thoughts that would keep you alarmed.

tara laughs, but it sounds fake, programmed. she slowly turns serious as she sees you not even hinting a smile. « i’m sorry, okay? i just needed space. » she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, almost painfully torturing it. you can see the regret showing, but being denied by tara herself.

« for what? what did i even do? » « nothing. » you huff, befuddled by her ways, she is making you feel like you are in an unlimited limbo. you completely lose it. some tears prick your eyes, you gaze at her almost like you wanted her dead.

« you know what? fine. » you bark, and you walk away with hasty steps, the silence from her was the strongest, most hurtful sound you could feel at this moment. the only thing covering it were your heels striking furiously the ground, until you stop.

your walk gets interrupted by a hand grabbing and squeezing your shoulder, and tara is panting. maybe you walked too rapidly, until now. you gaze at her, surprised and still confused, a tesr goes down your visage. your head is clouded, the alcohol you have inside your body isn’t helping at all.

« okay, i’ll- i’ll tell you. » she says, quietly, taking a deep breath in. you frown, her hand lingers, not letting you go, going down until it reaches your forearm, the grip tightening again, fearing you’d escape, exactly like she did. « i was���scared. » « of what? »

she freezes, looking down at the asphalt beneath your feet, tapping on your shoulder obsessively, reflecting, opening her mouth before closing it again.

a sigh. « i-i mean, you started treating me so w-well and i got- it was so- i didn’t…» « sorry, i won’t do it again. » you shrug, and she squeezes your arm painfully tight. your breath hitches, and as she notices, she lets your arm go. « it’s not what i meant. i…» she swallows hard, putting a hand on her forehead.

« it’s that after what happened…» she stops, putting her hands behind her back. oh, you know it all too well. sam talked to you about it when she felt like you were close enough to them to deserve to know, more as a warning than a demonstration of closeness

she continues: « with…amber. i can’t risk again. » she hesitates before saying her name, almost as if her name was a forbidden word, a spell, a death sentence. it held weight, but she acted like she would show up if she said her name too many times. and the umpteenth confirmation is in front of you: she looks around, looking at the empty streets, checking to see if someone is watching. if amber is watching. « but i’m not amber, tara. » you remind her, crossing your arms.

« i know, but i’m scared. y-you’re so nice and she was too- you know, you know what she was doing to me while she was b-being nice. » she says one word after the other furiously, her voice shaky and unstable, cracking, and she says everything so slowly because sobs would interrupt every word in her sentence, obstacles full of emotions.

you notice tears going down her cheeks, and it makes you wonder when she started crying. you move your hands slightly, nervously, trying to not listen to the urge you have: cup her cheeks, wipe her tears. you just couldn’t, you feel like it would be too much.

« but i don’t want anyone else to hurt you » tara barely nods, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again, her head tilted. « that’s exactly what amber used to tell me. »

you sigh, having no idea of what to do now, what to say. the young girl saves you, just by declaring something else. « besides…if you don’t kill, y-you’ll get killed. being close to me is a death sentence, really. »

« don’t say that. » you murmur, shaking your head, a shiver of pity runs through you like thunder. you hate seeing her that way. her voice is still there, but unstable. « the next one could kill you. i don’t want you to d-die. » she almost screams, holding up a hand to her neck, like she was choking on her tears. she cries, and she isn’t even able to interrupt her grief, her pointless grief that looks at the future with a negative eye. « who said there’s going to be a next one? » you ask, almost rhetorically, like it was sure the murders ended in woodsboro, and that would dare hunting down tara and sam another time.

not in my story, you think. not when there’s me. you would protect her, no matter what, and at the first suspicious murder happening close to her, you already know you would make whoever wanted to get in the way disappear, in one way or another. but you didn’t know the gravity of the situation, you never were a victim of the attacks, you have no idea how smart a ghostface killer has to be.

tara remains silent again, her silence, every time she would use it, was as bothering as a loud, earth-breaking storm.

she just sobs, and trembles, and you can’t hold back anymore. you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in a hug that you both needed, so much, and you get it, you do, because she wraps her arms around you like her life depends on it.

« it’s okay. » your lullaby of consolation makes her nod, breathing deeply between her sniffs. she tightens her grip, and you only desire to feel all of her attached to you, every limb touching yours. you feel content at the affection, but you want more, her lips looked perfect, smooth, and soft. you wondered how they would taste.

but you couldn’t fuck around and find out, not now. « i know you’re scared, but i’ll be here, okay? we’ll be fine, no matter what. just…please. please don’t run away from me again…i…i missed you, so much. » you whisper, your voice is a restless plead, and you almost break down between her arms.

« i missed you too. » « but…i’m confused, » you finally confess. she looks at you, waiting patiently for you to add context, something that can help her understand what struggle you had. you notice how she calmed down, how she doesn’t sob anymore, how very few tears would fall, compared to how much she was crying before. she looks clueless, and it made your sentence stop for a little more time than how much you programmed. is it just you who wants more?

« the days we spent together…what do they mean to you? » and the question takes a few moments to be answered, as her grip tightens around you, her eyes gazing at you rather than the emptiness of the place. strangely, no one is there, you two can hear the music of the partying flat even out of it, and it relaxes you more because you aren’t alone, you can say you need to go if you want to, if it gets too much even for you.

you wait still, and she sighs. « they’re special, obviously. » « but tara, there’s more. » you notice that as you speak and breath, cold whiteish air goes out of your mouth, losing itself in the space in front of you. is it really that cold?

« i don’t know what you mean. » she shakes her head, and you take a step back. her cheeks are flushed, her body is stiff and as she doesn’t have anything else to grab, her hands clasp roughly.

you falter, shaking your head softly. « it’s nothing. maybe i should head out, y’know, maybe mindy is still waiting f— » « no, wait. » her hands open, she shows her palms, and huffs. « i want to understand. how come there’s more? i don’t even know what that means. »

« you get incredibly close for weeks, you kiss my face, you hug me and struggle to let go, you treat me with…weird sweetness that i have never seen before, especially from you. you suddenly disappear because you’re scared that i’ll end up copying amber, then…you say that those moments are just special. that’s a meaningless reply to me— do you even care? » you vent, a hint of anger mixed with palpable confusion, and the words go out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to.

she widens slightly her eyes, raising her eyebrows. and you know she still isn’t understanding from what place you’re coming from, or maybe she understands? how confusing she is.

« what kind of question is that? i care »

you decide to go all in, your patience wearing thin, as thin as a blade of grass. « then why do you act like you’re in love with me? » you giggle nervously, maybe looking crazy in front of her eyes, maybe looking desperate. she locks eyes with you, and you go ahead and take steps towards the building, fearing her reply, fearing that everything you know is false.

« because i am, y/n » you hear her say from behind, and you turn around, frowning. you are suspecting that what you heard isn’t actually what she is trying to say, and somehow, even if you didn’t say anything, she gets it. « i said i am. »

« how did you— » « you always make that face when you’re lost. » she laughs, getting closer, and that phrase makes you hint a smile. she cups your face with her cold hands, and it makes you shiver, but somehow it feels emotionally warm. a blanket over your heart.

« so what do you think? » she whispers those words, her voice cracking with fear. you feel your cheeks gradually getting hotter and hotter, redder and redder. « i think that…i’m in love with you, too. »

you stop, and her gaze softens. yours does too. « i love you, tara. a lot. i thought you were disgusted by me or…you didn’t want me around anymore. but god, i’m so in love. » you calmly declare, her fingers brush against your cheeks softly, with tenderness.

« i could never be disgusted or change my mind about you, you’re pretty dumb. »

giggles echo in the air, and she leans in, her breaths quiver at the intimate closeness you both have now. everything fades out, and you both look at each other in need, in need for the physical contact you both are craving. she scans your face as your breaths intertwine, and then her lips found yours, after months of research.

it’s perfect, you kiss back without even thinking about it, like you were born for this: to kiss her, to have her with you. you cup one of her cheeks with your shaky palm, the touch is soft and warm, and her lips are too. no anger is held in the kiss, only the affection you both feel, gentle in its essence. your heart stumbles in its rhythm, and you fear that she can hear it beating erratically too.

she breaks the kiss hesitantly, and you don’t know how long the kiss lasted — seconds? minutes? — but it just made you even more infatuated with her. her forehead rests against yours, her brownish hues shining with satisfaction, her lips curled up in a soft smile. you can still feel those lips against yours, or maybe you simply want them to be there again.

but you’re fine, you finally are. there are things you both need to work on, but you know that, until you’ll have her, you’ll be content and wanting to be better.

« i promise i will take care of you. » you whisper, you can’t help but smile, showing your teeth.

« i will take care of you, too. »

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 lucky punch: chapter two

chapter synopsis: when zoro brought you back to nami's, he didn't expect the whole crew to be there... and it seemed your relationship with the woman to ran deeper than he thought.

cw: high school/college au, violence, underage drinking, parties, mature themes, profanity, sports, reader is on the volleyball team, zoro is in kendo, you and zoro are both seniors and eighteen, etc.

Arriving at Nami's house, Zoro pulled into the driveway with a tired sigh, scooping both you and your purse up—seeing as you were out cold— before using his spare key to open the door and carry you over the threshold.

Though, he might as well have walked into another party.

Finally inside the house, the man was quick to realize that all the usual suspects were already there, loud chattering and uproarious laughter echoing throughout the large living room, each of his friends seeming to have escaped from the same party you did.

"Namiiii! Do you have any more meat?" Luffy called from the kitchen, head buried in the fridge as he rummaged around for something else to eat.

"Stop eating all the ladies' food, you jackass!" Sanji shouted, running over and kicking the boy away from the roast he had marinading. "That's not for you!"

"I'M HUNGRY!"

"YOU JUST GOT FINISHED EATING THREE DOUBLE CHEESEBURGERS!"

"Hey, bros! Could you get me some cola while you're up?" Franky asked, mindlessly flicking through the channels on Nami's flat-screen. "I'm SUPER thirsty."

"You shoulda seen me, Robin! That cop tried to stop me and I gave him what for!" Usopp bellowed, proudly puffing out his chest from his spot on the couch. "He was all like I'm gonna need to see some ID... and I was like You can see this right here! And I flipped him off just like that!"

"Usopp, you liar!" Luffy denied, struggling against Sanji as the man tried to pry him off the fridge door. "You turned tail and left me to deal with him by myself!"

"You didn't even drink! You were fine!" Usopp scoffed, "Besides, I had to go drop off Kaya first!"

"How was she? Did she get home okay?" Robin asked with a smile, crossing her legs and resting her cheek in her palm.

"She was a little shaken up, but I got her home safe and sound!" he grinned, attention snatched away from the boys at the opportunity to talk about Kaya, a small flush rising to his neck at the memory. "She even gave me a kiss for my chivalry!"

"How romantic."

"NAMI! CHOPPER'S ATTACKING ME AGAIN!" Brook screeched, running around the couch as the small brown puppy playfully chased him, nipping at his ankles.

"Cut it out, would ya?! I'm tryna watch the game!" Franky swatted at him, attempting to look around as the Wano Samurais scored the winning touchdown against the Onigashima Beasts. "HOOOO-YEAH! MY PARLAY JUST HIT!"

"LUFFY, GET AWAY FROM THE DAMN FRIDGE!" Sanji shouted, using all of his strength to tug the boy off the handle.

"NOT UNTIL I GET SOMETHING TO EAT!"

"WILL YOU MORONS SHUT UP?! I KNEW I SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU WITH THE POLICE!" Nami shrieked, thundering down the stairs. "I told you to clear out fifteen minutes ago! We've gotta go back to Bonney's and find my friend before it's too late!"

"Is this her?"

Even though his tone was low, everyone's attention snapped over to Zoro, eyes falling to the unconscious girl in his arms, along with the comically small, brown handbag on his shoulder.

"(y/n)!" Nami gasped, shoulders dropping with relief as she ran over to you, cupping your cheek in her hand. "Is she okay?! Zoro, what happened?!"

"She's fine," he assured, walking over to the couch and laying you down in an empty section. "I found her stumbling around in the street and managed to snatch her up before she got caught. Looks like she drank more than she could handle."

"She's beautiful!" Sanji clasped his hands together, eyes practically turning to hearts at the sight of you and your outfit.

"Is this your new friend, Nami?" Luffy asked, stuffing his face with chips as he walked over, "How come you didn't tell us?" 

"I did tell you!" she exclaimed, brows furrowed. "And for the record, she's not a new friend. I've known her for way longer than I've known you."

"Wait... really?" he raised a brow.

Nami nodded, glancing at your sleeping form.

"(y/n) and I have been best friends since pre-school. We were sat right next to each other, and managed to stay in the same classes all throughout elementary," she explained, a smile on her face. "The two of us were thick as thieves, but a few years back she got recruited by some volleyball camp and left to train."

Her grin widened, practically shaking with excitement.

"But now she's back and better than ever!" she turned to Robin, happily. "And she's joining the volleyball team, Robin!"

"I'm aware," the dark-haired girl smiled. "I met her during one of our summer tournaments. She's an excellent player, and Koala absolutely loves her."

"Is she really that good?" Franky asked, intrigued.

Nami nodded, relishing the opportunity to gush about you. "Mhmm! She's nationally ranked! Number one outside hitter in the highest girls' division!"

"Woah! Then she's gotta be strong!" Luffy smirked, giddily shifting in his seat as he adjusted his tan, backwards cap. "Wake 'er up so we can arm wrestle!"

"NO!" Sanji shouted, kicking him again.

"While this is all well and good, I do suggest we get her some water," Brook chimed, concerned. "She's looking a bit flushed."

"I'll get it!~" Sanji chirped, turning around and dancing his way into the kitchen.

Zoro rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Stupid ero-cook...'

"Not only that, but shouldn't we call her parents or something? They're probably worried sick wondering where she is," Usopp added.

"She's staying with me and Nojiko until her dad comes back from business in Dressrosa," Nami assured.

"Well then, if everything's in order, I think it's time to for me to get going," Robin sighed, standing up from the couch. "I'll need to be well rested for tomorrow's match."

"WAH?! (Y/N) DRANK THIS MUCH KNOWING SHE HAD TO PLAY A GAME TOMORROW?!" Usopp exclaimed.

"Bonney drank her under the table in Shots, but (y/n) insisted on continuing. She didn't wanna forfeit the challenge," Nami facepalmed.

"SHE CHALLENGED BONNEY?!" everyone exclaimed.

"SHE'S NEW TO TOWN! GIVE HER A BREAK!"

"Well, if we're all clearing out, I guess I can take this one home," Sanji sighed, picking up Luffy by the back of his shirt like a cat.

"Ken I keepmf thaw chips?" the boy asked, muffled, as he shoved another fistful into his face, Sanji carrying him toward the door.

"Wait for me, Sanji!" Usopp called, running after the two.

"Hurry the hell up!"

"You need a ride, Robin?" Franky asked with a smirk as they both headed out as well.

"That would be lovely," she smiled, a faint pink dusting her cheeks.

"Super! I can show you the new paint job I just did on the Sunny!" he grinned—the Sunny being an old Volkswagen van he tricked out two summers back.

While you were now home safe, for some reason, Zoro didn't want to leave yet, something about you sparking his interest.

Not only was he intrigued by the rather... interesting first impression you left on him, but also by the information he just learned.

You were strong, athletic, hard-working, pretty—and kind, if Nami and Robin were friends with you.

It seemed like you had the whole package.

"Zoro, do you need a ride as well?" Brook asked, softly, snapping the green-haired man out of his thoughts.

"Nah, I brought my truck," he politely declined. "Gonna head home myself."

"I see. Then, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya then. Night, Brook."

"Wait, Zoro," Nami stopped, the man turning to her with a raised brow. "Before you go, can you give (y/n) the water Sanji brought? I'm gonna go change out of this dress."

But before he could even answer, the woman was already running up the stairs, and Brook was already out the door, leaving you and him alone in the living room.

'For Christ's sake...'

Begrudgingly, Zoro walked over to the couch, taking as seat next to your head as he lightly shook you awake.

"Oi, (y/n)," he stated, your first name sounding foreign on his tongue. "Get up. Drink some water."

Slowly, you started to stir awake, eyes fluttering as you let out a soft groan, your head feeling like it was filled with rocks.

Groggily, you sat up, squinting at the light as you swayed slightly.

'Jeez...'

"Here," he held up the glass, calloused hand coming up to cradle the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back, "Drink."

Slowly, you gulped back some of the liquid, the ice cooling your flushed skin.

In the meantime, Zoro kept his gaze fixated on you, falling hypnotized as he watched you, who somehow seemed graceful even in your sluggish state.

Exhausted, you finished drinking before dropping your head into the his shoulder, taking a moment to inhale his scent.

He smelled like a man—notes of sweat, steel, pine, and mint lingering around him.

You liked it.

"Thanks," you groaned into his skin, your sober self fighting through your sleepiness to show you had at least some manners. "I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass... You're a really nice guy..."

He let out a slight chuckle, his heart warming at your apology.

You were adorable.

"Don't worry about it," he assured, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "You need help gettin' up to your room?"

Embarrassed, you looked down at yourself, lip jutting in a pout as you gave him a weak nod.

"I got you," Zoro scooped you up once again, moving toward the steps and starting the trek to the guest room.

As he carried you up the stairs, you took the time to get a better look at the extremely hot guy holding you.

His pronounced jawline... his dark, bedroom eyes... his muscular figure... they all led your mind to thoughts of what exactly you'd do to this man if given the chance.

Noticing your eyes on him, he raised a brow, eyes glinting mischievously as he saw you blush and cower under his gaze.

'Adorable...'

Your knight in shining black tank-top carried you all the way to your room and set you down on the bed, tugging off your chunky boots before tucking you under the covers.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, and Zoro gave you one more once over before quietly exiting the room, carefully shutting the door behind himself before he turned around.

Only to be bombarded by a rather tenacious, red-haired woman...

"She's a cutie right?" Nami asked with a smirk, cutting right to the chase.

"I'm tired, Nami," Zoro sighed, rubbing the ache at the back of his neck as he stepped around her, heading toward the stairs.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that. I saw the way you were looking at her," she pressed on, trailing after him. "You liiike her~"

"I don't like anything," he corrected, flatly. "She was drunk and I helped her. That's all."

"Betchu thought about helping yourself to something else in that outfit she was wearing..."

He turned as red as a tomato, his entire face burning with embarrassment and eyes widening at the accusation.

"WHAT?! NO!"

Obviously... yes.

"Will you shut up?! You're gonna wake her!" she shushed, brows furrowed at his volume.

"What do you take me for?! I'm not some pervert like the damn love cook!"

"Alright, then! Don't get your panties in a bunch! Jeez..." Nami rolled her eyes. "Are you coming to her match tomorrow after school? I'm bringing out the whole crew to cheer her on for her first game back."

Zoro perked slightly at the offer.

It would be a chance to see you in action, and to have a conversation while sober.

"Yeah, sure, why not."

"Perfect," Nami smiled, giving him a pat on the back. "Oh, and before you leave..."

She held out her other hand, her fingers wiggling expectantly.

"My fifty dollars..."

Grumbling to himself, Zoro shoved his hands in his pockets, rummaging around and pulling out a crumpled twenty, four fives, five ripped ones, and a dollar in quarters.

"Pleasure doing business with you. See ya tomorrow!"

"Whatever..."

[cybershock24601]

The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??

Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.

Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)

Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.

Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.

Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!

Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.

The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.

Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.

Other au highlights include:

Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”

Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.

The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.

Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ i need you to fill the void ❞

# summary; someone spoils your secret

# playlist; void, the neighbourhood, nothing's gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex.

# word count; 1.2k

# note; freya, faith, and talia cameo, I didn't proofread and I hate this oops.

Have a wedding they said, it'll be fun they said. You can't name a time when you've been this stressed out and anxious in all your years of living. To make it even worse, the one person who could help you breathe through all of this wasn't going to able to see you for another three and a half hours.

Last night, for the sake of tradition, you slept without George for the first time in more than a year. He texted you about a thousand times after you finally fell asleep about how he couldn't wait to be tied to you for the rest of your lives, which meant you woke up in the best of moods despite the lack of his presence.

Keeping everything a secret wasn't hard, since everyone had done it before for Simon and Talia. Unfortunately, some people you thought you could trust with an invitation weren't the most reliable. Your friends were sat off to the side some snapping pictures of you and themselves, others scrolling social media. Freya gasps, she's unable to control the way her lips purse, and brows crease as she turns the volume of her phone down as quick as possible.

You're sat in a chair, your makeup artist hard at work. "Something wrong?" In the blink of an eye, the girls are all standing around Freya, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Talia chews at her bottom lip before speaking, "Y/N, sweetheart, I'm gonna show you something, but I want you to try not to freak out."

You swear you feel your throat begin to close at the slight waver in her voice, now it's your turn for your brows to knit together, "I'll try," you mumble, absentmindedly picking at your manicure.

She makes her way to you as slow as ever with Freya in tow with her phone, which she hands off to you after turning the volume back up, swiping up and back to the video to restart it. You recognize the username as a girl George had introduced you to a few months ago at the sidemen's anniversary party, you don't recall sending her an invitation...

The video begins with a screech from her, "Hi, guys! This get-ready with me is extra special, this time my friend George is getting married," you feel your stomach drop, cheeks warming as she talks about only being a plus one to someone whose name goes in one ear and straight out the other.

"This better be a fuckin' joke," bile begins to rise in your throat and tears threaten to melt away every bit of the 45 minutes spent on your nearly Pinterest-perfect makeup. When you click on the comments you notice there are some from mere seconds ago and steadily continue to pour in, you shake your head hoping someone will pinch you and wake you from this atrocious nightmare, "God, I really wish this was a joke," you whisper, your bottom lip trembling uncontrollably.

You look up at the girls around you as you slowly start to crumble under the weight of it all. Faith is typing away furiously, jamming her fingers against her phone screen, you hand Freya her phone back, wordlessly reaching for your own that was laying screen down on the vanity.

When the screen comes to life you see messages, notifications from dms, posts, and tweets you've been tagged in. Nothing really catches your eye aside from two missed calls from George and a few texts just under them.

my fiance 😝😈: call me when you see this please, darling

And you did exactly that. He answers on the first ring, his soft, accented voice filling your ear ripping another sob from your throat, "Y'alright, love?" He asks knowing the answer, hoping to god you weren't on tiktok to see what he'd seen a few minutes ago, but as you cry into the speaker he understands you have.

You shake your head, before remembering that he can't see your actions, "No," you croak, making him sigh and shake his head. This is your day and somehow someone's managed to ruin it for you.

To be completely honest, George couldn't care less about everything being secret, but all you wanted through the whole planning process was privacy, no huge party after the ceremony, nothing.

You didn't want to post anything until you were boarding the plane for your well-deserved nearly three-week honeymoon. And your fiance was more than happy to oblige.

"Can you come here? Please, I couldn't give two fucks about tradition, we're fuckin' tiktokers for god's sake." you pause a second until you hear shuffling on his end, followed by a snort. "I'm already outside, baby," you hear the smile in his voice, you keep your phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder.

When the door swings open, he's standing there looking so damn good in the suit you picked out together so many months ago and it makes you cry even harder, knowing how much of a snotty mess you probably look now all because everything not going the way you imagined.

He wraps you into his arms before you're able to say anything, breathing you in. "You look beautiful," he steps back from you keeping a comforting hand on your hip as he looks you up in down, "this satin?" He asks pinching at the material of your dressing gown, to which you simply nod, your throat still feeling tight.

Of course, he notices how much everything's eating you alive, "I handled it, sweetheart. I figured out who invited her, they know we don't think its a good idea for her to come," he gives you a reassuring squeeze, watching your face closely for any change of expression.

You pursed your lips taking a deep breath through your nose, "Thank you, I missed you so much," he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, instead of responding immediately, he chose to envelope you into his arms. Your ear is pressed against his chest so close you can hear his heart thumping against his ribcage, "Missed you more, could hardly sleep without you."

This time when he pulls away, his hands cup your face, and his lips meet yours in what you swear is the best kiss you've ever had, he doesn't keep you like that for as long as you'd like, leaving you chasing after the feeling. He rests his forehead against yours and his hand slips from your cheek to your neck where he feels your pulse quicken.

He breathes you in, this time stepping back for real knowing the girls are waiting for you, "Now go get in the dress I've been hearing about for months, wanna hurry up and make you mine for life."

You smile, the first real one you've worn since reading his messages this morning, "So impatient," you mutter and he shakes his head, swatting at your bum, "I can show you impatient," he quirks a brow, his voice is laced with suggestiveness that's unmistakable

"Later," he raises his hands in surrender as you turn back to the door that's ajar, his hand catches your wrist, turning you around quicker than you could let a gasp escape you. His lips find yours once more and you exhale out of your nose, relaxing against him as he smiles against your mouth. "Now you're free to go," your fingers dance along your now tingling lips, as you watch him disappear down the hallway,

When you return to the girls you almost have forgotten the original situation at hand aside from the fact that maybe every little thing about him is the best.

[samsalami66]

Hiii Ssammyy! @embroiderling here!

I've just seen you posted that long list of prompts. Can I ask for a fake marriage/relationship dreamling, with the prompt "kiss me while everyone's looking."?

🫶

Hey there @embroiderling! Have this little fic I definitely didn't write just after I got that prompt... <33

Read here or on ao3!

Dream wasn’t entirely sure what led him to the situation he was currently in; running down the streets of Los Angeles like he was chased by the devil. Perhaps it had all started when he met Hob Gadling on the set of his latest show, witty and charismatic and throwing him smiles that would light up the entire room. Or it had been when Dream found himself smiling back, accepting the easy friendship Hob proposed for them and meeting him outside of filming for drinks and movie night and sleepovers at his home spent trading stories and a glass of wine.

But actually, it had probably been the moment Dream agreed to Hob’s insane plan of marrying him. 

Yeah, they probably skipped a few rather important steps right there, between friendship and marriage, but that was not really the problem they were facing. No, the fact that they were two of the most well-known actors in the industry that married for something as crude as a green card was not really the problem. The fact that they had both been married before, that Hob was a widower and Dream divorced, was also not it. 

The problem was that being married to Hob was easy. Too easy. Marriage with Calliope had been… harder. They had both been characters, stubborn and intense and with a temper to match. For Dream, marriage had always been about damage control, about preventing some inevitable argument or other. But eventually they would always end up yelling or crying or hurting each other, before doing it all over again the next day. 

Marriage with someone Dream had never intended to marry, had not even found himself interested in at first, should have been worse. 

Instead, marriage with Hob Gadling was heavenly. They lived together. Shared a bed. Hob did not mind Dream cuddling up to him to steal some of his body heat. They would read together on the couch, then talk about their current books while they made dinner. When Dream complained about the laundry needing to get done, Hob would do it and not allow him to help. He would come back with a pot of tea and the offer of a massage should Dream’s feet or back or neck hurt from acting all day. 

Dream found himself searching Hob’s touch whenever he could and never being denied. When out on his own he would see something and bring it back home for Hob and receive the world’s biggest smile in return. So he did it again. And again. Their living room was overloaded with antiquities and books and little trinkets, all lovingly displayed. 

And they never fought. Over a year of living together, of sharing a house, a room, a bed, a life, and they did not fight once. How could life with Hob be so good, when Dream’s entire life before hadn’t been? 

Well, the answer should have been clear. But for some reason, Dream hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed, and now Hob was gone. Not gone gone, just. Gone. His friend, his husband, was gone from their home and Dream did not know where he had disappeared to after their… disagreement. It hadn't been a fight. Because in a fight, both parties got angry. In a fight, partners tried to hurt each other after they had been hurt first. But Dream hadn’t been hurt by Hob. Hob would never hurt him, not in a million lifetimes. Instead, he hurt his friend for no reason but his own stupidity and insecurity. 

And now… now he was running. Not away. He was running towards Hob. Or at least he hoped so. Finding his husband was a much harder matter than Dream had hoped for when he started running. But he was getting closer, he was sure of it. Their bench. That would be where Hob was. Sitting on the right side, peas in hand, feeding the pigeons. It had been one of Dream’s favourite rituals. Whenever a role got to him too much, twisted his stomach into knots and left his heart aching, he would sit on that bench and feed the pigeons. 

And now, as Dream turned the corner, he saw his husband sitting in the spot he had claimed when he had first joined Dream in this little ritual of his. Those beautiful brown eyes were staring off into the middle distance, while one of his hands threw peas to a flock of birds and the other turned his wedding ring around between his fingers. 

The sight made Dream’s heart ache, his best friend reduced to nothing but numbness. He had done that, and he would make it right again. 

“Hob,” he called once he was close enough to be heard, and his husband’s eyes immediately snapped towards him. There was surprise there, possibly at the sheen of sweat that plastered Dream’s hair to his face, proof that he ran all the way here. Not that he stopped just because he found Hob. No, he ran straight into his husband’s arms, which wrapped around him all too willingly. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, love? Are you alright?” The words ached, because Dream was not worth this level of care after how he had hurt Hob. But now that he wasn’t running anymore he couldn’t breathe, and so he allowed his husband to hold him for a moment, just until he could form an actual response. 

“I am sorry, Hob. For what I said.” There was no answer and Dream supposed that none could be given anyway, and so he continued. “I had not realised how… deep your affections for me were. I. I expected some catch, for I had not known marriage could be so wonderful.” 

There was pain in Hob’s eyes and Dream suspected it was not because of him, but rather for him. 

“And here I was, thinking I’ve been rather bloody obvious.” 

Dream huffed a laugh and took Hob’s hand in his, so that their wedding bands were resting against each other. “Looking back, I wonder how you ever became an actor.” That, at least, got him a grin. “I do not want to leave you. Not when the five years are over, not ever. You’re it, Hob.” Silence, stunned, but there was also a bud of hope that was threatening to spill into a smile so bright it would break Dream clean in two. 

“So kiss me now, husband mine, while everyone in this blasted park is looking.” 

[ichangedmycornyahhname]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧

Warnings: Contains smut, smoking, drinking, and Eren. Pretty much a smut for Eren because..why not?

No, of course you didn’t care about what other people think. That’d be foolish. Yet, here you were. Avoiding the man who —moments earlier— had you in the back of his car. Eren Jaeger was well known at your college, hence why you were so on the fence about being seen with him. But who could really blame you? He didn’t have the best reputation.

You knew Eren. He wasn’t a complete and total idiot. In fact, in many ways he was brilliant. People only forgot about that part because of his dealings with drugs. Ok, yeah. You were involved with a dealer. A hot dealer who always managed to persuade you into his car. It always started as a smoke sesh. And somehow his pretty green eyes and a few sweet words had you in the backseat crying his name.

Despite the pleasure he provided, it always ended in a heated argument. Someone brings up a real relationship, or asks what they are, and you stop talking for weeks. Such as now. Things had ended poorly, and yes, he had called you out on your embarrassment towards being seen with him. And now, you were praying you wouldn’t have to see him at the party you were going to tonight.

“Earth to Y/N.” Ymir snaps you out of your thoughts as she nudges you forward.

Your heels hit the pavement, which slowly transitions into wood flooring. You’re immediately hit with the scent of weed and..whatever the other smell was. It was typical of the frat house, especially when Jean was hosting. He knew how to host a good party, and you always seemed to be on the invite list. Though you’re starting to think it’s because he wants to crush.

“Shit, I didn’t think there would be so many people here.” She shout over the music as Ymir enters behind you.

In response you receive a measly nod as the brunettes eyes wander around the house. With so many dancing bodies, it seemed impossible to find anyone. Yet, you were already being ditched. Your friend had spotted a certain short blonde in the waves of people.

Welp, time to get a drink. You think to yourself as you drift through the crowds. Heading towards the coolers in the corner of the room, right before the hallway. As you finally arrive to the cooler, a hand briefly finds the small of your back. Giving you a slight squeeze.

With a cheeky grin, Jean says, “Ya made it. Glad you could.”

Of course, who else would it be? With a smile you reply, “Of course. I always do.” You grab a beer, and begin to chat with Jean.

You’re close, his eyes occasionally traversing your form. Its obvious. So so obvious. Yet, you get a bit flustered from it. That look. It was so sexy, it almost reminded you of Eren. Eren—? Okay, that’s not hot. Or maybe it is? You weren’t quite sure how to feel. And— oh— speak of the devil. Your eyes peer over Jeans shoulder, spotting that familiar black leather jacket. That tall form, messy bun, sleepy gaze. It was odd how your stomach tightened at the sight of him. Eren always managed to do that to her, but it seemed worse than usual today. Maybe it was because he had his hand around her throat only a few hours ago. Fuck. Was it always this hot?

Your attention is soon reverted back to Jean, who’s leaning closer. “You look good in that dress.” His breath tickles your ear as he leans in. You laugh, softly.

“You’re sweet.” You return despite your eyes drifting back to Eren. God, he looked good tonight. You bet he smelled good too. And— who the fuck is that?

For a moment, you feel your hand tighten around the beer can in your hand. Your glare fixated on the bitch who was dancing with Eren. Her dumb black hair, and perfect body. But you guys weren’t together, so why did it matter? Why did it matter that seeing Eren dance with another girl..irked you? Maybe it was the fact that he was giving her the look he gives you. Or the way his hands caressed her back. Or maybe— you swallow as your gaze locks with his. You feel that hint of anger. That pettiness he always held with him. What an ass. At the sight of you, he seems to pull the girl closer. His hands resting on her waist.

Fine then, two can play that game. He wants to go tit for tat? You can go tit for tat. Your eyes avert back to Jean, locking with his. You get on your tippy toes, a hand finding Jean’s broad shoulder as your lips tickle his ear. “I’m glad you invited me.” You say sweetly.

It almost seems instant, the way Jean’s hand finds your hip, pulling you against him. “Of course, couldn’t go the whole night without your pretty face.” Okay, he was a bit corny. So what? The look of pure jealously on Eren’s face made it worth it. And— oh— was he walking over? That look on his face. Anger. God, the way his brows furrowed and his eyes fixed on you was heart stopping. You subconsciously pull away from Jean, your eyes on Eren’s approaching form.

“We’re leaving.” His hand finds yours, tugging you away from Jean, who sports a look of disbelief. He almost seemed as shocked as the girl Eren had left behind. You flash a smug look at her as you allow Eren to pull you to the front yard. Where, behind a line of cars, his car sat. It was all flooding back. The feeling of his breath on your neck. His hands forcing you to do what he wants. You swallows with anticipation.

“Say it again.” His voice is now and demanding as his hand grips your throat. Firm, rough, and so fucking mean. The backseat had grown stuffy from the heat of you two. The leather of his seats stuck to your skin as he kept you pinned to the chair. You’d seen him angry, but jealous? And like this? Fuck, you almost wanted to do it more often. Plapping fills the car each time he collides with you. The head of his cock nestling itself right against your cervix with every mean thrust.

You’re squealing, your nails grasping at his huge biceps as he fucks into you like an animal. “I’m yours!” You cry after he lands a slap on your thigh. Despite the sting, you found yourself growing more aroused. Your pretty cunt continuing to leak onto his big angry cock. You could feel him. All of him. The way his balls slapped against your ass, the way his dick curved up and hit all the right spots. And fuck, the way he muttered degrading praise into your ear as he nibbled at your delicate skin.

“That’s my girl. Always a good whore for me.” He groans against your neck as he speeds up. And fuck was that doing you in. Your hands quickly find his back, nails digging crescents into his skin as he fucks into you.

“Fuck yes! M’cumming—!” Your voice is shrill with pleasure as your legs tense. Your feet hitting the car door as they extend. Oh, but he wasn’t done. Swiftly, he removes his cock. A hiss leaving the both of you. Though his is quickly muffled as his tongue swirls around your clit. He spits and slurps, sucking at your already sensitive pussy. His strong arms had your thighs together, your legs trembling as you attempted to push his head away. You were cumming. Your clit throbbing as juices spill onto his face.

It was almost like torture, the way his cool metal tongue piercing kept lapping at your clit. Sucking at it until you began to push his head. Only earning a smack on the ass in response. You were already on your third orgasm, and he wasn’t anywhere near finished. Fuck. Fuck it was too much. “Wait— m’sorry.” You blubber out as you wriggle beneath him. Only receiving more fervent slurps. You want to cry, the heat in your core growing to be too much. And it seems he’s pulling back. A strings of saliva connecting him and your pretty pussy. She’s so tired, he knows this. Yet, here he is. Flipping you over onto your stomach so that he can eat it from the back.

He’s quick to bury his face into your pussy. His hands squeezing and molding your ass as he digs his nose against your cunt. You’re so good. So pretty, and his. This was only a lesson.

“Oh fuck..” You groan out as drool leaves your lips. Dribbling onto the seat that was smushed against your cheek as you laid there and took it. He was a bully. A hot fucking bully.

He eats you out like a starved man. Nasty noises leaving, orgasm after orgasm causing your juices to make a mess on his seats. He kept going, until finally he stops. His jaw was tired, and you were seeing stars. “You’re mine. Don’t ever pull a fucking stunt like that again.” He grunts out firmly as he plants a final smack to your plump ass.

(Jealous Eren is hot.)