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spnhunter4life · 2 years ago

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So Long Version 2 Chapter 2

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: If version 2 is the first time you're reading this, I hope you enjoy! If you've read version 1 and are reading this also, thanks for the support! Let me know which version you prefer.

Series Masterlist

Ages 12 and 16 July 23, 1995

Dean’s POV

The beds at this motel were probably some of the best quality I’d ever seen. The mattresses weren’t lumpy or too hard and they didn’t smell musty or like cigarette smoke. There weren’t any questionable stains on the blankets either. It was actually a comfortable bed, and I didn’t take that for granted. I would undoubtedly be sleeping on a bed that was much less comfortable and much more sketchy in the next day or two.

We were in Washington right now, but we’d just finished the job last night. It had been my second official hunt, and I was still thrilled that I was finally allowed to be involved, to actually get to chase down and kill the monster instead of being stuck at home doing research.

It was only a simple salt and burn case, but I’d still had a lot of fun. Things had gotten exciting when the ghost showed up as we were searching the abandoned house she used to live in for the object she was tied to – it turned out to be the knife she had been killed with, still covered in her blood – but other than getting a little bruised up from being thrown across the room, nobody had gotten hurt.

It had been a long night though, and so, exhausted, I hadn’t been able to do more than strip down to my t-shirt and boxers before collapsing on top of the bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

I had slept deeply. I was slowly making my way towards consciousness, clinging to the dream I was already forgetting. It was about me and Jenna. We were… out with friends? On a date? The details were hazy and fading quick. I think we were at the movies maybe. I was startled into alertness by Sam’s gasp.

I grabbed the knife from under my pillow, rolled onto my back, and sat up, scanning the room for a threat. There was nothing though. Dad was gone, probably either talking with Ben or gone out to grab breakfast and coffee. There was just Sam standing at the foot of my bed, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, staring intently at my ankle. Staring at the name that was tattooed there.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He cried out in the voice of a little brother outraged at being left in the dark.

“Shit,” I muttered as I got out of bed and started getting dressed to hide the evidence. But the damage had already been done.

“Dean!” Sam protested.

“Let it go Sammy,” I ordered, rifling through my duffel bag for some clean clothes, deciding a shower was in order.

“Let it go?” Sam echoed, trailing me towards the bathroom. “Dean, this is huge! I thought we didn’t have secrets. You guys should have told me!” he insisted.

I set my clothes on the counter and was ready to threaten him to keep his mouth shut when something seemed to occur to him.

“Wait,” he said, backtracking a little. “Jenna does know, doesn’t she?”

“I’m only going to tell you this once Sam, so listen up. I don’t care if you’re my brother. If you ever tell anyone, especially her, I will end you,” I warned before slamming the door in his face.

Great, I thought. I’d been able to keep this thing a secret for less than a year. I wasn’t at all sure that I could trust Sam not to say something. Sure, he could keep a secret if he wanted to, but I didn’t know if I would be able to convince him that this needed to stay between us. Anxious thoughts swirled in my head throughout my shower, but by the time I got out I had a persuasive argument ready to go.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Sam was on the couch, restlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and stood to face me.

“I won’t say anything,” Sam rushed out at the same time I said, “We need to talk.”

“What?” I asked, not having heard him over my own statement.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised. “But… why haven’t you told her?”

I sighed. I should have expected this. Should have, but didn’t. I’d planned out how to persuade him not to tell anyone, had considered potential arguments he might throw my way. I hadn’t anticipated him immediately complying or the simple question that followed. I ran a hand through my hair as I considered how to answer.

“You know why,” I finally said, deciding that the argument I’d planned out would work as an explanation to his question. He just stared at me expectantly.

“I haven’t exactly made a secret of the fact that I don’t want to know my soulmate. That I don’t want her stuck living this life,” I told him.

“You love this life,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. I do. But it’s dangerous and it means never having a home. I won’t force her into that,” I explained.

“But she’s already a part of it. You won’t be forcing her into anything,” he responded.

“Just because she’s in this life now doesn’t mean she has to be in it forever. She’ll be able to make her own decisions in a few years. She can find somewhere she likes and stay there. She can get out of hunting.”

“Who says she wants to?” Sam asked.

“Well then that’s her choice if she doesn’t want to quit. I’m not going to be the reason though. I don’t want her hunting with me out of a feeling of obligation. I won’t do that to her.” I told him.

“You keep talking about her being able to do what she wants. What if what she wants is to be with you? Did you consider that?” he argued.

I had considered it. I decided that until I had a reason to think that she was interested in something more, I would leave things the way they were. I was happy just to have her in my life, in any way. I wasn’t going to push for more when what I had was already more than I could have ever hoped for. My soulmate was with me every day. And I didn’t have to worry about scaring her away. She already knew the whole truth about me and my life.

Frustrated that he kept pushing, I snapped, “I thought you weren’t going to say anything.”

“I’m not,” he insisted.

“Then why won’t you let it go?” I demanded. He scowled at me.

“If I’m going to be keeping this a secret for you, you can at least tell me why it has to be a secret. I told you I won’t say anything and I won’t, but I still don’t see why you don’t just tell her.”

“I don’t know how to explain it in a way you’ll understand,” I told him. “Can you just believe that I’m doing what’s best?”

He thought about it for a while.

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Fine?” I asked, relieved, but surprised he wasn’t putting up more of a fight.

“Yeah. Fine. Because you have less than a year before Jenna turns 16. You know she’s going to find out then,” he said confidently.

I hadn’t been letting myself think that far ahead. I wasn’t sure what to expect when her birthday came around again. Would she find my name somewhere on her body? Would she be happy or disappointed? Would she want to be with me or would she rather stay away and have a normal life? Would it even be my name she found?

“Maybe,” I said, humoring him for the moment. “But until then, this stays between us. Actually, this stays between us until I say otherwise,” I told him.

"Fine," he agreed. He wasn't happy about it, but he felt secure in the knowledge that he had less than a year before it would no longer be a secret. I both hoped he was wrong and hoped he was right. "Jerk," he added a little frustratedly.

I just smirked at him.

"Bitch."

Ages 15 and 16 September 13, 1995

I was sitting at the table in the Winchester’s motel room with John and my dad, discussing the case they were working on. Sam was in our motel room studying for a big test and Dean was just getting back from his afternoon out with the sister of the latest victim, trying to get more information.

“Hopefully Dean learned something useful so we can go in more prepared,” John was saying as we all heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. He had come up with a plan to catch the monster, but though we had theories, we still weren’t 100% sure what it was.

When the two of them had caught wind of this case, finding a newspaper article about a 14 year old girl who had gone missing – the third missing girl in this Colorado town this month – they’d immediately packed us up. The latest girl’s body hadn’t been found at the time, but the previous two were found a few days after their disappearances, covered in deep cuts, bodies drained of blood and dumped in rarely used alleyways. The girl from the newspaper article was found a day after we got to town.

My dad and John were able to find out almost immediately that the girl had an older sister and instructed Dean to start trying to get close to her. They figured the teenage girl might spill a little more information – especially when a mysterious new boy with a handsome face and charming smile was asking the questions – than her parents would.

“Well?” John asked as soon as Dean had the door closed behind him.

“Sorry, I’ve got nothing,” Dean admitted disappointedly. “She didn’t say anything different than what everyone else has been saying. And she was more than happy to answer my questions so I don’t think she was hiding anything. Maybe I just didn’t ask the right questions.”

“Alright. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We knew she might not know anything. I’m sure you did just fine,” my dad reassured Dean.

“Maybe. I’ll try to figure out if there’s anything else I can ask her that might give us something useful,” Dean said.

“No need. Jenna, why don’t you go get ready to head to the library,” John said. I stood up to follow his instructions and he turned to the array of weapons on the table.

“The library?” Dean asked. “You guys are doing research? We don’t even have enough information to go off of to know where to start.”

“Don’t we?” John countered, already irritated. I froze where I was. He never handled it well when Dean questioned him, no matter how innocently. He always expected instant compliance, a “Yes, sir!” kind of attitude.

“Ok, well I’ll come with then,” Dean replied.

“No you won’t. You’ll stay here with your brother,” John told him.

“Why? What’s the point in me sitting in a motel room when I could be with you guys doing something useful?” He argued. “The more people we have looking, the more information we can get through.”

“We don’t need more people. Jenna’s going alone.” John told him, the “end of discussion” clear in his voice.

“What?” Dean spit out through clenched teeth. I looked at him and saw him looking disbelievingly between the two men.

“You heard me,” John said, daring his son to question his decision. “We made a plan while you were out.”

“While I was out?” Dean said incredulously. “You mean while I was working the case? While I was doing what you told me to, you ‘made a plan’ to send Jenna out by herself?”

I’d never seen him argue like this with his father. With jerks at school, sure. With me and Sam, occasionally. But with John? I’d never seen him truly question his father, and I was worried where this might be headed and how ugly it might get.

“Yes, we did,” John said. “And the plan isn’t going to change just because we don’t have all the information.”

“Did the three of you somehow forget that this… this thing is taking teenage girls? Did you forget that all three of the girls he took had dark brown hair, pretty much exactly the same color as Jenna’s? What about the fact that he’s taking these girls from the library? That he only goes after them when they’re alone? Tell me how this isn’t enough information to know that sending her in is a terrible plan!”

“We’re not discussing this any further Dean,” John said with finality, moving to usher me from the room. Dean stepped between us, back to me, breath heaving.

“You can’t use her as bait!” he yelled. He ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign that he was beyond stressed. I set my hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. He took one quick look at me, his eyes wild, before he turned to look at my dad.

“Ben, how could you be ok with this?” He asked.

“I don’t like the idea either,” my dad said as he looked at me.

“So why-” Dean started.

“Because it’s the only plan I can see that catches this thing before another innocent girl is taken,” he said firmly.

“Jenna is an innocent girl,” Dean said.

“But not an ignorant one,” John countered. “She knows what she’s getting into. We have no leads on this thing other than it being in the library. It’s managed to avoid all security cameras so we don’t have any idea what it looks like. We don’t even know if it managed to sneak around so well because it works there or if it was just that careful about scouting out the place ahead of time.”

“Exactly! That’s why you can’t just let this thing take her, Dad! How bad do you think it’ll hurt her before we manage to find her? Who says we even find her on time? You can’t do it.”

John stiffened.

“Excuse me? I can’t do it? You’re giving me orders now?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. Dean squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“You heard me,” he said, repeating his dad’s earlier words. “You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Sensing that the situation was about to escalate to a point of no return, my dad stepped in.

“We’re not going to let it take her, Dean. Of course not. We’ll be there, waiting for it to try and grab her. And when it does, we’ll be ready.”

“You’ll be ready?” Dean said with an edge to his voice, never taking his eyes off of John. “You don’t know what the thing even is. How can you be ready?”

“We’re bringing everything. Whatever it ends up being, we’ll have what we need to kill it. I’m not going to risk my only daughter,” Dad said, trying to reason with him.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Dean finally turned to me.

“And you?” he asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet through this whole thing. Are you ok with this? They can’t make you if you don’t want to.”

“Dean,” I started, trying to decide the words to say that would calm him down, ease his nerves. “I’m ok with it,” I finally decided on. There was nothing more I could really say.

“You’re ok with it? You’re fine with being bait? Jenna, I know you. You try to hide it, but I can see how scared you are every time you come on a hunt. You’re telling me you’re not scared now?”

“No,” I said, and was surprised to realize I meant it.

“No?” He questioned disbelievingly.

“No,” I repeated. “Because I know you’ll be there,” I told him confidently, looking at John to see if he would contradict me and insist Dean stay behind. That’s what the plan had been originally, both John and my dad thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle it. When he just shook his head – not in denial but in irritated acquiescence – I continued. “Because I trust you. Because I’ve never had to worry about not being safe when you’re around. Because I know you would die before you would let anything happen to me.”

He looked at me for a few moments, processing the words I’d spoken with such conviction.

“You’re sure?” He asked one more time.

“I’m sure,” I told him. He nodded, resigned to the plan if not happy about it.

“Alright,” was all he said.

“Great,” John said sourly. “Now that that’s settled, we’ve got a job to finish. Get moving.”

~~~~~

An hour later I sat at a table in the most secluded corner of the library I could find. My biology textbook was laying open in front of me and the rest of the table was scattered with my notes and some old assignment sheets. We’d only been at this school for a few days, but I tried to carry all my notes from previous schools. It wasn’t uncommon to cover the same topic multiple times with all of the school-hopping we did.

Dean, John, and my dad were hiding behind one of the big bookcases behind me, waiting. I was actually doing homework, partly to keep myself calm and pass the time, partly because it’s what the monster would be expecting.

We were covering the digestive system currently and the teacher had assigned the class an essay taking her through the full digestive process from the perspective of the food that was being digested. It was definitely one of the weirdest assignments I’d ever been given. Unfortunately, I let myself concentrate a little too hard on my work, not paying attention to my surroundings the way I should have been.

“Excuse me,” a voice said to my right, causing me to jump a little in my seat. He was a man, probably in his 40s, wearing a little name tag identifying him as Trevor. “Sorry to startle you. I’m just letting you know the library will be closing soon, so if you could please finish up, that would be great.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, a little flustered. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. I started packing up my stuff, already mentally preparing myself for having to come back here tomorrow to try again, when I realized the man wasn’t leaving. Tense now, I looked at him. “Was there something else?” I asked.

“Actually, now that you mention it.” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and grabbed me, moving the needle towards my arm. He was quick, but I was quicker, reflexively swatting the incoming hand away with the arm he wasn’t holding in place, knocking the syringe out of his grasp and onto the floor where it rolled away.

“You little bitch,” he spat as he caught the fist I threw at his face. “Hard way it is then. You’re going to regret that. I enjoy a fight.”

I threw my knee straight up towards his crotch and he dropped one of my arms to block it. In blocking this attack, just as I’d anticipated, he’d dropped his head down to see. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer as I rammed the top of my head as hard as I could into his nose.

Momentarily stunned, he let me go and I ran in the other direction, wondering where the guys were. I meant it when I said I trusted Dean with my life. I obviously trusted my dad just as much and John too. But that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened to them. Trevor took only a second to recover before he lunged forward and grabbed me. He wrestled my hands behind my back and started to force me towards the back exit but he was stopped by my dad stepping out in front of him, gun pointed at his face.

“Let her go,” he commanded.

“How cute,” Trevor said. “I suppose you guys figured you’d set an easy trap for me in what I can only guess is some misguided revenge attempt. I’m afraid you’ve underestimated your opponent though. Those bullets won’t kill me. So now you both die.”

“I suggest you listen to the man,” John said from behind and slightly to the left of us. He also had a gun trained on the man. And then I understood. They’d taken so long to intervene because they were getting into position, sneaking around behind the bookshelves to surround us. I knew where Dean would be, behind and slightly to the right, but I didn’t look. Didn’t let this monster know we had a fourth person on our side.

“I don’t think so. Like I said,” Trevor said, still unconcerned about his odds, “It’ll take more than a bullet to kill me.”

“You mean because you’re a shapeshifter?” John asked as if he were having a casual conversation. “That’s why all three of our guns are loaded with silver bullets.”

That’s when I heard the gun cocking directly beside me. John had been the distraction, the way to get Trevor to turn his back so that Dean could get close.

“You’ve got one more chance to let her go,” Dean warned, gun pressed up directly against the man’s head.

“And why would I do that? I let her go and you kill me.” He breathed out, afraid now that he understood the guns were a very real threat to his life.

“If you don’t let her go, if you hurt her in any way, you can be sure that you’ll be wishing for death by the time we’re done,” Dad said. Dean grunted his agreement.

I could feel the hands on my wrists minutely tightening and loosening as he made a decision. The next thing I knew I was being shoved into Dean and the monster – shapeshifter, apparently– bolted for the door.

Dean and I fell in a heap on the floor, him flat on his back, me on his chest. I heard a gunshot, only one, and knew it was over. I didn’t know which of our dads had been the one to fire the shot.

I took a deep breath, letting Dean pull me into a seated position and hold me against his chest while murmuring into my hair, “Don’t you ever do that to me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

I didn’t respond. He knew I would do it again if it was ever needed the same way he would always offer himself up for the sake of others. I just listened to the sound of his elevated heartbeat and let myself enjoy the feeling of being held by him.

“How did you know it was a shapeshifter?” I asked once Dean had let me go.

“The real guy is dead behind one of the bookshelves,” John answered. “We knew what he was the second he came over to talk to you. Now let’s get this cleaned up and get out of here.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at his order, but I knew he was right. The real Trevor’s body would be left for the police to find. We needed to take care of the shapeshifter though.

We drove to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. It was mostly empty inside and everything was made of concrete or metal. It was the closest and safest place we could find to burn a body.

Once it was taken care of, we piled back into John’s truck and drove back to the motel.

Ages 15 and 17 March 18, 1996

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call from down the hall as he stalked towards me. He sounded annoyed. I knew how it looked, Tony casually leaning next to me, arm braced against the lockers. The halls were mostly empty as everyone went home for the day. I knew I had a big smile on my face too, knew the conclusion Dean had undoubtedly come to, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him playing overprotective big brother. Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him as he stopped within inches of me.

“What’s up, Dean?” I asked calmly. I didn’t fail to notice the way he angled his body slightly between the two of us.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he answered. “I thought you were going to meet me and Sam outside.”

“I was. I am.” I corrected myself. “Tony was just telling me about all the horses his family owns and he said I could come over and ride if I want.” I told him, getting excited again. I looked at Tony who looked slightly nervous. He was a fairly attractive, semi popular guy. A sophomore, like me, he was still growing into his long legs and widening shoulders.

“You really think your dad is going to let you go to some guy’s house?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” I answered defensively. “You and Sam go to your friends’ houses all the time.” I noticed Tony wince a little and pushed Dean away, only able to do so because I took him by surprise. He still only backed away a single step.

“That’s because our dad doesn’t care what we do and you know it. Your dad is way more protective,” he countered. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets you do something as stupid as go to the home of some random boy by yourself.”

“You mean before you let me go,” I retorted. “Well news flash Dean, you don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do. And what do you mean ‘stupid’? I want to go ride horses with a friend, not bungee jumping off a cliff above a shallow lake.”

“You’ve never ridden a horse before, Jenna! What if something goes wrong? You could fall off and hurt yourself!”

I was surprised he wasn’t backing down. He never used to have these kinds of arguments in public. He’d always been protective, but for the past year he’d been even worse. While deep down I appreciated his concern, right now I was just irritated.

“I have to drop my stuff off and let my dad know what’s going on, but I’ll try to be there by four if that works for you.” I told Tony, ignoring Dean for the moment.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tony said warily. “Whenever works for you. And if you don’t come, I’ll just assume your dad said no.” He told me, eyeing Dean before making a hasty escape. I huffed and turned to punch Dean in the shoulder.

“Really?! Why do you have to do this to me? You know how much I love horses! Why can’t you stop scaring away everyone I make friends with?!” I ranted. Dean just started walking for the door.

“I don’t scare away all of your friends. Only the jerks that are making moves on you. I mean, really Jenna? You think all he wants is to show you a few horses?” He mocked. He held the door open for me and, choosing to ignore his jab, I made a beeline for Sam, who had started walking once he saw us come out. Sighing, he closed the door and jogged a couple steps to catch up to me.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face him. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, you know. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Well maybe I don’t need you to protect me! Did you think of that? I’m not an idiot, I know he’s hoping for more, but I also know he’ll back off if I tell him to. And even if he didn’t, don’t you think I can handle one teenage boy? My dad doesn’t have me train for nothing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I asked him, exasperated.

I watched as he physically reigned in the automatic response that wanted to shoot past his lips. He worked his jaw back and forth and took a breath as he thought of the best way to say it.

“Guys suck. Ok? And I can say that with absolute certainty seeing as I am one.”

“Dean-” I tried to interject.

“No, let me finish. I just don’t want to see you get involved with some guy who's only going to end up hurting you.”

I waited to make sure he was finished before answering.

“Yeah, but did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t interested?” How could I be? There wasn’t a boy in the world who stood a chance of gaining my attention when the most perfect one was already in my life, completely oblivious to how thoroughly he had ruined the chances of me ever being interested in anyone else. Of course I couldn’t tell him this, so there was no real way to assure him that I was telling the truth. “Zero chance of me being hurt. I promise.”

“Maybe,” he said, clearly not sure if he believed me or not. “You could still fall off a horse though. I’m sure that would hurt.”

“Because the risk of falling off a horse is so much greater than getting hurt on a hunt?” I asked pointedly.

“Okay. You’re right,” he sighed after a moment of deciding whether or not to argue. “I’m sorry. You still have to get your dad to agree to it though,” he pointed out. I groaned and squared my shoulders, readying myself for the upcoming argument.

~~~~~

I was practically vibrating with excitement as Dean pulled into the driveway of Tony’s home. It had been one of Dad’s conditions, that Dean drove me. I could see several horses already and knew I’d be on one of them soon.

“Thanks Dean!” I said as I moved to get out of the car.

“Just a second,” he said, putting a hand on my knee to stop me. I paused with my hand on the handle and turned to him. “Just… promise you’ll be careful.” He finally got out. My heart stuttered a little like it always did when he worried. I knew it was only a brotherly concern no matter how much I might wish it was more.

“I will.” I told him with a soft smile. Then I jumped out of the car and headed towards where I saw Tony at the barn.

Chapter 3

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #original female character #original characters #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x soulmate!ofc #soulmates #soulmate au #so long v2

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beautifulblhell · 3 years ago

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Something Better To Do

Mafia! Suna x F! Reader

A/N: So this is for @nkogneatho‘s FMFM collab! Thank you for letting me participate and I’m so sorry for the late posting!! My procrastinating ass couldn’t do it in June and when July came life hit me like truck-kun 😭 Typed this with one brain cell as the heat has melted my rest and not proofread, so if there’s any mistakes please let me know!! (Or just pretend you didn’t see it T_T) Not super proud of this, but lately my creativity has been 📉

Tags: smut, fluff, mafia! Suna but nothing dark, all characters are 18+, protection (be responsible) smut is at the bottom part if you are only interested in the smut lol

WC: 3177

The day had started off so well. Your parents had to leave for an abrupt business meeting abroad and left at the crack of dawn. Usually you would meet up with Suna whenever your parents were away, but he has been away for ‘work’ for the past few weeks.

You knew it was for something important for the Inarizaki gang, and Atsumu had been tasked to go on this trip. But he had an argument with Osamu a few days prior, and with the latter refusing to cook for him, Atsumu gave himself food poisoning when he tried to cook for himself.

So Kita had told Suna to attend instead.

Your finger hovered above the messaging app, wondering if you should text him. The last message he had sent was from a week ago. With a sigh, you decided not to disturb him and closed your phone.

Still, this was the longest you had been without seeing Suna.

As if your daydreams blended into reality, you heard the familiar purr of a motorcycle. At first you thought you were dreaming. However, when you looked down from your bedroom window, you saw Suna coming to a stop below your window, the morning sunlight reflecting off his motorcycle. He lifted off his helmet, and those yellow eyes raised up to meet yours, his lips curved up lazily when he caught sight of you.

He was already standing at your doorway when you opened the front door and flew into his arms.

“Rin!” You cried happily.

His name has hardly left your lips when his mouth descended upon yours. He cupped your face and pulled you towards him, your lips repeatedly met together, making up for lost time. It was only when you felt Suna’s lip against yours did you realise how much you missed him. Your head was spinning when you finally pulled apart. The comforting scent of the cologne he wore and a hint of cigarette enveloped you.

It’s been too long, you thought, looking up at his face.

One of his thumb wiped across your glistening lips.

“Somebody missed me,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming back?”

“Thought I would surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did.” That’s when you realised.

“How did you know my parents weren’t home?” You asked in surprise. Suna never came to your house unless your parents weren’t home, and you usually told him beforehand.

The image of your parents’ initial shock was still fresh in your mind when you broke the news about you and Suna being together, which morphed into disapproval then anger when you said you won’t break it off with him when they told you.

“But he’s part of Inarizaki, the yakuza!” Your mother had said in horror. She would have been less shocked if you told her Suna smuggled pandas for a living.

It would be easier if you moved out of your house, but Suna knew how much your parents meant to you even if they didn’t approve of your relationship, so you would meet up in town whenever both of you were both free or when your parents were away.

“Hmm,” Suna only hummed as his arms encircled your waist and he nuzzled your hair, but you caught a faint glint in those narrow eyes of his.

With a sigh, Suna relaxed his whole body, and you stumbled at the sudden weight you had to bear.

“R-Rin, you are heavy!”

He leaned into your ears and whispered, “You didn’t say that last time I had you under me.”

“Rin!”

He sniggered seeing your red face, and stood back upright.

“Get dressed. I don’t want that nosy neighbour of yours to notice that I’m here and tell your parents once they are back.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, pulling your arms back unwillingly.

Sensing your reluctance to let him go, Suna’s lips brushed against your forehead.

“You’ll see.”

“Are we going to your place?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around his waist behind him on the motorcycle.

“Is that what you want?” Suna flashed you a teasing smirk.

You felt heat build up on your cheeks, and you buried your face behind his back.

“I don’t mean that! Just thought we could watch a movie or do something relaxing since you just came back.”

Suna did look a bit tired. And the smell of cigarettes has been stronger than usual. It was a habit of his, he tended to smoke more when he was irritated or stressed.

“If you continue to be so cute I’ll really take you to my place right now.”

“Nope, take me where you wanted to.”

“Later then,” You could hear the laughter in his words.

Then, with a twist of his wrist, the throttle thrusted the machine forward.

It was always exhilarating sitting on the back of Suna’s motorcycle. He drove fast yet with precision. Instead of driving, the term flying would be more accurate to describe what you were feeling. The familiar scenery of the city blew past as Suna expertly maneuvered between the traffic without slowing down. It was only when he started slowing down did you realize where you were going.

It was a few months ago when you made a passing remark of wanting to go to the aquarium when they finished building the underwater tunnel.

It was one of the things you love about Suna. Sometimes you would make a casual remark about a certain place that you were interested in going to, but Suna would always remember and take you there whenever he had the chance.

As you arrived closer, you noticed the long queue extending from the entrance. It didn’t come as a surprise seeing it was the opening weekend, but you were worried about how long you had to wait.

Instead, Suna simply sped past them and came to a stop at the back staff entrance.

A man in a suit and name badge stood next to a door that said ‘STAFF ONLY’. He had an anxious look on his face, which only deepened when he saw Suna.

“Ah, S-Suna-san, I’ve been waiting for your arrival.” He smiled, sweat running down his face. “I’m the manager, very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He bowed deeply, to which Suna only replied with a curt nod after he got off the motorcycle.

“This way, please.” He gestured towards the back of the entrance.

You turned towards Suna as you walked behind the manager.

“He looks so scared of you. What did you do, hold his whole family ransom?” You whispered, your eyebrows raised.

“No, I told him that I would let Atsumu cook for him for a week if he doesn’t let us into the aquarium.”

You choked back a laugh, trying to hide it since the manager turned around to hold the door open for you.

You had just stepped into the aquarium when Suna’s phone rang.

Suna took out his phone. With one look at the name displayed on the phone screen the decline button silenced the noise. Yet within half a second his phone rang again.

“Just ignore it,” Suna muttered, and turned his phone on silent.

As if knowing the calls will be ignored, your phone chimed.

Sender: Atsumu

‘TELL HIM TO PICK UP THE PHONE!!’

Then

‘I KNOW HE IS WITH YOU’

“Shouldn’t you pick up the phone, in case it’s something important?”

With a look of resignation on his face, Suna picked up his phone. Even with the phone next to his ears, you could hear Atsumu’s excited voice on the other end.

Suna’s eyes flickered to you, and from the look of his face, you knew your date was going to end before it even started.

“Fine, but I’m bringing her with me.”

After he hung up his phone, Suna turned to you with a look of exasperation.

“Atsumu. He said it was an emergency.”

“Oh,” you could feel your heart sinking.

“I told him that you are coming with me, so afterwards we can head back here.”

“Can I?” Your eyes lit up. Suna had taken you with him to a few informal gatherings before

“Doubt it’s anything of importance, seeing who was calling,” Suna muttered.

He glanced at the manager. “We’ll be back later.”

“Ah, that’s absolutely fine, sir,” the man bowed, and you can’t help but feel he was relieved to see the back of Suna.

By the time both of you arrived at the private VIP room in one of Inarizaki's nightclubs, all of the top members have already assembled on the sofa in the middle of the room.

Atsumu had greeted you both enthusiastically when you first entered.

And unfortunately for both of you, his enthusiasm didn’t abate one bit. An hour and a half later, you were still sitting at the back of the room, with the prospect of listening to Atsumu’s voice for the rest of the day hanging gloomingly in front of you.

You looked up at your boyfriend on the sofa, the only one sitting facing you. Thin wisps of smoke rose from the cigarette dangling between his lips. He made a non-committal ‘mmh’ whenever Atsumu’s words seemed to be directed at him, but from the look on his face you knew he was hardly listening.

By now, even Osamu was heaving a sigh at Atsumu.

“Samu, what are ya sighin’ for?!”

“Just wonderin’ how that single brain cell of yours could work for so long without overheatin’.”

“Hah?! At least I got one unlike yer-”

“Osamu.” Kita’s quiet voice was enough to bring an end to the twins bickering in an instant. He nodded at Atsumu to continue, and no one dared to say anything seeing that Kita wanted Atsumu to speak.

You stared in boredom at the sudoku puzzle on your screen, wondering if you threw your phone at Atsumu’s head it would solve the puzzle. You finally get to see Suna yet the precious time you had together was ticking away, wasted here.

That’s when the idea entered your head.

You raised your arm slightly, trying to catch Suna’s attention. He glanced at you questionly.

With a teasing smile on your face, you placed a finger on your lips. Then, you ran your finger down, until you came to a stop at the button of your blouse.

Slowly, you opened it.

Suna’s eyes widened and he froze. It was rare to catch him off guard, and you suppressed a giggle. Holding his gaze, the next button fell open. His eyes darkened instantly as he realised what you were doing.

In the dim light of the room, a sharp light has entered Suna’s eyes. He leaned back, his eyes narrow, as if daring you to see how far you could go.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. If any of the men turned slightly, they would be able to see you. But seeing the burning lust swirling in Suna’s eyes, the way his sharp gaze raked down your body, as if stripping you even more bare, it was more than enough to heat you up and fuel you on.

Biting onto the collar of your blouse, you lifted your bra up.

If only you knew what you were doing to Suna. It took everything he could not just to take you there and then.

Every muscle in his body was tense. He took his cigarette and mouthed the word ‘bathroom’.

With a small smile on your face, you left the room.

The moment he walked into the bathroom, his mouth crushed against yours. One of his hands held the back of your head, and his other arm slammed on the partition of the toilet stall near your head, trapping you with nowhere to go. His hips were pushed against yours, and you could feel the hard bulge throbbing against you. The kiss was hard, furious. The taste of cigarette entered your mouth when his tongue slipped inside, exploring your mouth, twisting around yours. By the time he let you up, both of you were gasping, the sound echoed in the empty bathroom.

“What do you think you were doing?” His voice was low.

“Just thought I would give you something better to do,” you grinned at him. You looped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

With the partition supporting your back, Suna lifted one of your legs until it rested at the crook of his elbow. His other hand reached down between your skirt and slipped inside your wet folds. The feeling of his long finger sinking inside you so suddenly made you gasp and you tightened around them. His eyes thinned as he felt your wetness coating his hand.

“So wet. Did it excite you that much to flash yourself in front of other men? Do you want to see you like this?” His voice took on that dangerous low tone as he hissed out those words.

You shuddered, temporarily lost in the feeling of his finger reaching so deep within you. It was a good thing you already took your panties off before he arrived, because it would have been torn into shreds otherwise.

“Only you,” you whispered once you got your breath back.

Hearing that, Suna added another finger. He was stretching you hard, finger curling inside you, reaching depths where you couldn’t on nights when he wasn’t by your side.

You pushed yourself against his fingers when his movements turned languid. Suna watched you lazily as you fucked yourself on his fingers, but the heavy desires clouding his eyes betrayed his expression.

“Rin,” you whined. Because you wanted him to fill you up.

His only response was easing his fingers out of you. You whimpered, clenching around nothing.

The sound of a belt being unbuckled never sounded so glorious to your ears. You looked down. Suna’s cock stood erect, precum leaking at the tip. Just seeing the sight of it made you yearn for him.

“Hurry,” you begged.

He ripped the small foil packet with his teeth.

“Don’t think your family is gonna be even more pleased with me if you get pregnant, but is that what you want? Maybe I should just fill you up.” The sound of his low voice made the coil in your abdomen tighten. His fingers traced along your stomach. There have been so many times when he imagined just filling you up, stuffing you full of his seeds until it dribbled out, marking you as his.

But not today.

He hooked his arms underneath your knees and lifted you up easily. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders and your legs settled around his hips. You lifted your hips up. Suna stroked his cock along your slit, teasing your entrance.

Then in a single stroke, his whole length sank into you. A strangled gasp left your lips.

“S-So big,” you choked out those words.

The stretch burned. His fingers earlier did not prepare you enough for the thick girth that forced its way into your walls, and you struggled to accommodate his huge length that was splitting you open.

Suna cursed under his breath. He rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. The feeling of your wrapped so tightly and deliciously around him made him shudder. He gritted his teeth to suppress the overwhelming urge just to fuck you and ruin you right here.

“Been wanting to do this since I saw you this morning,” Suna groaned.

His mouth ran down your neck, his hot tongue leaving a blazing trail in its wake until he reached your breasts. He sucked on your skin, leaving marks all over. Then, his hot mouth captured your nipple. He rolled it with his tongue, his teeth occasionally grazing it, earning a whimper from you.

Once you got accustomed to his length, you rolled your hips a few times, and seeing the pleasure was greater than the pain, you tried to lift up your body and move on your own seeing he wasn’t moving, but Suna grabbed your hips firmly. “Move,” you begged, close to tears. Suna simply rolled his hips, thrusting shallow thrusts that didn’t satisfy you.

A part of him knew you only wanted his attention, yet another part of him was angry that the other men almost got to see you. A sight that belonged to his eyes only.

“What do you want?” His voice was hoarse. Because he wanted you as much as you wanted him. All those nights he spent alone thinking of you, and here you were finally in his arms.

You looked at him straight in his eyes. “Fuck me, Suna Rintaro.”

The words snapped his last restraint.

Suna pulled all the way out, then slammed your hips back down, hitting the deepest part of you.

You would have screamed if it wasn’t for the fact that all the air was knocked out of your lungs by his sudden movement. Every nerve in your body was on fire. Your fingers digging into his biceps, leaving crescent marks.

The question of how you were going to walk briefly flitted through your mind, but by his next trust, your mind was empty because he had just hit that sweet spot of yours.

‘S-slow down!’

Contrary to your words, your hole was eagerly sucking him back in every time he moved, slick dripping down onto the floor.

His hips snapped to yours repeatedly as he fucked you relentlessly.

It took all you had just to hold yourself up. The pace he set was brutal. Lewd squelching sound and your moans reverberated in the enclosed space. The waves of pleasure crashing through your body threatened to drown you as Suna hit that particular spot that sent your nerves ablaze again and again.

Suna watched the way your eyes glaze over from the pleasure he gave you. The way you looked so perfect taking him all in.

You knew you weren’t going to last long.

“I-I’m coming, Rin,” you managed to say those words in between your moans.

“Then come,” his own voice was strained as he was nearing his own edge, his thrusts losing their rhythm.

It was the sight of you coming undone that led Suna over the edge. The way you arch your back, your walls spasmed around him, clenching so perfectly around him. And the way his name tumbled out of your lips as you came. Suna gripped your hips and with a few particular heavy thrusts, he came with a shudder.

For a few moments neither of you said anything. You were trembling from the high that you’ve just descended from, your heart racing in a furious double time.

Suna’s lips gently brushed against your forehead.

“You okay?” He murmured.

You nodded weakly. “Give me a minute.”

Suna nodded, his lips left light kisses across your collarbones.

Except…

“Wait, Rin, what are your hands doing?!”

Suna looked up at you with a smirk. “Time for round two.”

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | 2021.07.21

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andrewsleftknee · 3 years ago

Text

"he'll come back"

Neil goes for a run in the middle of the night and isn't back when Andrew wakes up.

----

Neil usually left for his morning runs before Andrew was awake. Neil woke Andrew up when he’d get of bed, but he’d brush Andrew’s hair from his eyes, kiss his forehead, and whisper for him to go back to sleep. Andrew would murmur something about how Neil should stay in bed with him, but fell asleep again before Neil was out the door.

he was never usually gone for more than forty-five minutes, and got back in time for him and Andrew to make coffee together before rinsing off and going to class.

one morning Andrew noticed it was still dark when Neil was going for his run, he asked him why he was going so early, and Neil just urged him to go back to bed. Andrew was too tired to argue with him, so he held his arms up in a silent ask for Neil to lean down to give him a kiss. when Neil got what he was asking for and gave him a kiss, Andrew fell asleep almost immediately.

it was the weekend, so Andrew didn’t wake up until he heard Robin get up around 9:30. he noticed that he didn’t hear Neil come back to the dorm and when he got up he saw that Neil wasn’t in the living room. he tried not to worry, but he didn’t know exactly how long Neil had been out. it was definatly longer than he usually was. Andrew’s guess was at least three hours. he texted Neil to ask where he was, and he didn’t hear his phone go off, so at least he had his phone with him. that made Andrew calm down a little bit. Neil would call him if he needed help. he had before, and now wasn’t different.

he walked over to make his coffee alone, and grab a granola bar to eat while he watched whatever Robin had left on the tv. he hadn’t gotten a response by ten, so he decided to call Wymack.

“i think your vice-captain is dead,” Andrew said.

“what the fuck? hello to you, too. where is he?” Wymack asked

“hell if i know. i’m assuming you don’t either, so bye.” Andrew hung up the call.

Robin emerged from their kitchenette with a concerned look on her face. her and Andrew held eye contact for almost a minute before Andrew told her that Neil hadn’t come back yet.

“he does that sometimes. he’ll be okay,” she assured him.

“doesn’t make it any less scary,” Andrew replied. he and Robin got along. he liked her. they didn’t really talk about their problems together, but Andrew somewhat trusted her with smaller things. “Baltimore messed us all up. we almost didn’t get him back then.”

“right,” she said. she raised her hand so it was hovering above his shoulder. she picked it up from Neil when she learned that Andrew didn’t like being touched. he shook his head. he didn’t want any one to touch him when he was anxious. he only ever let Neil. Robin nodded. “i’m always here, if that means anything.”

Andrew got up, grabbed his pack of cigarettes from his bedside table, and went to sit on the roof. he hoped he might see Neil running back, but knew he probably wouldn’t.

he didn’t know how long he had been up there when his phone started to ring with the familiar sound of Neil’s ringtone. he tried not to freak out when he answered the call, letting it sit silent until Neil spoke first.

“i need you to come get me,” Neil said after a moment.

Andrew let out a shaky breath. “where?” he asked.

“i don’t know. i ran until i couldn’t,” he replied.

“describe it to me.” and he did. after a few minutes, Andrew thought he knew where Neil was. it was around thirty minutes off campus. Neil explained that he ran around campus until his brain told him he needed to get away. he said that he didn’t make it too long before his legs couldn’t go anymore.

Andrew drove to get Neil. he was still in what he fell asleep in the previous night. he put the sleeve of the white hoodie to his nose. it smelled like Neil. he took it from him when they were watching a movie on the couch and Andrew got cold. the smell kept him calm for the drive to Neil.

when he got there, Neil was sitting on the side of the road. his knee was bleeding, and his hair stuck to his forehead. his eyes were closed, but when he heard Andrew’s car door open, he opened his eyes to see Andrew walking over to him. the sight made him want to cry. when he crouched down beside Neil, he put his hand on the back of his neck, and pulled Neil so his head was against his chest. Neil felt safe.

Andrew gave him a minute before helping him up and to the passengers side of his car. they drove ten minutes before either of them spoke.

“i’m sorry,” Neil said to break the silence.

“don’t. not right now.”

“are you mad?” he asked. Andrew looked over at Neil, who was already looking in his direction. Neil knew by the expression on Andrew’s face that he wasn’t. Andrew saw that when he felt Neil’s energy slip. it was like he finally let himself be tired. his back relaxed against the car seat, and his hands loosened from the almost-fists they formed in his lap.

“i’m not mad,” he confirmed. “i know you can’t help it sometimes.”

“i’m trying to be more open about it when the thoughts happen, but it,” he started. Andrew reached over and put his hand over Neil’s mouth to get him to stop talking.

“not right now. lets just go home.” Neil nodded in response.

when they got back the dorm was empty. he assumed Robin got Kevin out when Andrew left campus. Andrew walked them to the bathroom, helping Neil undress before turning the shower on and making sure it wasn’t too hot. he himself undressed, and joined Neil in the shower. they made it quick, and Neil was already trying to keep himself awake as Andrew dried his hair and covered the scrape on his knee.

they got into bed together. Neil had tried to talk about what happened, but Andrew stopped him, telling him that they could talk when Neil wasn’t so tired. Neil accepted that, and fell asleep with his head on Andrew’s chest.

Andrew didn’t mean to fall asleep, but his hand stopped trailing Neil’s spine, the tension in his body eased, and he dreamed of him and Neil on the roof.

Robin’s phone rung later that afternoon. she had went back to the dorm to get something for lunch, but Kevin was still out. he had said something about hanging out with Matt. she didn’t really pay attention.

“hey, Coach. didn’t expect to hear your voice on my off day. what do you want?”

“why isn’t Minyard answering his phone?”

“which one?” she asked with a smile. she liked to push Wymack’s limits like most of the Foxes did. she knew he meant Andrew, and she knew what it was about, but she decided to test him anyway.

“not right now. tell him to answer my calls.”

“he’s sleeping,” she sighed, a little upset that Wymack ruined her fun so soon.

“it’s past noon. wake him up.”

“i don’t have a death wish, Coach. Neil is fine. Andrew has him. can i go now? bye!” she hung up the call before Wymack could give her an answer, but seeing as he didn’t try and call her again, she guessed that’s all Wymack needed her for.

she got up from where she sat on the couch and went to the bedroom. she knew she didn’t have to check in on them, but she still does anyway. she sees Andrew and Neil as cuddled together as they ever get, and smiled to herself. she slowly closed the door behind her to try and not wake them.

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #robin cross #david wymack #andriel #andrew x neil #aftg hc #aftg headcanons #aftg headcanon

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cigarettesandslushies · 4 years ago

Text

destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms

word count: 1,700

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

#jd #jason dean #heathers #jd heathers #jason dean heathers #jd fanfic #jason dean fanfic #heathers fanfic #jd x reader #jason dean x reader #heathers jd #heathers jason dean

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

Text

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 4 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: mild cursing, paranoia/anxiety

Word Count: 3062

We love exposition in this house

Vincent had only seen you for a few moments. You'd been carried in by his brother, Bo. He'd placed you on the couch, and, naturally, Vincent had peaked out from upstairs to investigate. He thought that perhaps you were someone to add to their collection, or a new toy for Bo to mess with. Bo, usually, kept the pretty ones like yourself to himself. His twin was good at charm, good at smooth talking almost anyone. And he was good at not caring about whether or not they wanted to be kept. When he saw the way he'd laid your head carefully back on the pillow, a million thoughts were going through his head.

Bo usually took any outsiders to the basement underneath the auto shop. But here you were, being gingerly placed on their living room couch. He reached for one of the knives at his hip just before Bo was heading straight for him. He relaxed his hand, letting it sink back into the hilt. Bo had explained quickly and quietly.

They were going to keep you for him . Vincent had stared at him with one blue eye, gratitude and surprise filling it. Never before, not even technically with the wax figures, had they had someone who was for him. The wax town was their mothers dream.

He'd stared at you, peeking around the corner to take in your unconscious form. You had piqued his interest completely, even if he knew your sleeping form would soon contort into horror and screaming. That the peace would leave your features the second you realized they didn't intend on letting you leave Ambrose.

Bo had to snap in his face to make sure he was listening, make sure that he understood that you were going to be his teacher. Not one of his wax figures. He'd nodded. He wasn't stupid, but his brother seemed to forget that sometimes. Bo hadn't had time to explain much more, as you'd started to stir.

"Go on, get. Stay out of sight." Bo told him, and Vincent had reluctantly retreated out of sight and back down to the depths of his work shop. As he returned to the wax figure in the center of his room, his head was now filled with distracting noise as he tried to force himself to focus. He wanted to know more about you. You were the only new face that he would see and not become wax. The mysterious figure laying on their couch.

Eventually, he found himself listening in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the wall as he heard your voice filter through the house. He listened to your story, finding that it didn't sound too different than something their victims would describe. But that one thing you'd said struck him, and he knew it probably struck his brothers just the same. I should've killed that sonovabitch , you'd said. The Sinclair brothers had long ago made their peace with what happened inside of this town. Perhaps, eventually, you would be able to make peace with it too with an attitude like that. It could take awhile, but the brothers would have time. However, when you agreed to stay, a strange feeling of relief had crept into his chest and he'd finally been able to force himself back down to his workshop.

***

It didn't take long for the three of you to part ways. You'd called your apartment complex, letting the woman that worked the front desk know that someone was going to pick up your storage unit for you. When she'd asked why, you'd told her that you just didn't feel comfortable parting with it for an entire night. When she tried to insist that it'd be safe, you cut her off and told her to expect him. You didn't mean to be rude, but you hardly had the patience to argue with her knowing that your ex could be there any minute. Lester had offered to take the longer drive, as he'd said he knew where the town was anyways. So, it was up to you to show Bo where you'd left your car.

You leaned with your head against the window of the tow-truck, secretly relieved that Lester hadn't suggested you come to get the unit with him. You wouldn't be able to stomach the anxiety that trip would've induced, and it was nice to ride in a car that smelled like motor oil and grease instead of roadkill. Bo smoked, one hand resting out the window and the other on the wheel as the Louisiana heat competed with the a/c inside the tow truck. You looked over, watching as Bo brought the cigarette to his lips. He looked over at you, catching your stare and smiling to himself. You looked away, shyness and embarrassment filling you from having been caught.

"So," Bo started. He paused for a moment. "This might be a little too much to ask, and I don't mean to offend." You turned your head back to him, arching a brow to show that you were listening. "Which one of you was older?" He asked, and you stared at him in confusion for a moment before you realized what he was asking. It wasn't what you were expecting, you'd give him that. Given his flirting nature, you'd expected a much different question. Instead, you ran a hand through your hair and softly said,

"She was." You smiled to yourself for a moment, turning to look out the windshield before you added, "By ten minutes. She always used to joke about having to wait for me for everything." And Bo smiled at that as well. You watched him take another drag of the cigarette, changing his grip on the wheel, before he said,

"I'm the oldest," And you found yourself looking at him over in surprise. You didn't know he had any siblings. Well, you figured you could blame that on the fact that you'd only met him that day. "Born less than a minute before my brother, Vincent." And your eyebrows shot up. The news that he had siblings and that he was a twin surprised you.

"I didn't see him back at the house." You commented, trailing off. You wondered when you'd get to meet him, and hoped he wouldn't mind your intrusion. You were going to be staying with them, after all.

"Oh, he's just shy. Stays mostly to himself." He said, and you nodded. But the news didn't stop you from biting at your lip. You didn't want to cause any waves between the brothers, especially because you were sure that Bo hadn't asked Vincent before he offered to let you stay. You bit at your thumb, and Bo looked over to arch a brow at you. You pulled it from you mouth, realizing that he must've noticed the anxious habit. His brow lift was questioning, and you could guess what he wanted to know.

"Vincent," You paused. "Vincent won't mind me staying with you, will he?" You asked, and you watched the way he broke out into a grin. He laughed to himself, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Is that what you're worried about? No, no. Vincent won't mind a bit. Having someone as pretty as you around the house? He won't mind at all." He said, and you had to turn away to hide the smile creeping up your face. You shook your head lightly, choosing to ignore his flirting remarks. You looked out, pointing down the road. You didn't even need to say anything, as Bo was already remarking, "I see it." And stopping in the road before making a three point turn. You were relieved from the sight of your car, and to see that it hadn't been stripped or broken into.

You'd gotten out with the intent to help Bo, but, just like Lester, you thought you were slowing him down if anything. Eventually, you just ended up sitting on the hood of your car and eating a bag of chips that you'd packed for the ride. You offered him some, and he took off his cap to wipe his brow before he took the bag. He'd hooked your car up, and now all he needed to do was lift it to tow it back to Ambrose. He chewed for a moment, before he said,

"So, Lester told me you teach sign language, right?" And you were quick to nod. That you did. You wondered where this was going, but Bo didn't keep you in suspense. He was just like Lester in the way that he wasn't one for long silences. "Well, my brother, he," He rubbed his face, as if he might not know how to put this. Or maybe he was debating how much he should tell you. "He's got a facial deformity. Wears a mask to cover it up. Bit of a freak. Might scare a little lady like yourself." He said with a laugh, looking as though he expected you to laugh with him. You didn't. You didn't like the use of that word, but you didn't say anything and waited for him to get to the point. "Anyways, he can't speak too good because of it. Since you said you wouldn't be able to pay for your car, do you think you could teach him?" He adjusted his stance, and the look he gave you already told you that he expected you to accept. Truthfully, you couldn't find a single reason as to why you'd refuse.

"Of course. I've- I've taught adults, and I'll try to teach him as much as I can before I leave. And, well, you'll probably need to take lessons too so you can understand him." And Bo nodded along with that, even if he looked away and seemed reluctant with the idea. He didn't seem like the type to particularly enjoy school, but he agreed nonetheless.

"Sure, sure. Well, we can start tomorrow if that's alright with you." And you gave him a nod. It seemed like the best idea to you too. "Alright, well, if you don't need anything else then let's go." He said, rapping his knuckles against the hood of the car and passing the bag of chips back to you. You threw it back into your car, before you were shutting the door. As the pair of you each walked to your respective sides, he asked, "You hungry?" And after you replied,

"I could eat." It didn't take long for the pair of you to decide to get something for dinner. It'd been about a fifteen minute drive, and, even if it wasn't the town you were moving into, you were still nervous about the potential idea of your ex finding you. So, you stuck to Bo like glue, practically hiding behind him every time you saw someone who looked a little too much like your ex. You'd gotten a couple of pizzas. By a couple, you meant that you'd gotten three large pies. At first, you didn't even know how the two of you were supposed to finish them until you went back to Bo's house and watched him devour over half a pizza by himself. You'd eaten two slices, and you almost thought that Bo would've finished yours as well if you hadn't been there. The pair of you had been watching TV, eating, drinking, and waiting for Lester to return. It took less than an hour for his truck to pull up, your storage unit attached to it. Lester walked inside the place like he lived there, and Bo simply said,

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Before Lester was heading that direction. He came back with two slices on a plate, and suddenly the three pies made a little bit more sense. He sat in-between you and Bo and asked,

"What're we watchin'?" Right before he stuffed his face full of a slice. After a full episode of whatever Bo put on and several slices of pizza later, you figured there had to be some sort of relation between the two of them. Their mannerisms were too similar, and they were just too comfortable with eachother not to be related. You figured they were cousins, maybe even brothers. The thought of brothers brought the mysterious Vincent back into your mind, and you wondered where the third of their little family may be. Soon, Lester was wiping his face and asking, "So, do you need help unpacking?" And you realized that you hadn't talked about your sleeping arrangements yet.

"Oh, do you have a guest bedroom?" You asked, but Bo shook his head as he pried a beer bottle from his lips.

"Nah, you'll take Vincent's room." And you were flustered by the bluntness of the statement. You quickly shook your hand out in front of you, saying,

"Oh, I couldn't." Earning a glance from the brunette. With the way he looked at you, you guessed he wasn't used to being argued with. Quickly, you explained. "I mean, won't Vincent mind?" Being in his house, taking his room. You knew you would. Bo chuckled, seeming amused by your statement.

"He won't. He barely uses it." And you bit your lip. You looked between the two of them, before giving Lester a shrug.

"Sure then." You said, and Lester took your plate to take to the kitchen after giving you a smile. You'd only needed one of your suitcases, really, but you searched for a box to carry to make yourself feel a little less bad about Lester carrying the suitcase. You heard the door open, and Bo announced that he was gonna head down to town to finish up some things. You'd watched him leave for a moment, before you went back into the unit and found the box you were looking for.

You didn't know how long you were going to be in Ambrose, and you didn't imagine there'd be much space in Vincent's room. But, as Bo had eluded, it was practically empty. There was a dresser, a pre-made bed, a bedside table, a mirror on the wall, a rug on the floor, and that was about it. Lester had carried your suitcase for you, and you set your backpack on the bed. You looked over at him, telling him,

"The bed is fine." And you watched as he lifted it up onto the bed. You opened the box, revealing the contents inside. It was mostly books and folders, but there were two picture frames inside. One was a family photo when you were young, one with both of your parents. The other was a more recent one of you and your sister. You didn't look at either of them long, and went to set them on the bedside table. Lester looked over your shoulder, glancing at the pictures.

"That your sister?" He asked, and you gave him a nod as you went to unzip the suitcase. Luckily, you'd stored your unmentionables in the pocket on the top, so you didn't have to worry about Lester seeing anything you didn't want him to.

"Yeah. We were identical." You told him, and pulled out some of your shirts. You went to the dresser, pulling out a drawer. You weren't surprised when you saw it was empty, and you tucked your clothes inside. You knew Lester was just looking for a topic of conversation, but you didn't feel like lingering on your sister. So, instead, you asked, "Anything fun to do around here? The house of wax any good?" And you watched as he chuckled and nodded,

"Yeah, Vincent's a hell of an artist. It was our mothers originally though," And your ears perked at his words. So, they were related. He was biting at his nails, and you hummed.

"I'll have to check it out- If that's alright with Vincent." You quickly added the last part. At this rate, you weren't sure Vincent was going to end up liking you. You didn't want to intrude any further. You turned your head for a second, hearing a creak of a floorboard. Lester, however, was quick to steal back your attention.

"Nah, Vincent won't mind." And your attention was stolen from the sound. You looked back at him, not quite sure if you wanted to take his word. You took out some of the books, placing them on top of the dresser. If not to just give yourself something to do. "That house of wax though, that was our mothers pride and joy. She had big ideas for this town." And you hummed. You bet that she did, but you guessed the same thing happened to Ambrose as every other small town. The interstate. You arranged your books on the dresser, a question burning in the back of your mind.

"Any idea when I'll meet him?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at the man. He grinned, chuckling to himself as his eyes flashed to the wall. Just for a moment, almost too quick for you to notice.

"Soon, you'll meet him soon." He'd said, and you found his words strangely cryptic. But, you resigned yourself to the fact that your first meeting probably wouldn't be until your first class. And, while you could've sworn you heard footsteps, you blamed that on your mind playing tricks on you.

Seeing that you seemed to have everything handled, Lester excused himself. You'd invited him to the lessons before he left, and he'd accepted before he said goodnight. You'd smiled to yourself, hearing the door click as Lester shut the door behind him. You finished packing away your things, before you decided to shrug off your clothes and change into your pajamas. Even if your bedtime was far away, you thought you'd be more comfortable. You pulled your suitcase off the bed, kicking it under it before you climbed on top. It felt a little weird to be sitting on top of someone else's blanket and sheets, but you'd forgotten your set in your car. You pulled some of the folders out of the box, taking out the ones that were filled with the lesson plans for your adult class. All you really had to do was shorten the class size. You let your evening pass by as you began prepping for the next night.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair

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sakuramoussy · 2 years ago

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Bonus Story - Harsh Recovery

Takes place after ‘Lost and Found’

The day after Luis returned home from two weeks of torture, Luis slept in for the first time in forever, then called Sin to report back when he felt ready. Vin didn’t leave his side, and pulled him in close, holding Luis’ face against his chest where Luis could hear Vin’s steady heartbeat. Luis didn’t even bother to clean himself up last night, he was too exhausted to do anything but quickly eat the rice and drink the tea that Vin made, and then the two curled up and fell asleep. Thinking back, he probably smelled horrible too, a mixture of blood, sweat, and dirt, probably cigarette smoke as well from the gang’s chainsmokers. After he made the call to Sin, he returned to his room to find Vin carefully removing the cover and sheets from the bed, pillowcases already draped over his arm as he prepared to do laundry. The bed was a mess, Luis was filthier than he thought, he just didn’t notice it due to the absolute exhaustion his body feels right now. He still feels weak, and wants to go back to bed, but he knows he should clean up and try to just get back into his routine.

Luis watches as Vin starts the laundry, then returns to Luis’ closet to pull out fresh, loose clothes for Luis to change into, then prepares bandages and antibiotics as he starts to run a warm shower. Luis lets Vin coax off his clothes, lets him spray him down with the showerhead, lets him run his hands through his hair and wings to wash out the grime and filth. Winter sits outside of the bathtub and Vin silently cleans Luis up, then tends to his wounds. Winter will likely be clingy after his owner went missing for two weeks straight, he doesn’t know any better. After Luis is all cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothes, the couple makes their way to the kitchen where Luis quickly sits down. He’s so much weaker than he thought, barely being able to keep moving around and doing things. It’s a miracle he managed to walk from the bus stop back home without stopping for several rests in between.

“You don’t have to talk about any of this, but I’m here to listen if you want to vent. I know you didn’t intentionally leave, and you’d never abandon Winter.”

“You're right.. I wouldn’t.”

“Winter found Candi, dragging your bag around frantically in the city..”

“Oh.. So Candi brought him..?”

“To Death Manor, yeah. Sin and Melody agreed to let me take him since he seems most comfortable and less anxious with me. He’s just been lying with me, nosing my stomach and whining, he really missed you.”

“I was so worried about him.. I didn’t know if he made it home safely. Thanks for helping me out through this.. And taking care of Winter in my absence. Let’s.. Talk about what happened later, it’s a lot to process right now..”

#my art #primordial life #vinluis #pl vin #pl luis #luis #vin #primordial life story scene #pl story scene #stories #pl story

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years ago

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Good Team | B.W.

Pairing: Bill Weasley x fem!reader

summary: Right after you graduate from Hogwarts you manage to get a job as a curse breaker at Gringotts. You surprise your dear friend, Bill, as the two of you get an assignment together, to find precious manuscripts, in a place believed to be only a legend. word count: 7696

warnings: language, cigarettes (Bill is a smoker), briefly nudity (a shower), food and drinking, alcohol, a bit of violence, an injury

a/n: It’s finally here! I’ve been working on this one for so long, seriously, but it was a lot of fun. It’s my first Bill fic and it is pretty long so I’m a bit anxious, so if you liked it, please do leave some feedback, it means the world to me!

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @thisismynerdyself ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss ; @lumos-barnes ; @hufflepuffalice ; @slytherclawbitch ; @famdomhideout ; @mollenniumfalcon ; @accioweaslcy

You drew the string on your trusted backpack and patted it gently.

You looked around the room one last time - mostly to calm yourself down rather than to actually check whether you had forgotten anything - if you had, you wouldn’t have noticed it anyway.

You picked the backpack up with ease, even though its contents would allow you to survive in the wilderness for weeks. Thanks to your fresh, new job, you had obtained a permit to charm it with the Undetectable Extension Charm.

You threw on your dragonhide jacket, then glanced at your watch while tying the shoelaces of your boots – 10 minutes till you were supposed to be at Gringotts to pick up your Portkey. Just enough time.

The day for William Weasley started ordinarily. He was supposed to be back at work at 9 A.M., after having a few days off thanks to an assignment well completed, to receive a new one.

He also knew someone new, from England, was going to assist him on this one. It wasn’t uncommon for him to work with others, curse-breaking was a highly dangerous, often tricky profession, after all, so he didn’t put much thought into it. Maybe apart from hoping they wouldn’t make his job more difficult for him, which was fair.

He had woken up in the small flat he was renting in the city. Having grown up on the outskirts of a small village in Devon, living in a big city was an entirely new thing to him – with all it had to offer. He quite enjoyed that, so even though he was out on the job rather often, he opted to rent a flat in the city and commute to work, outside of it, by apparition.

The flat was pretty shabby, but he didn’t need much. The bed in his small bedroom was situated in just the right spot in relation to the window, that most of the year the sunrays hit him in the face, waking him up, at just the right time – like today.

He got up and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to pull on after a quick shower. Then he had a mug of coffee with a quick breakfast. The grounds at the bottom of the mug stubbornly got into his mouth a few times, but he didn’t care really – he just spit them out and took another sip, glancing at the clock while the news reporter on the Muggle radio spoke in the background.

Bill could understand a few words here and there at this point – the man presented the weather forecast, as Bill was finishing his coffee and cleaning up after himself.

A quick change of clothes and a teeth brushing later, he was glancing at himself in the broken mirror of the tiny entry hallway. He seized a hair tie off a dresser and tied the upper half of his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail, then apparated to the headquarters of the Egyptian Gringotts branch.

Standing by the Portkey with less than a minute to go you felt slight nerves in your stomach. You couldn’t know if this was the excitement of your new job and finally getting to see and surprise Bill, or just the anticipation of the unpleasant feeling of travel you were about to experience.

You had no time to dwell on it. “Miss Y/L/N,” the goblin called out your name to signal you, and you grabbed the broken clock, then a few seconds of your insides turning later, you were standing in some kind of hall.

“Miss Y/L/N, right this way, please,” before you could have a look around, another goblin spoke from behind your back now, evidently not wanting to waste any time.

You were brought to an office and told to wait for your new supervisor to fill you in. You had a feeling this would take long, and you were right.

The office decor was quite unlikely for goblins, there was no grandeur – on the contrary, it looked rather mundane, and very beige. You got to study the appearances of Mr Wickedgher – the goblin you were waiting for – and his predecessors a few decades back. Behind the small window covered by aluminium blinds, you saw ordinary buildings on the other side of the street.

After a while, you started bouncing your knee up and down, while admiring Wickedgher’s quill arrangement – it was very neat. There were a few moments where you heard voices in the corridor outside the door, but they passed by.

Finally, the fourth time it happened, after a voice unmistakably belonging to a goblin, you heard a very familiar, deep and warm wizard’s voice. You straightened up in your chair a bit, (as if it mattered,) then got up when the door opened.

Bill was shocked to see you, just as you expected. You put your warm greetings off until you were done with this meeting. You couldn’t tell if Wickedgher picked up on the fact that you and Bill knew each other – and if he did, he didn’t really care.

You sat on the edge of your seat when he spoke – you had only received a brief description of your assignment in England and it seemed as if Bill knew nothing. Even though they were stationed in Egypt, the goblins were sending you into the middle of Europe upon learning some new facts concerning a legend previously believed to be made up. The task, although very challenging, seemed exciting.

“We were able to confirm one location you can start with, I’m afraid you’ll have to take it from there. We have prepared you a Portkey that will depart tomorrow at 7 A.M. precisely. Any further questions?” your boss asked calmly, glancing at a drawer in his desk very briefly.

You thought intensely – this was your first job, nothing came to mind now, but was there anything else you could ask about? Anything you should ask about?

You put your faith in Bill. He glanced at you after a second, to check if you were going to say anything, then replied, “We’re good, Wickedgher. Anything else today?” “I suppose you could use the time to show our new recruit our office, but nothing apart from that. Just make sure you’re on time tomorrow.” “Will do,” Bill said and you nodded, then you grabbed your backpack lying at the foot of your chair and the two of you left the office.

Bill had his back turned to you. A cheeky, slightly shy smile made its way onto your face. He turned around with arms crossed on his chest and an eyebrow raised, suppressing a smile. “Got something to say to me?”

You grinned at him, saying “surprise?”, and you saw him break, so you reached up to embrace him. He gave you a tight, Bill, bear hug.

“Why haven’t you told me, you rascal?” he chuckled, still holding you a couple of seconds longer. “I wanted to surprise you..! I applied right after I got my N.E.W.T. results and they reached back two weeks after. When they told me I was going to Egypt I knew I had to keep it a secret, though I didn’t know they were gonna give us a mission together until three days ago,” you explained, still beaming at him. When you decided to become a curse-breaker during your fifth year at Hogwarts, working alongside Bill once again seemed like a dream. No matter how helpful the rest of your friends have been over the years, you didn’t feel as good with any of them by your side, during your curse-breaking feats, as you did with Bill.

“That would be because I’ve just finished working on one nasty tomb down south then,” he told you, his facial expression saying he was just recalling that particularly difficult task he clearly just wanted to forget about.

Bill showed you around the few spaces to your disposition during work and you took some time to go over all the evidence you had been provided with, and prepare yourself for the assignment. Then the two of you decided to grab lunch and coffee together, to catch up.

“So where are you staying? Renting anything?” Bill conversed, lighting a cigarette, as the two of you sat at an outside table of a small café. “No, not yet. They still haven’t told me if I’m gonna be stationed here, or for how long. And as for today - I wasn’t really expecting to have to stay the night here just yet. I thought we were leaving right away,” you admitted, you still haven’t figured out where you’d be sleeping that night. “Oh- then, you can crash at mine. It’s not much, but it would be hard to find anything for you on such short notice…” Bill offered, concerned.

You felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. But then you supposed crashing on the floor of his flat was nothing in comparison to what you were probably gonna go through very soon.

“Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that,” you smiled at him kindly.

You followed behind him on the narrow staircase of the old apartment building, after a day full of walking around the city. On the fourth floor, Bill walked up to one of the doors, fumbling in the pocket of his jeans for the keys. Standing by his side, you had an odd mixture of feelings.

At 18, most of your friends still lived with their families. It was a part of stepping into adulthood, but nonetheless, it felt strange to think that you were about to walk into a friend of yours’ own flat.

Upon entering the tiny space, you saw Bill everywhere. It did look like a 20-year-old’s place. There was a faint smell of cigarettes present and it was quite tidy, but not Molly-like immaculate. Just like Bill – the most laid-back Head Boy Hogwarts has ever had.

Going from the tiny entry hall there was a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a room serving as a living room and a bedroom, with a foldable couch.

“I was speechless too when I first saw it,” he joked, making you chuckle. “Make yourself at home, Y/N! You thirsty, want something to drink, water..?” He walked over to the kitchen and visually searched it. “Nah, I’m good for now, thank you,” you replied, walking over to the couch after setting down your bag. “…Booze..?” he continued, in a tone pretending to be ashamed of the question, a single hand holding a bottle poking out of the archway. “Sure, Weasley, let’s get hammered the night before a job. 7 AM, remember?”

“Eh, suit yourself,” he said, stretching his back while he walked over to the window. The sun was setting, the room was illuminated by its pinkish-orange rays. He opened the window, reaching one of his hands into his back pocket for a smoke.

You walked up next to him and leaned on the windowsill.

It was a beautiful evening. The warm air was blowing in your face, the sun setting low and you lost yourself, enjoying that moment. You felt an immense sense of freedom, like you could do just about anything at that point. Nothing was stopping you, all worries and responsibilities forgotten. All you felt was the open world in front of you, and Bill next to you. You were happy.

“We should probably get an early night. A good rest before leaving for Merlin knows how long won’t hurt,” Bill reasoned, breaking the silence, as the smoke from his last drag was leaving his lips. The sun was almost fully set now, the inside was getting dark. He stubbed the cigarette out on the outside of the wall, then tossed it into an old jar, already half-full with others.

“Right, yeah…” you nodded, pulled out of your daydream. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?” he asked.

You felt a bit odd using his shower, though just like any shower outside of home.

After turning the water on you allowed yourself to relax a bit. You took a look around the kind of cosmetics he used and it felt like learning some deep secrets.

You lathered your body and tried not to think about the less pleasant part of your job, namely, when would the next time you get to take a proper shower be, after this one.

A double knock on the door startled you. “Would you like tea?” William asked from behind the door. “Uhm… yes..?” you replied, subconsciously covering yourself. Even though there were a closed-door and a wall between you, it felt strange to speak to him while you were naked. After that, he was gone again, and you quickly finished your shower.

When you walked out, the couch was unfolded and the bed was made. On the floor, some distance from it, laid a make-shift bed out of blankets.

Bill was in the kitchen, sitting by the small table, looking out the window with a steaming mug in his hands. Another one was waiting for you on the other side of the table.

He looked up at you as you walked into the room, then sat down opposite him. “Thank you,” you said, sliding the mug closer to yourself. “I like having one before sleep,” he confessed, referring to the tea.

When Bill was taking a shower you had a look into your backpack, preparing for the morning, then looked out the window some more to pass time.

He walked out in a pair of boxers and a loose, weird sisters t-shirt. You wondered if that was how he usually slept or if he put the shirt on because of you.

A bit hesitantly, you walked over to the bedding on the floor, ready to tuck in for the night, but he stopped you.

“You didn’t think that when I offered you a place to crash, I’d make you the one sleeping on the floor,” he pretty much stated. “Noo,” you replied sheepishly, both of you knowing well that you did.

You walked over to your spots and laid down in silence, then you could hear the rustle of Bill’s bedding as he tried to get comfortable.

“Thank you, Bill,” you said, quietly. “Not a problem,” he replied, and you rolled onto your side to sleep.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, sounding as if he were falling asleep already. “Good night.”

When you woke up it was already bright outside. You rolled onto your other side and saw that Bill was still asleep.

He was sleeping without covers, curled up in a ball. His long hair was messy and his face half-buried in the pillow. You let yourself look at him for a moment with a small smile on your face.

Glancing at the clock, it was still early. You closed your eyes back, to wait until he woke up. When you opened them again, you could smell the breakfast being cooked.

Bill was trying to be as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t have to be up earlier than necessary. As soon as you realised what was going on, you felt giddy. You stretched in bed, then got up. When Bill heard the commotion, he poked his head out of the kitchen.

“Morning,” you greeted with a smile upon seeing him, making your way to where he was. “Good morning, colleague,” he replied, then got back to making food.

He appeared to have washed up and dressed already, his hair half-tied up into a bun. You sat by the table, wincing after hearing the term. “Colleague?” you asked, not amused by that banter. He chuckled with his back turned to you, but didn’t reply. “Tea, coffee?” he asked sunnily instead. “Coffee, please.”

He poured some into a mug, then placed the ready food on a plate and carried all that to you at the table.

“Thank you, Molly,” you couldn’t help yourself.

Bill snatched a kitchen rag off the counter and with an angry expression, placed his hands on his hips. The resemblance was uncanny and you found that funnier than you probably should’ve.

With a smirk, he let go of the act after you giggled and joined you at the table with his own plate and mug.

“How did you sleep?” he asked. “Pretty good, thank you. It didn’t take me too long to fall asleep in the evening. And I actually woke up before you did, but fell back asleep.” “Oh, wow.” “Yeah, how was your sleep on the floor? You seemed to be pretty comfortable,” you giggled to yourself, recalling the image. Bill cleared his throat, “I am a man of many talents, and sleeping anywhere is one of them.” “Okay, then…” you suppressed another chuckle.

“How d’you feel before your first job?” “Excited, I guess?” you answered truthfully. “I think I’ll do okay. You always said I’d be a good curse-breaker…” “And I stand by that.” “How did you feel right before your first job? What was it, some castle ruin in Wales..?”

“Mhmm, yeah…” he mumbled, chewing on his food. “I remember not being able to get a good rest because Fred and George stayed up and had a little emergency. They mixed up the powder of a few different types of fireworks and almost blew the whole house up. Excited to go to Hogwarts, they were. Charlie and I had to help them fix it without waking mum up so she wouldn’t find out,” he grunted. “So you’re already one up on me.”

Bill extended his hand to you, to help you up after you’ve fallen out of the Portkey.

“Ahh, I thought I was getting the hang of it, I landed in Egypt pretty gracefully,” you grunted while getting up, brushing gravel off of your butt. “Practice makes perfect, love,” Bill commented, already scanning your surroundings.

You found yourself on a dirt road, and though the opening for the path was pretty wide, there were miles of woods surrounding you. You had a rough idea where in central Europe you were situated, in a valley between mountains. You didn’t expect to find what you were you were looking for so easily, however, so all maps you could need were securely in your backpack.

The weather was pleasant, much cooler than Egypt for sure, but it was still the middle of summer. You tapped the watch on your wrist with your wand to change it to local time.

“6:06 AM – look, we went back in time…” you joked stupidly and Bill looked at you with a half-smile.

“We should move. From this spot, it shouldn’t take us too long to find some clues mentioned in those notes.”

Your goal was to find a tower, where over 500 years ago, a wizard named Halllegend Hugshot supposedly lived and carried out his research and experiments. The fruit of said research was the true purpose of your mission.

The only real problem was that apart from a few lucky apprentices, nobody has ever seen the tower. Halllagend was believed to have disappeared without a trace somewhere off the coast of the Black Sea, and the folk from a nearby dwelling, long abandoned and in ruin, said the area was always empty, uninhabited. And till that day it was believed to be only a legend, magical historians saying that Hallagend never set foot in that part of the world.

You went on quite the hike through the woods, the only thing to guide you were vague notes and a few inaccurate maps from the middle ages. Dawand Davisshot, for example, would find his way to his mentor’s residence by cutting through a cave that has collapsed centuries ago.

You and Bill had your lunch on the way, wanting to make as much progress as you could before setting up camp. Hours were passing, you’ve made your way up a smaller mountain and the only thing keeping you from believing you were completely lost – were occasional sightings of things like peculiar rocks or old trees that may have been the landmarks mentioned by the apprentices.

“You think when we get there, what’s next?” you questioned Bill a bit out of breath, to relieve boredom, well into the afternoon. “Hmm?” Bill muttered, pulled out of his thoughts. “We find the tower, we high five, we get inside and then what? See a desk in the middle of the room, and on it, a pile of parchment rolls waiting for us to take them? What do you think the place is going to look like?” “Guess I haven’t thought about that in much detail. Could be anything... But I doubt a regular building would’ve remained uncharted for that long,” he pointed out. “I suppose,” you agreed. “I’m just hoping for no dragons inside. I’ve had my share of dragons…” you mumbled, recalling your venture to the portrait vault and mostly, the time you joined Bill on his job at a dragon sanctuary.

You’ve noticed that he stopped and hesitated to go further, looking around and down at the ground.

You dug your foot around a bit. The ground was covered with dense thickets, it was easy to blend in with the rest while walking. Underneath, however, was not soil, but solid rock.

“Good one, Weasley,” you praised, having a closer look, and he didn’t reply. The mineral was like nothing you’ve seen before. You didn’t reckon it was Muggle.

When a single ray of sunshine got through the leaves above, when the clouds moved with the wind, shining on it, it almost glowed.

“The place looks like what Humpty Wanderer or whatever his name was described…” Bill observed, suspiciously. “Where’s the tower, though,” he didn’t hide his mild annoyance.

It was true, the opening in the trees stuck out in the middle of the woods, and all that rock seemed justly out of place.

With the lack of a better idea, you took your wand out and raised it. “You think a simple spell will break his defences?” Bill quipped defiantly.

Ignoring him, you opted to start with the simplest one – you cast Revelio nonverbally and the mineral started to glow underneath the cover. You could see now that it covered all of the circular area of the opening in the trees.

You looked at Bill with the smuggest smile. “Shove it,” he retorted in a friendly manner, then flicked his wand to get rid of the thicket. The general glow subdued and shapes started to reveal themselves. Shapes you recognised to be runes.

“HA!” you laughed “Don’t take ancient runes for your newts, it’s good for nothing, d’you know how boring it is?” you mocked the voice of Bill from a bit over two years ago, when you were finishing your fifth year at Hogwarts, about to start your sixth year, and he – graduate.

“Yeah, I take it back, alright… I’d be fucked without you,” he muttered, studying the shapes without understanding. Instinctively, you’d counter that. But instead, you smiled idiotically to yourself at those words, reading a bit too much into them.

Bill looked up at you expectantly and you blushed a bit. “So… would you..?” he prompted, bringing you back to reality. “Ah..! Yeah, yeah, of course…” you muttered, then went on to translate the message.

“It says the passage can be opened on the night of the new moon… the new moon..?” you looked at him desperately. Waiting around for the right phase of the moon didn’t sound very pleasant to you. “No, no, that’s in a few days. What is it today, the 22nd ?” “Yeah.” “Then that’s three days from now,” he said, with focus written on his face.

It made you feel a bit guilty, as if by translating the message you were the one making you two sit around and do nothing in the middle of nowhere.

You set up camp in a pleasant spot not far. Being one to fear an encounter with wild animals after dark, you made sure to set up magical barriers as well.

The tents Gringotts provided its curse-breakers weren’t the most luxurious, the goblins had better things to spend their gold on. Your tent consisted of two rooms – one, middle-sized, with a bunk bed, a table that could fit four people and a small, very basic kitchenette. Off to the side was a bathroom.

“Shotgun the top bunk,” you announced after Bill finished setting up the tent and the two of you walked in. He tutted and swore.

That evening you prepared supper for the two of you and as a peace offering after snatching the superior bunk, you also made some tea.

“Bill..!” you called out to him when you were done. He had been hanging around before, then disappeared. “Out here!” he answered, by the sound, from somewhere near the tent entrance.

Upon stepping outside, you saw two foldable chairs and a table, and Bill standing next to them, looking unsure.

“Ah, making a house feel like home,” you commented and Bill winked in reply.

You sat outside as it was getting dark. Your moods were mixed after that eventful day. You were exhausted after the whole day of walking and you weren’t exactly happy with what you discovered. You couldn’t know what would happen on the night of the new moon. All left to do now was wait around for three days and it could still be for nothing.

But you supposed it could still have been worse.

And so both of you weary, you got ready for bed and clambered into your bunks. You turned off the light and tried to get comfortable in the cold camp-bed.

“Night, Y/N,” said Bill, yawning, bringing you a bit of comfort. “Good night, Bill.”

And so the first day ended.

When you woke up the next day, your whole body ached. Bill was already up, it was past 11 AM. After making a teasing remark about how well you slept, he disappeared somewhere, while you groggily ate ‘breakfast’ and got ready for the day.

He was still absent when you finished, so unsure what to do with your time, you grabbed a book you took the liberty of packing into your backpack. However, after you positioned one of the chairs in the shade underneath a tree, you managed to read half a chapter before you saw him walking back towards the tent.

You were curious as to what he was doing but didn’t want to appear nosy. Glancing up from your book with a small smile, you showed you had acknowledged his presence, and hoped he’d start talking first.

He smiled back and walked past you, inside. You fought a battle with your curiosity, your fingers almost ready to close the book.

But you reopened it fully in haste and pretended to be immersed in it, when he came back out a minute later, after having refilled his water bottle.

He placed the second chair next to you and sat down with a heavy sigh. Agonizingly slow, he opened the bottle and quenched his thirst.

“What’re you reading?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

You tried not to show your mild disappointment and raised up the book to show him the cover and let him see for himself.

“Mhmm… I’ve heard about it. I read her last book and wondered if this one was any good.” “I’ve barely read a few chapters but so far it’s alright,” you pondered.

Bill hummed in response. He leaned back in his chair and looked up into the bright sky, closing one eye due to the sun poking through the leaves.

“I took a walk and had a look around the area,” he started. You hummed this time. It was exactly what you were waiting for. “Yesterday not enough for you?” you asked. “Why, muscles achy?” he teased you, nudging your leg with his. He was fit, you had to give it to him. Ignoring your groan, he continued – “I found a nice spot by the cliffside. Maybe we could go there tonight.” “Why do you wanna hang around a cliff edge during the night?” “I thought it would be good for stargazing if the sky’s clear,” he explained, making you suddenly feel a few degrees hotter at the thought. “If we’re to camp here, might as well do something worthwhile in the meantime,” he reasoned.

“Wow…” you exclaimed, after arriving at your destination as the sun was setting.

This spot showed a clear view of the valley and the stream running through it. You could see all the surrounding mountains and the different various layers of flora at different heights.

“Told you,” Bill said in an undertone.

The cliffside itself didn’t look as dangerous as you had imagined. The spot was actually quite cosy, you felt sheltered. You put a thick blanket over a large log to sit on it.

The two of you admired the view almost wordlessly until the sun was fully set.

The starry sky prompted a bit of nostalgia in both of you. You reminisced your years at Hogwarts, talking of your shared adventures and friends. Of how you visited the Burrow for the first time and almost sabotaged your trip, wanting to prepare a gift for the Weasleys. Or how indecisive Bill had been with his career choice in his OWL year.

A cloudless sky during the night caused a chill in the air. The two of you had brought blankets but you still subconsciously sat a bit closer to Bill and leaned into his side, as he leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky.

“Good thing I went with curse-breaker in the end,” he stated. “Yeah… and here we are,” you chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said. Bill sounded different that night. He spoke in a tone you’ve never heard before. It was simultaneously deeper and softer, reaching into your very soul. And without thinking, you somehow spoke differently, too. Your voice was sweet and tender.

“We just make a good team,” you claimed with a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed.

There was a bit of a pause after that, after which he added – “…and I’d have bored my ass off otherwise,” making you laugh. “This camping trip’s not so bad after all…”

“Aaah, ah..! I almost forgot!” he began, straightening up abruptly. “I packed this…” he muttered, reaching into his own bag to retrieve a thermos with two mugs, one for each of you. He flicked his wand and the mugs filled themselves in the air, then floated into your hands.

And so the custom was followed. You went back into the tent before too long, and when Bill wished you a good night that time, it felt somehow better, spreading warmth through your body.

And so, the second day ended.

You felt a gentle stroke on your shoulder, that had nothing to do with what you were dreaming of. In an instant, you couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming of.

“Y/N…” Bill said quietly, standing next to the bed as you laid on your side with your back turned to him, and woke you up completely.

He retreated his hand, you took a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes, and stretched. When you turned, you saw him leaning his forearms on the railing. “I made breakfast and got tired of waiting,” he admitted, smiling a bit.

Indeed, you could smell food and coffee waiting for you at the table. The air was considerably chillier than the two previous days. When you got up and pulled a hoodie over your head, Bill opened the door a little to let a bit of natural light inside.

You sat at the table together, not saying anything, and for a moment you forgot why you were there in the first place. You forgot how inconvenient the delay seemed at first. You couldn’t place the feeling, but you were really happy about spending that time with Bill.

There he was, with all his cool aura – his hair half-tied up at the back per usual, slight stubble on his face, wearing a loose, grey t-shirt, fitted jeans and boots. And you got to see him with his resting face on, then furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he wondered whether to put raspberry or strawberry jam on his toast, while he sipped on his morning coffee. And nobody, and nothing else around.

He looked up suddenly, noticing you haven’t touched anything yet and pulling you back to reality, his blue eyes pierced into you. You dropped your gaze instantly and he did the same, you felt the heat reach your cheeks right away.

He cleared his throat quietly, possibly making the situation more awkward. “The weather got worse,” he began, having made his decision concerning the jam. “Yeah, it’s chilly, isn’t it?” you chuckled, hugging the hoodie tighter around yourself. Bill turned to you with a smile and you noticed once again, that he was wearing a t-shirt. “Right, of course…” you recalled all the times at Hogwarts when you’d wrap yourself in jackets and scarves, while he walked around in barely a thin long-sleeve.

You spend the rest of the morning each doing your own thing. It started raining in the early afternoon, providing you with the background noise of pitter-patter, the droplets hitting the tent’s surface.

Bill suddenly remembered he had packed his set of wizards’ chess, which kept you entertained for about a couple of hours.

“It is still gorgeous outside, though,” Bill pointed out, pulling the fabric covering the entrance back a bit to take a look.

He walked over to his bag with a purpose, grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over his head. “Care to join me..?” he asked. “In what?” you questioned in reply, confused as to what he had in mind. “Getting a bit of fresh air,” he answered, matter-of-factly. You stared at him with an expression suggesting the idea wasn’t very appealing, which only seemed to make him smile wider.

He snatched his jacket and throwing it at you, said – “Come on..!” with a grin, then pulled the hood over his head and walked outside.

Fully certain you had gone insane, you put on his jacket and joined him. He looked completely unbothered, content just standing there. Having cast the umbrella charm, you quickly skipped over to cover him too.

Bill dried a part of a boulder for you to sit on. “See? Pretty nice,” he noted and you scoffed in response. But his shit-eating grin meant you couldn’t keep a straight face.

It wasn’t bad, despite the rain it was quite sunny. You had Bill’s jacket on, keeping you warm from the wind, surrounding you in his scent, and his mood was contagious.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans. “You wanted to go out just so you could have a smoke, didn’t you?” you quipped. “Not just for that,” he countered with a cheeky smile, putting the cigarette between his lips. “Remind me, have I asked you before what your mum said when she found out that you smoke?” you put on a face of the deepest thought. “…she doesn’t know,” he answered, lighting it.

He was right, it was pretty nice.

You sat in comfortable silence. When he finished smoking, you put your head on his shoulder, almost pulled in. It came to you without another thought, to wrap your arm around his, your other hand resting in his elbow, and he rested his cheek on top of your head.

The sound of rain all around you, tapping against the leaves above brought you a sense of serenity. You looked at the sky above, wondering if you could perhaps spot a rainbow somewhere, as the sun poked through the clouds for a moment.

You felt the gentle weight lift off of your head and, almost instinctively, you lifted your head too.

“Do you think I’d look good with earrings?” Bill asked, thinking deeply. “Or just like one, maybe..?” You chuckled, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this guy.

“Probably depends on what kind of earrings you’re thinking of…” “Something cool,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Ah, of course. Well then, I guess so. Would match your vibe,” you said without much thought, not looking at him.

He was suspiciously quiet, so you turned your head and saw the mischievous smile. “So I’m cool, huh?” he shrugged his eyebrows.

“Forget I said anything,” you shook your head again and tried not to smile or blush. “Fat chance. I’ll store this one deep down,” he announced. “Though I may have heard that one once or twice before…”

You had no witty comeback for that, and your façade cracked quickly. You started laughing and Bill joined in quickly. It felt light-hearted.

You didn’t know when his face had gotten so close to yours, he brushed a strand of hair off your face and his hand stayed on your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin delicately and you leaned closer, leaving the last step to him.

He connected your lips, yet they were barely touching. He tested the kiss as if he expected you to push him away any second, and when he pulled away it left you awakened and frustrated.

He saw that in your eyes, while his showed shock. He kissed you once again, passionately this time, pulling you in. You kissed him back with just as much emotion, you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hood got pulled off in the moment. You failed to realise you broke the umbrella charm. One of his hands remained on your face, cupping your jaw, while the other found your waist, both of them felt as if they were made to be there.

He pulled away reluctantly. Only then you realised just how soaked the two of you were and laughed about it. Needless to say, you ran back to the tent hastily, to dry yourselves off.

And that night you could safely say that it felt, by far, the best out of all the previous times, to be wished good night by Bill when he lied next to you in the warm bed, as the sound of rain lulled you to sleep.

And so, the third day ended.

The final day before the new moon, the weather was considerably nicer.

You didn’t talk much on your way there. It was getting dark quickly, but you could see the spot in the distance – the almost courtyard-like area where the tower, or the passage to it, was supposed to appear, stuck out like a sore thumb.

You arrived there and waited. It got dark, and you still waited for something to happen.

“It said the passage can be opened, but not how to open it,” Bill pointed out.

You didn’t say anything. Truthfully, because he was right. And the fact that there could be something you should be doing right now, but instead, you were just standing there, was scary. You could be waiting until the very dawn and nothing would happen, and for your next chance, you’d have to wait for a full moon cycle, or come back to the goblins empty-handed.

“It’s… it’s still early, the sun has just set,” you attempted to stay positive, looking up at the dark sky and trying to find the moon.

It took some more waiting for you to start seriously worrying, Bill was pacing the area and smoking. But then you felt something.

Very strong magic in the air, it was like the whole ground was shaking, shaking your insides, while none of that physically happened. The moon shone through the opening in the leaves above, and once more, the rock below you started glowing.

This time the glow kept growing, it became unbearable, you had to close your eyes to protect them, and the magical force became so strong it was pushing you away from the circle.

This lasted for maybe two minutes, yet felt much longer. You saw through your eyelids that it was dark again, and nothing was pushing you away anymore. You were finally able to take a proper breath.

“You okay?” Bill asked, concerned, from somewhere behind you. “Yeah,” you answered and nodded, even though you could see nothing. You cast Lumos Maxima overhead and Bill finally joined you as you realised you stood a few meters away from the steps leading up to an old, wooden doorway. Doorway into the tower.

You looked at each other as if trying to find answers for what just happened. When you walked up the steps slowly and approached the doors, everything suddenly became eerily quiet. You could no longer hear the forest around you.

“What do you think?” you asked Bill quietly. “Just… just stay on your guard.”

You did so, but without seeing any other option, placed your hand on the door handle.

You knew immediately what happened, feeling it drive through your mind. It was enchanted, the entrance used Legilimency on you, but this was not your first time. You blocked your mind quickly, and the lock clicked soon. You pressed the handle and opened the door ever so slightly, just so it wouldn’t lock again.

“It was enchanted. The handle. Some security charm, it used Legilimency on me,” you explained, coming down from the shock. “Did you manage to block it?” Bill questioned, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Yes,” you replied as if it were obvious.

“Can you use Legilimency on objects?” he asked after a few seconds, remembering you were a natural Legilimens. “Think about it, Bill, you should have your answer. Though if something’s charmed to have sentience, maybe. Haven’t tried…”

You stepped inside, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for anything dangerous. Bill lit the lamps, and you were able to get a proper look at the spacious room.

It looked like a normal house. From the 1400s of course, but nonetheless. Not a hermit’s lair, not some kind of evil den, but a house someone lived in. It wasn’t even dusty, or cobwebbed. An illusion charm?

After searching the entire first floor you still didn’t come across a study, a lab, or anything alike. You were about to leave one of the rooms when you heard a familiar purr.

“He had a cat..?” Bill wondered, but your eyebrows furrowed. “A chimaera, rather,” you replied, making his face fall.

There was no other way out for you, anyway. Hoping your experience with chimaeras would prove enough for you to handle this one, somehow, you stepped back into the main hall.

The beast stood guard in the centre of the room, proudly, and didn’t show any signs of aggression just yet. It watched contently as you made your way along the walls towards the exit at first, but it didn’t like it when you got closer to the staircase upstairs.

Its purrs changed into growls and its hoofs kicked the ground angrily, giving you a clear signal to stop. The surroundings changed, the paint started to peel off the walls at first, everything began to age rapidly. The tower seemed to shake the stronger, the louder the beast roared, and threatened to fall apart.

There was no other solution now, but to fight it. Yet even for two certified, skilled wizards such as you and Bill, and adult chimaera was a dangerous challenge. Stunning spells were flying, you had to dodge attacks from the beast who could not decide whom to attack while thinking of a solution.

As you were getting tired, so was the beast, but that still didn’t mean your success was close. You saw your chance when it was about to pounce the ground in front of you. You got ready to cast the Conjunctivitis curse and raised your wand.

The chimaera hit the ground and you felt a sharp pain at the back of your neck, then everything went dark.

When you eventually came back to your senses, you felt incredibly tired. Your head was lying on something soft and warm. You could open your eyes, but you didn’t want to, you felt comfortable like that.

“Y/N..?” you heard a warm voice say as someone’s fingers delicately pushed some hair off your forehead. Bill’s voice, and Bill’s hand, you realised. And underneath your head, was Bill’s lap.

You opened your eyes slightly and saw his face, a bit shiny and dirty due to the dust that stuck to his sweat. He was relieved. You also noticed you were still inside the main hall of the tower.

“How do you feel?” You took a breath and wet your lips. “I could use a nap,” you admitted, making him smile.

You sat up with his help and felt the back of your head. It still hurt a bit, but probably not as much as it should’ve. You could feel a freshly healed wound there - Bill’s doing.

“Where is it?” you asked, impressed with how not only Bill remained intact after you’d collapsed, but also you were still alive. “I managed to push it back into one of the back rooms and close the door,” he answered, looking into space as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

You looked around all the rubble and remembered why you’d come here.

“Soo… all that for nothing, huh,” you said grimly. “Well, not quite,” Bill corrected you, “there’s still the attic.”

You carefully climbed the spiralled stairs, hoping for no more security beasts or charms. You took the door which stood out the most and hit the goldmine.

A room full of bookcases and worktables, measures, ingredients and lab glass. Little bottles everywhere, and above all, scrolls upon scrolls of parchment.

It felt weird to finally be done with it. You were almost sad to leave, as you hiked back down the mountain the next morning, but shook the feeling off instantly. You couldn’t know what the future held for you. What epic assignments were yet to come. One thing was certain.

“Soo…” Bill began, looking straight ahead. “…Still looking for a place to live..?”

#bill weasley #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x mc

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ateezinmymind · 4 years ago

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Rocker! Hongjoong x reader

angst, fluff ending

tw: smoking, drugs, alcohol, foul language, vomit, depressive symptoms, sexual harassment and toxic behavior—please don’t read if sensitive!! I don’t condone these acts <3

~you wanted to be more like him and less like you

~“fuck off! I don’t want to see that shit-face of yours again!!” ~

Tears streaming down your face, staining the flesh with a trail of black from your running eyeliner. You can’t get those last words out of your head, taking in a breath of smoke, and exhaling through your nose. Trying to ease the pain of abandonment—you contemplate what you’re going to do now.

Standing up from the concrete staircase you’ve been sulking on for the past 15 minutes,, burning out your cigarette—you make your way down to the only place you can think of..

The blaring sounds of screams and cries piercing your ears—the smell of alcohol and smoke,, bodies together,, this...this was it. This was where you could let go...let loose..and live.

“I am a cancer. I am a creep. I am the black sheep”

Hearing those booming lyrics-you look up to the stage. Finding the lead singer screaming into the mic—and bouncing with his guitar. From the eyeliner to his ripped-chained pants..you were sucked into a void. Eyes burning from the atmosphere,, head pounding—now heart aching. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Hey baby..can I get you something?” —snapping out of your self destructing trance, you look up to the raspy voice speaking to you.

~“Let me buy you a drink...you here alone?” ~

The buzzing effect in your body-taking you away..you felt numb. You didn’t feel right,, blurred vision, limp body—you were useless. Feeling your head being shook and lightly slapped, trying to blink your way to clear sight—you started to fade..

hearing the lone sounds of laughter and booms—everything felt underwater. You couldn’t quite see, hear or breathe. Maybe this was what you needed..no one loved you anyway. For fucks sake-you got kicked to the curb tonight—by your shitty once called boyfriend. Who which you caught cheating—and to which led to you being pushed out the door-with nothing but a pack of cigarettes and a twenty dollar bill.

You were drowning,, choking, needing air. Desperate..everything turning black,, it was what you deserved... until—

“Hey bitch!!”

jerking conscious from the ice water—wet, cold and vulnerable..you’re surrounded by big figures. Your body finally awake, the smell of the place hits you like a truck. Only causing your body to respond naturally—meaning dry heaving. Choking—you weakly stand up to be towered by the looming men. Clutching your stomach—you needed the bathroom, slapping your hand over your mouth to control the potential mess. You wobble forward..clearing a path to your destination— All while the lead singer watches you from afar....

Barging into the bathroom you’re met with a couple making out by the sinks, and the stench of regurgitated essence. Only causing the feeling in your stomach and throat to worsen..abdomen convulsing you knock through the stall—and spill your guts. Face flushing from the lack of air—your nose and throat burn, and your stomach churns with sickness. Flushing your vomit down the toilet—your mind hazes once again...and soon enough you black out against the stall wall—helpless.

———

Hongjoong hasn’t seen you come out of the bathroom for the past 20 minutes..he was starting to get anxious himself. But he still had to finish his last song before ending tonight’s show-

“You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick”

The bright lights—beaming all different tones of red and blue. He lived for the stage, the rush of adrenaline when the whistles and screams came. Hongjoong was meant for the spotlight—his soul voice, talent for the guitar-and his aura in all. He was a performer,, meant to please his audience—and when he saw you come in tonight, all ragged, sad and helpless. He couldn’t stop watching you, you were everything he wasn’t. And when those men spiked your drink—he wanted to kill them so badly, but he didn’t want to risk his place.

Sweat pooling down his face, hongjoong finishes the last song—

“Everyone wants a ride. pulls away, ooh—from you”

The screams from people lungs, the jumping of bodies close together, and the sweet sweet feeling of glory—all lasts for a second....

Jogging down the hall towards the women’s bathroom, Hongjoong gets stopped in his tracks. A girl extremely tipsy, reeking of alcohol puts her hand on his chest. “Heyyy..youurrr, yyou’re that s..singer guy...” trying to push her away—she only falls to her knees. “Excuse me—move” not understanding his words she squeezes hongjoongs thighs, then wraps her dirty fingers around his pants chain and pulls him forward. “S..Stop being sooO difficult..lemmeee make youu feel g..GOood” rubbing him she fiddles with his zipper

“What the fuck! Get off me bitch!” Pushing her head back she lands on her ass, and hongjoong steps over her with disgust. “Go give some other fucker a blow” taking a deep breath, he tries calming his raging thoughts of the drunk woman. Speed walking to the bathroom, barging through the door he screams at the couple grinding on each other “GET THE FUCK OUT!!-“

sending them running away, he sees your bare legs from under the stall. Pushing it open-he wants to hurl, but seeing you unconscious he swallows the urge down. “Hey-babe?” Shaking your limp body, causing your head to slide off the wall and hang down. Quickly hongjoong holds your neck in place and examines your face and body.

Your damp hair and top-makes him curse under his breath...how dare someone put something so fragile through hell? Why did he feel the need to help you so bad? Was it because of your differences...that he felt the need to protect you. And harm all the people who decided to put you down, and treat you like shit..

Trailing his eyes down, hongjoong sees your legs-scraped, cut and bruised, then he can’t help but notice your attire. The big T-shirt dress wasn’t doing its job in covering your lower half well, when sprawled on the bathroom floor, so he decided to help,,picking you up and taking you to somewhere safe...

———

The shooting feeling of your head pulsing caused you to wake finally conscious.. not knowing where the hell you were. Under the sheets of an unknown bed, surrounded by band equipment-you started to panic. Breath staggering-heart racing, eyes tearing up you quietly sobbed.

What did you do?? You’re in a strangers bed, and who knows what they did to you. Wiping your eyes you look down—dressed in a loose navy shirt, and boxer shorts...definitely not what you wore yesterday. Sniffles fill the empty room, and the smell of your hair comes to realization. Shit..someone really cleaned you up..

Heaving in a sharp breath—you feel your heart speed up..shit~not now..you can’t lose your mind right now. Someone can come get you-and you’ll be defenseless and weak against them. Ripping at your legs—trying to feel your way back to yourself through pain..you just whimper. Taking your head between your hands, hanging low—tears fall on the bed covers. The sounds of your sniffling cancel out the foot steps advancing your way through the hall-

“Hey~you’re awake”—jerking your head up to the mans voice..you immediately regret it, because your skull jolts in a jabbing pain. Making you cry out and curl in a ball, holding your head. “Wo..woah,, you okay babe?!” Hongjoong speeds to your suffering self. He didn’t know what to do..looking at the sheets and seeing your tear droplets..he can’t help but scoff. You have problems, it’s unreal...how can someone be so destroyed—physically and mentally??

Unscrewing the lid to the cool water bottle he brought in, he sits himself next to your hunched self. Placing his hand on your soft hair, he gently brushes strands out of the way..so he can see your face. “I know you probably have a million things on your mind right now..but I need you to drink some water-please” the mans voice somehow soothing the tightness in your chest, you open your eyes

His damp hair covering his eyes, his gentle hands gripping the water—you weakly slowly started to make your body lift.. eyes continuously leaking tears, you gently reach for the bottle. Slightly grazing his hand, you quickly look into his brown orbs in apology. “Sorry—” Just from talking to him out loud you feel pressure coming up again. Heaving in a deep breath-trying not to crumble again already just in the span of minutes, “what am I doing here?”

As Hongjoong watched you take a swig of water he softly reached his hand with nails painted black to wipe your cheek of tears. “Well...you were unconscious—so I wasn’t just going to leave you there like a shithead..” gulping, and putting the cap back on the empty bottle you take in his words. Your body being overwhelmed with awkwardness, you cover your face and whine. “You b-bathed me..and put me into n-new clothes..”

hearing Hongjoong chuckle out, you quickly uncover your face with shock. Why was he laughing at you?!! What did he do?? “Don’t worry~ I didn’t do anything to you,, just cleaned you up...I wouldn’t make moves on a someone not aware of their own decisions..” looking back down to your legs your mind begins to turn against you once again...

~Of course he wouldn’t do anything to you..no one would want to anyways. You don’t deserve anything, because you’re no good for anything.~

“Are you okay??” Cupping your head, you slowly give him a nod..eyes pooling with warm fresh tears. You blink away the blurriness, trying to calm down and speak again. But all you do is choke out a broken cry, “I s-shouldn’t be here...I don’t even know you, I don’t know where I am...and I-“ looking away from him, staring at your bandaged legs. Droplets falling onto your skin, you sniffle and realize your once broken skin that was decorated with cuts and bruises were now covered and protected.

“I understand..please forgive me, I’m hongjoong..I’m the lead singer and guitarist from the band you heard playing last night-“ lifting your head by your chin, he gives you the softest look. “y-yes I recognize you..I’m y-y/n-“ finally giving you a bright smile, and taking the bottle from your grip Hongjoong slides off the bed. “So what’s your story?-“

———

Walls broken down—exposed to the male you only just met a week ago...you’re starting to feel not so drifted from the world. Slowly regaining and healing...all thanks to him, all thanks to the person who is the complete opposite of you. He’s given so much to your little self, and you took the time, to breathe....take in the good and actually find meaning to live. Overcoming cruelty that fed the blazing fire which spiraled your self valuing into the pits of hell..

he saw you when you were drowning, in need of help.. and made you feel worth living for. With Hongjoong, there would be no more doubt, he..the man in the spotlight, chose you....

Who would’ve thought you’d turn up here.

Where this new beginning started....

But only this time, you weren’t in it alone....

“Before we start up tonight, I want to introduce an important person.” adrenaline coursing, blinding lights, aggressive shouting and screaming filled the hall... “Everyone, this is Y/n...”

————————————————————————

tagging my wife @hongjoong-a-holic 🥺

~this is kinda a mess...don’t really know what I was doing....I’m sorry

lyrics from: black sheep by palaye royale + black sheep by kailee morgue!!⭐️

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scriveyner · 3 years ago

Text

then they begin: 01 (2022)

then they begin 2/36 WC: 752 Rated: M

Masayoshi woke when Gotou moved, slipping out of the bed with a silent grace he’d never seen before. Gotou was naked – cast in silhouette by the light left on over the sink – and he hesitated a moment, as if aware of Masayoshi’s eyes on him, drowsy but alert.

He yawned, back sore from sleeping upright against the wall. “Moon’s set?” Masayoshi asked, averting his eyes as Gotou dressed. “Where are you going?”

“Need a smoke.” Gotou’s voice still didn’t sound right, deeper and jagged, like he’d swallowed a handful of rocks. He didn’t look back at Masayoshi at all, his shoulders held stiff.

“I’ll come with you,” Masayoshi began to shift on the bed, but Gotou made a noise that still sounded like a growl.

“No.”

There was a second’s stunned silence from Masayoshi at the sheer viciousness of his voice – and then Gotou coughed, cleared his throat, and sounded for the first time in a while, like himself. “No. That’s not a good idea, Masayoshi.”

“Why not?” Masayoshi narrowed his eyes, drawing his legs toward himself, resting his arms on his knees. He’d just spent the night with a wolf in his lap, he didn’t see how walking outside to keep Gotou company while he smoked was a bad thing.

“Just stay there,” Gotou ordered him, and when Masayoshi began to raise his voice in protest Gotou ignored it and slammed the apartment door shut behind him.

Gotou walked around the apartment building, toward the trash collection area. He had waited on the other side of the door for a minute, to see if Masayoshi would storm after him – and when he didn’t hear that movement, walked himself the requisite number of steps away from the door and then some.

He lit his cigarette with shaking hands, and then tilted his head back and looked at the sky. It was already quite light out, pink and red-tinted along the horizon, even if the streets themselves were still dark. And, yes, the moon had set. Quite a while ago now, but he hadn’t wanted to move when he first woke, head in Masayoshi’s lap, his hand warm on his bare neck. It was comfortable in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, and that was making him strangely anxious.

There was also the fact that he came out of the transformation horny as all hell; he always did, he’d usually rut into his hand until he’d satisfied the urge, the pent-up everything that came with this curse. But today he couldn’t, not with Masayoshi right there. He could smell him still, warm and safe and comfortable, and the thought of what he’d wanted to do to him before he climbed out of the bed made the guilt twist in his belly.

(Maybe he should. Maybe it would be better if Masayoshi ran now, now that he knew what Gotou really was; before anything more could grow between them…)

Gotou inhaled angrily, and then turned and punched the brick beside him. The pain was a brief flair – his knuckle split and he almost dropped his cigarette. He stood there, breathing wildly, and thought about the fact that for the first time he’d not felt the urge to roam, how he hadn’t bothered to show the moon his face, and how remarkably unafraid Masayoshi had been, brushing his hands through Gotou’s fur slowly. He had no way of knowing what, if any of his faculties Gotou retained through the change… and yet, all the same, he trusted Gotou the same in that form as well as his human one.

Of course he did. This was Masayoshi he was thinking about, and if there was one thing that described Masayoshi to a T it was definitely ‘idiot.’

Now that he’d had at least one cigarette he felt far more human, and less like he was going to do something that they’d both regret. Gotou sighed as he tucked the pack away in his jacket pocket and said, “are you going to lurk there all morning?”

Masayoshi popped his head around the corner and peered at Gotou. “That’s a no-smoking zone,” he accused.

“I’m well aware.” Gotou put his hands in his pockets and looked over Masayoshi. “You’re still wearing the clothes you slept in.”

“I didn’t bring anything else to wear,” he said. “Did you smell me?”

Gotou sighed, a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Let’s go get breakfast,” he said, and Masayoshi straightened, expression bright. “You’re buying.”

<< Prologue ||| Chapter 2 >>

#samurai flamenco #gotoyoshi #masagoto #werewolf au 2022 #ongoing #multipart

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peakyblinderswhore · 4 years ago

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DAY 7 ⇨ WORKING FOR CHRISTMAS

GENRE: Christmas!au, WorkRival!au, the tiniest E2L

PAIRING: Tommy x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Thomas stops you from your work late one evening and tasks you with planning a Christmas due for the office -- which, truth be told, is more or less a family gathering with a few added extras. What you don’t know is he’s got a reason behind what he’s doing and after a drink or two he gets you talking and reveals his reasonings. What could possibly go wrong?

WARNINGS: Alcohol/drunkeness

W/C: 2.5k

A/N: hm. yeah. no thoughts; head empty.

You weren't sure when or how it had happened but somehow you had been forced into planning something for the holidays with the one person you knew that you despise more than anything. Thomas Shelby.

Sometimes you wondered why you were still here, working for the devil himself when you could be somewhere else, the chances of having a significant other were much higher but you had stayed, always driven to earn money to send back to your Dad back home.

Still, he paid well and occasionally he gave you the day off when he wasn’t giving you a million and one things to do around the office. You liked the work, mostly. Today, for example, you had been tasked with filing practically everything -- something that you had been banging on at Tommy to do for months so when he finally tasked you with it, you sat down and got to work, using that as an excuse to avoid talking to anyone for the rest of the day. At the end of the work day, though, he had sprung some news on you that you were less than pleased to hear.

“Here, you’ve to stay late tonight,” he had begun.

You looked up from your pile of files, only about a quarter of a way through them and thoroughly enjoying all the paperwork that you were using to avoid incompetence today, “What?” your eyebrows furrowed to express your disgust, “Why do I need to stay late, I’ve been working all day, like you pay me to.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, “I’ll pay you for this too,” he fiddles with his waistcoat, eventually pulling out his pocket watch to check the time before swinging it closed, the gold catching your eyes under the light.

“Tommy, it’s nine o’clock in the evening -- I’ve already stayed late doing exactly what I’ve been telling you we should be doing for months,” you argue, leaning back on your chair and folding your arms across your chest, most likely creasing your pinafore but it wasn’t important.

“I’ll pay you double.”

“Triple.”

“Done.”

You put your pen down and push your files aside, ready to be attended to tomorrow morning.

“So,” you begin, “what could you possibly want that requires me that much?”

“I need you to plan something for Christmas.”

“Is there an occasion other than Christmas? Like are you retiring and letting me take over… because if you are, this’ll be the goddamned place to be tomorrow night,” you gestured towards his closed office door, “I’ll break into that bottle of whiskey you refuse to open and invite everyone I know over to drink it.”

He chuckles, “Not quite.”

You raise an eyebrow and unfold your arms, leaning them on the desk in front of you, “Enlighten me, Mr Shelby.”

“Office party.”

You scoff and push yourself back on your chair, shaking your head, bemused, “Everyone who works here is related to you or owes you something, myself included. Why are you suddenly in the giving mood?”

His eyes narrow, “Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Alright.”

Silence falls between you two and you fiddle with your hands, not sure what to do. Blowing out a breath, you decide to start, “What do you want me to plan for? Everyone in the office or just family -- I will leave if you make me plan something for your family and have no intentions of inviting me to get pissed.”

Tommy smirks, “You didn’t think I’d let you spend the holidays alone, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have put it past you and your ice-cold heart.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You think that lowly of me?”

You wait a beat, “You haven’t shown me otherwise.”

He shakes his head and leaves, entering his office, which you assume is the end of your discussion. Taking this as a good sign to leave, you begin to pack up your things, accepting that you’ve exhausted yourself for the day and will pick up on it in the morning.

You’re pulling on your coat when Tommy walks back out of his office, bottle of whiskey and tumblers in hand, as he heads straight towards your desk.

You pause, the coat pulled halfway up your arms, “Uh, Thomas, what are you doing?”

“Drinking expensive whiskey with my personal assistant. And yourself?”

“I was… about to leave. I thought you were done with the conversation so I was getting ready to leave,” you reply, eyes wide and feet unmoving.

“Sit.”

“O-okay,” you sit.

Having already pulled up a chair and seated himself opposite you at the desk, he leans across the desk and tips the bottle towards you, “drink?” he offers, already pouring the liquor into your glass.

“Oh, I mean, yeah… I guess,” you allow your coat to fall down on the chair, not bothered with how it falls as you’re more concerned about whatever Tommy is planning.

“Recognise it?” He asks, moving to rummage around in his pockets, eventually pulling out a metal box that he pulls a cigarette from.

You lean across the desk, reaching for the glass and bringing it to your nose, you breathe in the smell. Of course you don’t, you’re not an avid drinker but you’d already grabbed the glass and gotten this far, you might as well play the part that you’d set up all these years at his side.

“No,” you begin, setting the glass back down on the surface, “I don’t recognise it. Should I?” You counter, sniffing your nose at him.

He lifts his lighter to his cigarette, flipping the cap and lighting it, “It’s the bottle you said I ‘refuse’ to open,” he mumbles through his actions.

Your eyes widen, “Mr Shelby, why have you opened it? Surely it can’t be because I just said so…”

He scoffs, pulling his cigarette from his lips and leaning his hand on the desk, “You know, for someone who knows most of my business you sure like to pretend like you don’t have a say in it on a more than daily basis.”

“W-what?”

“Just drink the drink.”

You nod slowly, still wary of Thomas’ intentions after his obscure actions towards you and lift the rim of the glass to your lips before tipping, letting the liquor slide down your throat, bruning on its way down. You put the glass down on the desk, That sure does taste fucking expensive,” you curse, before realising what you’d done. Quickly you slap a hand across your mouth, “Mr Shelby,” you begin, “I’m so --”

He holds a hand up, an amused smile present on his face, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure there’s worse said around here…” he studies you for a moment, “and you can call me Thomas. There’s no need for formalities over drinks this late in the evening.”

Your hand falls down to rest at the side of the glass, silence once again taking over the two of you, “So..”

Tommy lifts an eyebrow, focusing on you, “So,” he drawls.

You cough awkwardly, making a poor attempt at pretending to clear your throat, “Did you still want me to help with the Christmas Party?”

“It’s a party now, eh?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

He pauses, lips pursed and glass swirling, “Alright. As long as you come and wear something nice.”

“Like Lizzie nice or Grace nice,” you fire, knowing his… tendencies and past.

He ignores your comment, “Y/N nice.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not sure I did,” you pick up your glass again, taking a swig from it, “Thomas Shelby, the Devil himself, telling me I'm capable of wearing something nice. Well, I never.”

“Look, if you don’t want to come then you don’t have to”.

“No, no, no, I do. I really do. I’m just interested in knowing what you consider nice.”

He looks you dead in the eyes, his own blue ones piercing through you, trying to decipher what you were thinking. Blatantly ignoring his state you mumble to yourself, “How strong is this stuff?” Turning the bottle to see if it had any indication as to how tipsy you were going to be after the one drink.

Finally finding a label, you let out a low whistle, “Damn,” you mutter.

Thomas is still looking at you when you lift your gaze to meet his, “Gonna need another drink if I’m going to let you stare at me without feeling uncomfortable.”

Nonchalantly, he lifts his arm to pour you another, the glass now topped up generously, you look at him, really look at him. You let the glass meet your lips and swirl the liquor around your gums before swallowing it and continuing the conversation.

“Thomas.”

“Y/N.”

“You know why I’m here,” you gesture around the room, “working for you. Life’s shit back home. The pay’s shit wherever you turn and bills are high.”

He nods. You take another drink from the glass.

“You helped me out with my father, for which I am greatly indebted, as we all know as per my presence in this building, so I’ll help you out for the Party. I’ll wear something new; spend my wages on a decent dress and do my hair — hell I’ll even get out some jewels I’ve had hidden for a few years — but you have to tell me why you’ve kept me around for as long as you have.

“I mean, there has to be a reason, right? You used to let Lizzie pick apart every little thing I did without a word said between us. One day I had a go and the next she was quiet, fuming all the time, ears practically letting out steam and I could never figure out why she shut up all of a sudden. Until you came out of your office one day and called on me for something. If looks could kill, Thomas, I would’ve been long dead.”

Your glass has a few drops left, you’ve been drinking to stop yourself from getting anxious and fiddling with something. This way the conversation flows. He nods towards the bottle. You pour yourself a third glass.

He’s studying you, observing before he makes a judgement of any sort, trying to feel his way through the conversation without stepping on any toes — or maybe he was just figuring out which buttons to press and in what order.

“You don’t fear me,” It comes out as more of a statement than a question.

“No. You’re just a pain, occasionally,” you reply.

“Alright,” he drags on his cigarette, “you can be tedious at times too. At least that’s what Lizzie used to complain to me about. That’s all it ever was, complaints and the desire to have your job, which I told her on various occasions was not up for offer since you do it just how I want it… no, need it done.”

You stare, glass lifted to your lips but paused in its motions. “You know,” you begin before laughing ironically, “you know that I need this job more than I want it, right?”

“I do.”

You extend your arm, liquor sloshing in the glass, “If I didn’t need the --” hic “--money to pay for my Dad’s hospital bills--” hic “--then I wouldn’t have to put up with her.”

Never have you spoken about your father with such ease before. Tommy knew this was a sore spot for you and you hated the fact that he had roped you into working for his company under the guise of earning good money and being able to send most of it back to pay for your father’s necessities whilst still having enough left over to live adequately enough here. It was a sore spot between yourself and Tommy let alone when Lizzie butt into everything you did and commented on every piece of work you did.

“I didn’t want you to be thinking about all of that this year,” he mutters, mostly to himself, as he drags a hand down his face, “but I suppose you can’t have it all.”

He watched you for a moment more before deciding that if he let you go on for any longer you would more than likely share more than what you would be comfortable with when you sober up and there was also the risk of you throwing up at any point. Tommy had never seen you drink anything more than a shandy at the Garrison, let alone a glass of whiskey -- an expensive one at that.

“C’mon. I think it’s time we got you home,” he tips his own glass back, finishing it before putting it down with a thud on your desk, leaving it there to be cleaned up in the morning.

“What? No --” you cry between hiccups, “we didn’t even plan the party.”

“We can plan it on the walk back to yours. How’s that sound?” He asks, observing your furrowed eyebrows, pouty face and full cheeks.

You frown, “But you even opened the secret stuff.”

“Not a secret if you know about it,” he countered, tugging on your arm as he attempted to get you to stand up to put your coat on.

You smile, “Lizzie doesn’t know about it, does she, eh?” before muttering to yourself in what you assumed was a quieter voice but in reality Thomas heard every word that fell afterwards, “See, I’ve got something over you, Lizzie Stark… suck--” hic “-- on that.”

He chuckles, “Put your coat on, love.”

“Alright Tommy… whatever you say,” you sway from side to side as he holds your coat open, waiting for you to push your arms through the holes. When you eventually manage to, you throw a hand in the air and point towards the door and exclaim, “Onwards!” before collapsing into Tommy’s side.

“Oh fu- okay, you got this Y/N.”

Why had he let you drink so much?

You drunkenly giggle, “Tommy,” you sing-song, “let’s hire someone to play music for your party. I adore music at parties, right after I adore drinking at parties.”

“I think I saw the drinking part coming,” he waits a beat, wrapping his arms around your torso as he leans you against the wall so he can put his coat on, ready to accompany you home.

“We should decorate the office; it’s almost Christmas and I’ve been staring at grainy paper and beige walls the whole way through December. Where’s the garland? We could’ve at least gotten Johnny--” hic “--Doggs to lend a hand with it. He always was nice to me when he came visiting for you.”

Pushing yourself off of the wall you slump against Tommy, making him frantically grab you, trying to make sure you don’t fall over now that he is ready.

“Johnny is a good man.”

You mumble a response.

For the rest of the way home you ramble, Tommy agreeing and making conversation with the parts that were coherent. He found that maybe you needed to let loose like that a little more often. You found that maybe Tommy wasn’t all business and harsh looks, there was something inside of him that cared -- no matter how small and hidden away it was. Maybe another Grace is what he was afraid of but when you woke up in the morning, still dressed in your pinafore from yesterday but with a clean(ish) face and bare feet covered by the blankets, you knew there was something more to Tommy.

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heartbeatan · 4 years ago

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Devil's Garden (Chapter 1)

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Desperado Series.

Return to Taehyung Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 1

Taehyung flicked the flint wheel of his silver lighter, bringing the flame inches from his lips as he lit another cigarette. Closing the zippo with a “clink” he looked at the clock once again. He was already five minutes late, but he didn’t care.

Taking a long drag, he unfolded his notepad, reading the details he had written down when you called him yesterday. Normally, he would have researched you before the first meeting. But yesterday, he was too busy drowning himself in a flood of liquor and tits at the strip club down the street from his basement apartment. He hadn’t even bothered to shower this morning – he was sure there was probably still a ring of lipstick tacky around his cock.

“I need you to investigate my husband,” you had told him over the phone. These were his least favourite cases. Domestic disputes. Most of the time they ended up coming from some lonely housewife who spent her days primping herself for the ungrateful, cheating bastard she married because he had money. That’s what he suspected anyways. That’s why he didn’t bother to put on his best face for you. Why he didn’t care that his suit was the one he wore yesterday, or that he didn’t do his research before he got there.

When he was done, he considered lighting another. He even considered driving away – it’s not like he wanted the job anyway. The problem was, he needed it. He needed to pay the bills. With that in mind, he sighed a “let’s get this over with” and pulled himself from the car, dropping the butt onto the ground before he made his way up the stoney path towards the visitor’s entrance.

“Welcome to Devil’s Garden,” a bright, young woman greeted him as he passed across the threshold and into the cool, air-conditioned building. It was a relief to feel the dehumidified air in the middle of the long, hot summer. The air-conditioning in his car had died years ago, and his apartment never had it, so moments like these always felt like a luxury occasion. His eyes scanned the multitude of wine bottles perched upon the wood palette wall behind the hostess. Perhaps, after business was taken care of, he’d stay for a while - bask in the air-conditioning and try a bottle… or three.

“Are you here for the tour? A tasting?” the hostess asked him after a long pause.

“Uhh… no… I’m here to meet someone,” he replied, unable to recall your name from memory.

“Oh?” her eyes widened as she waited for him to continue.

“Umm…” Taehyung flipped through his notepad and began searching for the page with your details. He could feel the eyes of the hostess on him and the unease she emitted as she tried to piece together what he was even doing here. Relieved, he found the page, confirming it was the right one by the address to ‘The Devils Garden Winery’ which he had messily scribbled across it in red ink. “…I’m here to see a Miss Y/N…”

“Mr. Kim?” he was cut off by the sound of someone calling his name. He looked confused back up to the hostess but noticed her gaze had been diverted to something behind him – to the place where the voice came from. He followed where her eyes led, twisting away from the counter to gaze down the corridor until his eyes landed onto the figure walking towards him. A woman was approaching them.

No.

A beautiful woman was approaching him. He had seen his fair share of attractive women in his life, but it had been long since he had seen a woman stunning enough to stun him.

It wasn’t anything in particular about her that had his breath catching in his throat. Perhaps it was a little bit of everything. Perhaps it was the simple, light, white, strappy cotton dress that hung softly over her hips and teased a glimpse of her breasts; or maybe it was the red rubber working boots she paired with it. Perhaps it was the way her skin glistened, slightly dampened in sweat - or the way her hair, once probably perfectly in place but now wind swept – all indicators that she had been working hard outdoors that morning. Or perhaps it was the way she sashayed down the hall; the brightness in her eyes; her aura and confidence that radiated through the room. Whatever it was about her, it spoke to Taehyung – or at least, it spoke to the now attentive friend he had in his pants.

“Are you Mr. Kim?” the woman spoke again, smiling at him as she stuck out her hand. He looked down at her gesture has he reached out to take her hand but couldn’t stop his eyes from flitting the rest of the way down her body. Just a quick unnoticeable glance, but he felt himself internally stumble in embarrassment. For some reason – for some reason this time - he didn’t want this woman to know. Didn’t want her to know what a jackass he was, or what a pervert he could be.

“I am,” he replied as he shook her hand. Her smile widened once he confirmed it.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, pleased you hadn’t been mistaken. “We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

“Right,” he came back to Earth as he remembered the reason why he was actually there… because you were his client… because you thought your husband was up to something… because you had a husband. “Please, call me Taehyung. I hate Mr. Kim.”

You opened your mouth to apologize, but just as you did your empty stomach let out an embarrassingly loud protest. You quickly clutched your midriff in your hands – as if it would suppress the sound – but Taehyung heard it loud and clear. The corner of his mouth twitched as he amusedly watched your eyes widen in a little bit of surprise and a little bit of embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” you near laughed. “I’ve been so busy today I don’t think I remembered to eat.”

“It’s fine,” he said, but then mentally kicked himself for not saying something suave.

“Have you eaten? Do you mind if we do this over lunch?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“Great,” you smiled brightly, and Taehyung felt his heart pound at the sight. “Follow me.”

You turned away and strutted passed the hostess’s counter into the room behind her. Taehyung once again couldn’t stop himself as his gaze darted down the length of your figure as you walked away from him. He took notice of how the fabric swayed over the curve of your ass. How the muscles of your thighs flexed with each step you took. He thought then of how those thighs would flex beneath his palms when he fucked you.

He kinked his neck as he tried to shake the image from his mind while he stepped forward to follow you. Before out of sight, however, he caught the gaze of the hostess still watching him, and for a paranoid second, he wondered if she could hear his depraved thoughts.

As he followed you into what was now obviously the dining area of the establishment, he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt - tucking and straightening the tails into his pants. Even though minutes ago he couldn’t have cared less about how he looked or smelled, he was now painfully self-conscious about both.

Despite the dining room being entirely empty, you led him across the room to a table resting in the far corner away from the bathrooms, exits or any foot traffic. It was obvious to Taehyung that you wanted your conversation to be kept private – but not private enough that it would warrant any suspicion from the staff at the winery. As you sat down across from him, he took immediate note of how your demeanor shifted. You were nervous. Uncomfortable. But still trying hard to save face – to pretend as if everything was okay, even in front of him – the man you hired to suss out your dirty secrets.

“Let’s just jump into it,” he said, taking pity on you when he couldn’t stomach your anxious fidgeting anymore.

“Sure,” you nodded as you swallowed back your trepidation.

“You said you needed me to investigate your husband,” he began as he pulled out his notepad again, flipping to a clean page.

“Yes.”

“What is it you suspect him of?”

You audibly sighed. “I’m not sure, exactly.”

Taehyung’s forehead creased in confusion, but your statement had his private investigators interest peaked. He looked back up to your face, studying it as if it would be able to give him an answer. But all you were doing at the moment was gnawing unconsciously on your lower lip. Once again, he became lost in his shameless thoughts.

Those lips.

They looked so soft. So sweet. He’d bet they’d look even sweeter wrapped around his cock. The way you bit them now was probably the same way you’d bite on them just before you’d come.

Fuck, man, he mentally scolded himself.

“Thing is…” you began, and Taehyung was relieved he had something else to focus on. “… he’s definitely up to something. I just don’t know what.”

“What makes you think he’s up to something?”

“He’s been coming home late from work. But then, sometimes when I call his work, he isn’t there. He started taking phone calls out of the room so I can’t hear – saying it’s just work.”

“Does he work here?”

“No. This is my place. He works for a construction company. Ummm… Stintsons it’s called.”

His ears perked at the name. Stintsons. He underlined it twice in his notepad, being sure to comeback to it later.

“He installs glass,” you continued. “Which is why I find it so strange that he needs to take secret phone calls. It’s not as if he is a manager or anything. He just… installs glass.”

“Has he always been like that? Taking secret calls?”

“No,” you replied slowly.

“You don’t sound so positive,” he prodded, picking up on your unsureness.

“Well… we haven’t been married that long. So, maybe he has always been like this.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Two years this fall.”

“And did you date long before then?”

A wave of… something… washed across your face. Taehyung wasn’t really sure what it was, but there was something.

“Not very long. Just a few months.”

He nodded. He figured you must’ve felt shame or embarrassment over your short marriage and even shorter courtship which you were now scrutinizing. If only he had the balls to tell you about himself, you’d know shame and embarrassment was not something you needed to feel in front of him. Instead of doing that, he moved along.

“Before I forget to ask. What’s his name?”

“Ezra,” you said. “Ezra Moon.” Taehyung flipped back a page on his notepad, writing your husbands name below where he had written yours. That’s when he noticed…

“You didn’t take your husband’s last name?”

“No.”

“This is your maiden name then?”

“No, actually. It’s my first husband’s last name.”

Taehyung looked back up from the paper. To some – to you – it appeared to be an act of bemusement. Sure, it was strange to keep your first husband’s name when you were on your second marriage – but bemused was not what Taehyung felt. Instead, he felt a pang of unwarranted, unearned jealousy. At least two lucky bastards on this god-damned planet got the chance to fuck you. Every night, every morning, every surprise afternoon they could afford – and now he knew that.

“How did your first marriage end?” he continued.

“Is that relevant?”

He shrugged. “It could be.” It was true. That information could be relevant, but more so, he had a sadistic need to know. What happened that your first husband couldn’t hold on to a woman like you? He needed to know, even if the information could never serve him.

“He died,” you replied. “A mugging gone wrong. He was shot. About, 3… 4 years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Changing my name was so complicated the first time, I just haven’t gotten around to doing it this time.”

Taehyung nodded and continued writing down the details and you began to fidget nervously again. He didn’t like that he made you nervous. He didn’t like to see you uncomfortable – but this was his job. This is what you hired him for. Luck would have it, however, the chef arrived to bring you both a plate of quesadillas and salad – and he welcomed the opportunity to take a break and reset the conversation.

After a brief stint of awkwardly discussing the food, which led to a less awkward conversation about the best dive restaurants in the city, you were feeling relaxed again and Taehyung was ready to pry once more. Perhaps this time he’d be more friendly, more slick as he dug into your life and marriage.

“So,” he began, his tenor casual and warm. “This is your place you said?”

“Mm hm,” you nodded through a mouthful of food. “All mine.”

“Good for you. I hear it can be a tough market.”

“It has it’s ups and downs, but, we’re still here.”

“So, Ezra’s name isn’t on the property at all?”

“You think this might be a money thing?” you asked, picking up on the fact that the interrogation had resumed.

“I don’t know… could be. Maybe he’s a serial gambler.”

“Or maybe he’s just cheating on me,” you sighed.

“Impossible,” Taehyung said it before he could remember not too.

“Sorry?”

“I said it’s possible,” he attempted to cover his slip, and by the look on your face, it worked. By any sound, rational mind, it was totally possible that your husband was having an affair. But from where Taehyung sat, it was impossible. The man would have to be a complete imbecile to risk not being able to wake up every morning next to the goddess that sat across from him at this very moment. “Has he ever come home needing to take a shower right away, or hiding his clothes?”

You thought for a moment before you replied with a “no.”

“Does he have access to any of the wealth here?”

“Well… not really. Firstly, there’s not much wealth here to begin with. But even if there was, Ezra and I signed a prenuptial, so the place is mine no matter what.”

“Have you notice anything strange with the books? Small sums of cash not adding up?”

“Hmm, no, but… I can take a closer look. Just to be sure.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to look at them together.”

For a moment, your eyes flitted up to meet Taehyung’s. It was only a moment, but it was long enough for him to see. You were… apprehensive… about him being around you. About being alone in a tiny room with him. And that moment caused his chest to tighten. Did he scare you? Were you already so repulsed by him that being around him was unthinkable? God dammit, why didn’t he at least wear a clean suit this morning? But that moment passed, and with a reassuring smile, that he knew was fake, you agreed.

“Great. When do you have time?”

“Tomorrow?” you suggested.

“I’ll be here.”

Despite his earlier consideration of hanging around the vineyard and getting drunk on ‘The Devil’s Garden’ wines, Taehyung left immediately after the meeting. With the gift box you hand given him filled with your most popular red, he returned to his apartment in the city, being sure to pick up his near abandoned clothes from the dry cleaners on the way. He spent the rest of the afternoon seated at his coffee table in front of his computer, searching every database, web article and social media site he could find on Ezra Moon, The Devil’s Garden, and you.

When the sky darkened, and his back and legs were sore from his non-ergonomic set up, he rose from his place on the floor, strutting into the kitchen to pop a bowl of instant noodles into the microwave. As he waited for the timer to count down, he rested against the counter, surveying his dish filled sink and the cluttered space that was barely large enough to even be considered a counter. That’s when he saw the wine you had given him.

“It’s Better than Sex,” you had said.

“Excuse me?” he near choked when he heard the word “sex” slip from your tongue.

You chuckled playfully with just a hint of wickedness at his reaction. “That’s what this wine is called. Better than Sex.”

The microwave beeped, knocking him back from the memory.

Bringing with him a glass and the wine, he returned to the living space, flopping into his only chair and clicking on the TV.

When his food was finished, as was his first glass, he picked the bottle up in his hand, twisting it around to admire the label.

“Better than Sex,” he read out loud. “I don’t know about that.” He brought the bottle to his lips anyway, just to be sure. It was good… but not that good.

He looked at the clock.

It was still early enough. He still had time to hit the club or a bar. He could polish off this bottle easily. Get just tipsy enough before he headed out down the street. Maybe he’d see that girl again – the one who sucked him off in the bathroom last night. She was good if he remembered right. Good enough anyway to test the theory that wine could be better than sex.

Maybe if he went out tonight, he could pace himself… not drink too much or stay out too late. He considered it. Rationalized how he could still find himself a good whiskey and a good fuck before needing to wake up the next morning and be a good detective. But in the end, he knew himself better than that. In the end, tonight, he didn’t want to.

So, instead, he looked back down to the wine bottle still in his hand. With a final swig, he corked it and set it back on the table. He then shuffled himself comfortably back in his chair and pulled at the drawstrings of his sweatpants, loosening the waist enough so that he could slide his hand beneath the fabric.

He was already partially erect at the mere thought of what he was about to do, and at the thought of who he was going to do it to. Taking his cock in his fist, he began stroking himself languidly, hardening himself just a little more.

He bet that’s how you would do it - if it was your fist and not his jerking him off right now. You’d start slow. You’d tease him first. Watch him as you hardened him. And he’d watch you back – watch you bite that lip of yours again – and he’d get excited all over again, knowing that soon that mouth would replace your delicate hands around him.

“Mmmm,” Taehyung groaned as he envisioned it all happening.

The fantasy quickly escalated. No sooner than you were jerking him off to then sucking him dry, he had you bent over the hostess’s counter at The Devil’s Garden. Your pretty white skirt pulled up over your waist, and your tits spilling out of your unkempt bra as you clung for life over the granite countertop while he fucked you from behind.

Taehyung, still in his chair, flung his free arm over his eyes, his busy arm beginning to ache as his hips thrusted into his now rapidly pumping hand. He sucked the air in through his teeth, exhaling each time with a groan and a whine. His body began to spasm as he felt his high nearing.

“Taehyung,” you would cry out his name. It would be a cry that said you couldn’t handle the pleasure he was giving you, while at the same time, a cry to beg him not to stop. The room would be filled with the clapping sounds of his balls hitting your reddened ass, and the wetness of his cock roughly slipping itself in and out of your soaked pussy.

“Oh! Oh!” you’d begin to pant as you found yourself on the brink of coming – and when you did finally come, he would feel the delectable sensation of your walls spastically closing in around him. Then he’d come. He’d look down to the place where your bodies met. He could see the ribbons of his semen, hot and tacky over the shaft of his cock, as he plunged in and out of you… still fucking into you for good measure as he drained everything he had into you.

“Oh, fuck!” he called out into the apartment as he felt the heat and wetness drip over his hand, as his body quaked and shivered as the fantasy ended and he saw the stars.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #v smut #taehyung x reader #v x y/n

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twooneztaylorthecat · 3 years ago

Text

Wishful Thinking- Adam Stanheight/Reader

A/N, okay like a warning. I write on my computer so this is gonna be a long one. IDK if that's what tumblr's for but... this is for anyone who wants it.

You hadn't slept in days. It had been rough with the loss of someone so close to you and you often had to think back to a time when life wasn't so hard. It was difficult, seeing as you had lost two precious people right after the other. The thing was, you couldn't seem to remember who it was you had lost. Could it have been your mother? Could it have been your father? Or was it a distant relative? A second cousin? A third cousin? Maybe an aunt or an uncle? In any case, the fact still remained, you couldn't recall who had passed away. It was almost like, you chose not to remember.

But why would someone like you want to forget the people who had passed? Wouldn't they be special to you? Didn't you have a relationship of some kind with the deceased? It shouldn't be so blurry. This was... nonsense! You weren't that heartless of a person. At least, you hoped you weren't... And you certainly didn't srive to be. But it didn't matter anymore. You were home, a pie was baking in the oven, and your significant other was working in his darkroom.

You had moved in with your boyfriend six months ago. He was nice, but... he had anxiety issues. Not like it was easy to recover from one of Jigsaw's games, but... it was a work in progress. His therapist said he was doing well. You sat down on the couch, the smell of cigarette smoke filled your nose. It was a relaxing scent; it made you think of HIM: Adam Faulkner Stanheight.

Speaking of which, out of nowhere Adam appeared around the corner. He was setting up some pictures in his darkroom. It was nearly eleven thirty, but you didn't mind, you liked staying up with Adam. Although, he had kept you out of the room this time, claiming that he was going to surprise you with this new set of photos. You were suspicious. Not that you didn't trust Adam, but... mostly, you were concerned about what embarrassing pictures Adam had taken of you behind your back. You weren't looking forward to finding out.

You gestured to the spot next to you all the same. It would take some time for the pictures to develop anyway, and Adam wasn't about to ruin the surprise. He had a grim look on his face. It worried you. "Is everything okay?"

Adam sat down next to you, and stared at the coffee table dully. His eyes were dark, and unseeing. After a long couple minutes, in which you started to wring your hands, he spoke at last. His words were slow and thoughtful, and his voice was hollow, but you could detect some kind of worry in it. "I just realized one day, you're gonna be gone. Then what will I do? Once you leave me and never come back, I don't think I'll be the same again."

You looked at Adam in alarm. What did he think was going to happen to you? You were completely fine and well. "Adam," you said soothingly, patting him on the shoulder. "Why are you worrying about that right now? I'm not going anywhere for a long time. I promise." You turned his head towards you, and he looked at you desolately. You leaned over and kissed him on the lips. You hadn't been expecting such a vehement reaction from Adam. Apparently he was eager to continue.

He lifted you from the couch and put you on his lap, never once removing his lips from yours. You started to smile at his affection, but Adam gave you no breathing time; he wanted more of you. So, you obliged.

Pushing him up against the couch, you kissed him harder, deeper, fiercer. You felt Adam sink into the couch willingly, tilting his head upwards in order to give you a better angle. You combed your fingers through his hair, tempting him to relax entirely.

There was no rush.

Everything was going to be fine.

You were right here.

Adam had his hands up your shirt in a matter of seconds, traveling up and down your body. You leaned into him, feeling him speed up the kiss. Your heartbeat was hammering, your cheeks were burning, and your head felt light. You loved the way Adam made you feel. But before anything could start, you pulled away. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you more," Adam said softly and you chuckled.

"Undoubtedly," you agreed.

The oven blared loudly from behind you, and you stood up. "Hang on, baby. I don't want to burn the apartment down. Besides don't you want to try the blackberry pie?"

Adam gazed at the oven distantly. Fear flashed across his face, but it was gone so quickly you had a hard time believing what you saw. "Are you okay if I leave to go get the pie?"

The oven beeped again.

Adam didn't look at her. He leaned forward. "Don't go," he whispered to himself over and over. "Don't go, don't go, don't go..."

"I'm just getting out the pie, Adam. Where do you think I'm gonna go?"

Adam looked at her, a realization seemed to have sunk in. He seemed calm now, but dispirited. "Y-Yeah," he stammered slowly. "I guess I can't keep you here forever. I... hate this part... I wish... Oh, never mind I'm not gonna say that. You'll see for yourself any moment now."

Adam's words disconcerted you to an exceedingly far amount. You threw him a fearful glance. "Uh, what?"

"No, don't worry about it." Adam smiled. "Come on, I'll go with you." He brushed past you hastily, and began to open the oven.

Hesitantly, you turned around and stared after him. He was setting the pie on the stove now, allowing it to cool, but something didn't seem right. You now had less motivation to walk over and help him. You wouldn't have, if it wasn't for the smile he shot you. Surely, Adam was just being anxious. You approached him, your feet feeling heavy like stones.

As you neared the kitchen you could see the look in Adam's eyes. There was sadness, and a little bit of reluctance, but he didn't stop you from going. Finally, as your feet reached the tile of the kitchen floor, there was a wave of blurriness and you collapsed onto the ground.

You awoke with a raging headache, wet eyes, and a dry throat. You coughed a couple times and then raised your head. You found yourself in a busy bar. The lights were blinding you in streaks and the music blasted your eardrums. You gazed around dazedly, shuddering at the ache in your neck. It had formed from sleeping over the counter for so long. There was a glass of something next to you. It appeared to contain some alcoholic beverage, but you couldn't remember what it was you ordered.

You felt alone suddenly. Coldness seeped into your body, as the harsh reality sunk in. You turned around, not wanting to believe it, and called for Adam, but you were alone. Utterly and miserably alone. And then you remembered.

It came back in a flash so overwhelming you nearly fell off the bar stool. Your boyfriend hadn't survived Jigsaw's game. Your heart was ripped in half as you realized this. You almost couldn't move, and you burst into tears. You had been dating him for a year and a half, your lives had been going smoothly, and then John Kramer took him from you. You screamed and ignored the people who looked at you, that wasn't really something you were concerned about right now.

Halfheartedly, you began to trudge over to the door. You needed to get home, and clean up. There was something you hadn't done yet. You had been too scared to do it at first, but now you felt brave enough. Though your dream had mostly been wishful thinking, there was something true behind it. The darkroom had been left unattended for a while now, and Adam had been working on something for you on the day he had died. It seemed that your dream had given you a revelation.

Through a haze, you drove back to Adam's apartment. After his death, you didn't move out. You wanted to stay in the apartment because it was the last thing you had of him. That and the rest of his belongings. You couldn't leave this place, the thought gave you extreme anxiety. You bundled yourself into the apartment, and looked around the room.

Instantly, you had flashbacks to your dream. You glanced at the couch, and your heart felt heavy. You could feel Adam's hands on your body, and feel his lips on your mouth. The smoke had long ago been filtered out, but you could still smell and taste the dry flavor. You swallowed, and looked back in the kitchen. There was no pie baking there now, it hurt you too much to acknowledge this.

You lightly crossed the wooden floor and glided over to the darkroom. It had been three months since you had gone in there.

Three months since you had talked to Adam.

Three months since you had been WITH Adam.

Three months since the DEATH of Adam.

You gasped as you put your hand on the cold and dusty doorknob. The door creaked sorrowfully, as it pitifully gave in to your demands. It was dark inside, which was ironic, seeing as the purpose of the room was to be lit up. And the name made it funny, it was a 'darkroom' after all.

Unenthusiastically, you stepped inside. Your hand trailed the wall, like it had done many times before, and flicked on the red lights above. They came on with a light buzz, they were older than you had expected them to be. Had Adam even changed them while he was still alive? You let your eyes fall upon the photos that were all strung up in a row. They had developed nicely, it seemed.

You plucked one off the line and held it up to the light. It was a picture of you, in all your glory. You were in your best outfit, sitting in a patch of sunlight on the couch. The setting sun captured your face and darkened everything else, highlighting only your face. The rest was in dim shadow, so you could still see it but nothing was drawing attention to it.

The other pictures were similar but not the same. The majority was of you, but there were still a good number that were of you and him together. They were taking from interesting angles, with different lighting. Sometimes he was posing and other times you were posing. You couldn't help biting your quivering lip. This was all too much! Why hadn't Adam been here to see your reaction? Why hadn't he given them to you from the beginning? Why hadn't you looked at these before now? Why, why, why, why?

Sadness tugged at your heart and you sat down on your knees, clutching the photographs to your chest. You wouldn't be giving these up. They were too precious for you. You couldn't think properly; your mind felt like it had lost all of its abilities. The only thing you knew how to do was cry. You missed him. You missed him so much. The world was lifeless and hopeless, nothing would ever be the same. All you wished was to be back in that moment within your dream, outside was too gruesome. But alas you could not go back to then, and you were trapped in this miserable hellhole. You wondered why your life was so unfortunate. What had you done to deserve this?

In your fit of sobs and whimpers, you lost yourself to the grief. A long time passed after that, and you spent it all on the floor, but as the light peaked over the horizon and spilled through the living room window, your crying was put to a stop, and you yourself were dragged down by something stronger, and certainly much more necessary; slumber held you close and refused to let you go but something more was there, hidden under the photos that were pressed firmly to your bosom. There was something familiar about the warmth though, almost like it was Adam's loving embrace. It wreathed around you, and in the darkness it soothed you into a fitful burrow of sleep from which you did not know if you would even awaken.

#adam faulkner stanheight #saw movies #jigsaw #reader #reader insert #writing #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #romantic #love #long reads #i'm obsessed

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