#and john is like ‘tall dark and angry can’t come to the phone right now’ which made me laugh HDJSJSKSKS

[sosaysdean]

How was the episode?

hiii. I actually really liked this one

[jeongi]

caught me. | jjk (m)

(edit done by my love, @httpjeon)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jungkook x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 13.5k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | roommate au. slight e2l au. smut. porn with very little plot.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. mentions of vaping. mutual masturbation, sex toy usage, oral sex (f + m receiving), gagging, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, some wall fucking, riding, unprotected sex (you know the drill, wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, jungkook has tattoos, long wavy hair and a giant schlong.

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you hate your temporary roommate, jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.

“Seokjin, how could you do this to me?” You whine from the kitchen island, reflexively stabbing at the bowl of cereal in front of you. You can’t believe your roommate is just now telling you, a day before he leaves for vacation, that his “friend” will be temporarily moving in while he’s away. Of course, Seokjin pays no mind to your tantrum. Instead, he continues packing the last of his luggage in the living space, across the room. Simply rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh in response, he’s far more acquainted with your antics than he’d like to be. He could almost call you the younger sibling he most certainly never wanted, a nuisance wrapped in feigned misery. The arrangement between the two of you seemed nothing more than the result of a last-ditch Craigslist roommate search.

He should have known the consequences, he supposes.

Another sigh escapes his lips as he turns his attention away from the luggage. “_____, I’m only leaving for three months.”

You wail again, this time, your arms stretching across the cool, granite counter to push the bowl away from yourself. You’ve wholly lost your appetite, ready to wreak havoc as you slide off the stool you’re sat on and stomp your way over to him.

“I don’t care about you leaving me!” Seokjin scoffs at this statement, returning his focus to the open suitcase laid on the floor in front of him. “I care about you stuffing me in this apartment with a complete stranger while you’re gone.” What was the fucker’s name again? Jon Q, John Cook? You’re furious, but of course, Seokjin fails to take notice of this. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone and scrolls through his extensive list of items to pack. He’s only gotten through half of it.

Your words don’t seem to have much of an impact on him, fueling your fury. “What if he tries to murder me? Or even worse, what if I end up murdering him? You won’t even be here to help me hide the body— this is a travesty!” This is followed with another signature sigh, all drama, your wrist shooting up to your forehead as you dab at invisible sweat.

You briefly think you might actually hate Seokjin.

He pauses, dropping his phone into the open luggage before craning his head towards you. Blinking, purely baffled by the lunacy he has to constantly put up with, he internally gives his utmost gratitude to the heavens that his work has sent him on this European trip tomorrow. Three clean months of the peaceful canals of Venice, the Colosseum in Rome, the Eiffel Tower in Paris and most importantly, three lovely quiet months away from you. Suddenly, three months no longer seems an eternity to him. How could it? He assesses you top to bottom, seeing nothing more than a rabid young woman scorned, hands placed sternly on her hips, expectant of a reply.

No sir, three months is not long enough at all.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut as he speaks through gritted teeth. “You are the most melodramatic person I know— you think you can afford to pay my rent for the next three months?” This shuts you up momentarily.

For a moment, you’re disarmed. You can’t argue that he’s right, and you hate admitting it’s the only reason for your new (temporary) roommate.

Releasing his nose, he looks at you, warming a little. “Look, he asked to stay here -temporarily- until he finds his own place. He’s my best friend; wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

That final bit had the effect he wanted it to, and boy, did it sting. Of course, you’d do the same for your best friend. The only trouble is that you know very little information about this John Cook character, only getting brief details about him moving into the big city for the first time and Seokjin “graciously” providing him a rental until he can find something more permanent. It isn’t a fault on Seokjin’s half. You just don’t know the poor bastard.

Beyond that, you know this guy is a Taekwondoin, moving here to join one of the most prestigious Taekwondo academies in the country. Your blood runs cold in a sudden rush, a certain grim realization dawning on you that you’d absolutely be no match for him if he did try to kill you. Perhaps Seokjin has told you so late because he too wants you dead. You really shouldn’t have met him through Craiglist.

You consider leaving a lengthy, final Tumblr post in remembrance of your inevitable end, hoping one of your 12 followers would come forth and save you from a gruesome slashing. At best, someone saves your life. At worst, you’ve written your own eulogy.

Huffing a breath of frustration, something akin to a groan escapes you as you march back to the kitchen island for your now soggy bowl of cereal. It only fuels your now quiet rage further, but pettiness takes over, mentally muting Seokjin’s yelling profanities after watching you dispose of one of his favourite glass bowls. It’s the least you can do as revenge.

As it turns out, Jeon Jungkook is a nearly six feet tall mural of muscle and inked skin that rarely stays home. His dark wavy hair falls gracefully past his large doe eyes, and his plethora of tattoos litter the tight expanse of his neck and arms. Notably, the blossom of two red roses painted over the porcelain of his neck.

Though verbally a silent roommate, you find he vapes far too much and equally plays far too much Fortnite at odd hours of the night. He only comes out of his room to either make himself food or to leave the apartment, and a couple of times you could have almost sworn he might’ve been doing his laundry. He’s a feast to lay eyes on, that much is irrefutable but he leaves at least one utensil unwashed after eating, irritating you to an unprecedented degree.

Jungkook also enjoys eating ramen at two in the morning- you know this because it wakes you up almost every time you hear the microwave blare its oppressive siren. He also figures he must shower each time he returns home from being out, suitably fattening your poor water bill. You’ve only briefly spoken to him a handful of times, mostly about house rules and a tour of the facilities.

It’s only been two weeks since he’s arrived, yet you already seem to despise him- sending Seokjin angry messages from across the globe about this, all of which have been ignored. You’ve been too busy lately anyway, rarely seeing Jungkook who seems to be out for most of the day.

However, it’s today that you finally catch him when you’re just coming home from work. He sits at the kitchen island, flipping through a comic while he loudly chomps on an open bag of shrimp chips, pausing to look at you as you make your way inside.

You’re on speakerphone with your friend Nari, both of your arms too occupied and laden with groceries to normally hold the phone to your ear. Upon seeing this, Jungkook gets up from his seat and immediately rushes to lend a hand. He’s completely shirtless, his loose dark sweatpants hugging the low subtle curve of his hips, and it’s only then that you notice the mosaic of more tattoos scattered across his skin beyond his full sleeves and the two red roses on his neck. He has much more than you had initially seen, a large black and white snake running over his pelvic bone. It draws your eyes forward, let’s it linger over to his bare abdomen, untouched with ink and defined with muscle. You can see it evidently, the indents carved into him as if he’s been sculpted from the finest of limestone.

You catch yourself from staring, thanking him with a silent bow of your head as he turns away from you, all the bags of groceries now racked effortlessly down his taut arms. Your momentary and involuntary ogling is cut short by Nari’s voice booming through the loudspeaker of your phone.

“God, you really need to get laid soon- I’m tired of you being so grumpy.” You freeze, nearly choking on your own saliva. “I already deal with one grump on a daily, I don’t need to add another to my inventory.”

Fuck. “Yeah, well, working on it!” You titter nervously into the microphone. It’s all in vain, for Nari is relentless in her pursuits.

“Didn’t you say your new roommate was hot? Just fuck him, that’d be pretty convenient. It’s like, like...dick-on-demand!” She laughs, guffawing into the mic as though it’s the most hilarious thing she has ever said. You stand there, eyes wide and mortified as the cackle from the other end of the line sounds more villainous than genuine humour. Her words linger still in the air, and a very deep desire to Crtl+Z yourself from life’s current existence fills your petrified body.

You know Jungkook has heard the words because he pauses in his step very briefly, faint stutters in his movement as his back stays turned towards you. Before you catch the slightest motion of his head about to look over his shoulder, you’re whipping around and fumbling for your phone. With the greatest deft you can muster, your thumbs desperately try smashing the giant red ‘end call’ button.

To no avail, the phone screen freezes, Nari’s cackling report still filing through.

You think this feels like a nightmare. In fact, you’re certain you’ve had a nightmare precisely like this before. Except this is real, very much real and you’re humiliated. cheeks surely flushed crimson as you tut in annoyance at your malfunctioning product of capitalism.

Jungkook simply clears his throat and continues moving towards the kitchen once again, acting as if nothing has happened. Under any other circumstances, you would almost be offended, but given the current nature of what has just transpired, you both let the feeling pass. “Anyway,” Nari continues and you wish she’d shut up. “I gotta go, Yoongi just got Minecraft and I’m going to give him the best head of his life,” she groans into the mic in satisfaction. “I love you, bye!” She cuts the mic, completely and blissfully unaware of the impending Armageddon she’s inadvertently spawned. You’re stood there in horrified silence, counting to five in your head before you’re very anxiously swivelling around.

You open your mouth to say something, but words fail you. What could you even say?

Jungkook cuts in. “I’ll uh, put these away. Don’t worry about it.” He beams you a rather charming grin, completely devoid of any awkward tension that filled the air moments ago. Somehow, this surprises you far more than if he had acknowledged it.

You thank him with haste, your feet acting much quicker than your head as you swiftly cut across the kitchen towards the hallway where your bedroom stands. Avoiding eye contact at all costs, your face is surely now painted just as red as Jungkook’s bag of shrimp chips on the counter.

Perhaps it’s to ease yourself more than anything that you decide to get angry over this situation. You’re not angry at Nari, no, you’re angry at Jungkook. Who was he to waltz into your apartment and have you monitor your phone calls? And be shirtless nonetheless? Had he no manners? Why should you have to tiptoe around him? You think if this were Seokjin, he wouldn’t nearly make everything so uncomfortable for you in your own place of living. Seokjin would also wash all his dishes and sleep at a reasonable time. This thought only fuels you more.

The words slip out of you before you can even comprehend stopping. “For Christ’s sake wear a shirt while I’m home, I don’t need to see you prancing half naked around the apartment. This isn’t Magic Mike, it’s home- my home.” You bark, halting Jungkook in his movements as he goes to place a new carton of milk into the fridge. He turns to look at you, the dangle of his silver earrings glinting against the light and you almost grimace at how attractive he looks in this moment.

Before he can respond, you’re pivoting away from him and walking towards your bedroom.

You slam your door with a thud and let out a strangled groan. Perhaps it was too harsh, the anger is now replaced with further distress. You toss yourself onto your mattress, stuffing your face into the nearest pillow and restraining yourself with every ounce of self-control you have from screaming your lungs out into it.

You hadn’t even called Jungkook hot, you had mentioned that he was conventionally attractive- which wasn’t a lie in the slightest. You’re half tempted to call her back and scold her good for the humiliation she’s so blissfully unaware of causing, but as you pick up your phone, a text flashes across your screen with a name you’re all too familiar with. And all too soon, your agitation grinds to a halt, dissipates and metamorphosizes into a goofy, toothy grin.

Taehyung - [1 New Text Message]

Kim Taehyung works just across the room from you on the seventh floor of the accounting firm. He has rich blonde hair and plump pink lips that he constantly wets with a dab of his tongue. You swear he’s been purposely winding you up recently, the brushes against your skin too frequent, the lingering stares too prolonged and the husk in his voice too low when he speaks to you. You’ve had a crush on Taehyung since you’ve started working at the firm, two years ago. Of course, he’s completely unaware of this.

5:44pm [Taehyung]: Hey, can I ask you for a favour?

The squeal you let out is unbearable, even to you. You feel the reminiscence of being back in middle school when your sixth-grade crush, Park Jimin had asked you to the Halloween dance. Of course, that night had ended terribly for you, catching Jimin and your rival, Sooya slow dancing while you went to get unnaturally lukewarm fruit punch from the snack bar. But much like right now, you remember the butterflies fluttering through your entire body the night before the dance.

Feeling the crimson warmth return to your cheeks, you clutch your phone to your chest while a coy smile stretches across your lips. You practice your well-rehearsed, five-minute wait before texting Taehyung back, typing and retyping your response until you’re satisfied with a legible reply. Pursing your lips, you go back and forth between adding a smiley face or not, ultimately choosing to go with one just to further the delusions in your head that adding one will somehow make him fall madly in love with you.

5:50pm [You]: of course you can! :)

You gasp when your phone vibrates within seconds, a giddy coo leaving you as his name flashes once more across your screen. You slap a hand over your mouth when you hear the footsteps of Jungkook pass by your door, your eyes darting towards the shadow of his feet seen just underneath the crack of your door. His room- rather Seokjin’s room- is right next door to yours, another unfortunate occurrence in your miserable life.

5:50pm [Taehyung]: Could you possibly drop me off at the airport tomorrow morning? I’ll treat you to breakfast on the way!!

Your grin grows tenfold, your teeth clutching your bottom lip in its hold as you glide your fingers over the keyboard with an answer.

5:52pm [You]: it’d be my pleasure!!

It seems as if everyone but you and Jungkook were going away on vacation from this hell city. Perhaps you may be in need of one too.  

You drop Taehyung off at the airport at five in the morning. You think it should be illegal for anyone to wake up at such an hour. You hadn’t had much time to sleep, Jungkook’s nightly ramen snacking occurring at exactly two in the morning, just two hours before you were supposed to be awoken by the chirps of your alarm. As if the morning couldn’t have gotten any worse, you had learned Taehyung was travelling abroad to meet his very long-term and long-distance girlfriend for the first time. Your luck seems to have worsened as you’ve aged. All the signs you thought you’d seen of him visibly showing his interest in you had all been in your head.

By the time you reach home, it’s six, the sun barely peeking through the hillside view from your apartment and your eyes are droopy, heavy with sleep. A yawn escapes you as you place your keys on the kitchen counter before you kick off your shoes and shuffle towards the living room in a slump. You plop onto the couch, releasing a long exhale as you lift your feet up to lay more comfortably.

Briefly, you think you should stay up and get your day started, as you reckon most people who have their shit together would do as such. Unfortunately for your itinerary, you’re not most people and you’re certainly not someone who has their shit together. You’re _____ and you’re now dreaming, dreaming of a single Kim Taehyung.

His mouth is on yours, golden locks under the tight grip of your fingers and his cock is steadily rocking into you, fingers digging into your sides. He has you seated on the bathroom counter, your legs circled around his waist as his sharp thrusts elicit the neediest of cries from you.

“Taehyung!” You’re moaning, eyes rolled so far back into your skull, you feel the pull of your optic nerve. Loosening your grip on Taehyung’s hair, he moves away from your mouth and rests his forehead in the crook of your neck. Every curve of his dick plunges in calculated fashion into your cunt, egging you closer to your undoing.

Another sharp thrust has your entire body shuddering, a lapse of jitters filling you as your orgasm rumbles through you. When Taehyung lifts his head from the crook of your neck, you gasp. For when you look at his face, it’s no longer Taehyung, it’s now Jungkook.

He offers a lopsided smirk, an indent of his dimple forming around the right side of his mouth while a finger trails down your cheek.

“Wake up,” the apparition whispers.

You gasp awake, spine shooting upright as you heave heavy breaths. Skimming your hands over your face, you let out a frustrated groan, bewilderment and daze hitting you as you land right back to reality.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You hear a low voice and you immediately shriek, arms hugging yourself in a mock attempt to hide yourself even if you are fully clothed at the moment. You look over, glancing at the tall, frozen figure stood in the kitchen. His doe eyes are wide, startled by your reaction, dark hair wavy and long, clinging around the edge of his pale face and you can see the faintest trace of the red ink on his neck underneath the loose collar of his black hoodie. He’s got a knife in one hand and a half-cut tomato laid on a cutting board in front of him. “I-I was going to wake you up for lunch but…” His face has suddenly flushed to a shade of rose, tongue swiftly dabbing at his bottom lip. He clears his throat and hesitates before looking away. “Y-you seemed engrossed in your sleep, I didn’t want to wake you up.” What was that supposed to mean?

When you look behind him, the pot on the stove is steaming and it’s then that you catch the aroma of sauteed onions and oregano. Naturally, your mouth instantly waters, eyes glancing over to the digital clock that displays itself on the stove. It reads as five minutes past noon and you rub your eyes with the back of your hand before you’re blinking towards the time again. Had you really passed out for a solid six hours? How long had Jungkook been here? “You...don’t have work today?” You swallow, slowly raising up your feet.

Jungkook merely chuckles and shakes his head no. The silver of his dangling earrings swings with this motion. “I’m not working yet, I’m a student at Master Seong’s.” You had almost forgotten about the Taekwondo Academy, it’s the exact reason he’s now standing here in your kitchen cutting tomatoes. “Hopefully, I’ll be the one teaching by next year.” As he speaks, you notice he has a perfect set of pearly whites but then you think of course he does- anything that would make Jeon Jungkook less perfect at this point would be a micropenis. For whatever reason, that makes your blood boil but as much as you’re in disdain, the thought instantly brings attention to a sweltering puddle between your legs.

Your head shoots down, feet shifting uncomfortably as you feel a slick cling against your panties and it’s then that every aspect of your sex dream hits you in a movie montage. You had fully and wholeheartedly dreamt of Jungkook fucking you.

You gasp, unwillingly, feet losing balance before you catch yourself against the counter. Jungkook pauses and looks at you, a tentative eyebrow cocking in your direction in question.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, more curious than considerate. His voice seems to ebb and flow with the sultry ease that only he could— my god, maybe you do need to get laid.

You use your elbows to push yourself off the counter before you’re walking over to the stove, body brushing against Jungkook’s back as you reach for the vent switch.

“Next time you cook something, turn on the exhaust fan or else it’ll get smokey in here.” You say, voice stoic like ice in this smothering heat, ignoring the blatant arousal seeping out of your cunt. You brush past him once more to make way towards the hallway.

Jungkook sighs in defeat, watching as your figure disappears into your bedroom.

The moth outside your window bats against the patio light with a fierce determination that boggles your mind. You wonder what might be going through the moth’s head: does it ponder this alien, man-made warmth it now feverishly flutters around? Does it understand it in the slightest? Why else would such a simple creature be breaking the peace of a sticky midsummer’s eve?

You glance at the clock on your dresser. It’s now half past midnight, and you’re dying in this stupid heat. Perhaps it didn’t help that you had a six-hour nap, impressed by your ability to do so in broad daylight. And you can’t get it out of your head, the dream. It’s kept you horny all day- in need of relief. You think about the last time you’ve had sex, a one night stand with a tall, polite gentleman named Namjoon. It was quite possibly the best sex you’ve ever had, a shame you never caught his number.

With a less than pathetic groan of protest, you put your head between the pillow and the mattress, savouring the seconds of coolness that surround your head in a desperate bid to lower the temperature however you can. Something’s got to be better than stringing sex and a fucking invertebrate into the same train of thought this late at night.

Raising your head up from the pillow, you weigh your options. You’re not about to drink yourself to sleep, and your secret supply of ZzzQuil has run dry. Fortunately, you have a solution.

It’s nights like tonight that you can’t hold yourself back, orgasms helped you sleep better anyway. Your vibrator mocks you, blinking as it charges for the first time in weeks. You hear Jungkook shuffle on the other side of the room, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you quietly reach your bedside table for a pair of headphones. You grasp at odds and ends until your fingers find purchase, and with a small sense of victory, you pull a very tangled mess of headphones from the drawer. You hear a cough on the other side and pause, gulping as if you’re fourteen all over again and just discovered the fruits of pleasuring yourself for the first time.

The vibrator’s LED light switches to a solid green, indicating its readiness to abuse your very untouched clit. You flush at the thought, yet eager as the familiar moisture pools in between your legs. You’re suddenly all too ready, all too demanding of the touch of a toy that you haven’t felt in too long. Why had you been putting this off for so long?

Unplugging it from the outlet next to your bed, you slip off your shorts and lay comfortably back onto your mattress. Another blush creeps onto your cheeks, your thumb unlocking your phone and opening the Chrome app. Making sure to switch to a private browser, you hesitantly type it in.

‘Pornhub’

The link loads embarrassingly quickly and you flush further, a mix of both the heat and your self chagrin marking the apples of your cheeks. You don’t even know what to look for, the home page overwhelming you with a variety of sinful thumbnails, begging to be clicked on. It almost makes you grimace in distaste, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the situation at hand. You decide against pornography, gripping onto your imagination as you toss your phone aside and clear your throat, settling back onto the mattress with your eyes closed.

You’ll think about Namjoon. His broad hands, slender fingers and that deliciously thick cock. His moans, his honey skin and the way he was able to make you come twice that night.

Spreading your legs apart, you fixate the vibrator against your heat, gasping at the cool tip of the silicone already sensitive against your clit. You’re already soaked, the head gliding over your clit with slick.

It feels wrong when you turn the device on, the low buzz of vibrations filling the air. Brows knitted together, you picture Namjoon again. Trying to imagine the stroke of his tongue against your folds as the buzz of your vibrator rings through you, you gasp at the overwhelming sensation. Why didn’t you do this more often? You try to stay quiet, breathing growing laboured as the image of Namjoon between your legs morphs into something else. Rather, it morphs into someone else.

You see it in your head, your fingers threading through dark curls, legs pinned apart by two ink-sleeved arms. When you look down, you’re met by the intense gaze of brown doe eyes, his brows furrowed as his tongue flicks relentlessly against you. It’s almost as he’s smirking at you, the slightest quirk in his eyebrow implying that he knows he’d fucking you well with only his tongue. The image makes you shudder, shaking your head as you kick this sick fantasy out of your mind. Were you out of your mind?

On the other side of the room, Jungkook’s ears perk up to the sound of this low buzz. He hadn’t realized you were still awake. But as the buzzing intensifies, and a rhythmic deep breathing follows, it soon grows impossible to ignore. He has to be certain. Cautiously removing one earphone, he almost leans into the noise, cocking his head to the side.

No, that’s definitely you, alright.

You gasp as you apply more pressure to your clit, eyes rolling back from the waves of vibrations surging through your entire body. You can’t get it out of your head, imagining Jungkook’s taut arms holding you down, his tongue unforgiving against you. The moan that escapes you is wholly on accident, a hand slapping against your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself further.

Jungkook sits at his desk, dumbfounded. Were you really doing what he thought you were? Surely not. It’s then that hears the moan. It penetrates the thin wall that separates the two of you and stirs a familiar twitch in his boxers. He feels it press against the fabric, stretching with every heartbeat that knocks against his ribcage. His breathing begins to deepen, only letting his imagination wander as to what you were doing in this moment, merely a few feet away.

No, he thinks. Absolutely not. Behave yourself.

You’re…well, you’re moaning.

Fuck this, Jungkook’s inner dialogue protests. If you’re not going to play fair, then neither is he. He rises from his desk, tripping slightly over his office chair, clattering the plastic wheels against the hardwood floor. The sound reverberates through what feels like the entire house, and the silence is broken by the impact, which by all accounts seems far too noisy for its own good.

Jungkook freezes, terrified. The buzzing ceases just as suddenly, and the air is replaced with an undesirable discomfort.

Inside your room, your left hand tightens over your mouth the other switches off the vibrator. The kerfuffle seemed to have occurred frighteningly close, prompting a sudden cease to desist all sinful pleasures. The anxieties come in waves, one after another. Did he hear you? Oh God, how long was he listening? Was that even him?

A painful eternity passes. The silence fills the house once more, the crickets outside resuming their nightly song.

Jungkook half expects you to barge into his room, fuming at him for being a pervert and listening in but your feared assault never comes. If anything, his cock only seems to grow harder, the thought of you pleasuring yourself just on the other side of the wall so alluring, he begins to palm himself over his boxers.

You, on the other hand, upon the silence, convince yourself that he hadn’t heard after all. Surely, it was something else, Jungkook had probably already gone to bed.

Jungkook. Your lips form the shape of his name but no sound comes out, only a heavy exhale. This is wrong, beyond inappropriate and downright vulgar. It’s the dimples, you try to argue with yourself. Or those eyes, a deep coffee brown that take away from his masculine frame. It almost brings a childlike charm, distracts you from the surfeit of tattoos that mark his muscular build.

With impatience, you start the vibrator again, placing the device over your clit once more. You’re soaked beyond control, your own fingers itching to be stuffed inside yourself. Thumb hitting the setting button, the buzz of vibrations grow an octave higher as the intensity of the second setting rolls over your bead with a blast of euphoric pleasure. It’s almost too much, legs clamping shut as the judder of silicone repeatedly assaults your clit. Your panting growing quicker, inching you to tip over the edge. Oh, how you yearned to be filled with a cock.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, giving into the barbaric thoughts in his head. Quietly, he slides his boxers down his thighs and situates himself back onto his desk chair. His cock is throbbing, tip a blushed pink as his heartbeat begins to resonate harder. Were you doing this on purpose? Were you testing him? Teasing him? He rests his head back, eyes fluttering to a close as he holds the base of his painfully erect cock with his right hand.

His hand slowly begins to slide up and down his own length, twisting slightly whenever his fingers cross over his glans. The sensation fills him with ecstasy, and he can’t help but gasp as he tightens his grip and continues to stroke his cock. He thinks of you, on the other side of the wall with your legs spread, flushed and begging to be fucked. How well he’d fit inside you, how well you’d take him in your tight cunt and how you’d whimper his name into his ear. With these thoughts, his pace on himself quickens, breaths laboured against the air. This was wrong, so wrong but hearing you like this, imagining you sprawled on your bed in desperate need of his touch only pushes him further to his climax.

For a moment, he thinks about risking it all and just ripping your door open to fuck you into your next existence. He stays planted onto the leather seat, his hands roaming in a familiar rhythm.

You are minutes, seconds away from seeing strings of white. It’s when you raise your vibrator to its third setting that you come undone, biting the inside of your cheek as your orgasm plummets you to a new horizon and Jungkook’s name sits at the edge of your tongue.

You feel it spray out of you, your arousal sprinkling over your bed sheets in a clear indication of your collapse. You gasp and shudder, quick to turn off the device as its relentless motion becomes far too much for your sensitive clit.

You lay for a moment, gathering your bearings as your high lingers between the furrow of your eyebrows. Your head feels heavy, sleep overtaking every inch of your body and you begin nodding off almost instantaneously, vibrator still in hand. It’s when you shift to doze more comfortably that your thigh makes contact with a cool, wet splotch.

Your eyes spring open and you’re sitting up, flicking on your bedside lamp. You have just squirted all over your sheets, the damp puddle prominent and deride. You sit there in disbelief, blinking at the mess between your legs. You frown, suddenly becoming aware of the incessant pounding in your head from your high and you curse yourself for making such a mess.

Now you have to do the laundry, there’s no way you could sleep in these.

Jungkook is close, frustratingly so…it won’t take much at this rate for him to blow his load all over himself. He places his hand firmly around the chair handle, fingers gripping against the plastic. His other hand strokes faster than ever before, breaths deepening. And as he reaches his climax, the quietest of moans escape his lips, followed by your name. It’s so soft on his tongue, it feels uncouth. The trail of white fluid follows, spurts out of his cock and onto his stomach. He pants, quick to milk every ounce of himself with the squeeze of his palm around the edge of his head and then he’s reaching for his water bottle, taking a cool swig of the liquid.

He has to shower now, there’s no way he could sleep like this.

As you unhook the last of your sheets from the mattress, you quickly roll the fabric into a giant ball within your arms. You’re on your tippy-toes, hesitantly reaching for your door as you twist the knob and pull the barrier open. You look around, relieved to see the hallway engulfed in complete darkness. Jungkook’s door is closed, no light emitting through the cracks which means he must be asleep. Gingerly, you close the door behind you and tiptoe towards the end of the hall where the laundry room is- attached to the shared washroom.

You’re quick to stuff the sheets into the washer, loading the detergent into the cartridges and powering on the machine. The room’s lights aren’t even on, you’re too lazy to find them. Besides, the stark moonlight and LED of the washing machine are plenty of light enough. When you’ve set the machine to its cycle, you ponder on what the hell you can do with no bedsheets to aid in your sleep and your body covered in sweat.

Even if you are hotter than before, sweatier than before, slumber takes a toll on your body. Your head feels weighted, drowsy from your hard climax. You think a shower would work best, turning to go back into your room for a change of clothes when you bump into something, rather someone.

You shriek and take cover under your raised arms, a soft glow of white light sifting through the crack of your arms as the washroom lights get flickered on. Raising your head out of the shield of your arms, you find Jungkook standing in front of you, void of a shirt and clad by only a pair of boxers.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?” You can’t help it, your eyes wander, rake him from head to toe. You can see it, the ever so light outline of a bulge, something that is definitely nowhere near a micropenis.

“I was just...about to shower. I’m sorry- I didn’t know you would be out here, I would’ve worn more clothes” His gaze is soft with worry and you’re reminded of your earlier outburst. It was quite hypocritical of yourself when you’ve just fucked yourself on a sex toy to scandalous thoughts of him. His eyes flickers to the low drone of the washer and then back to you. “You’re doing laundry?”

Your cheeks flush, your voice hitching in your throat as you promptly pull up an excuse as to why you’re doing laundry at nearly two in the morning. “I-I spilled some tea on my sheets, I have to wash them.” You hope it’s convincing enough. “I was about to shower too.”

Jungkook regards you carefully, expecting a scolding for even asking but it never comes. You’re flustered and painted a shade of red he is familiar with. He’s only familiar with it because he too is the same shade of red. You two had been pleasuring yourselves, separately yet simultaneously. The memory almost brings a fresh wave of lust.

“Why are you showering at-” you glance at the time on your phone, “-one o’clock at night?” Jungkook doesn’t expect this question from you. You had never been interested in anything he did other than if it was something bothersome to scold over. He clears his throat and uses his slender fingers to push his hair back. You reckon he’ll need a haircut soon.

“I was exercising in my room.” Technically, masturbation was a certain form of exercise…  

The air is stiff, you feel it. It crosses both of your minds, had you heard one another? Was it obvious? You shift on the balls of your feet, teeth crashing down on your bottom lip. “Well, who’s gonna shower first?” You eye his practically unclad figure. It’s impossible to not take notice of the Adonis belt that leads your vision straight to his casual bulge. You look away. “Technically I was here first.”

Jungkook chuckles and pokes the inside of his cheek with a tongue. “Technically this is your house too, right?”

Your head drops to the ground, a shameful pout crossing over your features. Perhaps you were too harsh earlier, but you may just be feeling this way from the endorphins.

You go against the wish for a shower, it’s the least you can do. “I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight, just letting you know. Please don’t make food at some obscure hour of the night or I will kill you.” With that, you push past him, your shoulder knocking against his arm as you head towards the living room.

To Jungkook, there’s something so beguiling about your clear disdain for him. He merely observes you from where he stands, feeling another rush of blood make way to his cock. How could you so ignorantly disregard that you had just been touching yourself? Did you really not know he could hear you? It baffles him, leaves him with another hard-on as he turns away, closing the washroom door behind him before he’s turning on the shower.

Today, you’ve had a shitty day.

Kim Taehyung has put in his two weeks' notice. He’s quitting this job to move halfway across the world and live with his girlfriend abroad and your boss had informed you one of your very own clients have committed tax fraud, costing your firm thousands. Along with this, you’ve spilled coffee over your white button-up and the hair tie holding your crisp bun up had snapped to unleash your unbrushed, unwashed owl’s nest.

When you walk into the apartment, you almost don’t want to look at your reflection in the mirror. It was strategically placed in the foyer by Seokjin, his scientific reasoning behind it being so he could start a positive day by looking at himself one last time before leaving the house. This logic seems like bullshit to you now. Your hair is a lion’s mane, your black bra visible against the translucent, chestnut coffee stain on your chest and your face is shiny from the amount of sweat you’ve had building up throughout the day from this sweltering heat.

Kicking off your heels, you take notice that Jungkook’s Pumas don’t take their usual occupancy on the shoe rack. This means he’s not home and this means, he wouldn’t be seeing you in this state. Relief floods over you.

Somewhere prior to the halfway point of Jungkook’s stay, your animosity for his presence seems to have expired ever so slightly. Perhaps it had to do with your newfound liking towards him from your late-night fantasies, or maybe it was because he had actually been putting more effort into working around the house as of late.

You barely see him now, and when you do, he’s usually made your food along with his own or he’s left you sticky notes telling you he’s taken out the garbage for you or cleaned the washroom. It has warmed your rigid heart but only to an extended degree.

Carding your fingers through your hair, you tame as much of it as you can before you’re unbuttoning your dress shirt and letting the air dry it out. Your bra feels slick against your skin, the mixture of coffee and sweat too unbearable. You unclip it from behind and toss it onto the bar stool by the kitchen island.

After opening the fridge for a can of iced tea, you walk over to the pantry for a snack to accompany the icy, perspiring drink. But before you can make it, you suddenly take notice of it, the twinkling mound of silverware against the sunlight seeping through the windowpane. You look down at the small pile of unwashed cutlery in the stainless steel sink, an inferno flickering in your chest.  

The feeling crawls back, the feeling of wanting to reinforce your disapproval of him. It’s an emotional memory, screaming at you to go back to your familiar disdain, to a more comfortable habit. Or maybe it’s your horrible day, everything bad that’s happened leading up to this breakdown. You feel like an overly emotional pregnant lady, getting fired up over unwashed spoons and forks but you can’t push it down. You’re seeing red.

A click is heard from the bathroom down the hall, followed by the tune of a cheerful whistle. You wrap the open ends of your shirt around your chest, crossing your arms as you stand in the kitchen and await the figure’s emergence from the shadowy refuge of the hallway. Jungkook now appears at the mouth of the hall, one arm rubbing a small towel against his wet hair and the other clutching the towel hanging off his hips. Upon seeing you, his whistle abruptly drops.

“Hey,” he begins nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be home—”

The words come out of you like rapid-fire, all “good deeds” he’s ever done as a roommate escaping through the vents. “You…” You begin, and he winces. “Do you see this?” You point to the sink. “How fucking hard is it to wash your own forks and spoons? Fuck, I’m so tired of picking up after you!”

You’re really unable to stop yourself, weeks of pent-up frustrations just now unleashing, lashing against the boy with such vigor, you can see a gulp send his Adam's apple to a bob. “For the record, if you’re going to smoke, do it the absolute farthest away from the apartment- I cannot stand the scent of fake strawberries and watermelon anymore.” Your arm motions towards the hallway, your foot stomping with it. Jungkook’s gaze very briefly strays to your shirt that unravels, just barely covering your breasts. Were you not wearing a bra?

“For every shower you take after the initial one, you have to set aside two dollars extra towards the water bill and for the love of all things holy, please start eating dinner at a reasonable time- you make it impossible to like you when I’m forced to wake up at two in the morning almost every single night.” With one push off the counter, you’re off towards the hallway to your bedroom, the heat of Jungkook’s stare burning into the back of your skull as you pass by him.

Jungkook sighs.

“I try, you know.” His quiet words halt you in your steps. “I knew you never liked me but I never knew why...that much was always a mystery. It never stopped me from trying to be the best damn roommate you’re ever going to have.” You twist around, taking in his stance. Now his arms are crossed, the towel once on his head now draped over his arm. “And yet you still hate me.”

You’re disarmed, mouth suddenly dry as you take in his words. Jungkook continues. “I...I just don’t get it- and I have to admit it’s a little disheartening,” He takes an idle step forward. “I don’t know what to expect from you- one moment you’re scolding me and the next…” His eyes trail to the exposed delve between your breasts, carefully covered underneath your unbuttoned shirt. You coil into yourself, wrapping your shirt over your chest again as you shift your gaze to the marks of ink blossomed over his skin. “And the next you’re staring at me.” Steadily dragging his gaze back up towards your eyes, he smirks and speaks again. “Kind of like you’re staring right now.”

If there’s one thing you hate the most, it’s being called out. Your pride is wounded and you rise to the challenge, huffing a bemused breath. You shoot back with faux scorn. “I’m only staring because you’re practically naked in front of me. Have you no decency in the presence of a woman?” This makes Jungkook cock an eyebrow, and he finds himself closing more distance between the two of you.

He laughs, mirthless but nonetheless amused by your rebuke. “Usually in the presence of a woman like you, decency is the last thing on my mind.” Leisurely, you’re losing each other in one another’s gaze.

You scoff. “Like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play coy, you and I both know you’re not near as good as you think you are.”

This statement catches you off guard, wholeheartedly. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes flicker between the towel that’s barely clinging around his waist to his eyes that have seemingly darkened, ablaze with something akin to salacity. Jungkook licks his lips, the length of his damp hair sending a tiny trickle of water down the side of his face. “And that doesn’t even count all the weird shit I’ve heard in this house.” Now you’re the one gulping, frozen in place as he takes another step closer. “You moan in your sleep, you moan when you touch yourself at night...” Your eyes widen in horror, he had heard you that night and possibly every night after that.

“I’ll never forget what your friend said on the phone, you know. With lips like that…you make it impossible to forget anything about you.”

Shit.

He’s gotten closer, much closer. With anyone else, the lack of distance between you would be nothing short of uncomfortable and unwanted, but you find yourself pulled towards him. The closing of the gap between you is mutual, and before you have a chance to shoot back a reply, his lips are hovering above yours. “Pretty lips that make pretty noises.” And then, his mouth is on yours.

Your knees nearly give out.

Before anything else, you’re filled with shock, an invasive shock. How could he be doing this?

He… He’s…he’s actually a pretty good kisser. You’re swept away, his arms cocooning around you. His lips pillow against your own, his tongue the taste of mint.

Jungkook is damp from his shower, his skin slick and cool under your touch as you slide your arms around his neck. This motion beckons you closer, pushing your lips harder against his. He walks you backwards and you follow suit, mouths remaining on one another as your back hits the wall right next to your bedroom door. There is absolutely no turning back now.

His hands are sliding down your body, feeling every curve of your body underneath his palms as he squeezes and kneads until he’s reached your ass. You moan into his mouth when he grabs handfuls of your bottom, a calculated grip that he uses to push your pelvic bone against his growing erection. This invites his tongue into your parted mouth, taking in the taste of yours into his own. They cushion around each other, a synchronous valse that only grows the moisture in between your legs. You feel his want for you build against your stomach, the thickness that lays just beyond his towel.

Jungkook’s teeth find the plump of your bottom lip, a gentle gnaw at the flesh before he’s tugging at it. The whimper you let out only elicits a growl to emit from his chest, the hands on your ass now sliding up your sides until they’re cupping your face. It’s then that his clear want for you becomes evident, a taut prominence poking against your stomach.

“M’Jungkook…” You whimper into his mouth, his right hand moving from your cheek to the base of your neck. You gasp as his palm pushes against your sternum, the fingers wrapped around your neck tightening in the slightest as you’re pushed farther against up against the wall. Jungkook hums in response, his lips relentless against your own.

His mouth works in precise vigour against your own. It’s as if he has been starved of this moment for too long, days, weeks of holding himself back. You can’t stop yourself either, not quite being able to comprehend the happenings of this exact moment. Nights of pleasuring yourself to the thought of your roommate and here you two are, your cunt seemingly progressing into an ocean of slick and his cock ready to be smothered in it.

Jungkook pulls away, and when you get a chance to look at him, his cheeks are powdered in a shade of rose, his lips marginally swollen from your heated kissing and his eyes ablaze with a craving you can’t even describe. “Not so smart with that mouth now, are you?”

You swallow thickly, words failing you. Your eyes glance towards the roses stoic on his neck. Oh, how you’d like to lick over them. The situation is beyond words, and you reckon if it hadn’t been, that actions still would fare far better than words.

Jungkook drops to his knees in front of you and fiercely grabs your hips. You inhale sharply, head dropping as your fingers instinctively grasp for purchase against his impossibly broad shoulders. They’re marked with feathers that lead down his biceps in the shape of wings. You can’t help but dig in, your nails leaving thin red crescents slashing across the ink as your back rests against the wall.

“You think you can get away moaning my name every night?” He groans, alternating between breaths and kisses around your pelvis, slowly moving past your navel. His fingers hook around the belt loops in your pants, his free hand eagerly tugging down your zipper. With precision, he pulls your pants down until you’re clad in only your underwear. Thank God, you chose today of all days to wear a thong. The baby pink silk, smooth underneath his fingertips. Jungkook looks up at you wishfully, his doe eyes radiating a boyish innocence that contradicts the ink littering his skin. But then he speaks, his voice a soft growl.

“I hope you taste as delicious as you look,” he says, not doubting for a second that you won’t as he bites the elastic of your thong. You are breathless; it’s hard not to be when Eros himself is between your legs, yearning for a taste of your dripping sex.

Your breath catches in your throat, Jungkook’s thumb skimming down your pubic bone to where you want, need it the most. You shiver as he circles against your clit through the cloth, a purposeful pressure that has you tightening your grip on his shoulders. He can feel the moisture against the fabric, your arousal clinging against the material.

“I didn’t even have to touch you and you’re already this wet for me, baby?” He licks his lips, fingers running up and down your thighs. The nickname baby stays with you, lingers and only soaks you further. You roll your head back against the wall, letting his fleeting fingers latch around the band of your thong before you feel them being tugged down your legs.

It’s almost instinctive for you to want to cross your leg over the other, to keep Jungkook from seeing you so bare and needy for him. But of course, Jungkook doesn’t let this happen. He kisses your right hip bone before tracing a bold lick diagonally down to your pelvis. Your fingers rub against his shoulders, one hand gliding up the back of his head to comb through the mass of his damp dark curls.

Jungkook hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, letting the balm of your foot rest against the delve of his back as he spreads you above him. A broad hand pushes your hip back against the wall, the one leg you’re balanced on steady underneath his aiding grip. He uses his free hand to run his second and third digit up and down your wet folds. You shiver.

He looks up at you once more. This time, a lopsided smug grin adorns his face as he beams you a set of perfect teeth, the familiar indents of his dimples marking against his lower cheeks. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” You’re moaning in response to this, leg wavering as you feel the slide of Jungkook’s forefinger push into you. He hums in appreciation, your tightness inviting the chafe of his finger. He places a chaste kiss just above your pubic bone as he begins a slow rhythmic pump of his finger.

“Fuck,” you breath out, the ridges of his calloused digit filling you far greater than your own ever has. You can’t even begin to imagine how his dick will feel, your fingers laced into his hair tightening their hold as well.

It’s when you feel the point of Jungkook’s deft tongue stroke against your clit that you cry out, his hand gripping your hip harder against the wall as he feels you waver above him. Your eyes flutter to a close, letting him have his way with you against his tongue. He uses it mercilessly, flicks pointed and dexterous against your clit as his finger pushes in and out of your tight heat. “Oh my god, Jungkook.” He inserts another finger and you nearly lose yourself.

Your eyes are rolled back, your hips involuntarily jerking away from Jungkook’s grip as they push forward in search of more of his mouth. You feel it bubbling inside you, each stroke of his fingers and each swirl of his tongue making it impossible for you to focus on anything else but this feeling. He laps around your clit, strict and continuous. When you open your eyes to look down, you see his gorgeous hair enveloped in the thread of your fingers. You’ve never been eaten out against a wall like this and it only adds more to your impending undoing.

Jungkook’s digits move quicker now, with each pump comes a curl that elicits the neediest of whimpers to fall past your lips. He feels his cock twitch with every sound you make, a melodic hymn to his ears. He alternates between sharp flicks and taking the whole of your clit with his mouth in a gentle siphon. This time there is no barrier of a wall between the two of you, this time he can hear you as vividly as he hears the tits chirp outside his window every morning and this time, you are not using a vibrator on yourself, he’s fucking you with his tongue.

He can feel you tightening against his fingers, your walls clenching unimaginably tight around him with every stroke. You are close, so very close and the feel of his relentless tongue lapping around your clit along with his slender fingers has you seeing nothing but the ceiling above you. Jungkook picks up the pace of his tongue as well, his head moving in vigour as he fervently pushes the wet muscle against your bead.

He senses it coming before you do, his tongue and fingers in a violent rhythm. You jerk above him, your hold on his hair impossibly tight as you let yourself go, crying out his name from your orgasm. He feels your squirt spray out of you, it coats his mouth and chin, sprinkling even to his chest as you shake above him. Jungkook does not stop, digits pumping even faster, tongue continuing their assault.

You chant his name as you writhe underneath his grasp. The sensation becomes too much within seconds of your orgasm but somehow his persistence makes it feel as if you can come all over again.

“J-jungkook p-please,” you beg, your fingers unraveling from his hair and tightening onto his shoulders as you try to push him away. He follows suit, unlatching his mouth from your heat before languidly rising to his feet.

When you look at him, his lips are swollen and painted in your clear arousal, your squirt coating down the cleft of his chin, streaming his neck and sprinkled across his chest. It matches his damp hair, uniform with the wetness of his previous shower.

“You...just...squirted. All over me.” You can’t quite tell if this statement holds aversion at first. Truth be told, you’ve never squirted from a man’s tongue against you.

Jungkook steps closer. “Do you know how fucking hot that was?” You don’t know, but Jungkook is taking your hand into his and placing it over it his very hard bulge. You gasp at the feel underneath your palms, unyielding to your touch. It’s far greater of a bulge than you’ve ever felt before.

You smell yourself on him, a faint fragrance that you taste when Jungkook leans forward to kiss you with greed. His mouth his sticky, kisses lingering against your lips. When he pulls away, his fingers glide over the knot that holds his towel up. You watch him, eagerly as he pulls at the twist, letting the towel to fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

“Oh my god,” you catch yourself saying out loud.

Jungkook is big. Larger, thicker than you could have ever imagined. An erect serpentine that lays firmly in his hand as he takes the base of his cock in his palm, you can’t look away. You gulp, eyes flickering between his daunting length and his growing smirk. Your mouth suddenly feels parched, a tentative tongue poking through the seams of your lips to swipe over your lips. Something about him not using the towel to directly wipe off your squirt makes your stomach flip with somersaults, so aroused by the idea of him wearing your ograsm on him with pride.

Jungkook twirls his forefinger in the air. “Turn around,” he commands and you oblige, twisting your body as you lay the flat of your palms against the cool wall. Jungkook pulls at your hips, mumbling words of profanities as your ass grinds against his thick erection. He already feels so full against your heat.

Kicking your legs open and apart, his feet stand in between yours, making it impossible for you to close them. He places a kiss against your shoulder, your forehead rested flush to the wall as a tender hand kneads at the cheek of your ass. He spanks it once, the echo of both the slap and your yelp of surprise travelling down the hall.

Hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, his damp hair tickles your neck as he whispers. “Think you can take it, baby?”

“Y-yes.” Your answer is short and breathless, hips instinctively grinding against him for further proof of your want. This earns you another spank and Jungkook is taking the base of his cock in one hand, spreading your cheeks with his free hand as he lines up to your cunt.

He nudges past your folds with his head, speaking in a low growl. “Good girl. Now let’s hear you scream.” He pushes in.

The stretch of his tip pressing into you tingles with a sizzling burn, the pressure that follows has your fingers curling against the wall and an arm reaching back to grasp onto Jungkook’s hip.

He takes your offering hand, interlocking your fingers together as he pushes another inch into you before pulling back out. He lets you adjust, your mixed moans echoing throughout the hallway as he juts his head forward to fill you once again.

His girth pinches against your walls, deliciously so and Jungkook pauses every couple of moments to let you feel every inch fill you until he’s reached the hilt.

He lets your hand go and you bring it back to press against the wall in aid of holding you up. “That’s it, baby...take every inch of it.” His voice is low, husky, something so carnally divine in the clip of his syllables that it has you rolling your head back. “You’re doing so fucking good. Does it feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you say as you exhale shakily.

He rolls out of you, his name just on the edge of your tongue before he’s thrusting forward to have it spill out of your mouth. The velvet smooth feel of Jungkook’s cock mixing with your slick arousal makes the pinching sensation come to an ease. He’s swearing behind you, alternating between muttered profanities and guttural moans.

“So. Fucking. Tight. You feel so good, baby, taking me so well.” His fingers are firmly grasping onto your hips, his thrusts now beginning a steady rhythm as he steadily fucks you against the wall. Jungkook’s girth knocks the breath out of you, a full pressure that fills your tight cunt so satisfyingly, you almost lose yourself a second time within minutes from your first orgasm.

Jungkook is panting behind you, fingers surely leaving bruises against your skin as he speeds his hips to pound into you. He loosens his grip, three of his digits tracing a line down your spine before cutting around your waist and hovering above your clit. “Come again for me, baby. One more time, squirt for me.” It’s with these words that you decide, you don’t want to squirt on the floor once more, you want to squirt on him, on top of him.

“W-wait.” You reach your arm back, pressing the flat of your hand to his hip in a gesture to stop. He stills immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” The worry in his voice only causes you to release a breathless laugh, shaking your head no in reassurance.

“I want to ride you.” How could Jungkook ever say no to that? Without a beat of hesitance, he slides out of you, taking his cock in his hand before lightly tapping the head against each of your cheeks. Gripping your waist, he spins you to face him, a dimpled smile greeting you as you reach his gaze.

“Mm, is that so?” He asks and you nod, returning his smile. The dim glow of sunlight pouring into the hallway allows you to see the glowy sheen of his sweat and your arousal glimmer against his face and chest, enhancing his tattoos. The dampness of his curls have dried but a new layer of perspiration forms a film over his forehead.

You take Jungkook’s hand in yours, leaning forward to place a chase kiss on his lips before you’re leading him into your bedroom. You walk him backwards, your hands on his shoulders and his eyes focused nowhere but on yours. It’s when the back of his knees knock against the edge of your bed that he’s forced to have a seat.

He expects you to straddle him, you see it in the glimmer of his doe eyes but instead, you drop to your knees in front of him, arms separating his inked thighs apart. This takes Jungkook by surprise, he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raising in question.

You hands glide up and down his legs, a grin stretching across your face as you lean forward and place a gentle peck to the base of his thick cock. Jungkook hums in satisfaction, eyes holding a challenge as he watches you with great concentration.

The pink of his head looks all too inviting as you take his cock in your hands. As you do so, Jungkook’s hands roam up your arms before they’re resting on each of your shoulders. He benignly grips at the tense muscles of your shoulders, thumbs moving in circles over your skin. “You’re tense.” He vocalizes.

“You’re fucking huge.” You hit back, eyes wide and mouth salivating at the heaviness in your grasp. It’s tacky, coated in you as you swipe a thumb over the head and Jungkook hisses above you. When you look up at him, his dark eyes are speared to your movements, teeth gritted. You begin moving your hands up and down his length.

“You can take it in your mouth, can’t you?” The tone in his voice depicts a challenge and your ears nearly perk in interest. Of course you can take him in your mouth. You lean forward, Jungkook’s broad hands leaving the expanse of your shoulders to slide up the sides of your head. His fingers comb your hair back, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. The movement flexes the muscles on his inked biceps and you have to admit to yourself that he looks so fucking good.

Jungkook is all too eager as he watches you, the flat of your tongue sticking out to lick around the rim of his head. He chokes back a groan, grip on your hair tightening. You stretch your mouth as wide as you can, a discomfort to your movement as you engulf the whole of his head with your tongue. Jungkook inhales a sharp breath, fingers threaded into your hair as he eases you down to take more of him.

You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning a slow suction. “Fuck,” Jungkook mumbles from above you, shifting on the mattress, watching you. “Open wider, baby.” You do as asked, jaw already sore from the girth of his head alone. He pushes his hips off the mattress in the slightest, grip on your hair firm as he thrusts more of himself into your mouth.

You’re careful not to let your teeth graze over the skin of his cock, your fingers tightening around his length before you start to twist your wrists and continue sucking. Jungkook is careful to be gentle with you, very tenderly urging his cock to fill more of your mouth. It shocks you when you feel the blunt of his head hit the cap of your airway, eliciting a gag.

Jungkook pulls out a millimeter before he’s pushing back in, teeth gritted and eyes focused. Your mouth looks so pretty stuffed with his cock; it’s almost as pretty as your cunt taking him to the hilt.

Another gag rumbles out of you and vibrates against his member, this time, Jungkook being the one to moan. His hips stutter in shallow thrusts into your mouth and you feel the sting of tears threatening to blur your vision.

The sounds of your gagging bounces off the walls of your bedroom, followed by the guttural moans of Jungkook as he fucks your mouth. Each thrust of his hips causes the head of his cock to push past your airway.

You release your hold around his length, fingers thickly coated in your own saliva as you find purchase of the flesh of his thighs. You let him have his way with you, your mouth stretched as wide as you can physically make it and a single thread of a tear rolling down your cheek. You look up through the flutters of your eyelashes, pleased to see the Adam’s apple in Jungkook’s throat bob up and down while his head is thrown back in pleasure.

The sudden pull of his cock from your mouth comes with a light ‘pop’ followed by you gasping for air. Using his hold on your hair, he jerks your hair back so you’re forced to look up at him. He hungrily latches his lips onto yours, sloppy and wet with a relentless tongue that intrudes your mouth.

You slide your hands over his thighs, towards the ridges of muscles on his abdomen as he helps you rise to your feet. Your right palm travels up his chest, your other arm circling around Jungkook’s neck as you let him grab a handful of your ass. With a persuasive lift, he places you on his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso as his mouth remains on yours.

“M’let me ride m’you,” you gasp in between kisses, Jungkook’s toned arms looping around your waist as he shuffles closer to the edge of the mattress.

“Yeah?” He moves from your mouth to the edge of your jaw.

“Please.” Jungkook loosens his grip around your waist, letting you rest the front of your calves on either side of him. You situate yourself, raising your hips as your hand finds his still, very erect length to line against your core.

“Look at you so needy for my cock, don’t hate me so much anymore?” The smugness in his tone only grants him a glare from you, a chuckle following his tease. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in need of you too.” You have noticed, his massive cock hasn’t wavered in want in the slightest since he first kissed you.

You huff a breath. “I never hated you.” Rubbing his head a few times over your sex, you finally sink down onto it, your cunt eagerly taking in his head. You gasp at the feel of this new position, his length gliding in much smoother with your previous practice. “You just need to start washing your fucking dish- ah!” You cry out, hands fumbling to grasp at his shoulders as Jungkook juts his hips up, slamming into you. His girth stretches your walls once again and he feels so fucking delicious in you like this. Quite frankly, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to go back to an average sized penis ever again.

“Mm, I should keep pissing you off if it means I get to shut you up like this.” His voice hitches at the last word as you pick your hips up and ram yourself back down onto his cock. You both moan at this, your arms once again looping around Jungkook’s neck as his hands firmly grip your hips in guidance.

Your teeth clash as you kiss him with each bounce of your hips, the position more so letting you gently rock over his cock. Your clit rubs against his skin with each roll of your hips, making sure you alternate between circling your hips and bouncing on his cock. Jungkook is losing himself, you know this because he holds you tightly, firmly as he lets you take control. You ride him hard and slow, the pre crescendo to his coming end.

“Come for me, Jungkook,” You moan against the shell of his ear, legs losing stamina as you try to keep a rhythmic pace. But Jungkook doesn’t want to finish just yet, he wants you to come again too.

You yelp as he slides his hands under your ass, lifting you off him before he’s throwing you onto the mattress so you’re on your back. He stands up, above you at the edge of your bed, taking your knees in the crevice of his elbows before yanking you towards him.

“Where is it?” He gruffs, fingers gripping your waist.

“What?”

“Your vibrator, where is it?” If you weren’t flushed already from Jungkook’s cock, you’d be blushing at his knowledge that you even had one. You stretch your arm above you, fingers reaching underneath a pillow where you usually keep it hidden. Grasping the device in hand, you bring it out, idly waving it in front of the ink-skinned boy. He grins, the youthful boy-like glint returning in the doe of his eyes as he releases your leg from the arm that extends to retrieve it from you.

Inspecting the controls, he finds the power button, clicking it on. A low buzz fills the room. the words that follow leaving you breathless again.

“Ah...now there’s the noise I like to hear every night.” Clicking it back off, Jungkook places it carefully next you before hooking your leg back around his elbow, hoisting your hips up. You watch with eager eyes as he pokes his tongue past his lips, letting a string of saliva drizzle carefully over his cock. He smooths the slick over his cock, letting it coat the entirety of his length before he’s guiding his head against your opening.

He gently slaps his head against your clit before rubbing against it, letting your arousal build once more. You shift your hips in impatience, fingers gripping tightly against your sheets. Jungkook leans down towards your mouth, claiming your lips once more, hard and deep. He tastes of sweat and your arousal, a tinge of salt that you lick away. When he pulls away, he’s pushing his cock into you again.

The curve of his dick hits differently with this position, now he has more control with hitting just the right spots. He’s slow at first, frustrating slow as if he’s testing each stroke of his hips to see how you react. When he’s surging forward until he’s got an inch remaining, you’re crying out loud.

“Here?” He asks and you nod profusely, words unable to form on your tongue. Jungkook pushes even deeper, another cry escaping your lungs at the new fullness. Your grip around your sheets grow tighter, teeth harshly biting down on your lip as he begins steady rock in and out of you.

You’ve never been filled so well like this, his cock hitting every surface area of your inner walls as he stretches you delectably with each roll of his hips. He fucks into you, hard and deep, changing from circling his hips to pistoning into you with no mercy. He talks filth into the air, profanities and moans chased by the sounds of skin slapping as he relentlessly plummets into you.

He can feel you about to come, the pressure of your clenched walls tightening around him to un unprecedented degree. With each thrust, your cunt only eagerly invites him back in, needy for his spurts of cum. This is when Jungkook grabs the vibrator he placed beside you, thumb quick to power the device on. You yelp and mewl as he places the silicone tip against your clit, the vibration ringing through both of you. The sensation is overwhelming, the girth of his cock mixed with the jolts of your stimulated clit leave you near screaming his name. You shake underneath him, legs quivering as you feel the rise of your orgasm build through your entire body.

“You can squirt again, baby. I know you can. I know you want to.” Your body jerks and still as the combination of one more thrust and the vibe hit you exactly where you need it to, to come undone. Jungkook doesn’t fight it, the pressure of your squirt pushing his cock out of your tightness. “That’s it, darling, so fucking hot.” He keeps the vibrator on you and you whimper, releasing the clutch of the sheets as you flail your arms towards the vibrator in an attempt to push it away from you. Jungkook does not budge.

“P-please, fuck, Jungkook...it’s too much, please.” He does not stop, watching you with intent as your body shakes underneath his control of the vibrator. He knows you can come again.

“One more time.” Your legs are desperately trying to clamp shut but Jungkook expertly holds your legs apart with his torso as he continues assaulting your clit with the silicone. It buzzes against you, rings through your entire body and within minutes you’re coming all over again. It’s so intense, you nearly black out, your voice clamouring to a scream of Jungkook’s name.

He turns it off and throws it somewhere on the mattress before he’s sliding into you with ease. He fucks your squirt back into you with a push of his cock.

This time, Jungkook wastes no time. This time, he drills into you, clamping your legs together as he pushes them forward until your knees hit your chest. This position allows him to go deeper, watching your cunt swallow every inch of his cock with greed along with every thrust of his hips. He feels his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Each snap of his hips become sloppier, his laboured breathing sporadic as his fingers dig harshly into your calves.

“Where do you want me to come?” He rasps, pulling your legs apart once more.

“I-inside me, please.” Your words elicit a mumbled fuck from him followed by a groan. You watch him through lidded eyes, your head thick and heavy from your plentiful of orgasms. Jungkook looks like the God of sex himself above you, sweat dribbling down his forehead, his dark long waves spilling over his eyes, his inked chest glistening and his muscles flexing with every grind of his hips into you. He is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “Come, Jungkook,” you coo, egging him to come undone. “Come inside me.”

With the last phrase, his hips stutter and still before he’s gasping for a breath as he spills himself into you. He shouts your name, voice getting caught in his throat. He steadily moves again, milking every last drop of himself inside of you as your walls achingly aid him.

As he comes to a stop, the room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your mixed heavy panting. Jungkook leans forward, pressing a heavy kiss against your lips before he’s pulling away from your mouth and away from your cunt. He watches, mesmerized as his cum dribbles out of you. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, your tight cunt filled to the brim with his seed.

“Fuck,” he pants, reaching his arm out to help you sit up. You roll your head forward into your palms, the rush of dopamine pounding into your skull with a massive headache. “You okay?” He asks and you nod your head, face still encompassed by your hands.

“You...should piss me off more often.” Jungkook chuckles at this. When you look up from your hands, his wavy locks have a newfound dampness, beads of sweat encompassing his tattooed chest. He’s grinning, a lopsided grin that leaves you with a warm feeling pounding in your chest. 

Jungkook offers you a hand, guiding you off the bed. You take it, letting him pick you up to your feet with the strength of his biceps. 

“Yeah, yeah I should.” You’re both walking out your bedroom and towards the shower.

Seokjin wears nothing but a grimace at the kitchen island as he watches you and Jungkook coo at each other. He’s just returned from his trip abroad, hands crossed over his chest as he observes the blasphemy before his eyes. Jungkook is by the stove, flipping the last of Seokjin’s steak and you’re beside him preparing a salad on the counter.

“Disgusting.” Seokjin scowls. “I leave for three months and this happens?” He scoffs at the thought of the two of you cooking him steak for dinner, as if it would break the bearer of this terrible, awful news. You two are now dating. His best friend and his roommate- to Seokjin, it’s an ultimate betrayal.

You sigh and roll your eyes, setting your freshly made salad in front of him as Jungkook brings over a sizzling pan of steak. He wears a grin on his face, a grin that matches yours before you’re leaning on your tiptoes to kiss against the indented dimple against his lower cheek. Seokjin nearly gags at this.

He truly thought he’d be rid of you as soon as this lease had ended but here you were, snogging who he thought to be his best friend. He thinks he’ll have to burn his mattress too.

“Great,” he says, deadpan, picking up his knife and fork. “I’m stuck with you forever now.” With the greatest of fake enthusiasm, he musters a disingenuous smile and angrily digs into his steak.

He hates that it’s delicious. 

all rights reserved © jeongi

a/n: HEWWOOOO. how u feeling!? 🥴i REALLY!!! did not expect this fic to be so long holy shit im so sorry, i went out of control!!!! this was very loosely based off real-life events that were then fuelled by jungkook’s lotte concert look. and badda bing, badda boom, a 13k fic of pure smut is born and i am wholly unashamed of myself. i really hope you enjoyed reading this filth, it was very fun for me to write!!! please let me know what you think and as always, thank you for reading and i love youuuu 💞

[hysterek]

Feeling of Home

AO3

When Stiles first gets his acceptance letter to NYU, the first person to pop into his head is Derek. He remembers the few stories Derek shared about his time in New York with Laura. It was rare for Derek to talk about his past, or at all really, so Stiles sat quietly and memorized every story. He loved listening to Derek talk about Laura and their New York friends. He also loved knowing that he was probably one of the only people to hear the stories.

Thinking about Derek is still rough for Stiles. Derek left a year ago with only a “see you around -D” note, taped to Stiles’ bedroom window. No forwarding address, no phone number. Typical, Derek. When Stiles read the note, he so badly wanted to be angry, but if he was going to be honest, he’d known it was coming. He doesn’t blame Derek, could never blame Derek. Beacon Hills hadn’t been kind to him. Or his family. Or his friends. Sure, Derek is a sourwolf with some major anger management issues, but he’s also loyal and fiercely protective of those in his corner. And Stiles would always be in Derek’s corner. 

So, yea. Stiles gets why he left, but it still hurts.

~

Deciding on NYU is a tough call, because Stiles got into a few great schools. There’s  a part of him that wants to stay in California. Near his dad. Near his pack. But, there is a bigger part of him that wants to leave and see what else the world, or at least country, has in store for him. If he’s going to be completely honest, he wants to remember what life was like before he got into the werewolf business.

His pack isn’t thrilled to hear that he’s moving 3,000 miles away. They give him their most impressive puppy dog eyes and it’s almost enough to make Stiles change his mind. Almost. His dad, on the other hand, is excited for Stiles to go to New York. John wants his son to have a normal college experience. He wants Stiles to get out there and meet people. People who don’t know all about the things that go bump in the night. Stiles loves his dad.

~

Now that he’s in New York, Stiles’ thoughts once again jump back to Mr. Tall, Dark and Broody. Every small, quiet cafe or bookshop has Stiles wondering if Derek’s ever been there. He wants to know how Derek managed to live here for so long without getting sensory overload. It’s loud and smelly. Stiles is having a hard time with it and his senses are nowhere near as strong as a wolf’s. He knows he needs to focus on the task at hand: Higher Education, but still, Derek’s on his mind. 

~

Soon enough, Stiles finds himself a little routine and it feels good. He finds the best coffee he’s ever had and it’s right next to a great little bakery. The subway system is easy to learn and way cheaper than having to fix his jeep every other month. There’s always something open, no matter what time it is, something Beacon Hills definitely can’t offer. His classes are all pretty interesting and only one of his professors are obnoxious assholes. He’s met some cool people and even hooked up with a couple of them. All in all, it’s not bad living alone in the city, Stiles thinks. 

Only there is something missing. Something Stiles would never say out loud, because he knows it sounds weird and corny. Even by Stiles’ Standards. He’s just missing that feeling of home. It’s something he can’t really explain. He didn’t realize it was missing, until he went home for winter break and breathed in the California air. New York is great, but it’s just not home.

~

Stiles’ first year of school comes and goes in a flash. He passed all of his courses with flying colors and he’s proud of himself. Instead of heading back home for the summer, he decides to find a part time job and work. The pack isn’t happy about it at all, but they schedule several video calls with him throughout summer to make sure he doesn’t miss too much. 

The Sheriff comes and visits Stiles for a week. Missing his dad was the hardest part about being away from Beacon Hills. Stiles wanted to show his dad how well he was doing in his new home and that he doesn’t have to worry about him so much.

When Stiles’ dad goes back home, Stiles throws himself into his work. Living in the city wasn’t cheap and he wants to make sure he isn’t being a financial burden to his dad. So, Stiles wakes up, grabs a coffee and pastry, the heads to the used bookstore that hired him. He gets paid to sit for hours reading the description of all types of old books and posting them online. It’s a great gig, something Stiles actually really enjoys and his co-workers seems to like him, too. Being a working man isn’t half bad.

~

It’s the middle of summer and it’s the hottest it’s been yet. Stiles hates that it gets this hot, but nobody has air conditioning. It should be illegal to not have A/C, when it gets this hot and humid. Sitting by the front door of the bookstore with a small fan blowing on his back, is the only way he manages to survive his job. His new seating does have its perks, though. He can easily see what’s going on outside and Stiles loves to people watch. Businessmen in their expensive suits rushing around people, nannies trying to reel in their hyper kids, tourists taking pictures of anything and everything. 

Stiles is fascinated by the people he sees. He starts to figure out who the locals are and where they’re going. There’s a little old lady who stops at the bakery every Monday and Wednesday, a middle aged man that gets his shoes shined every Friday and then there’s the guy who grabs coffee at the bakery’s coffee kiosk every other day. That guy is Stiles’ favorite person to see, because he reminds him of Derek. Stiles imagines that wherever Derek is, he’s just like the Coffee Guy, living his life.

~

It’s raining when Stiles finishes his last summer shift. He’d forgotten his umbrella, even though he knew it was going to rain. Oh, well. It wasn’t like he was going to melt or anything. Grabbing his bag, he takes off in the rain. The sidewalks are crowded with people trying to escape the wet weather. Luckily for Stiles, his apartment is only a few blocks away from the bookstore. Unluckily for Stiles, the crowd of people was making it hard for him to walk any faster than snail speed. Stiles sees an awning and decides to pause his walk home. 

Taking shelter from the rain, Stiles wipes the water that’s running down his face and wrings out his shirt. It looked like the rain wasn’t going to let up, but Stiles was ready to change out of his soaked clothes. Looking around for his best exit strategy, he decides that his best move is to just take the L and walk home. But, when he steps out from under the awning, the water doesn’t get him. Confused, Stiles looks up to see a red umbrella covering him. Stiles whips his body around to see who the owner of the umbrella is and it’s Coffee Guy. 

Only, it’s not Coffee Guy. Not really. 

It’s Derek. Derek Hale. Derek, who he hasn’t seen in over two years. Derek, who left and never turned back. Derek, who Stiles thought about all the time. Derek, who looked exactly the same, yet somehow totally different. Derek, who is just standing there, staring right back at Stiles. Derek, who appears out of thin air and brings with him that feeling of home.

[yourlocalauthor]

What Goes Around Comes Around- Topper Thornton

Chapter One: The Friend Request

Pairing: Topper x Reader (eventually?)

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of teen drinking, and drug use, Cocaine and weed, Alcohol, Rafe being fucking scary, and cursing.

Word Count: 2,000k+ words

A/N: After months it’s finally here! Lol, I’ve thought about this series more and I’m excited for how it’s going to go! Hope y’all enjoy!

Kook parties, they sucked ass. From the outside they were nice, the loud music, the cheers coming from the inside, and the overall atmosphere was just inviting. On the inside thought, it was a hot sweaty mess of a bunch of teens and people in their early 20s drunk on pissy beer, or some overpriced liquor, and high on overpriced coke and weed. Yet somehow Elle and Jessie were always able to drag Jo to one. Tonight though, she was a little more compliant than usual thanks to her special green buddy. But she had gotten high way earlier than she should’ve and now she just felt groggy and gross.

“You know I’m starting to regret agreeing to go to this party Jess.”

She yelled over the horrible mumble rap playing.

“I mean what the fuck is this music? It sounds like a SoundCloud rapper.”

“Okay yeah this music is pretty shitty, but look at all these super hot guys”

She pointed at a guy walking by, Jo could only see his back side, but he was tall and his backside certainly seemed attractive, and then he turned around and Jo realized she was admiring one Rafe Cameron.

“Is that?”

“Yeah, let’s go find Elle.”

She grabbed her cousin's arm and dragged her towards the house to look for their friend. As they walked around, Jo took note of everyone around them. They all looked older around Jessica’s age, there were a few noticeable younger faces but not many.

“Yo Jess what kinda party is this? I swear all these people look like they’re in college majoring in binge drinking, and being an asshole.”

Jessica shrugged downing the bright pink drink she had in her hand, turning to her cousin.

“I dunno know, Elle just said she wanted to do something tonight, so I asked around and bibbidi bobbidi boo we’re here.”

Jo gave her cousin a small nod, not really wanting to further the conversation, she was really tired, the lack of sleep she had was finally catching up to her. Sleeping was rough, and filled her head with too many thoughts. And when she wanted to clear her head, she’d go drive around the island most likely until the sun would come up.

The moment the two girls stepped into the house, they were hit with a fresh breeze of cool air, which was quite the contrast compared to the hot sticky air outside.

“Are you sure the last time you saw her was in here?”

Jessica asked her cousin as she looked around the packed room, looking for any sign of the other blond.

“Yeah we were in here together, then she started talking to this guy then I lost sight of her.”

“Okay so she’s probably either down here or upstairs. I’ll check down, you go up?” “Yeah, just have your phone on.”

Jessica gave her a nod as Jo walked towards the stairs. Jo quickly got work on the second story of the house, it consisted of one long stretch of hallway, rooms on each side leading to one big room at the end of the hall. Luckily for her many of the doors were open, and there were lines at two of them leading her to believe they were bathrooms. She checked the rooms that were unlocked, and surprisingly a lot of them were empty, and as she was leaving one of the bedrooms something caught her eye.

It was a picture of Rafe, Kelce, Topper, and a few of the other guys from the Kildare Academy lacrosse team. It was definitely an older picture, probably from around two years ago, many of the boys sporting their freshman baby faces. And she couldn’t help but look at the picture focusing on the first boy to ever break her heart, second if she was to acknowledge her father’s existence which she didn’t feel like doing. It was weird, she didn’t really think about Topper much these last two years, but then he did that thing for John B and Sarah and she couldn’t help but have him pop up in her mind more often. It started off as him appearing at the beach she liked to surf at, then she began seeing him around more, at the Wreck, the country club when she was visiting Justin at work, he just seemed to be there all the time.

“Jo?”

She quickly looked up, placing the picture frame back on the dresser.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Looking for you actually, Jess and I wanted to go home.”

“Okay, I’m actually kinda tired myself, do you think Momma Jackson will care if I crash?”

Jo shrugged, shaking her head.

“I think she’s at Justin’s house so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Great means more drinking for me,” Elle joked, a smile gracing her face.

“You’re fucking disgusting, I can’t even think of drinking right now

Jo said walking over to her friend, slinging her arm around her and dragging her downstairs. They walked around a bit downstairs, agreeing to get Jess and then get the hell out of here. But alas the perky older blonde was nowhere in sight, much to the dismay of Jo and Elle.

“Can you call her?.”

Elle nodded, taking her phone out of her bag, and dialing.

“Voicemail.”

She said, shaking her head.

“Whatever, let’s just go look for her.”

Jo sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Her and Elle started walking around looking for Jess, the two decided it was best to stick together not wanting to drag the night on.

“Jo…”

“What?”

“I spotted her, but you’re not going to like where she is.”

Elle carefully pointed towards the corner of the room where Jessica was standing, and right in front of her was Rafe. And it wasn’t just some normal standing, no it was the type of him leaning into her, arm pushed against the wall. She was laughing at whatever he said, most likely wasn’t even funny.

“You have got to be shitting me.”

As angry as Jo was she wasn’t even surprised, despite her warning her cousin she wasn’t exactly expecting her to stop. Her and Rafe had a thing going on ever since her Sophomore year and his Freshman. They met the summer before, and must’ve added each other on Snap or something, because when she came back to the island to visit, there was a lot of flirting much to the dismay of Jo. Of course back then she didn’t really have anything against him.

“You have got to be fucking with me.”

Jo stormed her way over, the anger practically radiating off of her. She ignored every protest from Elle, which only made her more worried. Elle didn’t really understand why her friend had a sudden hate for him, even more than before but she respected her friends wishes and didn’t associate with him, not that she really did much associating to start with.

“Jess, I found Elle lets go.” She attempted to grab her cousin's arm, but was quickly blocked by Rafe. “Um excuse can you move?”

“What’s the rush? Jess and I are just talking Jo, she’s a big girl.”

“Yeah I know, but we-”

“Relax, we’re just talking no need to fuck with the mood.”

“Well um no offense but I don’t need her talking to you.”

“To me? Is there something you want to say to me, Pogue?”

Fuck… she messed up, big time. She was fairly certain he didn’t know she knew about Peterkin, there were high chances he suspected something but she had done her best for the past couple weeks to make sure he couldn’t figure it out.

“No, I’d just like to get home and go to sleep.” She said, backing off a bit. She didn’t have the time or energy to be dealing with Rafe fucking Cameron.

“So let her stay, come on she doesn’t need her younger cousin micromanaging her.” “Cameron, I’m not looking for a fight can we just leave?”

And then he started walking closer to her. She quickly began backing up, but that only made Rafe get closer and soon enough she was backed against the wall and he was towering over her.

“Rafe, I-?”

“Did you say something Pogue?”

“Ra-”

“Didn’t think so.”

“So here’s how this is going to go, you and your little friend can leave, I’d actually prefer if you never came back, but your cousin is staying.”

His face was right in front of hers, she could practically smell the alcohol coming from him, and underneath his nose was a small white powder… coke. Of course he was high, no wonder he was even scarier then normal.

“Look Rafe, it’s fine I can leave with them I’m actually super tired.” Jess finally interjected, grabbing Rafe’s shoulder trying to coax him away from her cousin.

“No.” He said turning around to face her. “You’re staying.”

“Dude she said she wants to leave, let her go.” Elle jumped in, looking at Jo who absolutely looked terrified. Her eyes were like a deer caught in headlights, and her tanned figure was shaking. She looked like she was trying to say something but then Rafe turned to Elle.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing, but what you’re going to do is let them leave Rafe.”

And out of nowhere came a knight in shining polo’s, Topper. Never in a million years did Jo think there would be a situation where he’d be saving her ass, yet there he stood right in front of Rafe, almost trying to tower over him.

“You’re going to let me guide them out, and then you can go back to drinking.”

“Top, Man the fuck? Jess and I were just-”

“The girls said they want to leave, so they’re leaving.”

Rafe attempted to protest only to be shot down again.

“Rafe you don’t need this type of attention on you right now,” Topper whispered while gesturing to the crowd of people watching the situation unfold, finally convincing Rafe to let them leave. He backed away, letting Elle and Jess comfort Jo. All three girls were quickly ushered out by Topper, and Jo could never imagine how excited she was to see her beautiful truck parked down the street. She took a shaky breath, and turned to Topper.

“That’s my car over there, um thank you for everything Topper.”

Jo said, as she and the other two girls began walking over, all three of them stumbling a bit. Jo was busy fishing for her keys in her bag, but was having difficulty due to the darkness and her impaired state.

“Wait! I can’t let you guys drive like this, Jess and Elle you guys look plastered and you Jo… I’m pretty sure you’re high-“

“Correction was high, I’m fine now, I only had like two drinks. Besides, not just anyone is allowed to drive my beloved Marina.”

“Marina? Just give me the damn keys Jo”

“No-“

“Jo just give him the keys, we’re all tired and it’s cold and I want to go sleep.”

Elle pleaded with her. Jo handed her bag to Topper, rolling her eyes a bit as he seemed to manage finding her keys with ease.

“Fine, but just be careful with her.”

She said turning around. All four of them climbed in, Jo taking shotgun, the two blondes taking the back, and Topper of course on the driver’s side.  

Jo looked out the window as Topper began to drive, staring at the big homes they drove past. The kooks really seemed to be living it up. ‘What a life’, she thought, turning around to look at Jess and Elle. Jess was on her phone typing frantically doing who knows what, and Elle was leaning against her shoulder very tired looking. She then turned around to look at Topper. Her eyes trailed the side of his face, staring at his eyes, then his nose bridge, his lips, and then trailing his jawline… Wait no, this is wrong. She can’t be doing this, no matter how heroic he had been to Sarah and John B he was still another asshole Kook who had treated her and everyone she knew like shit. She frowned facing the front, glancing at the time. 2:22 the clock read. ‘Ooh angel numbers.’

Around ten minutes later, they arrived at Jo’s house on The Cut. It was quite different from the house she had been in earlier that night. Much smaller, and only having two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and their living room which was barely a room. But it was home. Jess gently woke up Elle, the two climbing out of the car and making a beeline for the front door. Jess saying something about having to go piss, while Elle arguing back about how she had to too. Jo looked at Topper hesitantly, before beginning to gather her stuff.

“Wait-“

Jo peaked up, looking at him.

“What?”

“Are you good?” He paused looking down. “Wait, that sounds wrong, what I mean is, tonight, you just seemed shaken up… and I’ve never seen you so scared except when you were around your father.”

‘The fuck?’ Jo thought, who was he to act like he cared? To act like her knew her? She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to do the thing, actually I’d preferred if you didn’t.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you pretend to care, it’s fine. Thank you for everything tonight Topper, but we don’t have to talk. Let’s just exit the car and go our separate ways.”

“Jo-“

“Please.” She looked at him for a brief moment, their eyes meeting, before she leaned over and took the keys out. She climbed out of her truck, shutting the door. She heard the other side slam shut, making her even more upset. She walked over to go yell at him, but he was already gone. “Fucking asshole,” Jo muttered making her way into the house.

“What took you so long?” Elle said as soon as Jo walked in.

“Jeez sorry Mom,” She said, kicking off her shoes and throwing her bag onto the ground.

“Well?”

“We were just talking, I don’t know he ended up pissing me off.”

“Mhm” Elle said rolling her eyes. “You’re not going down that rabbit hole again alright?”

Jo laughed, slinging her arm around Elle. “No way, never again, that ship has sailed.” She said making woosh sound. Elle smiled seeming satisfied, and walked down the hall into Jo’s bedroom, most likely getting ready to fill Jess in. Jo laughed again, walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. She could hear some small bickering, Elle going on about someone being an asshole, most likely Topper. Elle hated him for numerous reasons. He and Rafe would treat her dad like shit at the golf course, one day making him snap, ultimately costing him his job as manager. Now he has to work on the mainland, and doesn’t come home most nights of the week, leaving Elle alone with her younger brother and mom. Then there was the whole littering debacle, and of course Jo’s own situation with him. Jess on the other hand had no problem with him, then again she had no problem with Rafe either. She was lucky that way, to be so oblivious, although it was a bit tone deaf. Jo grabbed her glass and phone from her bag and walked into her room, where both girls silenced themselves as soon as Jo walked in.

“Okay what up?”

“Nothing,” Elle said, shooting Jess a look. Causing the other blonde to swiftly nod. Jo shrugged and downed the rest of her water and set it down on her night stand with her phone.

“Sleep now, we’re all going to be super hungover tomorrow.”

“Promise to make your special remedy?”

“I’ll try Jess, I’m going to try and get up early to surf so I’ll try not to forget.”

That seemed to satisfy her, as all three girls clamored into Jo’s bed. The funny thing about Jo’s bed was it was huge, and took up most of her room. It was a gift from her late grandfather, and wasn’t seized by the state. Sure it was a little out of place but it added some character. Plus it was able to fit all three of them. Jo reached over for her phone, when suddenly it lit up.

“Who is it?” Elle said peering over her shoulder. And as Jo’s eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, across the screen flashed ‘topper thornton 🥍 Added you. Say hi!”

@froynextdoor-xo

[electrictoes]

Maybe We Could Be

For @dailysvu's Amanda Rollins Week

Day 3: Friends to Lovers Characters: Amanda Rollins, Sonny Carisi, Minor OCs Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi Warnings: None

Read on AO3

Amanda had a problem - it was a small, solvable problem, and she even had a plan for how to deal with it. Step one, though, was convincing Sonny to go along with it. Four years ago, she thinks, he would’ve jumped at opportunity, but now he was frowning at her across the room. “You want me to lie to your cousin?”

She crossed the short distance from the door to sit in the chair opposite him. “It’s not actually lying, you know,” she said.

“I think it technically is,” Carisi countered, looking over at her from behind his desk.

Amanda leaned forward on the desk, all but fluttering her eyelashes him, “Think of it as going undercover.”

“I’m not a cop anymore,” Sonny told her, leaning back in his chair. 

“What, so you’ve forgotten how to do it, is that what you’re saying?” She grinned at him like it was a challenge, but he didn’t take the bait.

“No, but this isn’t going undercover.”

“Sure it is - you’re undercover as my boyfriend.” Amanda caught the way his expression changed - almost minutely, his eyes widening slightly, his mouth dropping open for a microsecond before he closed it. “Come on, Dominick, please?”

He sighed, sitting upright. “I’m not sayin' no, I’m just sayin' it’s lying and I don’t know why you want to pretend to be somebody that you’re not,” his expression was serious, and she knew he meant what he was saying, “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your life - you’ve got a lot going for you.”

That stung a little - the accusation that she was ashamed - but she knew that he wasn’t exactly wrong about that - people who were content with their lives don’t ask their friends to be fake dates to dinner with their family members. “I didn’t say I was ashamed; I said, my cousin is coming to town and she will go back home with stories about how little Amanda still doesn’t have her shit together, and I’ll be getting phone calls, my mom and everyone… it’s just easier if Katie can go back to Georgia tellin’ everyone I’m happily shacked up with a nice guy.”

Sonny’s voice was low, concerned. “I thought you didn’t care what they thought?”

“I don’t…or at least, I try not to,” Amanda insisted, then reached over, laying her hand atop his where it rested idly on the desk. “But c'mon, it’ll be fun - you and me, playing romantic for the night.” 

He frowned, but he didn’t move away. “I don’t know.”

“What?” She asked playfully, “The idea of playing my boyfriend so horrifying to you?”

“Not the boyfriend part,” he shrugged, “The playing part.”

Amanda’s own mouth dropped open then, the humour from the moment gone as she looked at him. “Dominick-”  

He shook his head, “Look, I’ll do it… of course I’ll do it, you knew that before you walked in here. But I’m not - for the record - I’m not totally on board with pretendin’.”

 Despite his reservations, Sonny was definitely playing the part - he met her at her apartment, stopping by early enough say goodnight to the girls before they left; he was dressed to impress in a dark blue suit she hadn’t seen on him before - Katie’s fiance was an architect and they had chosen a fancier restaurant than Amanda would’ve expected, although admittedly she hadn’t seen Katie in person for almost ten years.

When she answered the door he didn’t react quite quickly enough to school his expression - she saw his eyes roam over her, and she found she didn’t mind - she returned the favour as he stepped into the apartment to say a quick hello to the girls while she grabbed her coat and bag.

She kissed both of the girls goodbye, and thanked Sienna before they left, ignoring the grins on both Jesse and Sienna’s faces as she followed Sonny out of the apartment. 

He reached for her arm once the door had closed behind them, resting his fingers just below her elbow as she turned to look at him, “Hey… you uh, you look- that’s,” he took a quick breath, “You look beautiful.”

Amanda was surprised to find herself feeling shy about the compliment, endeared by the awkward way he had stumbled over his words, the blush creeping across his cheeks. His fingers slipped from her arm, catching her own before he drew his hand back, her heart thudding in her chest at just that small amount of contact.

Step two of Amanda’s plan was simple - convince Katie she was madly in love with Sonny, which wasn’t going to be hard to do, and make sure she went back to Georgia with stories about how happy Amanda was. When Katie had called to say she coming up to New York for a long weekend with her fiance Amanda couldn’t find an excuse to decline the invitation - and she liked Katie; they’d never been close - Katie was ten years younger than her, and Amanda’s trips back to Loganville were few and far between once she moved to Atlanta; Katie had been just a kid at the time- but they got along fine. Amanda’s reluctance came less from not wanting to see Katie, and more from wanting to avoid yet more judgement - her mother, her aunts, cousins… everyone had an opinion on Amanda’s life and the choices they felt she’d made. Being a single mom with kids from two different fathers had rendered Amanda the topic of family gossip, and she was tired of it. She wished she didn’t care what they said about her, but no matter how far she ran and how much she tried to remold her life, there would always be a part of her that was the same angry seventeen year old kid who was trying to outrun a reputation she didn’t want anymore. 

Sonny held out a hand for her as they got out of the cab, and she took it gratefully, gripping a little tighter than she probably should’ve, trying to ground herself; if it bothered him, he didn’t show it. He led the way towards the restaurant and she tugged on his arm before he went in, stopping them where they stood. “Hey, Sonny.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said, voice low, “For this, and for, uh, for always having my back.”

He nodded, smiling down at her, “I know you already know what I think about this, and I’m gonna go along with whatever you want, but you don’t need to pretend to be anything you’re not, okay?”

“I know. I know, can we just… can you just be my boyfriend tonight? Be my partner, like you’ve always been?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but they were interrupted by a familiar voice, “Oh, Amanda!” Katie said as she approached them, and Amanda released Sonny’s hand to return the hug Katie gave her. 

When they pulled apart she saw Sonny was shaking hands with a tall, dark-haired man who Amanda presumed was Katie’s fiance. “I’m so excited to see you!” Katie enthused, “And who’s this?” she gestured towards Sonny - Amanda had told Katie she’d be bringing a date but hadn’t given any more information than that - and she was sure Katie’s mother and sisters would’ve had their own suggestions as to who Amanda’s date could be.

Sonny, prepared as ever, extended his hand to Katie, “Dominick Carisi,” he said with a smile, “I’m Amanda’s boyfriend.”

“Is that so?” Katie said as she shook his hand; she turned to Amanda and gave a wink so unsubtle Jesse could do better.  “This is my fiance, John,” she said, gesturing to the man with her.

“I figured,” Amanda said, shaking the hand he offered. “Nice to meet you.”

“Shall we?” Sonny gestured towards the door and Amanda took the opportunity to slide her hand back into his; nerves creeping up now that Katie was here and she was faced with keeping up a charade. Maybe Sonny had been right - maybe it was lying, but as he slipped his fingers into the gaps between hers, she wasn’t so sure that pretending they were together was an outright lie.

As they sat down to dinner, Amanda tried to keep the conversation light, tried to steer back to questions about Katie and John’s upcoming wedding, about their trip to New York, about family members back home. She didn’t know if Katie was genuinely curious or if she’d been instructed to find out as much as possible about Amanda’s life, but she was full of questions for Amanda herself.

She asked about the girls - how they were getting on, what they were interested in; it was all lighthearted and easy, until she turned towards Sonny, “And have you met the girls yet, Dominick?” she asked - Amanda could practically hear her Aunt Sarah in the question, and she frowned. Sonny, of course, wasn’t fazed.

“Yeah, I’ve known them their whole lives,” he said honestly. “They’re amazing kids.”

“Sonny is actually their godfather,” Amanda explained, “We, uh, we were friends for a long time before we got together… it just took us a while to admit to our feelings.”

“Oh right,” Katie said, “That’s great. It’s good to be friends first - John and I were friends in college.”

Amanda took the opportunity to ask Katie more about the two of them - and they made it partway through their main courses before the conversation drifted back to Amanda again. 

“How’s the detective thing going, Amanda? I still can’t believe you’re a cop, the stories Kim and Allie used to tell me when I was a kid!” 

“Um,” Amanda glanced sideways at Sonny, apprehensive about the stories Katie could tell; third-hand or not, they weren’t likely to portray her in the best light, "It's good."

Sonny reached over, putting his right hand on top of her left, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin, “Amanda actually got promoted last year,” he said, proudly. 

Amanda shrugged, “It was a long time coming, but yeah. Things are going really well at work,” she shared a small smile with Sonny, “Even if I still miss having this guy at my side.”

John turned towards Sonny, “You a cop too?” 

“Not anymore. I used to be - that’s how we met, but, uh, I’m a prosecutor now.”

“A lawyer?” Katie looked impressed - she gave Amanda yet another unsubtle look. That was a fact that would definitely be going back to Georgia with her.

“He’s a damn good ADA,” Amanda said; she turned her hand over beneath Sonny’s, lacing their fingers together. Her turn to be proud.

The rest of the meal was uneventful; whatever agenda Katie had been given by their family, it seemed to fade away as time went on - Sonny charmed Katie with ease and the conversation remained casual all the way through dessert. Sonny’s hand kept finding its way back to hers, and she was hyper-aware of his proximity, but she was enjoying it; that thought back in her head, that maybe this didn’t have to be a lie.

When they left the restaurant, they were headed in different directions, and Amanda broke away from Sonny to say goodbye to Katie - a lingering hug before Katie pulled back, smiling at her. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, “You’ll come to the wedding, right? You and the girls?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“And bring him,” she nodded towards Sonny. 

“It might be a bit too soon for that,” Amanda deflected, not sure Sonny would agree to keep up the fake boyfriend ruse for the length of a trip to Atlanta.

Katie shook her head. “The way he’s looking at you? You might be engaged by then.”

Amanda turned her head, following Katie’s gaze towards Sonny - he was watching her, but his eyes dropped away when he saw he’d been caught out.

“Send me the invite, and I’ll RSVP once I know,” Amanda said, not wanting to explore Katie’s idea further. “It was great to see you,” she said, and she meant it - despite the third degree Katie had given them early on, she’d enjoyed their company, and she was glad that she’d accepted the invitation - and even more glad that Sonny had agreed to come along. 

As they bid goodnight to Katie and John, Sonny’s arm came around Amanda’s shoulders, and he didn’t remove it once they were out of sight. Amanda leaned into him, twisting to hug him properly - she’d meant it as a thank you hug, but he drew her in close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne, and she wound her arms up and around his neck. They were standing far too close now for pretence - and there was no excuse now either, no way she could convince herself this was part of their little undercover operation. 

Neither of them made a move to take things further, but they held each other close for a full minute before she broke away.

When she got into bed that night it was with a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach - she felt like a kid again; fifteen years old and home from a first date with a boy who’d just about gotten up the courage to hold her hand. Hopes and possibilities swirling through her head, and she was too wrapped up in the memory of his arms around her to even chastise herself for the giddy, lovestruck somersaults her heart was doing.

When she stopped by his office the next day, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it as she had done earlier in the week; him watching her from his desk; a smile hiding behind the suspicion on his face. “What do you want me to do now?” he asked - the look on his face said he knew something was coming and he was resigned to the fact that he’d agree to whatever it was, so long as it would make her happy.

She was ready to throw him out of his groove, though.

��You were wrong,” she said, simply.

He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “And how do you work that one out?”

“It wasn’t lying. Last night, at dinner with Katie.”

He frowned, leaning forward again, and much as she’d done the last time they’d talked about this, she took the seat opposite him, a defiant look on her face. 

“It wasn’t lying because I wasn’t pretending. And I don’t think you were either.”

He took a second to respond, studying her face for a moment, uncertainty in his expression, “You wanna loop me in on what’s happenin’ here?”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true the whole night - everything I said about how we met, how our relationship changed over time, none of that was a lie.”

In another echo of their earlier conversation, there was a brief second where his eyes widened; the disbelief on his face lingered longer this time, though. His voice was low when he responded, gesturing between them with his right hand, “I told her I was your boyfriend.”

“Maybe that wasn’t a lie,” she said, reaching across the desk and taking the hand he had in the air into her own, “Maybe it was just… a little early.”

“Amanda?”

“I wasn’t pretending to have feelings for you, Dominick,” she brought his hand down to the desk, their fingers still intertwined. 

“You, uh, you weren’t?” He asked, his eyes moving between her face and their joined hands.

“You said your problem with the whole thing was the pretence,” she said, struggling now to remember the words she’d rehearsed in her head on the way over here. “But I think we just haven’t, uh, admitted the truth to each other - about how we both feel, about how… how if we’re not together, we- we should be.”

Sonny smiled - at first, a small, giddy little smile, then a grin that was equal parts joy and mischief, “I’m pretty sure that still qualifies as lying,” he said, looking pleased with himself. 

“Don’t go all lawyer on me,” Amanda said, “Lose the argument for once; it might be worth it.”

 Four months later they flew down to Atlanta for Katie’s wedding. 

No undercover operation required. 

[talesofphantombandits]

JJ One Shot ~ Always Believe in you.

So this is my second time writing this Intro and the last part of this story because while I went off for one second to find a photo to use, my tab decided to refresh.  So I lost everything.

NOT HAPPY.

Here we go again. So I just finished Outer Banks, AMAZING. Must say the first few episodes I struggled with but then when I got on episode 4 that’s when I started really getting into it and from then on I was hooked. At the start my first impression of JJ was ‘dam this dude is so handsome’ then it turned into ‘Jesus this boy has issues’ and ended with ‘OMG PROTECT THAT BABY AT ALL COSTS’ So yeah......

There might be a second part with these two, I had another idea for another scene. But we shall see how this one does first. 

Pairing: JJ x Reader. Warnings: Mild language.

Summary: Y/N was forced by her parents to go to Italy to see some family, the only hitch her phone was taken off her after landing and put in a safe so she couldn’t talk to anyone back home. Safe to say your parents didn’t approve of you dating JJ and hanging out with the rest of the crew. Seen as they only told you this after landing, snatching the phone right out of your hands at the airport you didn’t have time to tell them you wouldn’t be able to communicate, they probably thought you’d forgotten them. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what JJ though. Safe to say he wasn’t very forthcoming when you saw him again.

(I will look over this tomorrow for mistakes, I’m just so angry right now that it was ready to post and then It didn’t save. So sorry if there is mistakes)

I’d been in Italy for the past few months, my family had decided that sometime away would be good for all of us. 

I hadn’t had any communication with the guys during the stay in Italy, which meant JJ too. I’d been cut off, “They were bad for you.” That’s what my dad told me but I loved them they were what true friends, true family was made of. It had broken my heart to leave JJ alone he’s been through hell and still going through it, but it was a little relief to know that he had John B, Kiara and Pope looking out for him. 

We were coming home for the Midsummer's party, It happens every year but my family insist on being there. To ‘keep up appearances’ they just wanted to keep their social status.

We arrived back home at about 7am, the only thing on my mind was raced up to my bedroom to take a nap. God I were exhausted, what I really wanted was to go straight to see the guys but that was impossible my parents weren’t letting me out of their sight. 

I woke up about 4pm and decided now would be a good time to take a shower and get ready for the party. I knew that Kiara would be there so that gave me a sense of hope and  motivation to look my best. I picked out a dark green velvet dress, deciding to do some darker makeup and curly my short shoulder length hair. When I was satisfied with the look, I got the black platform heels out of the bottom of my closet and sat on my bed while strapping them.

“Hey you ready?” Mum stood at the bedroom door putting in her earrings. 

“Yeah, as I’ll ever be.” I sighed rolling my eyes, I got up from my bed, heading to the door.

“You behave tonight.” My dad passed a kiss to the top of mums head on his way pasted, pointing his finger at me.

“No promises.” I said under my breath.

Walking down the stairs I waited in the front room on my phone until everyone was ready to leave.  My mind wondered to JJ, I wondered what he’d been up to and how he was coping with his father. My eyes started to brim with tears, I felt so bad leaving him without no contact but it was hardly my fault. I’d feel better when I could finally escape and see him.

Arriving at the party the first person I saw was Kiara looking extremely bored, sipping her drink leaning on the wooden railing outside.

“KIE!” I screamed, running as fast as my heels would take me.

“AHHH! Y/N!!!!” She screamed back and held her arms open wide.

She gave me a bone crushing hug. “God I’ve missed you!” I whispered in her ear. 

“Me too! why didn’t you call or text? We were all starting to worry that you were never coming back!” We, we were starting to worry. I gave her a sad look.

“Yeah about that, I was cut off.” She looked at me sympathetically. “They locked my phone away, said I needed to keep away from you guys.”

“You better tell that to JJ when you see him.” 

“What, why?” I said confused.

“He erm kind of thinks you’re ignoring us, and abandoned him.” She said looking at the ground.

“Why would he think that? I said breathlessly. The thought of JJ thinking I abandoned him broke me.

She just shrugs. “Who knows what’s going on in that head of his. We tried to tell him that it was probably your parents stopping you but.” She gestured off.

“He doesn’t listen.” We both chuckled softly.

“I’m glad you’re back, I know you’ll be able to sort it out with him. I’m glad you can be here to help me cope with this party.” She smiled sweetly at me patting her hand on my bare shoulder.

“Me too.” I smiled back as we went to sort out drinks for ourselves.

A few hours had past and Kiara told me that her and Sarah had sorted their differences out, that they were now friends now. I was very surprised at first but happy because that meant that there would be no awkwardness when I started dancing with Sarah and her sister on the dance floor.

This was the happiest I’d felt in a while, just dancing and loosing myself in the music.

Just then a arm came over my shoulder, I looked at it then at Sarah who stood in front of me confused.  She inspected the note in the hand. “From Vlad.” I knew that voice! Sarah took the note, smiling into it and rushing off.

I turned to come face to face with JJ. He was wearing smart black pants, a crisp white top and a strange coloured bow tie. He stared me dumbfounded, I looked down to his chest.

“That bow tie is horrible.” My eyes snapped to his face as he scoffed at me. When I finally studied his face I could tell he wasn’t happy, and I finally noticed the scratches all over his cheeks and the bust lip that looked all swollen.

My smile fell. “ JJ your face, what happened.” I raised my hand to cup his cheek but he slapped it away. I looked at him shocked, It wasn’t violent but there was enough force in it to make me flinch. 

He looked angry now, he step backwards then shook his head and turned to leave.

“JJ!” I stepped to follow him but my dad caught my arm, pulling me to go chat with his friends.

“Y/N I want you to meet someone.” My dad introduced me to a tall dark haired preppy boy, he looked my age. He also looked very familiar.

“Hi.” I said uninterested, my mind still on JJ but mainly the state his face was in. 

“I’ll let you two talk, you both have a lot in common.” That snapped me out of the daze at the words of my father, was he seriously trying to set me up with this tool? and how did he know what likes I had, I don’t think he knew me at all.

I looked up to the guy next to me, he was smirking down at me. It made me feel sick.

“Look sorry to disappoint.” I patted him on the shoulder. “But I’m already seeing someone.” 

I went to walk away but he called out. “That’s not what your dad says, So either you’re lying to me to get me to go away. Or you’re dating someone daddy wouldn’t approve of.” 

I turned giving him an unimpressed face. “What’s your name?” 

“Rafe.” I scoffed.

“As in Sarah’s brother?” He just nodded at me enthusiastically.  I just laughed. “Yeah no chance in hell.” 

I walked off to find Kiara. 

___________

I was speaking with Kiara and her family when JJ frantically entered the room being pushed around by a security guard, he was screaming and shouting. Me and Kiara just looked at each other concerned.

“What the hell.” I whispered under my breath. “Hey! Let go of him.” 

The security guard didn’t let up and pushed him further towards the porch. 

“It’s okay everybody, do not panic leave it to the men and women in uniform.” Everyone had slowly turned to look at who was making and fuss. Me and Kiara had slowly started to move towards the centre of the room.

“What is he doing?” I said to Kie.

“I have no idea.” She looked at me concerned.

“You can’t just boot him!” Kiara shouted to the guard. 

“I invited him here.” I said.  JJ turned to look at me but rolled his eyes, deciding to focus on Kiara instead.

I looked at him then turned slowly to look at Kie.  Both our parents where telling us to back down and shut up, but we weren’t going to take that.

Suddenly he’d pushed the guard away and turned back to Kiara. “Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” 

He didn’t even look my way. 

“Pope, you as well. All right?”  He turned to leave off the porch still shouting at Kie and Pope to follow him. 

Kie grabbed my hand, I looked around confused but decided that JJ probably wouldn’t want me to follow. I told her I couldn’t, she stopped dead for a bit looking at me sadly. Her mother and father started tugging at her so she had to get away leaving me standing there staring at them all run off happily into the distance.  I sighed and decided to leave, clear my head. 

“I’m going for a walk.” My parents tried to get me to stay but fat chance that was happening, I didn’t want to be at this stupid party in the first place.

___________

I just let my feet lead me, I must have been walking Idly until I stopped at the smell of burning wood. I looked up to find my feet had carried me to John B’s house, If the others where going to be anyway they were going to be here. I sighed deep and prepared myself for the argument that I didn’t want to have but it was killing me that I had been home less than a few hours and I hadn’t touched JJ yet.

I walked around to the back where the smell was richer now, I looked to the left to find all four of my friends by the campfire. I walked over trying to think of something to say when a twig snapped under my heels.

They all turned quickly to look at me.  “Y/N!! You’re back! why did no one tell me she was back.” John B rushed to me and tackled me into a hug.

Least someones happy that I’m back.  He carried me in our hug the short distance to the fire and set me down beside Pope, who already had his arms outstretched for a hug.  I just smiled at him and gave in. 

“We’ve missed you! how come you didn’t call?” John B patted my thigh.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yeah about that-” 

“What are you doing here?” I’d only heard the cold tone JJ was using when he talked about his dad. I never knew one day it would be directed at me. “I thought you’d get the message not to follow us when I didn’t call your name at the party.” 

“JJ.” Kie warned.

“What is wrong with you?” I could feel the lump forming in my throat. “I’m going to explain everything.” 

“I don’t want to hear it.” He stared at me with such malice, a sharp pain shot through my chest.

I stared at him but his face just seemed to harden more.  Finally I broke contact when I felt the first tear fall. 

“Fine.” I said quietly, I hoped no one would hear the crack in my voice. Luckily it was dark enough that I hoped no one noticed the tear flowing down my cheek. 

I got up and walked away without a word. I heard Kie call JJ a dumb ass as I turned the corner. When I got back to the road I bent over, my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath. Tears were free flowing now, I looked down both directions of the road. I could go home or go to my secret spot on the beach.

I decided that the beach would probably be best, I could cry it out and regain myself then go back home like everything was okay.

_________

I’d finally calmed myself down when I heard someone climbing up the dune to my right.  What I wasn’t expecting was to see JJ’s face pop up. 

“Hey.” I said quietly, a massive contrast from earlier. 

I just stayed silent, looking straight ahead to watch the moon reflect off the surface of the water. It always looked so beautiful and calming to me, that’s why I came out here when I was mad or upset. 

He came and sat next to me but not too close.

“I’m a jerk I know.” I just scoffed.

“That’s a big understatement.” I’d stopped crying a while ago but I could still feel the breeze making the tear stains cold.

“Kie told me.” I could see him mindlessly playing with the sand. “I should have heard you out, I’m sorry.” He dipped his head low.

I sighed deeply, the marks on his face are obviously a sign that his dad had beaten him again. they where fresh as well. I wanted to be so mad at the way he treated me but I just couldn’t bring myself to be mad anymore. 

I turned to look at him and reached for his hand. “What happened to your face JJ.” I whispered as if not to startle him.

“My dad.” He sniffed and interlocked our fingers.  I turned to fully face him, putting our hands on my lap. 

“Me and Pope did something stupid, Pope was going to get arrested for it but I couldn’t let that happen. He has a scholarship to look forward to, and a future I don’t. So I took the fall for both of us.” He looked at me now, tears brimming in his own eyes. “Dad came to bail me out, then proceeded to beat the shit out of me in the car.” 

I shut my eyes, my lip quivered.  When I opened them his tears had began to fall. I scooted towards him cupping his face and wiping away the tears pooling on his cheeks.

“Hey, It’s okay. I’m here.” He leaned forward in to me and put his face in my neck. He started sobbing now, I could feel the wetness on my collarbone.

All I could do was sooth him and rub his back. 

When he’d calmed I lifted him to sit up straight.  “You never have to hide from me JJ, I’ll be here supporting you forever.” 

He just smiled reaching up to turn strands of hair from my face that the breeze had blown everywhere. 

“What would I do without you?” He leaned in, I met him half way. Our lips met in a sweet kiss. “Now that’s how I should have greeted you at the party.” He smiled closing his eyes to savour the moment, leaning our foreheads together.

“Would have been a better greeting.” I just laughed.

I grabbed his hands and pulled him up with me, Slowly making my way down the dune.  “Where are we going? You’re not going to kill me are you?” 

“Maybe.” I said absentmindedly, he stopped short dragging me back until I crashed into his chest. 

“Ouch, why’d you stop.” I looked up at him.

He looked down at me dumbfounded. “You just told me you’re taking me to murder me.” 

I huffed. “Babe, it was a joke. I just want to walk along the beach, at the edge of the waves with you.” laughing at him now with his cute little pout.

He leaned over me, snatching my heels out of my hand. “lets go then.” 

The silence was beautiful, it was dark and the only sounds were waves crashing against each other.  This had always been my favourite past time with JJ, this is when the boy who had the most chaotic energy was the most calm. I thought it was a simple treasure that only I got to see this side of him, let alone that I was the only one that could bring out this calm in him. 

He stopped again, but this time he hugged me from behind. His head leaned on top of mine as we just took in the sea and the moon.

Things were definitely going to get worse before they got better, little did I know just how bad they’d get.

[writingwithbella]

Old Scars/Future Hearts: Salty Like A Summer’s Day

series summary; one summer. one tour. six people. touring with your older brother and the band he manages is supposed to be fun. you get to be with all of your favorite people, go to different cities, and jam out to shows every night. so why is pope so set on making your experience a living hell?

pope heyward x routledge!reader 

2.4k words (👁👄👁we really went off with this first chapter ngl)

a/n: yay! first chapter in @bricksatanakinswindow​ and I’s new fic! We are both very excited to share this with you and would love to hear what you have to say on the first chapter! this fic is definitely going to be a wild ride, but one we hope you enjoy as much as we do!

JJ Maybank sees you first.

He’s booking it across the parking lot, his hat close to flying off his head and his backpack slapping violently against his back as soon as you step out of your car. You’re too focused on tugging your charger from the port to realize he’s barreling towards you at full speed. When you finally look up, you have less than ten seconds to brace yourself before JJ is slamming into you, squashing you between him and the car.

“y/n!” he shouts, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “JB said you were coming but I said I wouldn’t believe it ‘til I saw it. You know how flaky you can be, right?”

You roll your eyes and shove JJ off of you, a grin making its way onto your face. “Fuck off, Maybank. I always keep my promises.”

Before he can answer you, another voice sounds from the other end of the parking lot in the same tone of elation as JJ. “Thank god!”

Kie’s making her way towards the two of you, a radiant smile on her face. She looks as beautiful as ever, her hair falling behind her shoulders in curls. Her skin is glowing, and her eyes are bright. You move from JJ’s grip in favor of pulling Kie into a bone-crushing hug, a small giggle escaping your lips when she gasps.

“If I had to suffer through this tour without you or Sarah, I’d go insane,” she says, moving to drink you in. “You look good, y/n. When did you start wearing so much black?”

You laugh a little, shaking your head at her. The last time Kie had seen you, you were going through your pink phase. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, really, except for the fact that it wasn’t your style. You had experimented different styles over the past few years, deciding that a mixture of pretty much everything suit you. “Just recently. I decided it’s the right vibe for now.”  

“Well, I, for one, don’t care about clothes. Let’s go back to the bus,” JJ says, grabbing two of your bags. “John B. says he misses you. Surprising, right?”

“Shut up, JJ!” you and Kie say at the same time, falling into a fit of giggles as he rolls his eyes at you.

Kie links her arm with yours, guiding you towards the tour bus that would house you for the next four months. You had been excited when John B. had called and asked you to help him manage to band on tour. Your summer was originally going to be spent in your hometown, pretending your brother wasn’t traveling the country while you worked a minimum wage job.

But this option was much, much better.

You see John B. and Sarah before they see you. You can tell right away that your brother is smitten with Kie’s best friend. His attention is fully on her, a smile brighter than the sun painted on his face. You knew your brother like the back of your hand, having watched him fall in love with girls time and time again.

“Ah, so JB is already making moves?” you ask teasingly, resting your hands on your hips.

“Sarah Cameron does have that effect on people,” Kie comments.

You snicker, shaking your head at your brother. He is a hopeless romantic through and through. You could only hope Sarah possessed some of those traits.

“I was hoping JB was lying when he said you were coming along for the ride.”

Pope’s voice turns your blood into ice. He was the last person you wanted to see – the person you were dreading seeing. Pope wasn’t nice to you. There was no way around it. For some god-awful reason, Pope Heyward fucking hated you. And because you weren’t one to back down, you reciprocated those harsh feelings.

It was exhausting being around him, always being so angry and rude. But you weren’t going to let him push you around.

You turn on your heel, catching Kie’s eye. She sends you a pleading look, one begging you to be nice. You can hear her voice in your head; C’mon, y/n, it’s the start of the tour. Let’s not do this right away.

“I promised,” you say stiffly, your eyes raking over him lazily. You ignore the tug at your heart when you see him. He always looks attractive, but today especially, he seems to have turned up the heat. He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a Nirvana tank top, and his hat backwards. He looks like a tall glass of water, begging to be drank on a day as hot as this one.

But then he opens his mouth.

“We all know how hard it is to keep your promises,” Pope says dismissively. “Kie, did you see where JB left the keys? I want to get the AC going so we don’t all heat case.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” She replies offhandedly, gesturing towards the love-stricken boy. Pope rolls his eyes, but not frustratedly like he had with you. Rather, he seems amused, humored by the older boy’s antics. You scoff, but rather than begin the argument again, you turn to face Kie and JJ who are trying to ignore the obvious tension in the air.  

“This is gonna be so much fun!” JJ mocks, to which you and Kie laugh raucously, catching John B’s attention and breaking him out of his Sarah-Cameron-centered trance.  

“Alright, alright, calm down kids. Let’s get on the bus, I feel like I’m dying.” He pulls the keys out of one of the pockets of his cargo shorts and begins walking towards the bus. The rest of them follow after, lugging their suitcases and duffle bags behind them as if they had been walking for miles. Under his breath, Pope mutters.  

“That’s such a great idea, John B. I wonder who literally said that not ten seconds before?” You can’t help the snicker that you make at his words. He looks over at you, but before he can make whatever snarky comment had come to his mind, John B interrupts, opening the door to the bus and gesturing to the ample space within.  

Note your heavy sarcasm.  

“Welcome to your humble abode for the next four months. There’s a living room, a kitchenette, and in the far back, behind the curtain, the bunk space. Bunks are first come, first serve, so if you want a top bunk, I suggest you claim it now.” His words spark a race within the group and the six of you push and shove each other out of the way to claim your ideal bunk.  

You are reaching to seize the top bunk for yourself when a dark arm moves past you and places an olive green duffle bag on the undressed mattress. You turn to look at the owner of said arm and, unsurprisingly, find it attached to Pope, who is smiling innocently.  

“That’s my bed.” He laughs slightly, to which you cross your arms and stare him down with your most intimidating look. He laughs harder.  

“Really? I didn’t see any stuff on it saying that it was yours. No sign, no luggage. In fact, the only stuff on there is mine, so I think this is my bed. Sorry.” You can tell by the smile on his face that he is in no way sorry. But, it doesn’t matter. JJ and Kie are giving you both wary looks as if waiting for a fight to break out and this is going to be a four-month long tour. You will have plenty of time to annoy and argue with each other later.  

For now, for them, you’ll just grit your teeth and bear it.  

“Fine. I’ll just take this one. But, if I hear a single snore from you, I won’t hesitate to smother you with a pillow.” You place your stuff on the next bunk down, ignoring Pope’s looming presence behind you.  

“Fine, but one peep from you and I won’t hesitate to push you onto the floor.” You scoff.

“Fine.”  

It’s hours later that you find yourself alone with Kie, JJ and Pope having left to get either groceries or something they’d forgotten to pack, while John B is still attempting to woo Sarah by taking her to some park nearby. A sort-of goodbye to the Outer Banks before they depart for their four-month venture.  

“It’s so weird,” Kie mutters, sipping on a can of beer she’d pulled from the minifridge. The boys may not know how to pack the basics like a toothbrush or enough socks, but they’d remembered to stock every cool place in the vehicle with alcohols of all types from cheap beers to hard liquors.  

“What’s weird?” You reply, sipping on a cold beer of your own and staring out the tinted windows into the nothingness of the parking lot beyond. There really isn’t much to do on the bus when it’s just the two of you, resigning you to talking or staring—you at the outer world and Kie at her phone.  

“I feel like, I don’t know, we should all be at a dinner, celebrating us leaving for tour. Instead, we’re just sitting here, doing nothing, while everyone else does whatever. Just feels like a shitty start to tour.” You shrug, looking away from the window, and turn to face her, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in the entire time she talked.  

“Well, there’s still time for us to do all that. Maybe not a celebratory dinner, but we leave at 11 o’clock tomorrow. We could have a nice breakfast send-off.” She scoffs lightly, jokingly, and finally looks up from the screen to meet your eyes.  

“Very funny. I’m just saying, I thought tonight would be going differently, that’s all. I thought maybe we would all be sitting around a table and drinking and laughing and talking about all the things we want to do on tour. I thought we’d be trying to keep you and Pope from killing each other and be separating John B and Sarah so they didn’t try to fuck right there in front of us all. Instead we’re all separated and we’re drinking and I don’t know. I just thought things would be different.” You could definitely see where she was coming from. This isn’t how you thought tour would be starting off either, though you couldn’t say you were surprised. The group had never been very well-organized, so the idea that they are all on different pages doesn’t surprise you.  

“Well, there’s still enough time left in the day for me and Pope to start arguing again, so don’t discard that idea yet. But seriously, if you want to have a celebratory send-off, I can goad my brother into a breakfast thing tomorrow. I’m sure they’d all love to eat before the four-hour drive to Raleigh.” Kie shakes her head amusedly, looking down at the can in her hand.  

“Nah, I don’t want to force the boys to do anything they don’t want. If they want to start on a low note, that’s on them. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of group meals on the road, it’s kind of inevitable. Speaking of low notes, what the fuck is up with you and Pope?” You suspect that this was the motive behind the entire conversation—to get you to talk about Pope, but you can’t find it within yourself to be surprised.  

The tension between you and Pope has always been a point of contention within the group. No one within the group seems to know how it started, not even you. All you can remember is Pope meeting you and immediately treating you with hostility, which you returned because you didn’t know what else to do. Now, because you both possess deep friendships with every other member of the group, you are forced to tolerate each other's unbearable existences. But your friendships with the others doesn’t mean you won’t still make comments and pick fights with each other every chance you get.  

“Nothing new. He’s still an asshole and I still don’t know why. But I’m trying to be nice, for you and JJ. He just makes it so difficult. He keeps making little digs at me and stealing my bunk? He just keeps acting like a child! I don’t get it, what did I ever do to him?” Kie shrugs, but before she can reply, the door opens and the topic of your conversation enters with JJ, carrying multiple bags. At the sight of you, Pope’s expression sours.  

“Hey, so we got some basic needs for the road so we aren’t just eating junk all the time.” JJ tosses a bag to you, which you examine with an amused expression.  

“This is exclusively gas station junk food. There’s not a single healthy item in here.” JJ laughs, swiping the bag from your lap as he and Pope move past you and Kie to the kitchenette. Pope refuses to look at you.  

“Okay and? Fresh fruits would rot so fast, it doesn’t make sense to have them. At least these things will last.” JJ says, pointing at you.  

“Yeah, but my waistline won’t. We have to eat healthier, even if it means buying fruits and veggies and eating them within the day,” Kie speaks. Pope rolls his eyes, but jokingly, like he’s amused by what she said. You’re sure that if you had said the same thing that he would be going off on you or making comments. It’s frustrating to you that he held you to a different standard than his other friends.  

“I’m going to bed, guys, you all have fun,” you mutter, chucking your empty beer can into the trash can in the kitchenette and maneuvering past the confused boys. You just don’t have it in you to deal with Pope at the moment and it makes more sense for you to just remove yourself from the situation entirely rather than listen to Pope make snide remarks towards you all night.  

You dress quickly for bed and ensure the curtain is closed before you slide into your bunk, covering yourself with the blanket you had packed, not realizing the beds wouldn’t come with any sheets. You’d have to buy something soon if you were going to survive the next four months.  

As you lay still in the bunk, eyes open despite your pleas for sleep to come quickly and easily, you hear Pope’s voice cut through the silence of the bus despite its hushed tones.  

“What’s her problem?” It’s said jokingly, a mockery at your expense, but the reply you issue within the depths of your mind is serious: you are.  

taglist; @sarahcxmeron​ @northcarolinanative​

[crashdevlin]

Crashing 2- Sensitive Compartmentalized

Crashing Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Four of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: Everyone wants to throw blame around about Cassie’s new personality, but does the blame really matter when she’s taken her birthright as head of Hydra?

Word Count: 4070

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, past Loki x OFC, past Bucky Barnes x OFC, past Steve Rogers x OFC

Chapter Warnings: mentions of brainwashing, mentions of murder, violence and anger

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

Cassie kicked in the door to the bar and looked around the dusty room. “Tell me there’s a SCIF in this dump.”

A short man with short salt and pepper hair approached her. “A what?”

She rolled her eyes. “A SCIF. Sensitive Compartmentalized Information Facility?” She groaned, adjusting the sheet of metal over her thigh. “A room with radiant foil in the walls that shuts out transmissions and WiFi and hackables.”

“Who the hell-” the man snapped as he started to grab her, but she grabbed the back of his head and bounced it against the bar.

“Heil Hydra,” she said, turning to the others. She pointed to one toward the back. “You. You dress like SHIELD. Were you?”

“Yes...uh, ma’am?”

“John Garrett, Grant Ward; these names ringing your bells?” she asked, wincing as she adjusted her grip.

“Yes, ma’am. Garrett recruited me to Hydra.”

“Were you with them when they took the Fridge?” she asked, smiling when he nodded. “They spent an hour, probably closer to forty minutes, looking for someone. You ever get a description of who?”

“Short, blond, green eyes...oh, my God, you’re her!”

“Awesome, no introduction necessary. SCIF?” she requested again. The young man nodded and rushed for a door labeled ‘Storage’. Cassie followed him into the room and leaned against the table in the SCIF. “Okay, what’s your name, man?”

“Derek Shipton,” he answered.

“I’m Cassie, Derek. Now, I need you to get me some needle-nosed pliers and some liquor. I have to cut a tracker out of this thigh, so I need you to get me a foil-lined metal box to put it in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said before rushing out. He came back almost immediately with her supplies.

“Thank you. Oh, and Derek? I need you to look up my file and give it to the guy who used to be in charge. He kinda needs to know why he’s not in charge anymore. Projekt Kind is the file. Once I deactivate the SCIF, bring in the guy I just demoted, okay? Thanks, Derek.” Cassie smiled as the man rushed out and she locked the SCIF down.

Cassie stripped her jeans down her legs and grabbed the knife she stole from Clint. The wound had already begun to heal itself, the flesh making its efforts to grow closed over the foreign object. She took a deep breath, grinding her teeth as she dug the knife deep into each side of the wound to reopen it and grabbed the pliers. The tracker had a little blue light that blinked a slow, consistent blink. She dropped it into the box Derek brought her and slammed the lid. As she pulled up her jeans over the already-clotting wound, she unlocked the door to the SCIF, prompting Derek to run in with a tall blond man with a beard following him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the blond man snapped.

She sighed and looked up at him. “Derek didn’t show you my file?” she asked, boredly.

“He wouldn’t even look at it, ma’am.”

“Hm, shame,” Cassie said, standing on a chair to give her the height to wrap her hand around the bearded man’s throat and lift him up off the floor. “I was hoping to do this without much blood. I mean, I know that death and destruction, that’s the Hydra way, but I wanted to keep as much of our ranks intact as possible. We’ve been dwindling a bit. SHIELD, Captain America, the Avengers, even Ultron took out some of our high-level heads and there just aren’t two for every one anymore. I want as many of you to stick around as possible...but that doesn’t mean I’m against killing you for disrespecting me.”

She dropped the man to his feet but kept her hand wrapped firmly around his throat. “If you’d bothered to open that file, you’d know why Herr Whitehall wanted me. You’d see that I am the second daughter of Johann Schmidt.” The man’s eyes widened slightly. “You’d see that I was bred to lead and taught to kill at an early, early age. You’d see my trained proficiency with all manner of weapons and my specifically engineered IQ. Now, the only thing you wouldn’t see is the genetic fiddling that happened a few years ago that made me just...like...Daddy.”

She chuckled. “Minus the complexion issues, of course.” She licked her lips. “You will follow me...or you will die. I will tear you to pieces, just as an example and don’t...not for one second, think you can get the better of me. Do you understand?” The man was silent, looking at her in fear. “Verstehst du?”

“Yes. Yes, I understand,” he whispered.

She smiled and jumped down off the chair, letting go of his neck. “Great! I’m Cassie Campbell. You are?”

“Karl...Kraus,” he whispered, his hand going to rub at his throat.

“Awesome. Now, full disclosure, just in case it comes up...I was hanging with the Avengers for a while. I was confused, there were some identity issues...trying to be a good guy but I got over that. I’m ready to do what needs to be done now, in order to usher in the next great age and I hope you’re with me on that.”

Karl looked from Cassie to Derek, who just stared at his feet. “You’re...you’re the Red Queen. From the Battle in Sokovia.”

“Yeah. It’s not important. I’m done with them. The Avengers are the past. Hydra is the future. What do you say, Karl Kraus? You wanna help me?”

“Do I actually have a choice?” Karl asked.

“Well, you were very dismissive when I first got here, Karl, but I will still give you a bit of a choice.” She pulled open the door and walked out of the SCIF. “You can choose to stick around and support me, or you could choose death.”

Derek followed close behind her and Kraus sighed loudly as he stayed behind. “Not much of a choice.”

Cassie walked over to the bar and grabbed the first bottle that caught her attention, twisting the cap off and gulping down what turned out to be dark rum before turning to the Hydra agents. “My name is Cassie Campbell. I am the daughter of Johann Schmidt and I am going to be your new...leader. Your new queen,” she said with a smile. “I doubt any of you have met my sister Sinthea. I mean, I haven’t either, but you’ve heard the stories about her and our father but you don’t have to worry because I’m not like her.” 

She sighed and shook her head. “But I have no time for questions or bitching. You will follow orders or you’ll get cut loose. You do what you’re told, I won’t kill you. It’s that simple. I will, of course, need files on everyone. Your names, numbers, ranks, blah blah blah. Shipton and Kraus will be in charge of that. When I’ve found a place to bunk down, I’ll be back. If you don’t support me, then leave quietly while I’m gone. There’ll be no retaliation for the lack of faith.” She nodded at Derek before walking out, bottle in hand, as the Hydra agents in the bar started to whisper amongst themselves.

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

“What do you mean, you were too late? Romanoff couldn’t stall her?” Fury’s voice could be heard throughout the farmhouse dining room, even though Coulson’s phone wasn’t on speaker. The house was full of sad, silent, seething people who couldn’t decide who they were angry at.

“An arrow to the leg couldn’t stall her, Nick,” Steve said, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at his feet. “She was determined not to have her memories wiped again.”

“Put me on goddamn speaker.” Phil fiddled with the buttons on his phone. “She what?” Fury snapped.

“She knew you were going to wipe her memories so she ran to avoid going through that again. Hydra wiped her several times and then SHIELD did, too,” Bucky spoke up. He pushed his hair out of his face with the new prosthetic Cassie provided him when she woke him up. He looked around the room at the others. “Knowing that there are pieces of your memories, pieces of you, missing that you can’t even identify...that’s so much worse than knowing what Hydra made us into.”

Clint growled deep in his chest, finally deciding who he was angry with. “This is your fault!” he shouted, glaring at Bucky.

“Excuse me?” Bucky asked. “I wasn’t even here when-”

“Barton, calm down,” Steve said, stepping protectively in front of his best friend as Clint jumped to his feet.

“No! We were fine!” Clint fought the urge to clench his left fist as his right hand went to the empty holster for his knife. “We were happy and we were gonna be married until you came in with your ‘kindred spirits’ hunky emo guyliner bullshit! She would be in this mess if you hadn’t convinced her to freeze herself so that Loki could grab her. She hadn’t had any issues with him in months! He was leaving her alone but you served her up on a silver fuckin’ platter and how could he resist?!”

“He never stopped watching her. He was trying to endear himself to her by helping her, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Bucky asked, standing. He pushed Steve a bit as he leaned closer to the archer. “You’re just her ex-fiance and that’s because you were such a self-absorbed crumb that you couldn’t even tell when her insomnia got to her. You couldn’t tell when her nightmares took over.”

“I knew she was remembering, Barnes! You think I’m an idiot?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Bucky responded, calmly. “I think you’re worse than that. I think you act like an idiot to disguise the fact that you’re an asshole. I didn’t convince her to go into cryo, you did...because she knew that you would treat her different if you knew she was a killer. Something about you looking at me like I’m a rabid dog and her not being able to deal with you looking at her the same way. She just knew you wouldn’t love her if you knew she was a monster. So it’s not my fault, Barton, it’s yours.”

Clint’s eyes went wide. “She’d already sent you to kill Steve! She was beyon-”

“Shut the hell up!” Fury yelled, pulling the men’s attention from their fight. “This is not Sergeant Barnes’ fault and it’s not Barton’s either. This is my fault. I should have grabbed her when she was in Africa, wiped her before she ever made it to the Wakandan Border.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed. “Wiping her is what caused this whole-”

“I appreciate your input, Sergeant, but wiping her would have ended this just as much as it started it,” Fury interrupted.

“She would have known that something was wrong. She’s known something was wrong the whole time,” Steve spat toward the phone.

“A temporary solution is still a damn solution, Rogers.”

“Whatever. What are we going to do about her now?” Natasha asked, moving from standing next to Clint to be closer to Coulson’s phone. “She’s decided she’s Hydra. We can’t wipe her without getting rid of everything that made her Red Queen.”

“We could add new memories...similar memories,” Phil responded.

Steve looked around the room at everyone. “So, what, we’re just going to find her and erase her again?”

“Is that not better than letting her try to kill everyone she cares about?” Wanda finally spoke up.

“Maybe she’ll leave everybody alone if we leave her alone. Let her live her homicidal dreams with the Nazis.” No one could really tell if Barney was joking.

“Was that your brother, Barton?” Fury asked.

“Yeah. I live here,” Barney defended.

“He kinda lives here,” Clint corrected. “He’s the one that shot her, since…I am not gonna be shooting anything any time soon.” He looked down at his hand.

“You could always pick up a gun again and shoot righty,” Nat suggested.

“I don’t want to pick up a gun! Not if we’re going after her.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have to be the one to say it,” Sam said, looking upset to be in that position as ‘the one to say it’. “She was more than willing to kill all of us. She sent Barnes to attack Steve. He’d be dead if I hadn’t pulled distraction.” He gestured at Clint. “She was gonna do a lot worse than a broken hand to Clint. She’s taken up with her father’s Nazi friends and I, for one, can’t back rehabilitation for a Nazi. She’s not our Red Queen anymore. She’s gone so far darkside that even Loki thought it was a good idea to give her some space. The school-approved solution for evil is not wiping memories. School-approved solution’s exactly what Steve did to her dad.”

“We can’t kill her!” Clint and Steve exclaimed at the same time.

“Then capture and incarcerate,” Natasha suggested. “Put the Raft to the use it was actually made for.”

“Has anyone called Stark?” Steve asked, suddenly. “He’s going to need to know. Rhodes, Vision, they’re all in danger.”

“I already made that call. It wasn’t pleasant,” Fury answered. “Of course, now I need to update him that she escaped. I am not happy to be making that call either.”

“Let us know what Stark says,” Steve demanded before walking out of the farmhouse. Bucky followed close behind. “This is our fault, Buck. We should have had Nick Fury come get her after she killed that warlord in Africa.”

“That’s not our fault. She didn’t want to go with him. You know that. She wanted to be with us.”

“Did she?” Steve snapped. “Or did we just want her with us? What if we just wanted her and she remembered, got taken by Loki and remember all this horrible stuff, because we wanted her?”

Bucky shook his head. “She got out of the Raft and she could’ve gone home but she didn’t. She took Loki’s help to come find us in Egypt. She wanted to be with us and we did the right thing taking her to Wakanda. She shouldn’t have gone on ice, but when we did it, it seemed like the best option. We didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Steve scoffed. “And now she wants to kill us and take over the world. She was such a good woman when she went in.”

“She still is,” Bucky argued.

“After what she’s done, you can’t say that.”

“I can. I believe she still is. I mean, look at me,” Bucky said.

Steve sighed. “It’s different. You were brainwashed. She’s not. She’s the opposite of that. She’s had all her brainwashing taken away. She’s who she was supposed to be now.”

“No. Who she’s supposed to be is the same woman who dropped everything to come help us in Germany and who trekked through Africa with us. That’s who she’s supposed to be, and she can be again.”

“I hope you’re right, Buck.”

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

Tony walked into his penthouse of Stark Tower and headed for the bar. “Lights.” He looked perplexed as he stayed in the dark. “Friday, lights.”

“Hope you don’t mind, boss,” a voice from the closest sofa made him turn, instantly alert. “Thought we might be better off just the two of us so I told Friday to take a nap.”

The sight of the blond woman sitting with her back to him, a drink in her hand, shouldn’t have made him so nervous, but it did. “My suit?” he asked. He had ways to call the suit, even without Friday, but it would be more than a little difficult. 

“These bracelets look so much better on me, don’t you think?” She raised the hand that wasn’t holding a good crystal tumbler of his best scotch to show off the remote to summon his suit. “Come have a seat, Stark,” she commanded.

“You don’t need my suit to kill me, Cassie,” Tony said, not budging from his spot behind her.

“I’m not here to kill you, boss. I came to you because you’re the only one I knew would actually talk to me...without any of the bullshit about trying to send me to Fury. Come have a seat, please.” Her tone was desperate but not angry, so Tony walked down and sat on the sofa across from her.

“You look like crap,” Tony said, candidly, as he looked over her. She was paler than normal, her eyes ringed with dark circles.

She let out a scoffing chuckle. “I feel...like I’ve been put through a blender. All of this...got so out of hand. I remember now. Those words they put in my head, they were just to make me remember.” She leaned forward slightly. “See, Strucker wiped me when SHIELD showed up so I’d be able to deny everything if SHIELD asked. I’d be able to pretend to be normal because I wouldn’t know that I wasn’t. I guess Wolfgang forgot the part where he comes and gets me back from Fury...or maybe I was supposed to stay at the Fridge until they revealed themselves and killed SHIELD, I don’t know.”

“Remembering your shitty childhood made you evil? Pretty sure every Avenger on the roster has that box checked and Vision never had a childhood.”

“I didn’t want this,” she whispered, looking away and taking a drink. “I didn’t send Bucky to kill Steve. He’ll remember that once someone actually asks him what his mission was. I just needed Bucky out of stasis because Loki has the red book and I couldn’t risk Loki using Bucky against us. I sent him to the new base because I knew Steve wouldn’t let anything happen to Bucky and he’d be safe with the one man who would move Heaven and Earth to keep him that way.” 

She ran her hand across her mouth and leaned forward more. “I was going to try to ease into telling Clint the truth...what I remembered I did in the past, the changes that happened when I remembered, but...I said one word, one thing that wasn’t what Clint thought his woman should say, and he attacked me.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before shaking her head. “I had to make a split-second decision: grovel at his feet, apologize for the woman I am now, the woman I was always supposed to be...beg him to love me and tell him how much I want to change and be the woman he fell for…” She shrugged and leaned back into the back of the sofa.

“Or be the woman he decided I was in the moment before he hit me. I couldn’t bring myself to go the weak route, not after so many years doing just that, so I had to commit to the Hydra angle and for me to do that, you all have to either leave me the hell alone or die.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “You aren’t even gonna give the rest of us a chance to get to know the new you?”

“If Clint, who swears he loves me, can’t deal with the new me then why should I expect the rest of you to be okay with me?”

“Cass...people change. We can get to know the person you are now if you let us,” he offered.

“The man supposedly blinded by love couldn’t deal, Tony,” she exclaimed softly. “I’m too different. I’m colder, angrier, more prone to violence. I like violence, and the smell of gunpowder the-the snap of broken bones. I am so not the Cassie you know.”

“Okay, so there’s a little more Red Skull in your Red Queen,” Tony said, leaning forward to grab a tablet from the table between them. “But you don’t wanna kill us, Skipper.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Of course I don’t. You’re the only family I have.” She licked her lips and shook her head in exasperation. “But if it comes down to a question of me killing all of you or me being sent back to Fury for him to wipe me clean and become the person he and Clint think I should be...I will shed a tear for each of you and then I will move the fuck on with my life.”

“I know you, Cassie. You’re one of the few people in this world that I’ve taken the time to actually, you know, know. Just because you’re a little angrier than you used to be doesn’t mean you need to go Dark Side. You can be Anakin without being Vader.”

Cassie smiled and looked into his eyes. “You think any of them will wanna talk to me now? With the woman I am now? I broke Clint’s hand and I enjoyed it. I sent Winter Soldier after Steve. I am the embodiment of everything Hydra wanted of me.”

“Not true,” he disputed. “You aren’t a Nazi. You’re just a little different. You could come back, be an Avenger. It’s really just me, Rhodey, and Vision right now, the Spider kid is a ‘sometimes’. We can get used to you.”

She looked conflicted as she took another drink. “I’ve already taken over Hydra, Tony. I’m fine to go all the way on this. I can even turn Hydra into a respectable organization, maybe even better than SHIELD. No secrets in my organization.”

“No, you can’t. Even the Avengers aren’t better than SHIELD,” Tony said, tapping on the tablet. “We’ve all got our secrets. We’ve all got our issues. Don’t write us off. Write off Barton, I don’t give a fuck, but don’t write me off. I don’t care if you have a rage issue. I mean, look how close I was with Banner.”

She sighed and leaned forward to set the glass on the table. “You really don’t care? You don’t care that Strucker had me brutally murder two SHIELD agents before my age was even in the double digits, or that I crushed an African warlord’s hyoid bone? You don’t care that I broke Barton’s hand and I relished the sound of his bones crushing under my foot?”

“I can get behind that, all of it. As long as you’re crushing the bones of the bad guys. I mean, you signed the Accords. You belong to the UN. As long as you’re breaking the bones of the guys they send us after, I don’t mind it. Look, this might not be you anymore…” Tony held up the tablet to show a picture of Cassie smiling with all of the lab techs in the Olympia lab. “...but I think you could still be this.” He swiped the screen to show a screen capture of footage from the battle of Sokovia. She was beating an Ultron into the ground next to the core, her fists through it’s metal face. “Red Queen was a little more violent than Cassie Campbell, but you always seemed more free when you were in the field. I liked that. Com’on, Red. You don’t have to be Hydra to be yourself.”

Cassie stared at the picture for a long few moments before she stood. “I’ll think about it...if you can guarantee me that I will not be erased again. Hydra wiped me, SHIELD wiped me. I just wanna be me. If you want me to trust you, Stark...and I desperately want to be able to trust you...I need assurances that I will not be wiped by the people who are supposed to be my friends.”

He stood as well, putting down the table and picking up what was left of the glass of scotch. “I won’t let anyone change you, Red. Never again.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a slight smile. “Should’ve come to you first. I was just really hoping Clint would give me the time.”

“That’s what you get for letting your heart guide you,” he chastised.

“Oh? And what exactly is guiding you to be so supportive of me, boss?”

“Ah, that’s all in my beautiful brain, Lab Rat.” Tony swallowed down the last bit of liquor as Cassie walked toward the elevator. “You’ll let me know what you decide?”

“I’ve got your number.”

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

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​ @wasabiwitteks​ @rainbowkisses31​ @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661​ @officiallyunofficialperson​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​ @gayspacenerd​ @foxyjwls007​ @ilovefanfic86​ @marvelfansworld​ @f-yeahfandoms​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @hhiggs​ @sev3nruby​  @hobby27​ @paintballkid711​ @divadinag​ @thewhiterabbit42​ @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @superfanficnatural​ @letsby​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @swinchester27​ @chalicia​ @sunnyroadtrips​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @dayasvalkyrie​ Hero Tags - @atc74​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @holylulusworld​

[sherlockfanficwriting]

Sherlock “Don’t let her drive!”  (x reader)

Summary - You’re helping your brother, Sherlock on a case. All seems to go well until the criminal soon emerges out of nowhere, hopping into a car. He drives away and you’re left to catch him. How will that turn out?

Warnings - none

A/N - hello everyone, enjoy this funny story. i am getting thru ur requests and send me some more! getting another story out tonight or tmr morning. I noticed u guys like the idea of a more human holmes sister - any ideas? Love u all!

You bent over, peeking behind a desk trying to look for any clues. 

“Find anything?” Your brother shouted from the corner of the room. It was getting late as you were helping Sherlock on a case. 

“I can’t find anything viable.” 

“(Y/N), Sherlock! Did you find anything?” John asked. You peered over your shoulder to see him standing next to Lestrade. 

“Not....yet.” 

“Bloody hell! There’s a dead woman laying on the floor in the room next to us and you have no idea who?” John’s voice seemed irritated. You had an idea who was behind all this. It was a man. It wasn’t his first time with murder. You scanned the floor and drawers as well as footprints. You found hair and looked over the woman’s body. You knew what he was wearing and what his build was like, but you couldn’t tell them just yet. 

“John, why don’t you be useful and leave us alone. And you too, Lestrade.” Sherlock said, kneeling on the ground with a magnifying glass. 

“He could be anywhere. He’s hot-handed and could kill again tonight, just like the other murders.” Lestrade said, walking away. 

“They’re so annoying. Goldfish.” You said to Sherlock, causing him to chuckle. 

“Oh, yes, indeed they are.” Someone else voice said.

Mycroft? 

You turned around and made out the silhouette of someone taller. “Mycroft, what are you doing here?” You asked. 

“Mycroft?” Sherlock said.

“Clearly the two of you need help, but I can not and will not be lying on this floor looking for....leads. However, this man is dangerous and we all think he’s going to strike again, perhaps tonight. I will be here for intelligence and.....support.” 

You saw Sherlock get up. “That’s it. There’s nothing here. I’m going out.” 

“I’m going too. I’ll get John and Lestrade.” 

“Bu-.” Mycroft said. 

“Brother, I love you, but we need to solve this from another angle. There’s nothing here that can help us.” Mycroft relaxes when he heard this and you saw him roll his eyes. 

You ran over to the next room and saw Lestrade standing next to John while he looked over the body again. “We’re leaving. You should come now.” You left the room before they could say anything. You noticed Sherlock in a separate hallway, looking at the walls. 

You walked up to him and quietly said, “He’s tall. He’s physically strong, but can easily be overpowered by a few people. Brown hair, almost balding. He’s angry. Large hands.” 

“He’s going to strike soon. But where?” He said.

You took his arm and said, “Let’s just go.” 

Lestrade, Mycroft, and John stood in the hallway, checking their phones. You walked past them as you heard Sherlock urge them to leave. You opened the front door and walked down the steps. The sky was dark and the air was cold, causing you to shiver a bit. You were walking to the curb when all of a sudden you saw a tall figure run from the side of the house and onto the street. You thought it was odd, but your mind set in for a second. It was him, the murderer!

“Sherlock!” You called out, sprinting to the door. “He’s here!” You turned around and saw the man getting into a car. Your scream startled everyone as they shuffled outside. 

“He’s getting away, the man!” 

“We have to stop him.” Sherlock said, turning around. The man zoomed off in his car. 

“Mycroft, where’s your car?” You asked him. 

“I don’t drive.”

“Mycroft!” The whole group exclaimed. 

“It’s right there!” He pointed to a dark car parked on the side. 

“Give me your keys!” You demanded from him. He shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a spare key. 

“Where is my driver?” He asked, confused. 

“Lestrade, drive!” You shouted to him. 

“I can’t drive!” 

You groaned, ran to the car and turned on the ignition. “Come on!” You shouted. Everyone sped into the car. 

“(Y/N), you can’t drive!” Sherlock said. 

“I’m going to have to!” 

You pressed hard on the gas, causing the car to speed forward. Sherlock, who was sitting in the driver’s seat flew forward as well as Mycroft, who was behind you. 

“(Y/N), go slower!” John said, lunging forward. 

“Lord, have mercy,” said Mycroft. 

“Dammit, I can’t see anywhere!” You cringed at your driving, but tightened the grip of the steering wheel and kept your eyes forward. The man only left not even a minute ago and you knew what the car looked like. You could get him. 

“You know where he went?” Lestrade asked. 

You pressed the gas harder, seeing the gray car down the street. “I see him!” Suddenly a car drove into the road as you ran past a stoplight. You swerved around causing yourself as well as everyone else to shift uncontrollably in their seats. 

“I’m sorry!” You cried out. 

“Who knew you were this bad at driving?” Mycroft said. You drove madly as you approached the car even faster. You twisted around the cars coming from the opposite direction. 

“Careful!” Everyone yelled. You continued to zoom through everybody. You swore you almost hit someone walking across the street. 

“He’s close!” Sherlock said. 

“I’ll corner him here!” 

The car neared a dead end as the gray car slowed down. You slammed the brakes as everybody jolted forward. You saw the man rush out of the car as you park yours. Sherlock flew out of the car to pursue him, as well as everyone else. After you pulled the key out, you followed. 

“Stop!” Sherlock cried out as he was chasing the man. You caught up to all of them. Suddenly a gunshot went off. 

Empty

The man stopped running and raised his hands in the air. 

“Horrible crimes you’ve committed,” Sherlock said. 

“You’ve been causing us lots of trouble,” Mycroft added. 

“Who are you?” The man said fearfully as he panted. 

You stepped in front of them. “We’re the Holmes.” 

[youngblizzardglitter]

Relationships

"So." She starts clearly and sitting properly. "Your little brother?" The teen nodded.

"He's?"

"About to turn twelve."

"And my husband's affair child?"

"By Stormy Tornado." He says wondering how she would react to her name. He didn't know his mother much but knew she was too much for some.

"Of course." She snaps pinching the bridge of her nose. "No offense." He laughs at it one of the better reactions.

"My mother had an energy very few could handle."

"We never got along with each other in our prime years. When she got her job in..."

"Being your husband's secretary and work manager. She always had papers when she came back home."

"Did she ever tell you about any of this?"

"No, not much. I heard phone calls and looked at papers my uncle filled me in."

"Where is he?"

"Dead. Died from an infection the same way mom my did. He leans back in the chair. " His was from too much drinking and hers was from not resting and getting help too late."

"Oh my goodness." Rose put a hand on his. "Am so sorry."

"Me too. I was nine about when Ace was two so about a year and a half later. Eight years ago next month."

"She died before she could file a case against him. And didn't believe it would matter too much that's when we moved to my uncle."

"Did you ever say goodbye?"

"Terry honey? Please take care of him for me."

"No."

"Am sorry. I lost my mother when I was younger as well."

"Do you need money?" She says getting his letters. "Most of this is expensive. And we haven't even opened the second one."

"You can open it and tell me what's in it. Am getting a headache."

"Milk sugar and cinnamon works wonders." She said as she used her nails to cut it open. She read-intensive not missing a beat Terry looked behind a curtain she pulled and saw people pooling out.

She cursed in Spanish.

"What?"

"Forgive me but this has made the situation worse. Because my husband has sued for custody it makes your case harder.

"Why do you seem so tense?" Ace asked looking at the older Tornado. His hands were shaking or holding the wheel too tight.

"Nothing. Am just keeping my promise and giving you to meet your brother."

"I met him yesterday he seemed fine."

"He wanted to meet you properly. And so does Rose." He turns to a light.

"Rose?"

"Yeah, you were at her party and her house the other day." Terry laughs realizing as he was too caught on his date with Nigel he didn't notice.

"Freckle honey-"

"Terry." He moans at the nickname. He was grown enough to not need it." No."

"What you think because you're a pre-teen you don't need a nickname?"

"Ace is my nickname." He says watching something bright past him.

"Okay Freckle." They pull up to Rose's home.

"Is my dad here?" He asks quickly he didn't want to see him just yet.

"No. He's been kicked don't worry about him." Terry opened his door for him as he waited too long. He didn't move but looked at Terry with betrayal his eyes begging him not to do this.

"Come on," Terry said hefting him up when Ace wouldn't move. Ace was heavier than he imagined but it was in a good way.

"Terry am your only brother do you want to do this? Hand me over to the people who killed mom?"

"Who might not give me back?"

Ace heard the door ring he tightened his hold on Terry him and his big mouth!

"Is he-?" A voice

"Awake." Terry placed him on the ground and made him face Steve he was really tall and broad. They had the same freckles plastered all over the place they had the same hair color and both a taste for sunglasses the nose was another factor.

"Little dude?" He asked looking down on him. "I get that am good looking but you don't need to stare." He smirks bending down a little to look at him. Ace looked and saw a few other teens laughing with him.

"Terry doesn't do this to me." He grabs his hand holding it tightly as he backed up. "You said you loved me."

"And you said you wanted to know Steve." Terry crouched down to him smirking.

"I say a lot of things I don't mean you raised me you know this."

"Just two hours it's fine-"

"What if he kills me? He's a child abuser!"

"Hey!" He barks. "Am right here!" They both made eye contact and then went back to Ace begging for his life.

"Terry I'll never disobey again. I'll do chores I'll do anything."

"You can do this for a start."

"...Money?"

"Whose money? Because am not giving it to you."

"Six hundred dollars?" He offers he never gave Terry money or anyone for that matter.

"You earned that money it's rude to take a paycheck." He says politely.

"What about-"

"Alejandro." He snaps

"Terrance." He says back pleading. Terry got up and sighed. "Come here, Steven."

"Steve." He says as they walked out for a few moments. Terry couldn't see what they were saying but knew by Terry's mannerisms he was in control.

"Okay then," Terry said handing Ace his phone. "Call if needed." Terry kisses him on the cheek. "I love you."

"If you did you wouldn't be so petty!" He yells as he walks away. Terry didn't look back and hopped in the car and left with much of a look back. "Don't have too much fun without me!"

"You gonna make that face the whole time your here?" He asks closing the door.

"Call him back for me."

"Kid am not going to kill you. I don't know what you heard but I just want to get to know you."

"Why?"

"You're my brother?" He said it like it was obvious

"Half brother." He strongly clarifies.

"No. We not doing that." He said angry and disappointed he shook his head.

"Then what are we doing?"

"Bonding let's get my car." He shakes a few keys in front of him smirking. It looked familiar.

"Does Terry know?" Terry would beat his butt if he knew what he was doing. Terry was scary when he was mad.

"If he knew everything I did he wouldn't allow me miles near you."

"..."

"Kid," Steve said impatiently as he made a face. "I will never try to kill you."

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

"What do you mean?" Terry asked taking the paper.

"Because someone is battling you for  custody it means you have to prove yourself a better parent." She says as he read it his headache getting bigger.

"Can't I sue back?"

"You're not Ace's mother or him. I don't think you can."

"He knew about him and didn't claim him. He was asked for money and denied it to my mother. That's got to count for something."

"Do you have proof?"

"Only that her injuries were from overworking herself." He sighs.

"I'll talk to him about it. If he never tried to get custody before I doubt now is for a good reason." She offers smiling trying her best to seem not antsy.

"Will that stop this?"

"...No. You still have to prove you're a good guardian by being investigated-"

"Investigated? For what!"

"When the court sees someone trying to get custody they will think something is up and look very deeply into it."

Ten minutes passed as Terry read and read that letter.

"Is there any way I could do?"

"You could-"

"Terrance Tornado?" A female said snapping him out of it. "Are you here?"

"Yes." He says getting up. "Am here."

"Mrs. John will see you in room 629." She says and calls out the next name.

He speeds walks through the place nerves raking through him he couldn't believe he had to do this. He stops in front of the door his head pounding from stress and tears building up.

"Take care of him for me." He breathed feeling like he couldn't do this. He had to no one else could. He couldn't ask Rose for favors anymore a parent needs to make ends meet and they don't rely on others.

"Terrance?" She asked looking up his file.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Anything I need to know about?" Her dark eyes made their way to his soul.

I nearly drank a wine bottle before I came here.

"No ma'am." His hands tighten on his knees as he bounced his fingers he had crosses his legs so as not fidget too much

"Do you know why you're doing this?"

"I need to prove am to perfect guardian to take custody of my younger brother."

"Good. And you know one mess up would  ruin your chances?"

"Yes." His eyes burned as he clawed his knee stress building fast.

"Well let's begin?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Age?"

"Fifteen."

"Full name?"

"Terrence Maxwell Tornado."

"Person your trying go have custody of?"

"Alejandro Mal Tornado."

"Age?"

"Ten."

"You are aware you way younger than eighteen? Can you tell me why you need this?"

"My uncle Ice Tornado recently passed. And I don't want Ace to be separated from me."

"Your parents?"

"Our mother is dead my father is unknown." He was never told who his dad was. When he asked she brushed it off quickly and changed the subject.

"You are aware Alejandro's father Fernando Bruno Fizz wishes to have custody of Ace?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Why is that?"

[yeetingmyfeeling]

Run, Run, Run!

Chapter Six

It was Friday, which meant time for Brian’s date. He sat on the couch in the living room waiting for Jon, Ryan and Jarren to get home. Jon and Ryan because they already have mates, Jarren because he also needs tips. 

Brian would look at himself in the camera on his phone with a frown. His eye was, messy. There was a scratch down it, and it was a lighter colour than his other bright blue eye. He usually wore a patch when he went out, and he guessed this is what he’ll be doing again today.

He ruffled his hair, his frown deepening. He really didn’t think he was all that attractive. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short. He had some muscle, but still some chub. People in the old pack always pointed that out. His hair was always messy, never going how he wanted it to. He just wasn’t that good looking. His most attractive feature was probably being a male omega.

Before his thoughts could travel any further, the front door open and in came chatter. He heard four voices. Peering over the couch, he saw the three boys he was waiting for and Brock. Brock gave him a kind smile. “Just had to drive the idiots home. I’ll stay out of your hair.”

“Brock, we said your welcome to join,” Jon argued, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, we get it, you’re straight. But we need to know what a man wants.”

Brock held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry man, uh, shit to do. Cooking dinner for those of us who aren’t going on a date.”

“There’s only one couple going on a date?” Ryan was confused. “They aren’t even a couple.”

“Not yet!” Jon pointed a finger in the other omegas face. “Not yet. Tonight will change this.”

“What about David?” Jarren questioned from behind Ryan. “Brian still has to go on a date with him, what if they end up becoming a couple?”

Jon grinned, and it was sinister. “Trust me,” He leaned towards the other two, dropping to a whisper. “There is so much sexual tension between David and Tyler.”

Brian didn’t hear what the last bit was, but he was curious. “You guys do know, I’m sitting right here?”

“Yes yes, we know,” Jon turned to Brian and ushered him up off the couch. The four made their way up to Brian’s room, Brian letting them all in. It was one of the smaller rooms, but Brian quite liked it. 

Brian sat down on his bed, Jarren coming over to sit next to him. Ryan faceplanted on to the middle of the bed, behind the other two. Jon was already rifling through Brian’s clothes. 

“So, how are Tyler and David going?” Ryan asked as he rolled on to his back. “They both came and said sorry to me, separately, for ruining my dinner. I thought that was nice, a surprise from Tyler.”

“Evan’s had them doing more work for the rest of the week,” Jon pulled out a shirt, wrinkling his nose at it then putting it back. “He almost was going to stop the dates, but decided they may actually help the buffoons.”

“I haven’t even seen them in the same room,” Jarren leant back on the bed, laying his head on Ryan’s stomach. “Tyler has been ‘busy’ at work, so when David is around the house he just hangs out with everyone else.”

“It doesn’t seem like the fight has gotten to them,” Ryan started running his fingers through Jarren’s hair. “They don’t seem depressed at all, it’s the same old same old. The only bad thing is, they don’t acknowledge each other.”

“Tyler is being a big baby,” Jon was starting a stack of clothes on Brian’s desk chair. “He doesn’t know what to do in this situation, and David thinks Tyler is the one who should man up. Which he’s right.”

“At least he manned up enough to finally ask Brian on a date,” Jarren let his eyes flutter closed. He soon let out a short laugh. “Actually, John told me he was getting a lift from Tyler one day. He had to walk down to the mechanic, which was only a half hour walk so he didn’t mind. When he got there, that Kelly chick was flirting up a storm with him. Tyler looked very uncomfortable.”

“He can’t man up enough to tell a woman no,” Ryan laughed. “I’m sure she’s nice, but christ that alpha is the biggest sook.”

Jon laughed at that. He had finally gone through all of Brian’s clothes and had gathered them in some outfits he thought would look nice. Brian sat there quietly while the three talked, just watching as Jonathan went through his clothes. “What are you thinking Brian? About everything between David and Tyler?”

“Do you think you know who you’re going to choose?” Questioned Jarren.

“Relax guys, let Brian think,” Ryan tapped Jarren’s forehead. “Brian, you don’t have to choose now, you don’t have to choose at all.”

“I want both of them,” Brian mumbled. The room was quiet. “They are both incredibly nice- even though Tyler can be a dick. They are attractive, and I just feel so drawn to them. I feel like I have to be by their sides, at the same time, and their scents. They just do something to my dumb omega brain.”

Ryan and Jon gave each other a look. It was like the ‘I too am an omega and understand exactly what this other omega is going through’ look. Jarren huffed a laugh. If Jon is right about Tyler and David, Brian could get what he wanted.

“I understand I’ll probably never get that,” Brian continued on. “It’s- they don’t hate each other, but it doesn’t seem like they overly like each other either. I wish I could get them to like each other more.”

“Maybe you should take them out on a date, both of them,” Jon suggested. “Maybe to the movies or something.”

Brian shrugged. “Maybe,” He stood up, walking over to Jon and looking at the outfits. “If it gets them closer, I’ll do it.”

Jon grinned, ruffling the omegas hair. Now, it was time to try on these outfits. Brian was not so excited for that. He had to try on three outfits, this was Jon’s command. Whatever came second best, would be for the date with David.

The first outfit was simple and laid back, Brian thought it was quite nice, but maybe not for him. It was a simple grey sweater that was slightly too large. The jacket was dark grey with a hood, but there was another denim jacket over the top. The jeans were black and tight, black boots on his feet. To top it off, a white scarf hung loosely around his neck.

Brian did a little spin for the three that sat on his bed. He walked from one side of the room to the other, then back in front of his friends. He raised an arm with a shrug.

“It doesn’t really speak Brian,” Jon shook his head. “This is not a fit.”

“So Brian, tell us, what do you think about Tyler,” Ryan asked. He was leaning on Jon’s back, head resting on his shoulder. Jarren lay with his head in Jon’s lap.

“Well, he’s tall and he’s built,” Brian thought, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “He has a nice air to him. He’s intimidating, and angry. While that may be a turnoff, it really just does something, you know? He’s clearly a dog person, which is great. He has soft looking hair, and a nice beard slowly developing. He’s not always an ass, sometimes very witty and funny. He has a voluminous laugh that makes me laugh. His eyes are like looking into the ocean when it’s bright, but you can see the stars. And he has this scent that is so.. Delicious.”

Brian blushed hard, realizing he went on a mini rant about how he thought the alpha was. The others just gave him a knowing look. “What about David?” Jarren asked.

“He is also tall, and very lanky. Plus he’s Irish, so he reminds me of home. I get a big sense of home from him. He smells like home, he- I haven’t touched him but I bet he feels like home. His accent, I know we have the same one, but it just sounds hotter on him. He is very sweet, though quite idiotic. But he genuinely cares, he just doesn’t know sometimes.”

“So if David feels like home, what does Tyler feel like?” Jon inquired.

“Like a safety blanket,” Was Brian’s answer. “I feel safe and warm with Tyler.” The others were very surprised by this answer.

The next outfit was a little nicer. At least Brian liked it more than the first. Also, apparently the jacket used to be Tyler’s. He hadn’t worn it for a while, so Jon stole it and handed it to Brian. One quick sniff and yep, it was Tyler’s. The outfit was a simple black shirt paired with black jeans, the jeans still a little tight. He wore brown boots, and they look just a little better than the black ones. The jacket. It was a dark red on the outside, and on the inside it was a white fluff. It was so soft and warm, Brian could lay in it forever. Only if it continued to smell like the alpha.

“That’s a definite maybe,” Jarren said. He smiled at Brian. “Look at how much he adores the jacket!”

“Maybe pile it is,” Jon nodded in agreement. “Brian, when you go into the date, just be yourself. You’re going to be shy at the beginning, but try to open up as much as you can.”

“Don’t do anything to piss him off for attention,” Ryan added. “I know you won’t, but both me and Jon made that mistake. Our mates are alphas, so is Tyler. Tyler has a lot more anger issues. If what our boys did was bad, then ooh boy.”

“Try and flirt, be that cute Irish boy I know you are,” Jon teased. “Compliment him, he loves having his ego boosted. Maybe show off a bit, but don’t get too drunk. Just be… lowkey, but there.”

The third outfit was more Brian’s style. It was a plain white shirt that was a tad too big. A thin denim shirt over the top, not done up. Black jeans, that were a little looser than the rest. All with plain white shoes.

“Plain and simple,” Ryan nodded. “I say, wear the one with Tyler’s jacket tonight, then wear this one on your date with David. As for the other one, burn all those clothes,” The other two agreed.

“Hey! I like that scarf,” Brian pouted. 

Ryan and Jon have Brian a few more tips on how the date should go. They spoke a little bit about Tyler, about his dating history, and the fact in the time they’ve known him they have never seen him date anyone. Then just a few more general tips, and some omega tips.

Soon, the three left the room, and Brian had to start getting ready. He started this by jumping in the shower. He used his best shampoo, his best conditioner, and his best body wash. He washed everywhere, even though he didn’t really need to. It made him feel good though. 

After the shower, he quickly dried himself off. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, this and that. He then changed into the outfit, and he definitely liked it. Jon was to thank. He did his hair as best as he could, although it still looked a tad messy, then he put on his best cologne. 

Walking back out to his bedroom, he grabbed his phone. There was a text from Tyler. Just saying he was about to come collect him soon. Brian bit his lip, feeling the jitters start to hit. He was so excited.

~~~~~

Brian was internally screaming. He didn’t know out of fear or excitement, he just knew he was screaming.

Tyler came and collected him from his room. He wore an incredibly strong cologne that had Brian swooning. His jeans were loose, but tight around the thighs. His shirt was grey, and also quite loose. He wore a flannel over the top. It looked like his usual casual clothes, but slightly nicer. Brian thought he looked great.

As soon as Brian opened the door, Tyler recognized the jacket. Brian stuttered, saying he didn’t know and Jon gave it to him. Tyler just laughed, said it was good on him, and left it at that. He led Brian down to the garage and to the fancy sports car, that made Brian very excited. 

They drove to the bar silently. It was awkward at first, as most first dates were. It wasn’t too bad, though Tyler had a suspicion the omega was scared of him. Arriving at the bar, Anthony and Marcel just happened to be working. They took them to a table towards the back, somewhat secluded from other customers. It was warm and cozy.

The two males sat at the table across from each other, Brain looking around, and Tyler staring at the boy. He cleared his throat roughly, catching the omegas attention. He then went to order drinks and food.

So this led to Brian’s current predicament. The drinks were here, Tyler had just gotten the two beers. The food as well, Tyler with a Steak, Brain with a burger. They were halfway through their meals. With the way they were sitting, if Brian moved his foot slightly to the side, it would brush against Tyler’s calve. That wasn’t his problem though, the issue was, Tyler being so flirty.

“Brian, you know despite living with you, I still barely know you,” Tyler states as he takes a sip of his beer, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

“Isn’t that supposed to be worded as, ‘so tell me about yourself’?” Brain quirks an eyebrow back. Tyler laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “Gosh, Tyler. I wouldn’t know where to start. I was born in Ireland, on March 23rd. It was a nice place. My parents decided to bring us over to America when I was, I think twelve or thirteen. Then, we somehow ended up joining a pack. My brains fuzzy on that. Then I lost my family and- my favourite colour is red, and I really like the Terminator movies. My secret pleasure is chocolate coffee, and my favourite food is Indian food.”

Tyler blinked. His eyes scanned over Brian’s face as the omega looks down at his meal, picking at his chips. Tyler frowned. He could ask about Ireland, his family and pack another time. “Red huh? Is that why you like my jacket so much?” Brian just blushed. “I can’t say I remember much of the Terminator movies, we’ll need to have a movie night.”

This gets Brian excited, and he sits up with a grin. “Yeah!” He blushes again. “That’ll be good. But, uh, you. Tell me about you.”

Tyler rubbed his chin. “Born in Indiana on September fourteenth. Life was pretty plain and boring. Anger issues have always been there, they stem from my father, but he’s a good dude. Uh, I got decent grades in school, then left early to become a mechanic,” Tyler smirks. “My favourite colour is blue, though I have a thing for zebra prints and stripes. My favourite movie, hm, I don’t even know. I like Game Of Thrones though. Secret pleasure? Lying in grass naked after a shift. Favourite food? Steak, for sure.”

“That’s some secret pleasure you’ve got there,” Brian teased, though the image floated through his mind. “Never seen Game Of Thrones.”

“You are so fucking watching it with me,” Tyler exclaimed. “You are not getting out of this one Bri.”

“I didn’t even say I wanted to,” Brian laughed.  “That’s fine by me, Ty.”

A hum came from Tyler. “Sorry, didn’t hear that very last word. Say again?”

“Ty?”

Tyler chuckled. “That’s the shit.”

“Stop being weird, it’s just a nickname.”

“Yeah, but it’s coming from your cute mouth, with your cute accent.”

“You know, David has the same accent as me.”

Tyler quickly groaned. He pushed his finished plate away, before seeing Brian was also finished. He stacked his plate on top of Brian’s. “Can we not talk about that pussy?”

“Sorry, sorry.”

The two continued to talk for what felt like hours. They got comfortable, made jokes, flirted. They both loved every second of it. Anthony and Marcel were watching from the sidelines, grinning at the two.

“I told you, this date would go well,” Marcel stated, whacking Anthony on the arm.

“I never said it wouldn’t!” Anthony nearly dropped a glass. “But I’m still team David.”

“I don’t know why you and Brock are team David,” Marcel shook his head. “Who is also team David?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Me, Brock, Evan, Ryan, Jarren,” He mentally counted in his head, seeing as his hands were busy. “Then you, Scotty, Jonathan, Luke and John are team Tyler.”

“I can’t believe Evan is against his second,” Marcel laughed. “I also can’t believe Jon is against his mate, same with Ryan.”

Anthony just shrugged. “All I know is, we got bets, someones getting money,” He nudges his friend. “It’s gonna be me, I’m gonna get money.”

“Oh, get fucked.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990114

[holdthosebees]

La Belle Dame

Rating: T Pairing: John/Martin, pre-slashish. Background Melanie/Georgie. Summary: No powers, drag queen AU. In which John’s ex-girlfriend drags him to a charity show, and he has an awkward encounter with one of the queens.

A/N: A procrastination oneshot that I wrote while not working on any of my many, many WIPs. Shoutout to @jinxedlucky, who helped me workshop this idea and then told me not to work on it until I finish something else, and who was right. Also--Martin’s drag name, and the title, both come from the Keats poem La Belle Dame Sans Merci. 

The drag queen on stage had glitter in her beard and the most impressive biceps John had ever seen. The red sequins on her skintight dress shimmered as she walked up and down the edge of the crowd, mic cord trailing behind her, as she reached out to regulars, all winks. Georgie tapped John’s shoulder; he had to lean in to hear her, her hair brushing against his ear.

“That’s Sasha’s friend,” she said. “Tim. The one I was telling you about.” 

John nodded. He’d been struggling to keep track of all of people in Georgie’s new social circle, her girlfriend’s friends and their friends who were all supposed to be his friends by some sort of mathematical transference. The drag queen on stage tapped the mic, and grinned. Her lips were very red. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, monsters, everyone else,” she said, pitching her voice low. “Welcome... to Eastbenders!” 

There were a few half-hearted cheers. 

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Anyway, for the virgins in the audience, all our queens are local and all our proceeds will go to providing shelter and services to trans youth.” Another pause for cheers, more enthusiastic this time. “If you have any questions, ask comrade Sasha over there in the booth. Wave to the people, Sasha!”

John had met Sasha a few times over drinks. She seemed a very sensible person, unlike Georgie’s new girlfriend Melanie, who hated him on sight. He resolved to go and find her after the event, and maybe donate a bit. That was why he was here, after all; the charity.

“And the rest of you old slags, go say hello anyway. I promise you she’s very friendly.” The queen punctuated her sentence with a slow roll of her hips and a leer. John scowled down at his ginger ale, and ignored Georgie’s knowing look. She wasn’t going to tell him to lighten up, because she knew that he’d just roll his eyes in response, and she didn’t need to, because he knews she was thinking it. 

It was just that this, the lewd jokes for the sake of lewd jokes, the self-conscious decadence, it was very much not John’s scene. He didn’t have anything against it, exactly; he just found it childish, and strange, and there was something profoundly alienating about it besides. If it were up to him he’d be at home, reading, or putting a few more hours in on the project he was supposed to have in by Monday, somehow, although Elias clearly didn’t understand how long database work actually took.

But it was for charity, Georgie had said, and it had been ages since he’d been out and around, and he wasn’t going to meet anyone new if he just sat around moping. To which he had responded that he didn't feel the need to meet anyone new, and she’d looked at him with her eyes so knowingly sad, tinged with an insufferable pity. And so here he was, crammed into an uncomfortable booth in a dim bar, watching a man in a dress with a wig as tall as his head and heels you could punch through metal sheeting with croon into a cheap microphone.

“I am your host for the evening, Kinky Spice--” someone in the back booed. The queen sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine, you caught me. I’m your host, Kim Morningwoodburn--” More booing, and scattered laughter. “Tough crowd! I’ll deal with you later, you naughty audience members you. I am, cross my heart, your host, Diana Explosion, and I’m here to ask you to welcome in our first performer, the bizarre, the incomparable Honey Wilde!” 

The lights dimmed, and turned blue. The crowd applauded as flog began to slip in from the corner of the stage, creeping across the floor. The music started, something slow and electronic. John was intrigued despite himself. 

Honey Wilde slunk slowly out of the shadows. Her shoulders were hunched, and she moved with a slow lurch. Her straight black wig hung in front of her face, like a creature from a Japanese horror movie. The lights flickered out. 

When they turned back on, she was standing at the edge of the stage, arms spread wide. She was tall, even without the heels; with them, she towered. Her hair was back, revealing a beautifully painted face; even John, who didn’t see the point of this sort of thing, had to admire the artistry. She was wearing a black gown of some sort of matte material, and black opera gloves. And on them, marching up her arms and around the curve of her bodice, curled around her throat--spiders. Huge, plastic spiders. And in her right hand, which she stretched out to the audience, slowly walking across her palm--

“Don’t worry,” she said, in a husky stage whisper. She stroked the back of the tarantula with one finger. “She won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.” She snapped her teeth, and then smiled, looking suddenly self-conscious. Diana Explosion wolf-whistled. John shuddered. He looked around, plotting an escape route. When he looked back at the stage, Honey’s eyes were on him. 

“If one of you could please do me a favor,” she said. “Tell the silver fox in the back row that I bite, too.” 

John’s face burned. Georgie jostled him with her shoulder. 

“He’s twenty-five,” she yelled back. The crowd laughed. Honey Wild ducked her head, and when she looked back, her smile was crooked. 

“I suppose being with you has aged him prematurely, has it?” she said. Georgie laughed. John didn’t. The tarantula walked slowly along Honey Wilde’s palm.

“Only a joke,” she said. “Don’t let it... eat at you.” 

Diana Explosion jeered. Honey shrugged. The gesture was strangely sheepish; it didn’t belong to the person in the gown and the dark red lipstick. Then the music shifted abruptly, pitched eerily up, and the performance began.

It seemed to be some sort of performance art, with slow techno interspersed with half-song stanzas of Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale. What that had to do with spiders, John couldn’t say. He stopped paying attention. As the queen lurched and undulated across the stage, John stared down at his drink and thought angry, vague thoughts about pointless, fatuous entertainment and pretentious artists and men who thought that having a cock counted as a political statement. The next number featured a queen in a ridiculous harlequin costume and some kind of calliope remix, and John ignored Georgie’s worried glances and insistent nudges and pulled out his phone. 

When the break came, he slid past her and went out the side for a cigarette. It was a cool night; he stood with his back to the brick wall and looked up a the sliver of orange-grey sky above the buildings. He breathed in, felt nicotine fill his lungs, allowed himself a moment to relax.

The door swung open. The man who emerged was tall and trying not to be. He had unruly brown hair that seemed pressed down on one side, and was wearing a jumper, ripped shorts, and fishnets. There was a grey smudge of hastily removed eyeliner around his eyes.  “Oh,” he said. “Sorry. Hello. Mind if I share the alley for a bit?”

John shrugged. He offered the man his pack of cigarettes--might as well be polite--but was turned down. 

“It’s just--need to get some air, you know? Decompress. I always get a bit jittery after a number. Can barely hold my hands straight, ha.”

“Hm,” John said. 

“I don’t know how Tim does it. Of course, can’t hurt that he’s just like that all the time, I mean. It’s not really work for him, he just puts on a dress and goes out there, does his thing. Stuff really comes natural to him, you know?” 

“I suppose,” John said. 

“Sorry--you’re probably trying to relax, and here I am, talking your ear off.” The man ran his fingers through his hair, making it even more untidy, and looked down. There was a flush creeping up the side of his neck. “I, um. I’ll be out of your hair in a second, I promise. Just, while I’m here, I wanted to apologize.”

John raised an eyebrow. 

“If I crossed some sort of line,” the man went on, as though that explained something. “I mean, it’s what most people are here for, to be honest, someone to flirt with and be mean to them, but you seemed sort of uncomfortable? So. Sorry about that. It’s just, I don’t really do this that often anymore, I’m only here because Tim made me, and for the charity. So I’m out of practice with the back and forth, is all.” 

John squinted at him. The lighting was different; so was his posture, the shape of his face without makeup. But no, he recognized him now. 

“You’re Honey Wilde,” he said. “The one with the tarantula.” 

“Oh! Yes. Sorry. Not right now, I mean, right now I’m Martin. But yeah, that’s me.” Martin gave an awkward little wave. John took a deep drag on his cigarette and let the smoke out slowly. 

“It’s fine,” he said. “Are you sure? You seem sort of...”

“It’s fine,” John said again, more firmly. Martin’s smile was pained. He had dimples, John noticed; they were slightly asymmetrical, the right one deeper than the left. 

“Well that’s--good. I’m glad.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment. Martin kept looking at John, and then away; after a moment, John realized that he was being checked out.  

He considered this. Martin wasn’t bad looking, as far as John could tell. He seemed nice enough. The apology had seemed genuine. And there was a part of John, a vicious, petty corner of his heart, that enjoyed the thought of leaving Georgie in the bar to go home with a virtual stranger. 

“I’m sorry if it’s a step,” Martin said slowly, “but you don’t really seem to be enjoying yourself? Did your girlfriend drag you along, or something?”

“Ex girlfriend,” John said shortly. Martin’s eyes went wide.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I’m--that makes it worse, doesn’t it. I’m sorry.”

Of course, there were the negatives. Sex with someone he knew well was just as likely to be uncomfortable and awkward as it was pleasurable; with a stranger, the risk was doubled. Martin seemed courteous, but he still might take it personally when John asked him not to touch him, or have weird kinks, or just expect John to be more into it than he could possibly be and come to his own conclusions when John inevitably wasn’t. 

John watched Martin run a broad hand through his hair again, and decided that it wasn’t worth it. 

“It’s--it’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “It was a long time ago. She has a girlfriend now, actually, who’s working behind the bar.” 

“That’s--Oh, you mean Melanie? That’s Melanie’s Georgie?” Martin smiled, more genuinely this time. “Melanie won’t shut up about her. They seem sweet.”

“I don’t know if sweet is the word I would use to describe Melanie King,” John said. “But yes. They do seem to suit each other, don’t they.” 

“Yeah.” There was something wistful in the way Martin said it, and a little sad. They looked at each other. John felt an unpleasant roll of anxiety; this was it, this was the moment when Martin would make a move, and John would say no, and they’d both go back inside feeling uncomfortable and awkward. 

But Martin just pushed off from the wall and looked back at the door and said, strangely tentative, “Well, it was good to meet you. I should get back in. I’m not performing any more, thank god, but I don’t want to miss the second act. I’ll, uh, see you around, yeah?” 

John blinked at him. 

“Right,” he said. Martin flashed him a quick smile, and then opened the door. Through it, John could hear Diana Explosion, calling out, “--your seats, my lovely monsters, let’s get this show back on the road.” Then Martin was gone, the door closed behind him, and John was alone.

He took another deep drag on his cigarette. His phone buzzed, a text from Georgie, asking him where he was. He muted his phone and put it back in his pocket. Not yet. Soon, but not yet. 

[moonlit-raven-haven]

Chapter 1: Dreams

A/N: Hey everyone, this is the first chapter to a John Wick fan fiction. I haven’t written anything this long in a few years so sorry for any typos or alternation between present and past tense. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: some angst

Word Count: 2,586

Dreams.

The ability to enter another world. A world of fiction, the world of the past, and if you're lucky enough, the world of the future.

Blair is in a dream, a dream of red. She is falling, falling, until she lands with a big splash into warm, thick liquid—the blood shed of her past, and her future. She is drowning, but no one moves to save her as blood pours from the sky, so she sinks deeper into a red eternity.

A sudden knock on Blair’s door wakes her from her slumber and startles her, despite it being four in the afternoon. Her first instinct is to grab her gun, but she is unable to do so due to the lack of air in her lungs. The dream felt too real; after gaping for air for what felt like hours but was only a few minutes she composes herself. Blair is in the safety of the Continental, no gun is needed, but she brings it with her anyways as she rolls out of bed, her feet hitting the cold floor. The varnished wood feels smooth underneath her feet as she glides across the floor, not making a sound and going up the single step leading to a platform and the door. She opens the door, gripping her gun in her hand, but when she sees it's none other than Charon, her grip on the cold piece of metal loosens.

"Good morning Miss Havoc, sorry to wake you, but Winston would like to meet with you."

"It's okay Charon, thank you for informing me." She speaks with a calmness to her voice, smiling at him and nodding curtly before going to close the door, which is stopped by Charon.

"Opening the door with a gun by your side is not necessary here in the Continental Miss Havoc."

"I'm aware, but I'm afraid there's people who are willing to break the rules of the Continental." Her voice is quiet, making Charon nod curtly in understanding before walking down the hall, disappearing out of her sight.

Blair closes the door, sighing softly as she walks to the small hotel closet, running her fingers over the different materials and clothes. Finally she settles for one of her many black dresses; short sleeved, tight around the waist, turtle neck, and just below her knees. She leaves her hair curly hair as is, only pinning the sides back and applying some mascara and red lipstick. She grabs a pair of black pumps and her small leather purse with a gold chain—giving herself once last glance in the mirror, she walks out of her room, locking the door behind her.

Blair walks down the hallway, the sound of her black pumps clicking on the inexplicably expensive tile made of marble. She reaches the elevator and presses the button, waiting for it to descend from wherever it's currently at.

"Winston asked to meet with me." A frown falls on her face as the thought runs through her mind. A meeting with the owner of the Continental could either mean good news or bad news. It's always difficult to tell which one it would be. While he isn't too intimidating due to his age and appearance, he holds the power to the hotel. He could easily revoke her privileges right there and then, but he is kind, and would be unwilling to do so without breakage of a rule. Yet, she can't help but feel fearful of the older man.

Ding.

The elevator finally descends from its previous location and arrives at her floor. The silver doors open in front of her, revealing a dimly lit elevator with red wood walls and the same marble floor that lies throughout most of the hotel. She steps inside and turns around, her face facing the hallways as she presses the button below the number one. A few seconds pass and the elevators close shut, now lowering her to the lobby of the Continental.

Ding.

The elevator comes to a halt and the doors open to reveal the palatial lobby of the Continental. She steps out of the elevator and takes it all in, despite being her almost all her life, it never ceases to amaze her. The marble floor is adorned by brown carpets leading to different entrances and the reception counter where Charon stands in the lobby. The carpets are the same but nonetheless mesmerizing with their different shades of brown and design that reminded her of seashells. Each carpet is trimmed with a darker brown which is filled in with three sets of vertical lines that form an incomplete triangle. There's blue seats on either side of the lobby, each one with a white trim, in front of the chairs is a clear glass table, outlined with black metal. Her eyes wander to the tall cement pillars that connect to gorgeous cement arches, finally leading to the even taller ceiling that's adorned with black, candle lit chandeliers. She looks over to the reception counter made of marble where Charon stands, typing away at the computer. Behind Charon two grand black gates stand behind it all, blue curtains adorning them from behind where a brown wall can be seen, a large piece of two Earths hanging above the dark brown wood.

Blair looks away and begins to walk, her black pumps clicking against the marble floor. She glances at the other people in the lobby, all wearing custom clothes and sipping coffee, others typing away on their phones, some reading magazines, and some talking in quiet whispers. As she walks towards the door that leads to the lounging area, she notices people look her way and whisper to each other. But she pays no mind to it, in her line of work, people will talk.

Blair reaches the door and twists the gold door knob, opening the brown door and closing it gently behind her. She enters the dimly lit room adorned by dark colors, taking in her surroundings. The staircase is black, and simple, but elegant all at once. There's a great big window to her right side, covered by deep red curtains and black chandeliers, different from those in the lobby, hanging down from the ceiling. She takes a few steps forward and looks down where others are sitting at the bar, some drinking by themselves after an exhausting job, others lounging around, enjoying their drinks. Her eyes move up to the black tables, chairs, and leather couches where some people where eating a meal, others enjoyed a drink, and some simply enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of the lounge after a long day.

Blair’s eyes move to the corner of the lounge to Winston's usual spot, but instead of seeing a table covered in papers and a working Winston, she is met with him talking to another man. Her brows furrow slightly before returning to their normal position as she begins to walk down the black stair case, her heels clicking with every step. She reaches the bottom of the steps and begins to walk towards Winston, once again hearing the others look her way and whisper to each other, but she shrugs it off, deeming it as nothing. - reaches Winston's table and he smiles at her endearingly, stranding up and holding his hand out to her.

"Miss Havoc." He says smoothly as she reaches out and shakes his hand firmly before pulling it away. She glances at the man sitting across from Winston before looking at him again with questioning eyes. Winston clears his throat.

"I'm sorry Charon had to wake you, but I'm afraid this couldn't wait much longer." He says as he looks at the man still sitting down at the table, gesturing for him to stand up. The mysterious man stands up and turns to face you, and suddenly, she couldn’t help but feel stupid for not recognizing him sooner. John Wick. Her breath hitches in her throat, she hadn’t seen him in five years, and now, here he was again. She felt her blood boil, but her heart eyes soften at his form. He looked the same as he did five years ago. His black suit tailored to perfection and his hair perfectly slicked back. There were a few cuts on his face and he looked tired, worn down, as if he had seen more in recent days than he ever had in his life as an assassin.

“Johnathan.” Her voice was cold, not letting any trace of emotion settle within it. She could see him wince at her coldness, but she couldn’t help it. He left and didn’t even bid her a goodbye. She pulled out a chair next to his and across from Winston, wanting to get whatever it was over with so she could leave and not see John. The two men sit at their previous places, Winston looking inbetween both of them. To Winston the situation was quite amusing, but he knew he had to keep it professional unless he wanted to cause an argument, or even murder between the two.

“Why are we here?” John was the first to speak up, his eyes boring into Winston. Blair can’t help but shiver at his voice, she hadn’t heard it in five years, and just like back then, it was music to her ears. A song she could never get tired of hearing despite how angry and hurt she felt by him.

“I have a contract for the both of you.” Winston states as a waiter comes by, pouring wine into their glasses as Winston picks his up and swirls it around. John’s face goes pale. He came back to get vengeance for his dog and his car, but in the process he got sucked back into the underground life of being an assassin, and with Winston’s words, he knew it was official. Blair glanced over at John, seeing his face pale and she couldn’t help but worry, but she simply picked up her glass of wine and took a long sip. The cool bitterness hit her tongue, being pleasant to her taste buds as she put the glass down.

“Why both of us? I’m sure Jonathan is more than capable of doing it himself.” Blair said as she crossed her arms. She had no reason to be here. John Wick was the best assassin in the world, Blair Havoc coming in as second, but, he could handle the hardest contracts in his own.

“I’m afraid this specific contract is going to require two assassins. Specifically, the two best assassins in the world. Each of you will get $100,000.” Winston stated as he answered he leaned forward to the pair.

“Fine. I’m in.” John simply grunted in response. As he took a long sip of the wine. He needed something stronger. He wasn’t doing it for the money nor to talk to Blair, he needed the thrill of spilling blood; at least, that’s what he told himself.

Blair was taken aback by his response. She would choose to take this contract and work with John, plus get paid a very good amount, or she could opt out and take smaller contracts. She didn’t need the money, and she didn’t want to have contact with John, but for some reason, the words left her mouth.

“I’m also in.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. What was she getting herself into? 

“Very well, tomorrow we will meet here at the same time and discuss the details of the contract. In the meantime, I think you two have some things to discuss in private. You are dismissed.” Winston waves his hand and dismisses the pair. 

Blair gets up quickly, wanting to not see John unless necessary, but John is quicker than her, getting up abruptly from his seat and following her closely before grabbing her arm with a gentleness that no one thought John Wick could have. She finally stops walking and turns to face John, looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that burned him. They were getting stares from the other assassins, but then again, who wouldn’t stare after hearing the story of their past. 

“I think we should talk, in private.” John muttered into her ear as he finally looked away from her gaze to all of the staring people. The girl simply nodded her head in agreement and removed her arm from his grasp as she swiftly moved up the stairs ad back into the lobby where she was greeted by Charon.

“Miss Havoc, Winston said you’re having a rough afternoon. I’ve sent up one of our finest bottles of bourbon.” His voice was soothing an reassuring, one of the many things she’s come to love about the Continental. 

“Thank you, Charon.” Blair answers with an appreciative smile as John appears.

“Good evening Mr. Wick.” Charon now turns his attention to John, his face turning into an amused expression as her demeanor changes to dark. 

“Good evening Charon.” John says with a nod as he quickly follows her into the elevator which she was now in. The ride up the many stories was silent until they reach her floor. She quickly exits the elevator and goes down the long hallway to her room, unlocking the door and stepping inside, leaving it open for John. He walks in, and closes the door behind him, looking a the varnished wooden floor beneath him before looking up and taking in the room around him. 

It is gorgeous just like every room at the Continental, but unlike the other rooms, this room is bigger and feels like home. As he walks across the platform and down the single step leading down to the actual room, he takes in everything in his sight. There are pictures hanging on the frame of the mirror, others around the dresser and nightstand. The closet is open, but instead of a small closet, its a walk in closet with its own lights and shelves. There are arrays of clothing and shoes of all types. A small vanity arranged with lights is littered with makeup and jewelry of different colors and styles. The bathroom door, slightly ajar, but leaving everything in his sight, is arranged with different conditioners, shampoos, lotions, soaps, and hair products. There is even a small kitchen with a small silver stove, sink, refrigerator, and a beautiful counter top made of probably one of thew finest marbles in the world. A queen bed adorned with red comforters lies in the room, a small couch at its foot.

His heart breaks at the sight. the girl who once said she wanted an out of this life has settled down in it.

“You wanted to talk?” Blair finally speaks and walks over two John, two glasses of bourbon in hand as she sits on the small couch, motioning for John to sit next to her. Despite the hurt and anger she felt towards the man at the moment, they new there were things they had to get out of the way in order to work together in  a life or death situation. 

“Do-” John starts but cuts himself off, seeming to hesitate about his next words. The John Wick is hesitating. She can’t help but snicker at his action as he spins the glass of bourbon around in the crystal glass before chugging it down. 

“Do you still love me?”

If this was a dream, she wouldn’t have answered the question, but this wasn’t a dream.

•

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added!)

@red-pill-blue-pill @meetmeinthematinee @childrenofthegun @romanovia @shinyprunebagelathlete

[gotboredwrote]

The Walking Stick // BHM

Pairing: Brian May x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Fluff, childhood trauma in relation to bugs (entomophobia) Summary: Brian, being the animal-lover he is, starts to develop feelings for a new roadie who happens to have a severe phobia of one of the creatures he loves. He wants to help her when nothing else could. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: A small little thing that came to me out of nowhere, so this is just kind of… eh. Decided not to even edit this either. Sorry lol.

Masterlist

~

Some people called it irrational. Some people laughed at you when you freaked out. Very few people were okay with a panic attack if it happened. But it was not like you could control it. The fear was rooted deep within an experience from your childhood, so there was not much you could do about it.

In truth, for many years, any time something would happen, you tried to figure out what it was that could calm you down and you were never successful. Your parents always tried to help you, but any time they interfered, somehow it got worse. You were always completely on your own. Despite their attempts, your parents did offer one piece of advice you could see the advantage of taking, which was make sure to get a job where you would not be exposed to said fear. So, what did you do?

Take a job where all you would do is travel and be introduced to new species of bugs each and every day.

~

You had been interning at Chelsea College and you saw a job opportunity posted on one of the bulletin boards. Something related to being a roadie for a band called Queen. It paid well, and you desperately needed the money. Except you noticed that all the pull tabs had already been pulled, so you were not sure how you would go about applying. You noticed a phone number on the flyer, so you just decided to write it down and call it.

“Chelsea College music hall.”

“Oh, um hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I was calling in reference to a… a flyer I saw on—”

“Queen?”

“Y-yes. Could you put me in contact with them?”

“They’re here now, walk over and I’ll send you back.”

“Oh, okay, um… thank y—” And you heard the phone hit the receiver.

You walked over to the building, reintroducing yourself to the, frankly, rude receptionist for the building. He directed you to the room you needed to go to, and once you were in front of the door, you quietly knocked and waited. What exactly were you going to say? You knew this position had already been filled, if the pull tabs being missed was anything to go by. After about 30 seconds, you heard some heavy footsteps toward the door, probably by someone in boots, and then it swung open, revealing a shorter blonde, cigarette dripping from his lips.

“Well, hello. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was um, looking to see if the position you guys were offering was still available. The assistant one?”

“Well, I won’t speak for the band, but you could be my personal assistant—”

“Roger, let the poor girl in here!” You heard a more posh and deep voice from behind the blonde who filled the doorway. The blonde huffed out some smoke and rolled his eyes, but complied with the voice’s request.

When you could finally look into the room, you noticed a handful of women scattered around the room, a few older men, and then the three other men you needed to pay attention to. You were hoping to put the voice to a face, but someone else, clearly a different voice spoke up first. Glitzy.

“What do we owe the pleasure, darling?”

“Well, I was uh, interested in the position you have posted on that one bulletin board. But, I saw that all the little tabs are gone, so…”

“Nonsense dear! Many of those tabs were pulled by the blue-eyed floozies you see littered around this room.” You looked at him nervously, amazed at his boldness saying that with the girls within earshot. “Don’t worry about them, trust me. They’re more consumed with the other boys physically than anything we say them.”

You tried to smile at him lightly, still a little bit in shock, and looked around the room, landing on one of the tall men in the room, one with a mound of poofy, dark brown curls atop his head who happened to be staring at you with wide eyes and parted lips. As soon as you locked onto his eyes, you smiled, and he returned it, but quickly looked at his current situation and a frown replaced it. Three of those blue-eyed floozies the one man mentioned were laying around him, and he clearly did not want you to think that was the kind of guy he was, so he sat up, much to the girls’ dismay. He placed a hand into his curled and scratched lightly, and you practically could not tear your eyes away from him. It felt straight out of a meet-cute, but you were getting way ahead of yourself. The man from before tore. You from your thoughts.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’ve never introduced myself or the lads in the band. I’m Freddie, the blonde who answered the door was Roger, John is over there with his beau Veronica, and the tall man you’ve been ogling is Brian.”

You were slightly taken aback by his comment, ever forward, and Brian clearly heard him too because his face went red as well.

“What might we call you, dear?”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, the job is yours if you’d like it.”

“What? I-I didn’t even tell you about me or anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. My personal goal is to break you out of this shell you have, and giving you this job is the best way to do it.”

Freddie gave you a wide smile before returning to nursing the drink he had in his hand, and you watched each of the boys in their element – Roger with the girls, John reading a book with Veronica wrapped under his arm, and Brian pushing the girls away because there was only one he was interested in.

~

Freddie had told you that they were leaving in four days, so you had that long to prepare for tour life. Whatever the hell that meant. You were a shy and reserved book worm, the idea of hanging with rock stars was not something you really expected to happen in your life, but here you were. Somehow, by pure luck, even though Freddie will tell you it was your personality, you got this gig.

You had an apartment right near the campus, hence why you were at the school in the first place for an event. You were folding a load of laundry you specifically did for the tour when you heard the buzzer for your door, signaling someone wanted to see you. Not expecting anyone, you were hesitant at first to let the person know you were home. You heard the buzz again, and decided it could not hurt, since you did not have to let them in.

“Can I help you?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, whew, good, I found the right flat. Uh, it’s Brian. Could I come up?”

The voice. You finally heard it again. The one who stopped Roger from his pursuit of you. A deep voice, intelligent. You realized in that moment you had not actually spoken to John or Brian the other day when Freddie gave you the job. You walked away before ever officially meeting them.

“Y/N? You there? I still can’t open the door.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah one second.”

You buzzed Brian through the door and unlocked your door so you could walk back into your bedroom to continue folding your clothes. You waited about 4 minutes and then you heard the knock on the door. You called out to him telling him he could just come in, and you heard the door open. If a door could sound reluctant, yours did in that moment. You called out from your bedroom, telling him where you were, and he slowly made his way through your apartment. Taking in your style as he went through. Very much similar to his, and he made it a point to commit the poster you had of the planets and their descriptions to memory. Made him happy to see that you shared an interest of his.

He made his way back to your bedroom and saw you hovered over the side of your bed, clothes all neatly stacked in piles that clearly had some type of order.

“Hi, Brian!” Your voice came out a little bit less strong than you would have liked, almost like his presence knocked the wind out of you. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I wanted to offer my assistance.”

“With what?”

“That.” He gestured to all the clothes littering your double bed.

“My laundry?”                                                        

Brian suppressed a laugh but a toothy smile escaped anyway. “No, silly, your packing. I understand you’ve never done anything like this before? It isn’t like vacation, you can’t just pack a handful of clothes.”

“I know that, but I’m honestly not sure where to draw the line.”

“Did you want the assistance I was offering, love?”

“That would… actually be marvelous.”

Brian was instantly at your side, helping you fold some of the clothes from your basket. He was careful not to select any of your undergarments, but he accidentally grabbed a pair of your underwear at one point, and not by the elastic or the bum, and he immediately went beet red and apologized profusely. You just laughed and nudged him on the shoulder. You did not mind, it was honestly sweet to see him get so worked up and not really aroused by it like most men would. You did not even want to imagine how Roger would have handled that.

“Brian?”

“Yes?”

“How exactly did you find my flat?”

Instantly the color drained from his face because he was afraid you were going to hate him for seeking it out.

“Bri, I’m not angry with you. Quite the contrary. I am not the type to ask for help, so you showing up was actually a blessing. You’re like, an angel to me.”

“Well, essentially…” Brian started talking about the process of finding your apartment, which was much more complicated than he initially planned for it to be. Hence why he did not come the day before. By the time he found out the apartment and where it was, it was late and he did not want to disturb you. He continued talking but noticed that your side of the laundry pile had not gotten smaller while he was talking.

“Y/N? You okay?”

When he looked over at you, your face was as white as a sheet and your eyes were laser focused onto something. Your body was stiffer than a piece of wood. Clearly, you were in a state of shock. Brian followed your gaze and saw what you were looking at – a moth about the size of a polaroid picture was on the wall opposite to where the two of you were standing. Brian looked back at you, calmly speaking to you.

“Want me to take it outside, love?”

All you did was nod stiffly, not moving any other muscles. Brian nodded and carefully walked over to the wall, capturing the moth in his larger hands, careful not to crush it. He walked over to the small balcony you had off of your bedroom and released it off the edge.  When he walked back in, he expected you to be back to normal, but he was met with you almost having a panic attack. At first, he was not sure what to do, but he decided on pulling you into a tight embrace, rubbing circles into your back in an effort to calm your breathing.

It worked.

Nothing had ever worked before. Not a single thing. And then here you were, standing in your apartment in the arms of a man you hardly knew, and he was able to calm you down. When you felt your breath return to normal, you pulled back to look at him. And you just stared at him, wide eyed.

“Alright, love?”

“Y-yeah. I, um…”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“You deserve to know. After that.”

Brian helped you sit down onto your bed, one arm moving to rest on your knee, the other still rubbing your back. And you began to explain what happened just now.

[Flashback Start]

“M-m-mommy…”

It was disgusting. The sight of it all being played out in your head.

“Mommy?”

It had to be thousands of them.

“MOMMY!”

Your childhood home had a small pond and frogs liked to live in it. You always liked to watch them, and that day was no different. You went outside, small snack in hand, and watched as one of the frogs lay dead on the stones on the edge of the pool. Its corpse being devoured by thousands of different kinds of bugs. Flies, spiders, roaches, grasshoppers, moths. Crawling and buzzing. It was deafening, louder than nighttime cicadas. It made you want to vomit. The dark side of the circle of life.

Bugs used to not faze you one bit. Now, with the knowledge that they could be as vicious of predators as a lion or a tiger made you absolutely petrified of them, afraid if you stop moving in front of them, they are going to think you were dead, just like the frog. And eat you.

[Flashback End]

“So… bugs and you don’t get along, huh?”

You shook your head.

“And nothing anyone has ever done has been able to help your through the panic attacks?”

Another shake.

“Except for me.”

Now a nod.

“Well.” Brian thought carefully about his next choice of words. “Guess it’s a good thing you’ve got me on this little adventure, right?”

Finally, you looked up at him, and you smiled. He had grown fond of that smile, and never wanted to see it go away. You could say the same about his, little fangs and all. He was still rubbing circles on your back. You felt so relaxed in his presence.

With a small peck on the cheek, mean to be completely harmless,  he spoke again. “Let’s continue packing, love.”

~

The tour went pretty smoothly. It was a relatively local tour, so the travel was not all that bad. You were on a bus separate from the boys, but Brian always made it a point to travel with you, and only leave when it was time to sleep. He only left when you were at the last rest stop before bedtime, and then he’d switch busses. He always was on watch for bugs so you did not have a panic attack in public. There were a few times a spider or something would end up on the tour bus, prompting you to enter a state of panic. But, Brian was always there to remove it. He never killed the bugs – always trapped them and let them go. He was nice to every living thing he met, no mattered the circumstances. It was enchanting. Everything about him.

One day, on tour, the boys had some time off and Freddie had suggested they walk the little hiking trail that happened to be near the venue. When Freddie was the one who suggested it, you all kind of scoffed at him, but he seemed determined. The new guy he was talking with seemed to be into it, so you blamed it on that. Before everyone had started gathering what they needed, Brian made his way onto your bus and saw that you had packed a backpack, ready to go, and he got anxious.

“You’re actually coming with us?”

“Of course! I was hoping I could walk with you. If… that’s alright, obviously.”

“I would adore spending all my free time with you,” Brian winced at himself internally at the slight confession. He was hoping to tell you how he had started feeling about you in a more intimate way, maybe under the stars, but the cat might have been out of the bag at this point. Why could this cat have not been like Delilah? That cat loved to play in plastic bags. “But, you do understand that there’s going to be a lot of bugs out here, and I can’t release them into the air if they’re already there.” “I know, and I appreciate your concern, but I think if you just let me stick by your side, I’ll be okay.”

“But I don’t want you getting embarrassed—”

“Bri.”

He sighed at your determination, another thing he had come to really like about you. “If you insist, love. Ready to go, then?” He held out his hand for you to take, a bold move considering what he was trying to keep private. Yet you took it with strength, almost as if you were egging him on to admit what he was feeling. The two of you walked from your bus hand in hand and made your way to the back of the trail. Everyone else had already started making their way.

You and Brian remained close together the whole time, hands still interlocked. Brian was glad you could not hear how hard his heart was beating from the touch, and he was also glad you could not hear the small shattering he felt when you drew your hand away. But, he noticed it was not because of him, it was because you wanted to take some pictures with the camera you packed. Yet another thing for Brian to like about you – you both liked photography. He was beginning to wonder where you had been his whole life.

Then he stopped hearing the shutter of your camera. He had walked to the other side of the relatively wide trail, opposite you, to look at a really beautiful bird. But the second he stopped hearing your camera he was turned around and walking in your direction. You had been kneeled down to take a picture of the foliage, but now the camera was dangling between your legs and you looked stiff again.

Instantly his arms were around your neck and shoulders, his head buried into your neck. He thought you saw a big bug and were starting to panic and he wanted to nip the panic attack in the bud. He squeezed tightly to make sure you knew he was there and that you were safe.

Now you could heel how hard his heart was beating.

Yours was beating the same amount, but not because of a bug.

“Bri?”

“You’re okay, it’s not going to hurt you love.”

“Bri—”

“I’ll move it far away from here, it’s not going to get you.”

“Brian! I can’t breathe.”

“I’m here, please try to breathe, love.”

“No, you’re squeezing really tight.”

Brian yanked his arms away to look at your face, which had no tears. All your color was there. You even had a smile on your face. You looked up at him, and he had a look of shock on his face. You started to laugh really hard, and he almost started laughing himself – he was just too confused to.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek to attempt to break him from his trance before you spoke again.

“There’s just a walking stick here.” You stopped speaking to gaze at the interesting bug. “For once… I’m okay. I think it’s because this little guy reminds me of you. Physically, he’s long and lanky—” “Hey!” “But moves gracefully and independently. It’s also really intelligent compared to other bugs, it seems. And he’s really friendly. I even held out my hand and his little antenna came up to inspect me. But, he reminds me of you through and through, somehow. I think that’s why he doesn’t scare me.”

You were still looking at the bug while Brian was gawking at you. In a very weird but extremely endearing way, he could feel himself falling deeper into his feelings for you after that comment. You looked so at ease, and he knew he had a chance. He reached up to lightly grab your chin so he could pull your forehead to lean against his. The two of you just stared into each other’s eyes, almost in a trance.

“Y/N… you’re such an enigma, but I’m determined to figure you out.”

“I’d be glad to let you try, Bri.”

Brian started to lean closer to you, like he was going to kiss you, when Roger’s voice ruined the moment.

“Would you two c’mon? Freddie is currently trying to climb out of a creek and it’s pretty funny.”

You and Brian just looked at him, chuckling at his excitement. Then you looked back at each other. Brian started to stand up to keep going on the trail, but you grabbed his face to keep him at your level.

“Thank you, Brian.”

Instantly he pressed his lips to yours for a quick but searing kiss. When he broke away, he saw you had the shocked look he had earlier.

“I think I just cracked the first code of the Y/N enigma, huh?”

Permanent Taglist: @bensrhapsody @chlobo6 @gardnerlangway @xtrashmammalstefx @bohemiandeakyy

Brian May Taglist: @ziggymay

// If you want to be added to either taglist mentioned above, or the one for another character I’ve written for, send me an ask here! //

[nerdyangeldetective]

Deadly Shadows II - [John Wick x Reader]

AN: I’m far too inspired for this even if I don’t know where it is going... Also, little reminder: English isn’t my native language. I’m a french trying her best to write to please you guys! Enjoy! ♥

Words: ~1.8k

TW: Fluff - Slow burn - A tiny bit of cursing - mention of blood at some point.

AN bis: The events take place after John Wick Chapter 2.

Song for this chapter:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2LaiBsm4DVI

Summary:

In order to avenge your sister being greedy because of the contract put on Wick’s head, Shade, an assassin known to be quiet and leave no mess behind her have for goal to kill John Wick, but nothing goes like she wanted to.

Tag List: @lustforfern 

New York City - Continental Hotel, on the stairs.

"Well... We're in the same shit now, Shade."

His deep and sarcastic voice sent shivers all over her body. Narrowing her eyes and looking at the tall man that was beaten up. Shade was about to speak, but the pain from the wound on her stomach only made her cough some blood.

"Goddamnit, she whispered, Kill me, Charon, do it," she said as Shade sat on the stairs, knowing she had only a few minutes left. "I'm afraid I can't do it, Ms. Perkins," he stated before walking back to the door of the Continental. "You still have a few minutes left."

With this mysterious sentence, Charon disappeared inside the hotel, leaving John and Shade on the stairs, both bleeding out and beaten up.

"Let's go, said Wick as he broke the silence, We need to move."

Confused, Shade looked up to the man that got up and got even more confused when she saw he had given her his hand to help her get up. Taking it, she got on her feet, and they both looked around.

"We should- " "Hide. I know where to go."

Shade started to walk away. She was losing a lot of blood, and her skin was also getting pale.

"I got an apartment under my real name. We probably have enough time to hide and get patched up before they found my real name."

John nodded and followed her through the dark alleys of New York. Everything was weirdly quiet, too quiet. Something was off, and they both knew it. Grabbing her last knife, she knit her eyebrows and carefully looked around.

Sounds of motors were heard, and the light of motorcycles blinded them for a few seconds. John immediately knew it was two assassins, one for her and one for him, and quickly grabbed her by the waist to hide on a corner as they started to shot.

"Be more careful! he half-yelled at her, do you have any guns left!?" "No! I don't. I only had three!"

John looked around and then saw the knife on her hands. He tried to take it, but she wasn't going to let it to him.

"Shade. If you want to survive, if we want to survive this, you need to give it to me."

His serious tone made Shade change her mind. He wanted to team up and was determined to help her. Why? It was so strange, but now that she thinks about it, he didn't hit her with all of his strength, well, apart from stabbing her she had nothing, no real injuries, just a few bruises.

By the time Shade was thinking about it, John had already taken down the two assassins; he barely had nothing.

"Beginners."

Shade gave him a barely-there smile as they hurried to get inside the building and took the elevator to the 14th floor. Only their breathing could be heard on this silent elevator, Shade's vision was getting more and more blurry, and she let herself slide on the wall to be sit.

"Do you have anything to patch you up?" "Of course I do. My sister and I always ended up here to patch ourselves up until she started to work solo."

John nodded once. He was still mysterious, and she didn't know why he spared her nor why he decided to team with her. John Wick was known to do everything himself, so why?

His strong hands grabbed her right arm to put it around his shoulder while his other hand went on her waist. Shade didn't even protest, no, she was getting too tired of trying to play the hard one when she wasn't.

"Which one is it?" he stated as he pointed out the name on few doors at this floor. "[Y/N] [Y/L/N]."

Having the keys in her hand, she opened the door and closed it quickly with John's help. He left her on her bedroom, laying her down on the bed and pushing up her top once he had taken the medical-kit on her bathroom along with alcohol and sterile bandages.  

He was about to pour alcohol on the wound, but Shade stopped him.

"No! Stop!"

The girl moved, putting her hands on the injury, fresh blood staining them.

"I'll be quick. Here, take this."

Reaching for her pillow, John gave it to her.

"You can't scream. You know what to do."

Shade nodded and closed her eyes, a part of the pillow inside her mouth. John quickly poured alcohol into cleaning the wound and took the stapler to close it, finishing with a clean bandage around her stomach. Shade was struggling but didn't move, her muffled cries were heard, but overall, she did well. John removed the pillow from her mouth and sighed.

"It's over. You're fine."

John's voice was surprisingly soft. He sat next to her and was about to do the same to his wounds.

"I'll do it."

Her voice and hands shaking, she sat up on the bed to have a good look on his injury and did the same as he did to her earlier. He didn't even flinch. Was this guy a human at least?

Both were exhausted and coming back from an intense pain as they lay down on the bed.

"Why?" "Why what?" answered John. "Why didn't you kill me? We both know you can kill me and ask to be forgiven."

John stayed quiet for a few seconds before sighing and running a hand through his face.

"I know what it feels to lose someone. I know what it feels like to be angry at everyone, and I know what it's like to want revenge. In your sister's case... You know she brought this to herself."

He was right. Shade knows deep down that she did it to herself for money. She got greedy, and Shade wanted to do the impossible out of anger.

"We'll team up. It'll be useful if we can count on each other, especially that now you're an ex-communicado."

John took his phone on the pocket inside his suit and showed her the text.

"Shade, [Y/N] Perkins. Ex-communicado. $6 million dollars."

Shade smiled and started to laugh, a weak one, but it was there.

"Is Perkins even your real last name?" "No. Perkins and I weren't biological sisters. My parents died when I was 2 in a car crash. Lucky me, I survived, and her parents adopted me, mostly for money. We ran away from home at 13 and lived on our own for most of our lives." "I guess that is why the name on the door is [Y/N] [Y/L/N]." "Yeah. For the government, I'm a student who earns a lot of money."

Looking down, the real Shade, [Y/N] was showing by the way she was speaking. She wasn't Shade with him, not anymore.

"Shade is just a whole character. Someone I pretend to be, but this lifestyle is scaring me to no end, but we had no choice. We had no fucking choice."

John listened to her. He was so similar to him on a few points. They both knew precisely was not to do and still, here they are, being ex-communicado with millions on their heads.

"We'll get through this." he whispered as he closed his eyes.

Shade looked at him and nodded.

"Get some rest, Wick. I'll stay awake in case something goes wrong."

Getting up, she went to her kitchen to get some coffee. They knew they only have a few hours of peace before someone finds them... She also knows it is better if John is one resting properly for a few hours.

Shade was sure of it; she would die soon, no matter how John protects her.

[kaedix]

For a prompt: ANYTHING MALL AU. ANYTHING. I WANTS IT. *makes grabby hands*

You got it!! Have some PREQUEL Mall AU :)

Shirayuki’s leg stuttered anxiously against the dirty floor as she sat waiting for her pizza order to be finished. 

Why isn’t it done? she thought impatiently. I ordered it thirty minutes ago. It’s one pizza, they should be done -

Shirayuki took in a deep breath, shaking off the thoughts. She should know better than to be overly critical of food service workers, especially since she herself had just gotten off a particularly long and trying shift at Fred’s, the local 24-hour diner.

But she was hungry, and honestly, it really was just one pizza during a really dead time -

“Ma'am?” One of the workers called from the counter. 

Shirayuki sprang up so fast that she startled the young man, but he quickly recovered.

“Sorry it took a minute,” he - Alex, his name tag told her - said sincerely. “There’s only two of us here, and Carly’s on a break and - well, I’m new and I wanted to make it good for you." 

Shirayuki felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. See, she scolded herself, you shouldn’t complain about waiting for a stupid pizza. She smiled at him.

"No worries,” Shirayuki said as earnestly as she could, taking the warm pizza box from him. With one hand, she reached down into her pants pocket and pulled out a few of the tips she’d made that night. She awkwardly stuffed the money into the tip jar in front of the register. “Have a good night." 

Alex smiled at her and returned the phrase as Shirayuki pressed her back against the door to open it, stepping out into the warm summer night.

With every step towards her car, all Shirayuki could think about was the pizza, fresh and warm and - she opened the box to peek - covered in the pepperoni and onions she had been craving all day. She was glad she wasn’t driving anyone home tonight, because she would definitely be eating this pizza in the car, potentially all of it - 

And then she tripped.

Shirayuki cursed as she went down. The pizza box, wide open from her topping inspection, flew out of her hand and landed pepperoni to the gravel, the triangles separating haphazardly on the ground just in front of her car door. 

Shirayuki couldn’t stop the tears as they began streaming down her face. She was ugly crying in the Papa John’s parking lot, her ankle aching, and she couldn’t help but think that this just felt like an ending that fit to the day she’d had. 

She pressed her palms into her eyes, willing herself to pull it together. She would just walk back in to the store and explain what happened. They would make her another pizza, and she would pay for it, and everything would be just…fine.

Except it wasn’t, and Shirayuki let herself cry over the stupid pizza that she had really, really wanted.

"Um, Miss? Are you all right?" 

Shirayuki’s head jerked up. She knew the voice, though not well, and was surprised to see a face that was only familiar in the context of being in Zen’s company.

The man had dark hair, golden eyes, with a tall and slender frame but he was toned in a way Shirayuki wasn’t mad at - she struggled to place his name as she wiped at her eyes.

"Shirayuki, right?” He said, reaching out a hand to help her up. His eyes were kind. Not taunting or laughing at her expense.

Shirayuki nodded, hesitating only a moment before grasping his hand. “Yes,” she said shakily as he pulled her effortlessly to her feet. “And you - I’m so sorry, but I can’t remember your name.”

The man smiled, a pull of sadness in his features. But his voice teased. “You could really call me anything, I’ve gone by many names.” He released Shirayuki’s hand. “But my name is Obi.”

“Obi!” Shirayuki said, a little louder and peppier than she’d intended. “I knew that! I’m so sorry, I’ve had such a day, and I’m a little out of it - um, it’s, uh, good to see you.” She swallowed. “Thanks for helping me up." 

Obi regarded her for a second, and Shirayuki wasn’t sure she liked the way he seemed to see right through her fake tone.

"Of course, Miss,” Obi said. “I’m actually here to pick up some pizzas for Zen, but I came a little early.” His voice softened. “So I’ve got some time. Would you like to talk?" 

Shirayuki felt tears prick at her eyes again. Before she could stop herself, she said, "Yes.”

—

Half of an hour later, the gravelly pizza had been disposed of, and Shirayuki found herself sitting next to Obi in his car - a really nice car, much nicer than her old junker that was bound to die on her any day now. Obi assured her it was actually Zen’s car, one of many, but Zen was kind enough to let Obi use it.

Obi patiently listened as Shirayuki unloaded her day on him - starting with forgetting to put the laundry through so she didn’t have a dry uniform for work, to completely forgetting to check on one of her tables, when really the dinner was understaffed and overcrowded during that hour and it was an honest mistake - 

“ - And then this guy - he’s a regular, unfortunately - decided it was okay to flick my butt. Flick. My butt.” Shirayuki threw her arms up in the air, angry tears threatening to spill again. “He made some asinine comment about having a thing for redheads and then he flicked my butt. Who does that? Who thinks that’s okay? I told my manager and thank heavens he reassigned the table but like - ” she paused to take a breath. “I’m so tired of it. It happens all the time." 

Silence overtook the car, and Shirayuki finally looked over at Obi, who had let her go on her tirade for so long without interrupting. Her heart dropped when she saw his face.

His jaw was set hard, his eyes sharp as they made contact with hers. 

"Sorry,” Shirayuki breathed, suddenly afraid she’d said too much. “I’m sorry, Obi, we barely know each other, I shouldn’t have - " 

"You need to quit,” Obi said, his voice as sharp as his eyes. 

“What?” Shirayuki said, taken aback. 

“Quit,” Obi repeated. “Your job. You don’t deserve to be treated so horribly. To be abused like that." 

Shirayuki was quiet for a moment. So he was angry because…he cared? And not because she’d shared too much?

"It’s a nice thought,” Shirayuki said softly. “But if I’m going to pay for school next year, I…I really need this job." 

Obi turned to look out his window. 

"I’ll be right back,” he said abruptly, pulling on his door handle and slipping out of the car before Shirayuki could stop him. 

Shirayuki watched anxiously as Obi walked into the store and said a few words to Alex, who nodded. Then Obi pulled out his phone and walked to the seat where Shirayuki had perched earlier, but he didn’t sit down. Instead he put his phone to his ear and kept a very serious face as he started a conversation with  someone.

Shirayuki looked away. She put her head in her hands as the guilt set in. She had really overshared. She had never even gotten that candid with Zen before, let alone cried in front of him, so why was she so comfortable to do it with Zen’s random employee? She sighed. She really needed to go to bed before she did anything else embarrassing and unfortunate.

A few minutes later, the back car door opened and Obi set a stack of pizzas on the seat. Then he climbed back into the driver’s side and turned back to Shirayuki.

“I really am so sorry, Obi,” Shirayuki said. “Thank you so much for taking the time to listen to me, I know it was kind of a lot, and thank you for - ”

Obi placed a hand over her mouth. A gentle hand, but firm enough that Shirayuki had no choice but to listen. 

“Miss, it’s okay,” Obi said, a small smile on his face. Shirayuki relaxed. Obi moved his hand back to his lap. “Sorry,” he said. “I just hope you know you never need to apologize for sharing with me." 

Shirayuki let out a half-hearted giggle. "Noted,” she said.

“Now,” Obi said, reaching for his seatbelt, “would you mind coming with me? Don’t worry about your car, we’ll send someone to pick it up." 

"Wait - what?” Shirayuki said. “You want me to come with you? Where?" 

"We’re having a little staff meeting at Kiki’s apartment. We have more than enough pizza for you too. I called Zen, he said to make sure you come." 

Shirayuki stared at him. "I don’t want to crash your staff meeting. That’s really sweet, Obi, but - ”

“But,” Obi said, a sneaky sort of grin on his face, “you really should be there if you’re going to be a member of the staff." 

A beat passed between them.

"What?” Shirayuki repeated blankly.

Obi turned the car on and slowly began to back out of the parking lot, pausing for only a second to give her a reassuring smile.

“Zen has a job for you.”