#and the reason it took a shit turn is bc the focus fell off her and onto arima

[catshavefeelings]

My most controversial take is that oshi no ko sucks after the first 10 chapters and its desperately trying to fill the hole that act age left. And the only reason it's succeeding is bc act age isn't there to compete with it

[bloodycassian]

Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)

AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!

TW -blood/ blades.  

Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture.  The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong.  "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike.  He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you.  Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane.  + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell.  "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him.  Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose."  Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it.  "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain.  + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up.  Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway.  "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there.  Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady.  "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day."  Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect."  "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other.  Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it.  "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him.  Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel.  He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother.  Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine.  "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him.  Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again.  The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been. 

"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.

  Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you.  He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you. 

"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.

Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place.  "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond. 

But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence. 

[filterjeons]

private show | jjk

✦ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

✦ summary: throughout your relationship, you never thought jungkook would ask a certain type of action from you. however, you take it into consideration...without the intention of him nearly catching you

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut

✦ word count: 7.4k

✦ warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, tsundere!reader, rough & unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!), dirty talk, degradation bc im a whore for that, masterbation, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial

Honestly, you didn’t know what you did in your past life to earn a man like Jungkook but you weren’t complaining one bit anyways. By just one look at you, people assumed you weren’t the type to have a boyfriend and you would spend the rest of your life alone. Luckily, you managed to prove them all wrong by being with someone who loved you for the way you were instead of your money. 

It was a blessing and a curse to be born into a rich family of doctors who expected you to be the heir of the family hospital. Despite having your future already planned for you, you fell in love with playing the violin after being introduced to it when you were young. The feeling of holding the violin against your jaw as the bow ran across the strings to produce a classical melody that you’ve familiarized yourself with throughout the years. 

You would much rather be at a violin recital in a beautiful dress playing one of Bach’s sonatas than being cooped up in your room studying biology. However, your parents didn’t feel the same way. 

When you were about 6, you ranked second at a competition against tons of kids who were in their later-preteens but that wasn’t enough to prove to your parents how much you loved music. They took it as a sign of failure because “it’s not being first” and always used that argument against you to emphasize on how you have to be at the top of your class. 

“Mommy! Guess what, I got second place! Second out of a bunch of bigger kids! I didn’t expect-” you squealed, kicking the back of the limo’s glass partition. Instead of candy, you were buzzing with excitement due to how well you placed in your county’s music recital. But what you didn’t know was that even a place close to first was never enough. “Why didn’t you get first?” 

As those words ran through your ears, you felt your blood run cold and the eyes that were dancing of excitement and joy started to dull. You clutched your certificate tightly, tears starting to swell up. 

“That’s because there was a sixth grader who was better than me and she was really good, she can play the piano-” “You see, if you can’t get first then you shouldn’t pursue a career in music. It’s too hard and competitive for you anyways. How about you focus on your studies, especially since you’re going to take over the hospital when you’re older.” 

Up until last year which was your freshman year of college, you obeyed them by devoting your time to studying and only treating music as just a hobby while you hide your feelings along the way. Now that you think about it, you barely had friends during high school since every break period, you were always alone in the music room and you were too stubborn to go up to people. The only reason why you would talk to someone is to work on a group project but it ended up being that you would do all of the work while they slack off. 

Everyday felt dull and uninteresting, especially since you’re being put in a fate that you don’t even want. But like some stupid cliche, it all changed ever since you met him. 

You didn’t even intend to meet him, hell you barely knew he existed. But the night of your chemistry midterm, the apartment next to you decided to have a party which most of the school is invited to and blast loud music that could be heard from the next town over. 

It couldn’t get any worse as you were already stressed from college and your parent’s crazy expectations and you were definitely not failing otherwise you’re dead meat. Normally, you would just try to sleep it out with earplugs but since you barely ate anything but coffee and granola bars and you were tired from the 24 hour studying, that was your last straw. So you did the thing a person would do in your situation: marching over to the party in your purple star-printed nightgown to give them a piece of your mind. 

Already at the door, you could feel people’s stares burn into you, due to why you came to the party when you didn’t bother interacting with people and why you were in your pajamas. Maybe people were going to talk about you on Instagram but you didn’t care, you just wanted to ensure that you have enough sleep so you could at least pass. 

Unfortunately for you, you must’ve looked extremely stupid because you were wandering around the same area like a drunk man. Random people did offer to get you a drink but you declined; after all it was a school night. Eventually you gave up trying to even bother talking after seeing the host, local frat boy Jackson Wang, surrounded by the rest of the partygoers in a beer pong game. 

Frustrated and exhausted, you hauled yourself up to a seemingly empty room and collapsed onto the bed. Not only did you enter a college party in your pajamas but you wasted precious time studying over something idiotic like this. With all of these negative emotions inside of you, screaming inside a pillow was the first thing that came into your mind. And unfortunately, someone had to be the witness of your near mental breakdown. 

“Woah, is everything okay?” a velvety voice chuckled, patting your back slightly. Well, another reason why your night is absolute shit. You turned your face up to chew off the mysterious person but for some reason, your voice was all caught up in your throat. 

He was different, different from all of the boys that ever interacted with you. Despite you being a complete loner, the guys in your high school tried to hook up with you but you were never interested. They stunk of axe and the only reason why they’re “popular” is because they were on a sports team. Besides, you were too busy in your academics to even think about dating. 

You couldn’t really see him but the guy who’s in the room with you looks better than every single guy in your high school combined: his long dark hair in a mini-ponytail contrasting with his cute bunny-like face. 

“Wh-who are you?” “Jeon Jungkook. I’m a member of the boxing team and my family owns a records shop downtown. What about you?” 

“I-i-” “Aren’t you Y/N, the smart girl who doesn’t talk to anybody and spends her time either studying or in the music room with her violin?” Thank god the room is dark because your face was burning up badly. Barely anyone knew you and if they did, they had bad things to say about you because you were so quiet and boring. However, what he said was a fact and you shouldn’t blame him for having an impression on you due to what other people said. It hurted nonetheless though, especially since he was a part of a sports team. 

“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want? If it’s homework answers, then fine!” you snapped, immediately standing up and walking away. You were absolutely done with this night, all you wanted to do is sleep so you have some sanity tomorrow. 

“You sure are feisty. It’s cute,” he said with a cocky grin stuck on his face. Oh, how you wanted to slap it off. 

“If you’re asking me out, I’m not interested!” you fought back. Although you were one step out of the door, something about him made you want to stay. Like you wanted to talk to him. 

“I didn’t say anything about that but if you want it that way-”

“No! I-I’m sorry for acting all rude, I’m just having a really bad night and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone,” you mumbled, turning on the light. Oh how it was a bad idea..

Now that you could really see his face clearly, your heart felt like it was about to explode. He was dressed in a simple all-black T-shirt and jeans with combat boots to match. What really captivated you were the tattoos on his hand and up to his elbow, each symbol and design etched out beautifully which must’ve taken hours. 

Although you were at least wearing clothes, you felt exposed due to the stupid pajamas you have on. He somehow sensed your embarrassment and gave you a small smirk which made it ten times worse. 

“Well, do you want to explain why you were screaming in a pillow earlier?” Normal you definitely wouldn’t spill her feelings to a hot guy she just met five minutes ago but with him, you felt safe. Like for one night, all your worries and feelings are immediately gone and it’s just you and him. 

Was this the stupid shit they call “love at first sight”? 

“My midterm is tomorrow and I can’t sleep from all of the noise so I came here to yell at the host of the party. Jackson Wang, fuck you and your decision to host a party today,” you sighed, settling yourself next to him. You would expect him to immediately laugh and make fun of you since it was something a lot of people did to you whenever you cared about your grades. Instead, he looked at you with understandment and listened to what you had to say. 

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I went to this stupid party in the first place,” he replied, making you snort out a laugh. As you were trying to collect yourself from his statement, Jungkook’s mouth turned up into a small smile. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that. Anyways, I guess I should get going since I have a big day ahead of me,” you smiled, feeling a small weight being lifted off of your shoulders. As you trudge out the door, Jungkook’s arm stops yours for a second. 

“Do you think I can have your phone number? Not for dating but you sound like a really cool person to be around and no offense but you seem lonely.” “Thanks for the compliment. But here you go,” you said sarcastically, scribbling down your phone number on a random piece of stationary in the drawer next to the bed. Maybe this is all a fever dream, maybe you’re hallucinating due to how little sleep you’ve gotten during midterm week. 

“I’ll see you soon…” he waved you goodbye as you gave a final look at the door. He was interesting but now isn’t the time to be distracted! You’re pretty sure that if you pinch yourself, you’ll be back in your dorm since this is just a dream? “Also, d-don’t take it the wrong way! It’s not like I like you or anything! I just wrote down my number because you asked nicely! We’re never going to date!” Not only did you pass your midterm but your last line to Jungkook in the stuffy college party would become your famous last words. 

It’s been years since you and Jungkook met at that party and a lot has changed then. You started to grow feelings and date him a few weeks after your midterm, eventually making the relationship official in a month. After a few months into dating, he introduced his parents to you first. They were a sweet family with amazing home cooked meals which you were dying to recreate and luckily, they accepted you with open arms. 

However, him meeting your parents wasn’t that smooth. Now that you look back on that day, not only were you permanently deciding to be with the one that you love but it also felt like you were breaking free out of the shell that your parents trapped you in because you didn’t want to go down the path they set for you. 

You shook your head to yourself, not wanting to be reminded of the painful past. Now, you were a violinist playing in recitals and companies and Jungkook was running his parent’s record shop. You were happy and you didn’t care about what your stupid parents think. They can simply ask someone else to run the hospital and it’ll still be fine. 

As soon as the practice track ended, you turned off the metronome and packed your violin away. The apartment that you and Jungkook shared was average-sized, a notable difference from the mansion you used to live in but it was better. You were with the person you love and that’s all you could ever need. It may sound corny but a simple life with him was all you ever wanted. 

After you pack away your violin, you impatiently wait alongside the door for Jungkook to get home. Right now, he has boxing practice for a match next week and he wanted to stay with his teammate Taehyung to be the best that he can but he’s stopping by for a day. You’re not into boxing but like the good girlfriend you were, you attend most of his matches (some conflicted with your performances) and cheer him on. 

Although you miss having him by your side, you’re also aware of how much boxing means to him as it was a break from the hectic life of owning a music store. Another positive in your new life was the amount of music there was, a good break from the science and math that filled your childhood. 

You heard some jiggling among the door locks and surely enough, Jungkook’s handsome face was in your view. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and some blue jeans, a very simple outfit after spending most of his time at the boxing gym. 

“Hey baby,” he cooed, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead. 

“Hi. I’m so happy you’re back, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me,” you joked, carrying his boxing bag to your shared bedroom with him tagging behind. 

“You know I would never forget about you,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. Instead of wriggling away like you normally do, you allow yourself to relish in his affection since he wasn’t a person who did it often. 

“I missed you..” you mumbled, turning around and kissing him. He returned the kiss more passionately, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The sudden action made you forget about everything, focusing only on him. Unfortunately, with your senses locked on him, it caused you to fall onto the bed, your head nearly hanging off of the edge. Jungkook used your weakness to have more control over the kiss and you, carefully grabbing the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Even though he always controls kissing you, his lips are also full of love and longing due to him being gone for too long. 

“God I missed this,” he mumbled, breaking away to remove the buttons of your blouse and kissing the side of your neck. You whined from his touch, feeling a bit embarrassed due to how much time it’s been since the two of you were together. 

“What is it baby girl, are you nervous? Come on, we’ve known each other for years and I know you can take anything I give you.” It was true of course but for some reason, it felt like the first time you had sex with him. 

After your shirt has been taken off, you unconsciously cover your chest with your arms. You didn’t know why you’re acting so self-conscious, especially since you’ve been a challenger to him in bed. 

“Hey, are you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to-” Jungkook asked softly, reaching over to take your hand. 

What’s there to be nervous about? It’s just Jungkook and like he said, you’ve known him for too long. Besides, don’t you have too much pride to act this way? You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked back at him with a seductive smile. 

“You were taking too long to take off my shirt. How boring,” you said coyly, tapping his nose playfully. He returned your gaze, his eyes darkened with lust and desire. 

“Well then baby girl, how about you take off the rest of your clothes since you seem like you want to do it,” he muttered, sitting up with his attention completely on your chest. One thing you were infamous in your relationship for is being a brat, a mix of you being submissive but not backing down completely. Even though you liked being a good girl sometimes, the rest is just you on the receiving end. After all, you won’t back down to a challenge, nonetheless if your challenger’s your significant other. 

If a person only based off of what they saw, they would think that you were the one taking absolute control due to the aura you give off and your harsh personality. However, at least between you and him since you were one to keep your private life a secret, he is the one with the reins and you were completely fine with it. 

You unclipped your bra, throwing it at some random place in the room and revealed your exposed breasts. He ogled at your body up and down, his familiar lustful gaze running through his eyes. 

“Hey, what are you staring at?” you barked, slowly starting to feel awkward. Unlike you, Jungkook had no shame when it came to your bedroom activities and there were times when he would just stare at you while you’re completely bare. How embarrassing...but it’s no big deal. 

“Watch your mouth you little brat. Do I have to punish you on my day back?” he said darkly, his tone immediately making the back of your hairs stand up. Your face softened, heat forming in your cheeks as you twirled a random piece of your hair, a random habit that you’ve done since elementary school.

“I-I’m sorry.” “Sorry what, baby girl? You’re smarter than that.” “Sorry..sir.” After that word was uttered in your soft and obedient tone, Jungkook could feel his dick growing harder by the second. Hearing you give up all of your confidence and letting him control you never failed to turn him on. 

“Now take off the rest of your clothes, sweetie. Or are you going to continue being a dumb little girl and keep playing with me,” he growled softly, leaning back on the bed frame. You felt like acting up some more but he truly was scary when he’s upset and you didn’t want to make his visit back bad because of your behavior so you simply did what he said. Even though you wouldn’t admit it to the world, you also love obeying Jungkook. 

You quickly unzippered your jeans, pulling them off along with your panties and kicking them out of the bed. The warmth from the clothes were immediately replaced by the chilly air from the air conditioner, your nipples standing up and goosebumps filling your body. It was humiliating, especially since Jungkook can see you so clearly. 

“My precious sweetheart,” he cooed, leaning over you and you could feel his hardened member alongside the roughness of his jeans as he slowly grinded into you. 

“Ahh…” You didn’t know what to say, except you knew you wanted more. Jungkook’s mouth was latched onto your nipples, sucking them harshly while his other hand was massaging and flicking on them repeatedly. You felt your eyes roll back to your head and your pussy dampening, even though he wasn’t doing anything yet. 

“You like this baby?” he asked gruffly, tugging on your nipple teasingly as it sends sparks of pleasure inside you. You only let out a whine in response as he broke apart from your chest and slowly made his way down your body. 

All of a sudden, he inserted one of his long fingers inside of your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. You squealed from the intrusion as your body tried to familiarize itself with his finger, your walls clenching around his digit. 

“Damn, have you gotten tighter since last time?” He started to thrust his finger in and out of you at a moderate pace, trying to get you used to the feeling. As if one isn’t enough for you, he suddenly inserted a second one to stretch you out. 

Your mind was a haze, not paying attention to anything that was happening around you and focusing on the pleasure that Jungkook was giving you. His fingers attempted to reach the spongy section of your g-spot, the place that absolutely had you in hysterics. Surely enough, his fingertips grazed over it and you could nearly come undone at any second. 

While he added an additional finger and completely filled you up, you could feel his smooth tongue on your clit, flicking and sucking on it feverishly. High-pitched moans and mewls were coming out of your mouth embarrassingly as you tugged on Jungkook’s long locks in order to steady yourself of the pleasure. 

You could feel him curl his fingers and touch your g-spot, sending sparks within you. At this point, you were barely in a stable mindset due to how good he was making you feel. You felt a knot building up in your stomach, your orgasm coming close to you. 

“Are you gonna cum now baby girl? Do you want to cum for Sir? Yeah, I know you do, I could feel it coming,” he said tauntingly, his fingers and tongue abusing your cunt and the vibrations among it made the sensation feel even better. 

“Y-yeah, I’m gonna-” you whimpered pathetically but to your dismay, he completely stopped by sliding his fingers out and removing his face. With your release dismissed like it was nothing, you felt annoyance build up on you as your body shook from the denial. 

“What the hell? Why did you stop?” you groaned, your eyes shooting sharp daggers at Jungkook. If looks could kill, he would surely be dead within two seconds. But all that’s on his face were your liquids and a cocky smirk that you want to wipe off instantly. 

“Because I want you to cum on my dick first. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside you, y’know?” he said casually, pulling off his shirt like it was nothing and revealing his impressive 6-pack. One thing that you were always in awe of was his figure. Jungkook was a really athletic person, always finding time out of his day to work out and maintain his muscular body. You didn’t mind if he didn’t have abs but it neutralized his cute face that could easily kill anyone. 

“It’s been a while, yeah? You ready kitten?” Jungkook kicked off his jeans and his boxer that covers his massive bulge was immediately in your vision. You could feel your thighs rubbing together as you were craving him inside you. 

“You’re calling me kitten now?” you mumbled shyly as he sat on the edge of the bed, palming his hardened member. 

“Yeah because you’re my cute kitty, aren’t you? Do you want to take off my boxers for me?” he smirked, knowing how excited you are to see him like this again. Like there was no tomorrow, you yanked it off impatiently and his dick sprang out, hitting his abs before standing up instantly. 

“You’re excited, aren’t you? Don’t deny it,” Jungkook teased, stroking his member teasingly before setting you down on your back and hovering above you. 

“I want it,” you mumbled impatiently, getting excited with the thought of him fucking you until you can’t walk again. He chuckled at your reaction, slowly slipping himself inside you. You shrieked from the sudden movement and tried to make yourself comfortable even though this wasn’t new to you. 

“Alright baby, let’s go,” he said gruffly, slowly pulling out and slamming it back inside within the next five seconds. You let out a scream as he picked up the pace into the all-too familiar rough and fast one. 

“Damn, you’ve gotten way tighter since the last time I’ve fucked your brains out. Feels so good for Sir,” he groaned, his dick completely filling you warm and deep to the point where it could nearly reach your guts. “Does my baby like that? Like getting dicked down where I can feel her in your stomach?” “Ahh, oh my god!” You could only moan and whine in response, pathetic noises coming out of your mouth as Jungkook’s dick hit every surface of your pussy. His veins already made it even more pleasurable and you could feel the tip grazing upon your g-spot, making you even more sensitive. 

It hasn’t been long but embarrassingly, you could feel your orgasm arrive once again due to how good his dick was thrusting into you. As he continued to drill your abused cunt, you could feel your legs tremble at the sensitive feeling and the impending sensation of your orgasm starting to grow in your core. 

“S-sir, oh my god-” you mewled as Jungkook used his force to flip you on your stomach, your face covered in the pillows. You couldn’t feel him inside you for a second but suddenly, he slammed inside you with no remorse and continued fucking you at that fast pace. 

Your cunt throbs as you prepare yourself to cum all over his dick. Jungkook could sense it too by the way your walls started to tighten around him, making it even more pleasurable than the last time you two had sex due to how tight you were. You were praying that he doesn’t deny your orgasm again but there were times where he was that cruel. But you’ve behaved enough to not warrant that type of treatment. 

“Is my baby gonna cum now? Go on, come for me, I want to see you come undone on my dick,” he chanted lowly, his pace fastening due to his orgasm coming in soon. Like his words set off a reaction inside you, you screamed out his name and squirted on his dick and stomach. Using that as fuel to keep going, Jungkook thrusts even faster than before to catch his own high as you try to calm yourself down from your own orgasm. 

“Ahh, Jungkook-” you whined from the sensitivity but you kept holding on so he could cum too. The way his sweat dripped off of his forehead and complimenting with his dark locks nearly made you want to cum again. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh shit,” he moaned out, his thrusts slowing down and surely enough, you could feel his dick spurt out his seed inside you. He started to pull out and stroke himself, spurts of his cum filling up your pussy to not waste a drop. 

You and him started to breathe heavily from the intense fuck as you gingerly pulled up the sheets to cover your body. It’s not like you were embarrassed of him seeing your body, it was a habit you did after you have sex with him.

“Did you miss me?” he smiled, lying down next to you and covering an arm around your waist. You nodded, snuggling up next to him on the neck of his crook. There weren't any words spoken from the both of you for a while, instead you were just enjoying the presence of him next to you because after today, he’ll be gone again. 

If you had it your way, you didn’t want him to go but he really wanted to participate in his boxing match and what kind of girlfriend were you if you didn’t support him? Still, you loved every moment with him and he was the one thing you absolutely loved in your life. 

After a moment of silence, Jungkook broke the silence by facing towards you with seriousness in his eyes. You were worried that something may have happened, so you braced yourself with the worst that could happen. But surprisingly, his words were a bigger shock than any other disaster you could think of. 

“Y/N, do you mind if I ask something of you? I hope you don’t find it uncomfortable or invasive.” “Sure, what is it?” You should’ve known from the cheeky smirk he gave you that he was going to request this type of stuff. 

“I want to see you touch yourself. I think you’ll look so hot fucking yourself with your fingers while all I’m doing is just watching you.” “What the hell?!” 

You were lying if you said you didn’t think about it a lot, especially since Jungkook left the house today this afternoon. Now that he wasn’t there, the apartment felt lonely again and you automatically missed him. 

However, the thought of him also brings you back to the conversation you had after you two had sex after a while. 

“You’ve never touched yourself? I figured that something like that would come easy to you!” “Well- you know I have dignity right! It’s already embarrassing enough that I’m your submissive!” 

“You’re right, it’s already hot seeing you act all whiny and needy for my touch.” “Shut up! Stop making fun of me!”

You shook your head, trying to get rid of Jungkook’s words. With the intent to clean your room to take some stuff out of your mind, you walked to the shared bedroom and started to rearrange random knick-knacks that were placed in peculiar locations. 

While you were wandering around, your eye caught sight of a black duffel bag that was in a hidden corner of your bed. With curiosity, you approached it to check to see what was inside. It was heavy and filled with boxing gloves and other equipment, meaning that it was Jungkook’s. 

He must’ve forgotten it when he left today, you mused, holding the glove to your chest. A normal person would immediately contact him and give it back but it was like a living piece of him, having its name and scent. You can’t believe you already miss him that much to hold onto his boxing gloves for some comfort. How pathetic. 

The smell of him already reminded you of yesterday, when he touched you and made you feel so good. You groaned to yourself as you feel your panties dampening just from the thought of Jungkook giving you pleasure. 

“Y’know what, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Alright Jungkook, I’ll do it,” you muttered to yourself as you slowly grazed your fingers to your lower region. You could already feel the slick coming out of your panties, signalling how wet you were. 

You were a smart person but frankly, you were confused on how to touch yourself especially since this was your first time. Memories of the way Jungkook inserted and thrusted his fingers inside you flashed through your mind, giving you an idea on how to start. 

You slide your panties off to your ankles and slowly insert your index finger inside of your core, letting yourself get familiar to your own fingers inside of you. It sure felt different than when Jungkook did it, it wasn’t enough to completely make you feel undone. You pumped another finger inside, giving you something inside at least but it was no better than Jungkook’s touch.

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moaned softly, flicking your own clit with your fingers which makes the pleasure at least a bit better. You would rather have him with you but it was enough to fill up a small part of his absence. Remembering every time he fucked you harshly was enough to quicken your pace with your fingers, your walls clenching around them and your orgasm closely approaching. 

Your other hand groped your breasts, flicking your nipple and massaging them while the other was thrusting in and out of your needy cunt. You were completely in your own euphoria, the world completely fading away from you. Unfortunately for you, that euphoria is only short-lived. 

An annoying sound ran throughout your room, the culprit being your cell phone. You groaned with disappointment as you attempted to pry your fingers out of your pussy and your orgasm fading away with every time the ringtone chimed. 

With your slick-covered hands, you read the text and your blood started to run cold from the words that were displayed on the screen. 

[Jungkook ♡]

- Hi babe, I’m coming home bc I forgot my boxing bag.

- Sorry that this was sudden

- Actually, I’m outside the apartment rn

You’re fucked. Absolutely fucked. But lucky, you still had a minute to spare to make it seem like you weren’t doing anything. You put his boxing glove back in the bag and wobbled downstairs to the front door. The door locks started to jingle and you immediately opened them just for him to take his bag and go. You love him with all of your heart but now’s not the time to chat with him. 

“Hey Y/N, do you have my bag?” he asked across from you, looking as good as ever. You forced a smile and shoved his bag in front of your face.

“Yeah, it’s this one right? So, here it is so you can get going now! Goodbye!” you grinned, sweat dripping down your face. 

Jungkook looked puzzled on why you were acting that way but decided to go along with it. “O-okay, thanks.” 

“Of course! Now, you should get going now! Your boxing rehearsal isn’t going to wait forever, is it?” you chuckled, trying to push him out of the door but he didn’t budge. After taking a quick glance at you (more specifically your legs and the amount of slick dripping down), he decided to stay. 

“Woah, woah, there’s something going on. Let me in,” he said stubbornly, pushing against you to get inside the apartment.  

“What are you talking about? There’s literally nothing going on! You should go back to the boxing place!” you argued but he wouldn’t listen. Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you upstairs into the bedroom and set you down, looking straight into your eyes. You immediately blushed as his eyes held such confusion and hunger inside. 

“Don’t lie to me, only bad girls lie. So tell me baby, what exactly is going on?”

Surely he didn’t know right? You still have some time to lie because there’s no way he knows. 

“I was taking a nap before you texted me.” 

“Without your panties on and a shit ton of slick dripping down your thighs?” he asked with confusion, pulling up your skirt and revealing your soaking pussy, throbbing due to the atmosphere. At this point, you were absolutely stuck in a corner as Jungkook stared at the way you’re completely aroused. 

“Ahh, um..” “Are you cheating on me, Y/N?” His eyes were now full of sadness and hurt and you could immediately feel your heart start to break. 

“N-no! Of course not! I would never cheat on you, you’re the one who I love! It’s just because..” you tried to get the idea out of his head, holding his hands tightly. Jungkook’s face brightened up a bit before being replaced with suspicion.

“So, what’s up? What were you doing while I left?” There was absolutely no talking yourself out of this because Jungkook would find out either way at this point. But at least it’s better than making up a stupid lie, right? “I..um..remember how you said you wanted to see me touch myself yesterday?” “Of course.” “Well...I was doing that..” you mumbled with embarrassment, avoiding his eye contact. Jungkook’s ears picked up what you said and his face lit up with excitement and desire. 

“Say that again for me?” he smirked, loving how soft and shy you were now.   

“I..was touching myself while I was thinking of you,” you said a bit loudly but it was still so embarrassing. You had no idea why he was all so happy right now but it made you happy nonetheless.

“Do you think you can show me?” he grinned, staring up into your eyes. 

“What?! N-no! It’s private right? You see, it’s private for a reason! Now you got your bag and figured out why I was acting weird so you can go now!” you snapped, heat automatically filling up your body. 

“It’s okay, I can skip practice today. This is important, why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s not something I should tell you.” “Anyways, you’ve been a bad girl today. Touching yourself while thinking of me, you’re so naughty. So your punishment is to reenact what you did before I came back and I’m not leaving until I see you touch yourself. But don’t worry, if you need help then I’m always here,” Jungkook purred, his dominant persona on. You gulped down a lump down your throat but you weren’t ready to back down to him yet. 

“No I’m not! I’m not giving up my dignity just yet!” “Come on, little girl. I know you were fucking yourself like a little whore while you were gone. Did your tiny little fingers fill you up completely, better than my cock? I know you didn’t because even though you’re a whore, you’re still such a slut for my dick.” His dirty words made you even more turned on than normal with even more slick running down your thighs. You knew it was better to obey, especially since he’s talking like this. With that being said, you scooted yourself with the back of your head hitting the bed frame. After a minute of hesitation, you lifted up your skirt which revealed your whole pussy to him. Jungkook stared intently, noticing every little twitch that it made as it’s longing for something to be inside it and how wet it has become. His lips were curled into a smirk as your fingers started to graze over your folds. 

Taking a deep breath, you inserted two of your fingers to aid the throbbing in your core. It felt  different than when you did it before, maybe due to Jungkook staring at every little movement you made.

Despite your initial refusal, having him watch over you turned you on even more and the throbbing only continued to get worse after you slowly started to move your fingers. You didn’t know how much it turned you and him on, judging from his erection in his pants. 

“Ahh, oh my god,” you moaned, adding an additional finger and groping your boobs with your other hand.

Jungkook’s mouth was in shock, shocked at how you can look so sexy touching yourself even though it was your first time. His dick was begging to be released in his now tight sweatpants but just watching you like this was more than enough.

He’s never admitted it directly to you but surprisingly, he’s such a voyeur and seeing you wrecked with only your fingers or even a toy could make him cum as hard as him actually fucking you.

“J-Jungkook, please…” you mewled, rocking your hips against your small hands in an attempt to hit your g-spot, where only your boyfriend knows. 

By now, you’ve inserted your whole hand inside of your core and it still wasn’t as satisfying as Jungkook’s long fingers inside you. You should’ve been embarrassed that his vision was at you masterbating but frankly, you didn’t care anymore.

“Shit baby girl, just like that, fucking ruin yourself,” he grunted, slightly stroking his hardened member through his sweatpants. 

“I want your mouth on me,” you cried, slowly starting to feel the same ecstatic feeling of your release. The way his eyes were set on you alone brings you closer to your high as you’re practically grinding on your hand. 

Luckily, Jungkook heard your wish and immediately brought his face down to your core, taking your fingers out and licking your clit like there was no tomorrow. His face was completely buried with the goal of eating you out and getting your cum out of you. It wasn’t a thought that ever crossed your mind but you never realized how much better Jungkook made you feel and how the throbbing seemed to go away after he was with you. His face was absolutely covered in your juices and adding to his warm mouth were his long fingers. 

“You like that don’t you, you slutty little girl?” he hummed, the vibrations of his mouth making you even more closer to the edge. You gripped onto his arm tightly, your fingernails dragging along his muscles due to how much he was giving you. 

You felt his fingers curl against you, hitting your g-spot and bringing you closer to your climax. It felt too good and you were craving to be ruined by him. Jungkook stared at the way you were shoving his hand amongst your tight little cunt, grinding on it as you try to reach your high and the squelching sounds it made. 

Within seconds, you were close to your orgasm and you were trying to chase after it feverishly. His tongue and his fingers were too much for you, even though you received them last night. They made you feel so satisfied and full, always filling you up to the edge and the way he was hitting every spot nearly made you cream all over his fingers. 

Unfortunately for you, he immediately pulled his fingers and mouth away, completely denying you of releasing. The hot feeling and intensity disappeared instantly and was replaced by the familiar throbbing as you let out a groan of disappointment. This was the second time you’ve lost your orgasm and you just wanted to release on him once more. 

“Why did you stop? I was going to-” you growled, your face heating up due to the increased temperature inside. 

“You’re not going to cum when I’m away. Is that a rule you can follow?” he said sharply, licking every remain of your juices off his face and wiping the excess with a tissue. 

“W-why?” “Instead, I want you to send me a video touching yourself but not cumming until my match. Is that an order my little girl can do?” 

You absolutely hated the fact that you won’t be releasing for a while but you didn’t want to get him mad. All you can do is just accept your fate and nod. 

“There you go, don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel so good once I win,” he grinned, kissing you passionately. You could immediately taste yourself on his lips and felt his hardened member upon you. There were more things that the two of you would’ve done but he wouldn’t allow that to happen. 

“Well then, I’ll be off. You’ll behave, right?” he parted cheerily, grabbing his bag and leaving the apartment like he didn’t just completely ate you out and denied your orgasm for the second time. As you heard the door lock, you’re left with your skirt drenched from your juices and the aching feeling between your legs. 

Oh the things that Jungkook does to you. But what would happen if you gave him a little surprise during his boxing match. Surely, you weren’t that submissive and besides, it would be fun to tease him..

“You did great man!” Taehyung cheered, high-fiving Jungkook as soon as his match ended. He shared the same with a bunny-like smile and went inside the locker room to clean up to see you. Not only did he win but he’s going to be staying with you for a while now. 

With a bright spirit, he unlocked his locker and opened his phone to a text message from you. There was an attachment with a seemingly innocent message but once he opened the video, it only fueled his desire. 

[Y/N ♡]

- I miss you so much 

Inside of the video was you fucking yourself with your fingers, high-pitched and incoherent whimpers coming out of you and from the looks of it, it was like you’re about to reach your climax. 

Within the last few seconds, it cuts to you creaming all over the bed and licking your juices off of your fingers seductively with a cute wink at the end. All of that just to rile and tease him. 

Shit, the things that this girl does to me, Jungkook sighs, feeling his member starting to grow inside of his pants again. They were simple instructions yet you can’t obey properly. Maybe it was due to you being a brat and wanting to be put in your place again. 

Well, if there’s one thing that you and Jungkook know, is that you’ll certainly not walk the next day.

a/n: honestly, i’m not too proud of this but i hope you liked it regardless! let me know what you think and have a great day <3

[luxekook]

intimidation | myg

⇥ pairing: yoongi x reader

⇥ genre: fluff, a lil touch of smut, college AU

⇥ summary: in which you think Yoongi is intimidating bc of his dark clothing and his quiet ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude… but then someone makes him laugh and you watch as his face lights up in the cutest gummy smile complete with shining eyes and blushing cheeks and BOOM you’re whipped for that boy

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: dirty talk, light smut, cursing

⇥ sequel: intensity

Thursday, September 28th – 11:16am

Min Yoongi intimidated the living hell out of you.

While the boy in question was not all that tall or all that muscular, there was admittedly something in his aura that just screamed ‘big dick energy’... Not that you’d ever get the chance to confirm that hypothesis. You weren’t even sure you wanted to.

Shoulders slumping, you shifted your peripheral gaze off of Yoongi and back onto your professor as she droned on about evolution. Your shared Introduction to Biology class inspired an odd mix of dread and excitement every Tuesday/Thursday morning as a consequence of Min Yoongi’s sheer presence.

Your mind drifted back to the first class of the semester about a month ago...

Arriving in the lecture hall indicated on your class schedule, you took a seat in the middle of the room. You were spoiled for choice given that you had arrived fifteen minutes early for lecture. The first day of classes was always stressful for you, given your tendency to get lost within the many buildings on campus as well as your hatred for lateness.

As the room filled with more and more students, you shuffled through your backpack. “Where the hell is it?” you muttered, searching for your planner where you would jot down important notes.

Finally, you spotted it wedged in between two of your folders. Grasping it in triumph, you tugged it out of your backpack and placed it on your desk. Glancing back up, you found the coldest pair of brown eyes staring back at you.

“Is anyone sitting there?” The question came in a slow drawl, all rough and lazy. Long fingers adorned in rings shifted as the boy pointed towards the empty seat next to you. God, he was offensively good-looking.

You blinked and shook your head, “No, have at it.” His gaze pinned you in place for a few more brief seconds before his chin lifted in acknowledgment and he slumped into place beside you.

You had learned absolutely nothing that first class. Or any subsequent class that Min Yoongi deigned with his presence. The odds were about 50/50 on any given day.

Today, his presence was wreaking havoc on your nervous system. Since the initial encounter on your first day of class, the amount of words exchanged between the two of you could be counted on one hand. Last week he had asked you for your notes from a previous class he had missed, and you almost burned from the inside out with embarrassment as he took in your impeccably organized and color-coded notes with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk.

“Were you planning on framing these?” he had asked while snapping a quick series of photos of your notebook pages. In response, you had scowled, pulling your notebook out of his reach.

You were a nerd. You knew that. But you didn’t like being made fun of for it. Especially by a boy as arrogantly apathetic as Min fucking Yoongi.

Therefore, you were doing your absolute best to ignore him today. The hour and a half of class dragged by so slowly you thought you might have grown a couple gray hairs by the time your professor dismissed everyone.

Rushing to pack up your belongings and multitude of colored pens, a small slip of paper dropped onto your desk. Confused, you immediately glanced up to find the source and found Yoongi sauntering away from you, black backpack hitched over one shoulder carelessly.

Fingers shaking, you opened the hastily folded paper: “(y/n) – Sorry if I made you upset last class. I only meant to extend my compliments to the artist... – MYG.”

Compliments to the—Min Yoongi was so full of shit. But you couldn’t fight the small smile that spread across your face.

“(y/n) ... (y/n) ... (y/n)!”

The sound of your name shook you from your thoughts. Your roommate Nia decided that wasn’t enough and she shoved you in the arm.

“Ow, what the hell, Nia?” you grumbled, rubbing your left bicep dramatically.

Nia scoffed, “You’re staring into your bland salad like it holds the key to the universe. What’s up with you?”

Stabbing said salad with your fork, you waved your well-lettuced utensil in your roommate’s face, “What’s up is that I cannot stand Min Yoongi! He walks around looking like god’s gift to anyone attracted to men. Then, he has the audacity to critique my notes and give me a half-assed apology with further ridicule? The nerve! The gall!”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Nia cut off your rampage succinctly, “Min Yoongi apologized to you? We are talking about the same Min Yoongi, right? Bleached hair? Piercings? General hatred for life?”

You nodded. Nia’s eyebrows rose to new heights, “We must contact the historians. This is one for the books.”

Rifling through your planner, you pulled out the note Yoongi left you and thrust it in Nia’s direction, “Look!”

Unfolding the small torn paper, you watched as Nia’s eyes darted back and forth... and back and forth... and back and forth.

“Well?”

Nia’s wide eyes lifted to yours, “(y/n) ... Min Yoongi is flirting with you.”

You choked on your lettuce, “What? Where on earth are you getting that? He’s clearly roasting me.”

“Nope,” Nia threw the note back at you, “Clearly flirting. Damn, Min Yoongi is into my best friend? This is wild! Okay, you first need to get on that, and then you need introduce me to Park Jimin.”

“Are you insane?” Your outburst gained annoyed looks from the surrounding students in the dining hall and you lowered your voice, “I am not ‘getting on’ anyone!”

Rolling her eyes, Nia stared pointedly to the right, “So if I'm hearing you correctly, you’re saying that you don’t find him attractive?”

Your eyes followed her line of vision and landed on none other than your topic of conversation. 

God, he looked good. Even surrounded by his group of attractive friends, Yoongi stood out to you. You were just about to glance away when it happened.

Kim Seokjin’s windshield wiper laugh burst through the cacophony of conversations, following what must have been one of his famously so-bad-they’re-good jokes.

And then Min Yoongi smiled.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you watched his eyes crinkle, his cheeks turn a pretty pink and, his smile to widen into the cutest, most devastating gummy smile you had ever seen in your entire life.

“Holy fuck.” You exhaled. It was official. You were fucking whipped.

“Yup, that’s what I thought,” Nia’s smug tone pulled your focus away from this new version of Yoongi you were desperate to know, “Still going to deny that you want to jump his bones?”

“...No.”

You were scared shitless by Nia’s maniacal grin in response to your admission.

“Excellent,” she smirked, her palms rubbing together like a plotting villain, “Here’s what we’re going to do...”

Friday, September 29th – 10:34pm

Your hands tugged at the hem of the short leather miniskirt Nia loaned you for the night as your stomach flipped more times than Simone Biles’ floor routine.

Damn, you were nervous.

When Nia talked you into attending Kim Taehyung’s party, you had agreed pretty easily. You both had reasoned that Yoongi might not even be there; and, if he was, you would just see if he would approach you.

It had seemed so simple in the moment, but now as you grasped your beer you realized that nothing regarding Min Yoongi was simple. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, you and Nia had immediately been recruited for beer pong by Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Unable to crush Nia’s dreams of hooking up with Jimin, you had agreed immediately even though you were both absolutely terrible at the game.

Jimin and Jungkook now only had one cup left to make, while you and Nia had five. You dipped the pong ball into the designated cup of water to clean it, took aim and watched in glee as the ball sailed into the front cup.

“Oh, fuck yes!” You and Nia high-fived, taking in the rare victory. Opening her mouth to respond, Nia’s words died in her throat as she looked over your shoulder.

“What is it?” you began to turn to see what was so alarming to your friend.

“No!” Nia hissed, “Don’t you dare turn around. Min Yoongi is staring at you like you’re a five-course meal and he’s starving.”

Your soul left your body, only to be snapped back into place with the interrupting cheers from Jimin and Jungkook as they sunk their last cup.

“Good game!” Jungkook’s arm wrapped around you in a half-hug. You shoot Nia a look, but she’s completely occupied in conversation with Jimin. Jungkook’s arm fell to encircle your waist when you felt it – the weight of a certain someone’s gaze.

You barely registered Jimin and Nia’s exit from the pong table and onto the makeshift dancefloor in Taehyung’s living room. And when Jungkook suggested getting another drink from the kitchen you almost shouted in agreement. Anything to escape the eyes you knew were glued to you.

He’s just a boy, you tried to remind yourself, you could handle Min Yoongi.

You followed Jungkook into the cramped kitchen, nodding along to whatever story he’s rambling on about. Locating the vast array of alcohol scattered along the kitchen island, you grabbed a solo cup and fixed yourself a rum and coke.

“...and then Jin-hyung said ‘It’s burgundy!’” You tuned back in to Jungkook’s story just in time to laugh in the appropriate place. You felt bad. Jungkook was cute and sweet, but just not your type.

“Jungkook,” a low voice broke through your shared laughter.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in alarm as he turned to face the intruder, “Yoongi-hyung! Wh-what’s up?”

Yoongi’s gaze narrowed; Jungkook gulped, “Bye, (y/n)-noona.”

You watched in horror as Jungkook literally scrambled out of the room to get away from you and Yoongi.

“Why’d you do that?” You looked up at Yoongi.

Damn, he looked good. His blonde locks were tousled like he had been running his hands through it and his cheeks were slightly flushed – probably from drinking.

Yoongi ignored your question, shooting a look at the group of boys occupying the kitchen counter space next to you and they immediately made themselves scarce.

His dark gaze turned back to you, “Why Jungkook?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“Why were you talking to Jungkook, (y/n)?” Yoongi moved closer to you, backing you into the counter behind you, “That boy couldn’t handle you.”

Your eyebrows quirked up, “And why’s that?”

“Because, baby, all that hair, all that ass, and all that attitude needs a man to give you what you want and what you need.”

You struggled to formulate an answer as you watched as he took a long sip of his beer, his eyes continuing to burn into yours.

“Are you drunk, Min Yoongi?”

“Lil’ bit,” he muttered and shot you a devastating half-smile, “But still sober enough to appreciate how goddamn good you look right now.”

Your mouth opened and closed several times before you choked out, “I thought you hated me?”

His hand darted through his hair as his jaw flexed once… twice, “Not even close.”

“But you don’t talk to me... you made fun of my notes!”

“I don’t talk to you because I think you’re so fucking cute with your colored pens and your oversized sweatshirts and your overused planner. I don’t talk to you because I want to ruin you and worship you all at once.”

All air had escaped your lungs at this point. You let out a jagged breath as Yoongi suddenly slid his hands around your waist.

He scooped you off the floor and placed you on the edge of the counter. Your arms circled his shoulders instinctually and his grip tightened on your hips. When he glanced down at you, he let out a rough breath, sounding like you were torturing him.

Turning to the side, you tried to hide from his intensity behind the curtain of your hair, but he just pushed it back behind your ear.

“Yoongi, please…” Your desperate words left your mouth subconsciously, the feeling of his lips so close to yours made your pulse race and your head spin.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse and his pupils dilated, “I’ll give you anything. Just ask.”

“Kiss me?” You barely finished asking your question before Yoongi’s lips slammed onto your own.

He kissed you like he wanted to own you – and to have you own him. Gravity tried to drag you down off the counter and your mouths separated in a gasp. Yoongi hoisted you up higher with a firm hand on the back of your thigh.

Hooking your leg around his slim waist, you tugged him into you, feeling every inch of his body respond to your touch. He breathed heavily as you dragged your nails down his back slowly, provokingly. You felt his responding groan rumble deep from within his chest.

His free hand latched into your hair and tugged your lips back to his. You both moaned as his tongue circled yours, twining around it, enticing yours to follow.

You swore the way Min Yoongi kissed could be felt all the way down to your bones.  

His kisses got greedier, more desperate as he seemed to be trying to memorize the taste of your mouth on his. “God-fucking-damn," he panted, pulling back slightly and resting his forehead on yours.

You smiled, completely fucked out. His fingertips dragged down your skin slowly until he reached your waist. His hands slid up under your shirt, and he rested his palms against your skin, fingers splayed down over your hips. His hold was undeniably possessive.

Shifting his head into the crevice of your neck, Yoongi muttered, “Go out with me, (y/n).”

The only answer your last few braincells could formulate was a garbled “Mkay”. But judging from the smile you felt against your pulse point, it was good enough for him.

a/n: originally was going to make this fic about jungkook (inspired by this post), but I decided I needed to write it about Yoongi bc he is baby

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[plant-flwrs]

i just read house unity and i am in tears!! it's so beautifully written, you must be an author bc that is pure TALENT 😭✨ if you don't mind can i request george x soft hufflepuff reader? she's kinda pure and george is like ily let's be together. thx!!

budding romance // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: um UR TOO NICE!!! thank you so much!!! I do not mind in the slightest, so I hope you like it hehe! um i also love hufflepuffs so much they are like the best house (coming from a ravenclaw) my sister is a hufflepuff and like three of my good friends are hufflepuffs so y’all are the best and i have a major soft spot for u. 

i’ve always found something about botany and plants incredibly romantic, so if this just sounds like a fanfiction for plants, you know why lol. I also made George a bit soft in this so i hope you don’t mind that either <3 n e ways, i hope you enjoy this! thanks for requesting! also sorry this took so long :( i had a bit of a hard time finding a solid idea but i think it worked out :) like, reblog, or leave any feedback if you’d like!

summary: George needs a tutor for Herbology, but has no plans on learning.

(3k)

--------

The back of your neck was particularly warm, and you hadn’t decided if it was because of the blazing sun shining through the Herbology classroom glass ceiling, or the fact that George Weasley was staring at the back of your head.

Your delicate fingers traced the back of the Dittany plant, feeling the bumps and lines of the veins that trailed to the stem. You wrote down some observations in your worn notebook, before glancing back at the plant. You picked up a pair of garden scissors, prepared to cut the plant at the stem.

“George Weasley is looking over here,” your friend whispered to you, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“I know, he does it often,” you replied, using a pair of tweezers to pull apart the Dittany.

“Do you think he needs something?” she asked, returning back to her own plant.

“I just figured he was copying what I was doing,” you wiped a bit of moisture off of your hand and onto your apron, taking the opportunity to look over your shoulder.

George’s eyes met yours, and his face flushed with an embarrassed blush. You offered him a kind smile, your eyes falling down to his mangled Dittany plant. You looked back up to his eyes, this time sympathetically smiling at him.

You returned to your own plant, jotting down a few more notes in the stained journal next to you.

Herbology was a strong suit of yours, you had always found it relaxing and simple. The plants offered so much to people, and all you had to do was understand how to care for them properly.

After your eventual dismissal, you rubbed the back of your neck and felt a sunburn, cursing yourself for not bringing some sort of sunscreen in your bag.

You heard an awkward cough from behind you, followed by a weak “hello”. You turned to face the noise and was a little surprised to see the tall redhead it came from.

“Hello,” you said kindly, closing your bag.

“Hi,” he repeated, and you waited for him to continue.

An awkward amount of time passed before he realized he had already said hello.

“Oh, right, um” he coughed again, clearing his throat, “well, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

He paused, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I know who you are, George,” you replied before he had the chance, smiling at his sentiment, “we’ve gone to school together for 6 years.”

“Yeah, I just usually say it formally,” he retracted his hand after he held onto yours for what he felt was too long, “you know, with an identical brother and all.”

You nodded your head, still smiling at the nervous boy.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hands gripping the leather straps of his bag nervously.

“In addition to the introduction?” you said, trying to make him less nervous.

He laughed lightly, shifting from one leg to the other.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, finding it impossible to wipe the smile off your face.

“I was wondering, since you seem so good at it, if you would help me out in Herbology?” he spoke fast, and you nearly missed what he said.

“Oh,” you were surprised by his question. He and his brother had a bit of a reputation at this school, and tutoring didn’t seem to align with it.

“I get if you can’t or something, I know you must be busy with your own studies,” he began, but you waved your hands, cutting him off.

“No, no, I don’t mind,” your smile widened as he let out a relieved breath of air, his chest deflating.

“So you’ll tutor me?” he asked, a crooked smile dawning upon his lips.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you replied easily, nodding your head.

There were many reasons not to tutor George, you found later. For one, you fell in love with him. Not that you could be blamed, he was incredibly charming and adorable. The other reason was that he actually had very little interest in the plants, and his efforts seemed more geared towards you.

You had asked Professor Sprout if you and George could meet in the Herbology room every Wednesday after her classes. She was skeptical, but she trusted you and allowed you access as long as you promised to keep George in line.

This particular Wednesday seemed no different than the others, besides the growing crush you had formed on George. You waited for him at a stool by the door, a textbook open in front of you, along with your Herbology journal, a few quills, your apron, your gardening equipment, and a dying Dittany plant you planned on showing George how to save. You had been waiting for a while, but George was usually late. You had pulled some Arithmancy homework from your bag and worked on it in the meantime.

“Sorry!” George burst through the door of the greenhouse, a book falling from his fumbling hands, “Sorry, I got caught up with Fred, I’m sorry I’m late.”

More and more apologies flooded from his mouth, like they did most days, as he made his way to the stool next to you.

“It’s alright,” you put away your homework and pulled your textbook to rest on the table between the two of you.

You stood from your stool and began putting on your apron, and moved over to the cabinet with the spare aprons. You got one for George and his hands fumbled behind his back, his focus on you. He watched the side of your face as you peered into the textbook, your fingers tracing the words as you read. You lightly tapped it, pointing it out to George.

“We’ll start here,” you said, sitting back down in your stool.

Your wand hovered over a watering jug on the table, and you cast the Aguamenti charm. Water poured from your wand, filling the jug.

George watched you, nervously turning his fingers over in his lap. He glanced down, noticing the habit, and smoothed his hands over his legs. He brought his hands to his hair and raked them through the red locks, rolling his shoulders back, trying to relax in your presence. He never was able to, and he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

George couldn’t care any less than he already did about Herbology. He thought it was boring and useless. Not many of his pranks required extensive knowledge about plants, and when they did, the plants were already in use. But, when he saw you from across the room, your glasses teetering on the edge of your nose, your fingers tracing over the lettering in the textbook, hair falling into your face, and that wonderfully sweet smile etched onto your beautiful face, he had to talk to you.

It took him a week or two of staring at the back of your head before you even noticed him. The first time that beautiful smile was for him, he could only think of you for the rest of the day. Fred was tired of it, honestly, George was desperately infatuated with you. George had worked up the tutoring plan with Fred, with the promise that he wouldn’t actually study anything. “We have a reputation to uphold, Georgie!”

“Okay,” your sweet voice pulled George from his thoughts, and his eyes flickered from your face to your hands on the book, “so this is a Dittany.”

Your hands moved from the book to the dying plant. Its previously green leaves were now brown and wilting. Your fingertips moved over the delicate leaves, to the stems, and you raked your fingers through the dry dirt.

George leaned forward on the table, putting his chin to rest in his palm. He listened to you talk about the plant, describing just about everything there was to know. He wondered how you knew all of this from memory, and admired you even more than he thought possible.

You reached over the table to grab the garden scissors, but they were just out of your grasp. George leaned forwards and picked them up, turning them to you. You hadn’t retracted your hand, so when he pulled them from the table, they slid open and you felt a sharp pain on your fingertip.

You pulled your hand away and nursed it in your lap. A red stain appeared on your apron, and soon it spread as your fingertip was flowing with blood. You heard the scissors clatter on the table and George turned to you, already spouting apologies.

“Shit!” he cursed, his body turning towards you and he slouched to become eye level with you in your seat, “I’m so sorry!”

You whimpered involuntarily, bringing your finger to your mouth to suck away some of the blood. You removed your finger and wiped it on your apron, only for the blood to continue flowing.

George was panicking, he felt absolutely awful.

“Can I see it?” you looked up to see his creased brow and guilt- flooded eyes.

You swallowed hard and nodded, offering him your hand timidly.

He gently placed his hands over yours, they were so large they nearly covered them completely. His hands were warm and calloused on the palms from years of gripping his Beater bat. He brought your hand to him, holding it close to his chest as he looked at the small cut.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated, and he rubbed his thumb soothingly on our palm.

He pulled out his wand and looked at you for wordless permission, which you granted him curiously. He hovered over your finger and mumbled a spell you hadn’t heard before. The broken skin on your finger began to mend together, and the stinging had been replaced with an odd numbness. There was still the remains of blood, but George brought his apron to your finger and wiped it away. He still held your hand, looking at your face.

“How did you know that spell?” you asked, surprised when your voice came out as a whisper.

“You learn a lot when you have siblings like mine,” George responded in a whisper, looking at you sheepishly.

His hand was tightening around yours, and his palm rested against the back of your hand. You wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

George’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and it was so fast you had thought you might have imagined it. Your eyes moved to his lips, noticing that his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth.

“Well, it’s the least I could do,” he responded coolly, dropping your hand back into your lap and straightening his tie as if it had become too tight.

You looked down at your aprons, each stained with small drops of your blood.

“Ew,” you said, trying to wipe off the dried red stain, “Sprout will kill me!”

Pulling his wand back out, he placed it on the table.

“Here,” he moved close to you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, breathing in deeply as his mouth was inches away from your ear. You felt him fumbling with the bow that tied your apron, and his hands grazed your lower back.

Soon the bow was untied, and George hovered for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile as he smelled your wonderful perfume.

Your apron became lose and he pulled back, his hands moving to your neck as he pulled it off. He did the same with his own and laid them both on the table.

“Tergeo,” he said, pointing his wand at the aprons.

Your apron was as good as new, and so was his, all the dirt and blood removed from the cloth.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the moment of intimacy from your brain. You forced a smile at him, thanking him as you took the apron from him.

“You’re a much better student than you let on, George,” you said, holding the apron loosely in your lap.

He made a scoffing noise, but a genuine and flushed smile fell on his face.

Neither of you felt inclined to nurse a dead plant back to life, in fact, you had no idea what to do. George just stared at you, as if he were waiting for something.

“Um-” George spoke at the same time as you, and you closed your lips.

“No, you go ahead,” he said, bowing his head to you slightly.

You laughed and insisted that you weren’t going to say anything important.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to take a walk around the grounds,” he said, already standing from his stool, “it’s awfully warm in here.”

George was right, the greenhouses seemed to be particularly warm. You thought some fresh air would be nice.

“Not very interested in the Dittany?” you teased, standing from your stool and moving to clear the table.

“Oh no!” George said nervously, hoping he didn’t offend you, “No, its wonderful-”

“I’m only teasing George, I know Herbology can be boring,” you smiled at him and laughed to yourself when you saw him visibly relax.

He was always so nervous around you, no matter how hard you tried to make him comfortable.

The two of you put away all the supplies, cleaning the table off for Professor Sprout. You had used the water left in the watering jug on any dry looking plants. George watched you going around the greenhouse, the sunshine making you seem like you were glowing. You held your hair behind your shoulder, peering into each pot.

“Alright,” you dusted your hands and tucked away your apron, “let’s go.”

George held the door open for you, and you ducked beneath his outstretched arm as you crossed the threshold. You followed his lead as he led you down a hallway.

“So you like Herbology a lot, right?” George asked you, casting a glance down at your side profile.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“There’s a boy in my house, Neville, he’s great at Herbology,” George spoke fondly, his eyes turning to look out the tall windows.

“Sprout has talked about him,” you said, looking at George’s side profile, “says he’s quite talented.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” George said awkwardly, feeling quite uncertain in your presence.

“What’s your favorite class?” you asked, still trying to make some conversation.

George raked his mind, trying to decide if he should make up an answer to sound smart or be honest. He decided to be honest.

“I quite like lunch,” he said, casting a smile down at you.

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully. He bumped his shoulder against yours, and you giggled even more.

You were eventually able to fall into a comfortable conversation, walking around the castle with ease. His hands tucked themselves into his pockets, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You eventually stopped in the courtyard, and George led you over to a bench under a large tree.

You sat close to each other, and he was painfully aware of the way your leg rubbed against his. He looked down at the spot where your skirt ended and your tights began, a lump forming in his throat. He looked at the side of your face, you seemed wonderfully content. Your eyes scanned the array of plants in front of you, looking at each of the vibrant flowers that were beginning to bloom.

“I really am sorry about your hand,” he said, partly as an excuse to pick up your hand and pretend to look at the healed cut.

Your felt tingles shoot down your arm at the unexpected touch. You looked at the hair that fell over his forehead as he peered down at your hand, holding it delicately.

“Oh, it’s alright,” you said reassuringly, “accidents happen.”

He smiled at your kindness, your eyes meeting. This time, you were sure he was looking at your lips. Your eyes danced around his face, and you felt your lips curling into a smile as he watched them.

“Would you mind if-” he croaked out, but the words seemed to be caught in his throat.

You giggled, and he dropped your hand, his head rolling back as a bought of laughter came from him. He suddenly seemed the most relaxed he had ever been.

Suddenly, when his head came to face yours again, his hands snaked up to hold your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and your smile did too. He brought your face to his, and you had realized what he was going to ask you just a second ago.

His hands were warm, and the callouses felt nice against your soft cheeks. His kiss was soft and gentle, and he waited for you to reciprocate. Your hands traveled up to wrap around his neck, and the second your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, his kiss intensified.

One of his hands traveled down to your neck, and his thumb grazed your jaw. The other slithered to your hair, and he lightly pushed your face even closer to his. Your nose pressed into his cheek and you leaned closer, your shoulder bumping into his. His tongue trailed over your bottom lip, and you sighed, opening your mouth to his.

“Ew! Get a room!”

You heard two voices shouting towards you. You pulled away, much to George’s dismay, who stayed in the same place with his eyes closed.

You looked over George’s shoulder and saw his brother and his friend.

“George,” you nudged him, casting your blushing cheeks and sheepish smile down at your lap, “I think you’re needed.”

George groaned, opening his eyes slowly. His hand was still tangled in your hair, and he slowly removed it. You felt chills as his hand raked over your neck and down your yellow tie, attempting to keep your close.

“What?” he said so poisonously, that your eyes widened.

“Keep it in your pants!” the younger redhead called out, shoving his shoulder against his friends, laughing.

“I swear to-” you heard George mumbled, already moving from his seat next to you and off to his brother.

The smaller redhead shoved his books into Harry’s chest, setting off in a run. Harry laughed loudly as George chased after his younger brother. George pulled his wand from his waistband, pointing it at Ron and easily casting a spell that bound a rope at Ron’s feet. Ron fell to the ground with a thud and George stood over him, smiling evilly.

He looked back at you, watching as you covered an entertained laugh with your hand. His face melted into pure admiration, and he abandoned Ron, leaving him tied up in the grass. George broke out in a jog, determined to hear your sweet laugh.

[fweasleyswhore]

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter Two: Your Least Favorite Color

Chapter One

a/n chapter two my lovlies!! i rlly wanted to pump this out p fast bc ive been having so much fun with it and i hope you are too!

summary: fred and george tell you their plan for their prank. fluff with a pinch of angst.

word count: 3k

warnings: some touching??? uncomfy situation??

tags: @you-make-children-cry @levylovegood @bohemianspacebabe

comment a request to be added to my taglist !

“Snape’s least favorite color?” I laughed out. “I think you mean, like, any color. I mean has he ever worn anything that isn’t black?”

I was now seated in a small semblance of a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George in front of me. It was most definitely past curfew but because tomorrow was Saturday I really didn’t care, the time was the last thing on my mind. The most present thought I had was how the hell Fred and George were going to change the color of all the cauldrons in Snape's room and get away with it. 

“Well, now that you bring it up, I do believe I saw him in robes that looked rather navy instead of black.” George pondered, looking up to the ceiling and tapping his chin as if he was deep in thought. 

“Oh bug off!” I laughed and smacked him on the arm. He looked at his arm with wide eyes, his smile gone. Before I could ask if I was too forceful he was pretending to cry, a little too loud than he should’ve considering it was well past 12 and I am technically trespassing. None of us cared though or even thought to care as we watched George grasp onto his brother’s arms like it was the last thing he would ever do. 

“I-I don’t want to die Freddie.” He whispered. His grip tightened onto his brother as he spoke again. “Freddie, I…” He then let out a loud, fake sob. “There’s so much I haven’t done.” He dropped his head and shook it. I rolled my eyes, how long was he going to keep this up? 

Fred brought his hands up to cradle his brother’s head. “It’s ok George, you can let go, it’s ok.” He looked into his brother’s eyes tearfully, “I’ll help you…”

Before George could react Fred lifted one of his hands and swiftly flicked him on the forehead. George let out a loud groan and spasmed a bit in Fred’s arms, I watched with narrowed eyes as he seized up and shook. 

“You look more like a fish out of water than a dying man,” I said smugly. George rose up and fixed his hair. He looked over to me with a glare and his tongue out. I laughed fully, the situation and everything, as well as some sleep deprivation, catching up on me. I threw my head back, clutched my stomach, and rolled around for what felt like hours. Once I had started I couldn’t stop. 

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” George whispered to Fred. “Maybe we have finally broken her?”

“Maybe…” Was all Fred was able to say back, too caught up with the beautiful girl in front of her to even fully process George's words. 

Finally calming down due to the sharp pain building up in my stomach from laughing so hard, I painfully pushed myself to sit up straight. Leaning on the couch behind me I tried to catch my breath while gripping my stomach. I could feel my face was flushed, my hair was a mess but I couldn’t care. Although the pain that coursed through my body, I was still smiling, looking at the two boys in front of me. Focusing on George I saw that he looked at me with a look of disbelief and amusement, rolling my eyes at him I focussed on Fred ready to be met with the same expression. 

What I was met with nearly made me roll over again. 

The way he looked at me made the rest of the world evaporate. I lost my breath. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t amused or disbelieving like George, he smiled at me with pure content, like watching me writhing around on the floor was the best use of his time. His eyes flickered with something, his usual gleam of mischief no longer evident but what was currently being held I couldn’t decipher. My whole face flushed even more if that was possible, I was praying in my head he didn’t notice it. I diverted my eyes from his gaze, trying to hide my red face as I adjusted into the position I held before I broke out in laughter. 

“Maybe red?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic, my voice quivered, making me cringe and I hope that the boys didn’t notice or just wrote it off. 

“If we make them red he will know a Gryffindor did it, that’s the equivalent of a murderer leaving a ransom note with his name on it.” George retorted. I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything. Bringing my gaze up to meet theirs I looked between them, they were both staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought. I brought my gaze to the fire behind them. I pulled my lip in between my teeth trying to focus on a specific color that would make the blood drain from Snape’s face. 

Snape was the head of the Slytherin house, and though that relation, I absolutely despised him. He was terribly rude to Gryffindors for no bloody reason, being that my friends mostly consisted of Gryffindors, he was terribly rude to me as well. He never took points away from me specifically, knowing it would reflect badly on him, but he took the absolute piss out of any Gryffindor around, often even subjected me to long detentions for minor offenses. I have to watch my step around him, even my breathing could set him off, send a nasty glare, or even grade my way. Being a Slytherin though, there was not much I could do about it except accept it, and that made my blood boil under the surface. 

“Perhaps,” I started, my gaze was still trained on the dancing fire behind the boy. “Hot pink would suffice?” 

Lifting my gaze from the fire I glanced between the two. 

“Wicked.” They said in unison. They had these stupid grins on their faces that made me giggle. 

The rest of the night was spent actually completing the plan, or trying to and getting distracted. The day before we leave for Christmas break we would sneak into his room, Fred and George would hide in the back of the room while I waited for Snape to arrive. I would ask him to help me find a book in the library about potion making because “I had really been struggling this past year in his class”. Total lie, I knew what I was doing Snape just hated to give me the grade I deserved. 

Considering Mrs. Pince was on maternity leave he would have no option but to say yes. The boys would hex the cauldrons then run back to the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were ready to provide an alibi. It flowed well, the potions section of the library was in the back and far up, Ron and Harry were more than happy to take the piss out of Snape, and Snape knew that because I was in his house I would never do anything directly against him for fear of being expelled. 

Although I knew there would be no evidence for Snape to use against me I was still quite nervous but the thought of the shit eating grins it would provide the twins gave me enough courage to agree. They always made me happy, it was only fair I do the same for them. 

Once it was mildly solidified in our brains we let the conversation drift, topics from quidditch to the worst animal to transfigure as filled up what should’ve been a quite common room at that hour, and never once did I feel bored.  

-

The feeling of someone shaking my shoulders brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to a rather bright and blurry mess of red around me, quickly shutting them again I groaned, swatting at my attacker. My lazy attempts fell short never actually hitting anyone. 

“That was lame.” Hermione laughed. 

I opened one eye to glare at her. “Considering I was blind I think they were ferocious.” I shot back. 

She laughed again. “Well I don’t know how late you stayed up, but it’s quarter to 9. Breakfast ends at 10.”

“I have so much time, why must you hurt me ‘Mione?” I huffed running a hand down my face. 

“Because Saturday is blueberry pancake day!” She said half singing. “Also I figured you would want to shower and get ready before we go to Hogsmede.” I groaned again but I knew she was right. I threw my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes before opening them, this time the brightness nor the redness of the room affected me. 

“What would I do without you?” I asked sitting up. Now in a seated position I could see my surroundings. I was laying longways on the couch, a robe sprawled over me like a makeshift blanket. Hermione stood behind me, her hands rested on the armrest that my head was just against.

“Probably dead, due to these two.” I couldn’t see her but I knew she was talking about the twins. I turned my head around and smiled at her. 

Squinting around the common room I could see George curled up in a loveseat by the fireplace, he sat sideways, his head against the back of the chair while his arms hugged one of his legs tightly to his chest, his other leg was thrown over the armrest. I giggled at the sight of him in such an unnatural position, it could not be comfortable with his long limbs. I searched the room for Fred. He wasn't in the other seats by the fireplace or the other couch pushed against the wall. 

My heart plunged into my stomach at the thought that he went up to his dorm, I wasn’t completely sure why it hurt me so much. It made sense for him to have left, but part of me just felt pained at the fact that George stayed and not him. Of course I liked George but not in the way I liked Fred. George was like a brother to me, he was a best friend. Fred was something more than that, not that he knew, I would never admit it to him much less our friends, but that didn’t stop the longing I felt for him, hoping that he felt the same way too. 

Finally I found him and all the doubts I had before were void upon seeing him. He laid on his stomach on the floor next to the couch. One arm under the pillow supporting his head that was facing me and the other thrown across the floor. He didn’t have a blanket on him and his robe wasn’t in sight. His hair was slightly brushed in his face and I had to refrain from leaning down and brushing it out of his eyes. I let out a small laugh realizing he was using the pillow that I threw at George the night before. 

Turning around again to Hermione I spoke again. “You’re completely right.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before exiting the common room muttering something about the work she needed to do that day. 

I stretched and readjusted, pulling my legs to my chest while figuring the best way to get up without disturbing Fred. I balled up the robe that was laid across me, still trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of the common room. 

There was a small space near his arm on the floor, taking it as my best shot to then jump around him. I carefully placed my foot down, making sure not to step on him. Shifting my weight onto that foot I began to move my other leg to go around his back. 

Slowly crouching to get some momentum I jumped, but before my foot could even leave the ground a strong arm grabbed my ankle. Taken by surprise I let out a small shriek before falling onto the couch and then sliding onto the floor. 

I was met with Fred, smirking at me with half lidded eyes. 

“Trying to sneak off with my robe are you?” He said smugly. His voice was deeper and raspier than it usually was and had an immediate effect on my body, my legs weakened and my face burned. I was thanking Merlin I was already sitting and flushed from the fall.

“What are you on about Weasley.” I whisper-yell at him. 

He released my ankle, something I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding until I felt uncharacteristically cold where his touch had been only moments ago. He used his now free hand to point at the balled up robes in my arms. 

“You did not just make me fall on my arse only to accuse me of stealing my robes!” I whisper yelled again, although a tad louder than last time. 

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your robes? I wasn’t aware we had joint custody over my clothing Y/L/N, but since you want them so bad I suppose you can keep them, red looks good on you by the way.” He shot me a wink at the end of his remark. His confidence and cockiness just upset me further. Although he was unnervingly annoying I couldn’t help the grin that split onto my face at his own stupidity. 

I rolled my eyes and unbunched the robes to show him the green that adorned them, but once they were unrolled I saw the red fabric. My eyes shot wide open, I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“But…” I couldn’t even form a whole sentence, this didn’t make sense. “You hexxed my robes!” I shot at him. It was the only logical conclusion I had come up to that he had planned this. 

The laugh he was holding back erupted from his mouth. His morning voice made it much deeper than his actual laugh. The rings of his laughter normally made my body hot but this was a whole new level. 

He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand up to my collar and tugged. Looking down I saw that I was still wearing my robes. Never took them off. 

I groaned and threw my face into my hands which only made him laugh harder. He peeled my hands away from my face and held them in his much larger ones. “I would never hex your clothes,” I could feel my face heat up at his words, the genuine tone and the lower octave of his voice sent shockwaves through my whole system. “At least not red, I’d make them purple!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I playfully swatted his shoulder. He knew that was my least favorite color. 

I stood up and threw his robes at his face. “See you in the Great Hall.” And with that I grabbed my shoes and walked out as quickly as possible. I could hear him still laughing as I got to the portrait hole but kept going trying to calm down and get the flush off my face, both from our proximity and embarrassment. 

-

I had thrown on my favorite muggle outfit. Going to Hogsmede was a tradition but the excitement was still there which qualified for a little dressing up. It wasn’t anything special, just plain light wash jeans, a white turtleneck and an oversized orange button up I managed to steal from the twins. All pulled together with a little accessorizing I thought I looked rather good. 

Walking out of my dorm and into the Slytherin common room there was an evident pep in my step. I was happy but a fool wouldn’t be. Stepping towards the exit of the common room someone just had to ruin my fun. 

“Not going out with the Weasels again are you Y/L/N?” Draco drawls. Turning I see him snickering with Crabbe and Goyle before standing and waltzing up to me, arrogant as ever. 

“What is it to you Malfoy?” I spit at him. I was not going to let him ruin today. 

“Well you got so pretty today, Weasleys do not know how to appreciate such expensive things, they can’t afford them, how would they know how to? You deserve someone who knows how and can express their appreciation in equally expensive ways.” He laughed out. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek. His touch made me cringe, his hands were cold and his demeanor was uninviting. Everything about him made me recoil. 

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down. “I hope you don’t mean someone like yourself Malfoy. I’m not sure how you even know how to use a hand like that, it looks as though it hasn’t done a day of work in its life. Is that something you are really proud of?” I threw my words at him like daggers. Steam rolling off of me. I could see him change under my glare, his confidence shrank and his anger grew, his relaxed expression was soon replaced by his snarl he adorned everywhere Harry was near, his back stiffened and his fists balled up. 

“Never, touch me again Malfoy.” I turned on my heel and stormed out. Before reaching the exit I thought of something though. 

“Future advice,” I turned again so I was facing him. He hadn’t moved and still looked at me venomously as before. He lifted an eyebrow at my comment, urging me to go on. “Money can’t buy consent.” 

His face darkened and I had to turn quickly to stop myself from all out laughing at him. I’m sure that if I stayed I could have watched him have his temper tantrum but frankly I wasn’t interested. My interest laid with the redhead waiting for me at the doors of the Great Hall. The same one who smiled at me as I walked up to him and poured my juice for me when we sat down. Fred Weasley had me totally, inconceivably, and utterly smitten, and I was completely ok with it. The harder I fell the sweeter it would feel when he caught me. 

Or I hoped. 

[hesther-mcg]

blue dragons, part one + chapter eight

➥ pairing: eventual asami x oc 

➥ summary: the one where azula trains ursa, and gets the shock of a lifetime; or the one where a picky spirit makes himself known for the first time in ages  

➥ rating: angst i suppose

➥ warnings: mentions of past abuse 

➥ a/n: mnmxcnvxn this took forever to get out bc life is cray cray, haha srry folks but here we are!! this is quite an interesting chapter in my opinion, i really love the dynamic between ursa and azula and giving azula this opportunity means a lot. also this is an introduction to a certain blue serpentine spirit OoOoOoOoOo

also for clarification purposes, when ursa’s eyes glow, it looks like the avatar state but blue ya know

p1, chap seven  p1, chap eight  p1, chap nine  blue dragons m. list

Frustration itched at every nerve in Ursa’s body, and she let out a huff. She swiped at her bangs that fell in her face as she paced back to the bench on the far side of the training yard. Her glass of watermelon juice was almost empty, and an added weight fell on her already sagging shoulders. She downed the rest of it and returned it to its spot, perhaps a little harshly, and shook her head. 

A growl escaped her mouth and she screamed as she shot a large stream of fire at nothing in particular. Unbeknownst to her, Azula lurked in the shadows behind her. She had watched the Crown Princess -only thirteen years of age- train for a short while, her determination admirable and patience thinning. The older woman could see the mistakes that were made, minor in severity and easy to fix with a little guidance. 

It had taken a long while for her to acknowledge the likeness between her and her young niece; she hadn’t wanted to and had adamantly denied it. But one day things just clicked, and she realized that Ursa looking like her, and thinking like her, and being as powerful as her wasn’t as bad as she thought. 

Because her father was long gone.  

What had happened to Zuko would never, in a million years, happen again, and what had happened to Azula surely wouldn’t either. Her older brother had proved himself to be an amazing father, and Izumi never once lived a day thinking she hadn’t made him proud. He never spoke down to her for being a girl, he never got angry because she couldn’t make up for it with bending, and he never used her for his own personal gain. 

All of which were things Azula had been subjected to in her childhood, and had ultimately feared her niece would be as well, but was relieved to see otherwise. Their father, and his legacy, was long gone; and only when she accepted that fact could she truly accept her own growth and healing. And only when she accepted those could she accept that Ursa had all of her best qualities, and some of her not so best qualities, and if they were nurtured and guided correctly she could be like no one else. 

“My, my, Princess; have you been out here all day?” Azula inquired as she emerged from the shadows and took slow steps to the aforementioned Princess, hands clasped behind her back and head held high just like always. 

“Hey, Auntie Zula,” Ursa sighed as she bowed before rising again. “Almost; I’m going over some of the advanced moves I learned, and I’ve almost mastered them all but I can’t seem to get this last one.” She shook her head. “I’m doing exactly what my Master did, and it’s still not right. I know I’m better than this.” 

“You are,” the older woman responded without missing a beat. She paced in front of her young niece. “You are better than this, this is but a mere moment in your path to mastering the element. You’re incredibly skilled, Ursa, never forget that. Before too much longer you’ll surpass your Master and they will no longer be able to do you any good. I was going to step in after that, but I can see that now is as good a time as ever.” 

“Really?” One would have to be deaf to miss the eagerness laced in her question. 

“Of course,” Azula turned sharply in place. “I know exactly what mistakes you’re making; though, it’s not your fault. I hate to tell you this, Princess, but your Master is a doofus.” The younger girl giggled from behind her hand. “Are you a dragon?” 

The question caught Ursa off guard. “Huh?” 

“Are you a dragon?” She repeated slowly. The look in her eyes was familiar, she had seen it in her father’s, grandmother’s, and great grandfather’s eyes many times before. She’d seen it in the mirror only once or twice; it was a look of true seriousness, one you could only get when, you might not know what you’re doing, but, you know that whatever it is you can do it. She tried her best to mimic it in her own matching eyes. 

“Yes. I am a dragon.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Azula stated smugly. “Only dragons can teach dragons, Ursa, and since The Great Dragon of the West is no longer with us, I only see it fitting that I take over as your Master. After all,” she raised one hand in front of her, and blue fire floated in her palm. “We do have twin flames.”  

The pair shared a smile before Azula extinguished the flame and returned her hand to its rightful place, clasped in the other behind her back. Ursa placed one hand, fingers straight and palm pointed to the side, above the other, which was closed in a fist. She bowed deeply, “thank you for teaching me, Sifu Azula.” She rose back up and turned away from her Master. She faced straight ahead, ready for anything. “What should I do first?” 

Lady Azula smiled to herself. “Your punches and kicks were good, but everything has room for improvement. You’re not putting enough power into your jump, and then not putting enough power in the flames. Let’s break it down. Take your stance.” 

Ursa positioned herself in the stance she normally chose. Her grandfather had shown it to her, and she figured out that it was the one that worked easiest with her dynamic. Her left foot forward, right foot behind her. Knees slightly bent. Arms out before her, elbows slightly bent as well. Palms open, fingers relaxed. Ready to strike. 

“Remember, firebending comes from the breath. Focus on the fire inside of you, and breathe in deeply; allow the air to reach the flames. Let your chi flow freely, the reason our fire burns blue is because it is pure. Your river is unblocked, your chi’s are synced and your power flows through you. Pure, clean, untethered fire. You have the power, be the thing that controls it.” 

Deep breaths. Unlocked chi’s. Flowing river. The Princesses eyes had long since closed, and she envisioned all the things her aunt spoke about. 

“Reposition,” Azula coaxed quieter, seeing the concentration on Ursa’s face. 

The girl’s hands formed fists, clenched tightly, and her left arm straightened itself out. Her right fist drew back and rested right beside her eyes. 

“Now, punch.” 

It was like time moved in slow motion Her eyes snapped open before narrowing into a squint. Her brows drew together and her face scrunched up. She lunged her right fist forward, stepping into the punch with her right foot; bringing as much power as she could for the opening attack. Her fists lit ablaze, encircled with blue, and she punched a rather large fireball straight ahead. Her grunts were barely audible over the loud swoosh of the flames. 

Ursa dealt one strike after the other, slowly making her way forward, sometimes ducking to avoid a blow from an imaginary opponent. “Kick,” Azula commanded loudly. 

One last punch before she kicked her right leg in a half circle, flames following closely.  They lingered in the air and Ursa spun around and shielded herself from view with more blue fire. “Now jump!” 

A moment passed, a moment where the older woman’s breath caught in her lungs. Then, before any particular emotion could truly settle in her bones, Ursa leapt out from the wall of blue flames, a look of ferocity painting her features. She landed on her feet and sprung forward not a moment later; she took one step, two steps, three...

And on her final step she jumped high in the air, and Azula’s voice cut through the noise, “Roar!” 

Flames from her feet propelled her upwards, a gust of blue, and the same shot out of her hands. Her face scrunched up as her cry echoed around the training yard, a stream of fire shooting out of her open mouth. Everything was blue, all Azula could see was blue. And all she could feel was heat. 

But what really shocked her, what really made her brows scrunch together and her jaw drop, was the Princesses eyes, once a piercing golden brown, were now completely blue. The fire around her swirled and moved until it started to take form. The form of a dragon.

Of course. Of course. It made sense, everything about her fit the role. 

“The Spirit of the Dragon…” She whispered in awe. It was a phenomenon that she never thought she would be alive to witness, and she would never tell a soul about the tears that filled her eyes as she watched her great niece display her sheer power. 

When the roar died down, and Ursa’s flames shrunk, and she dropped to the ground, her eyes fell shut and her knees gave out. She caught herself with her hands and shook her head. With a couple groans, and a few deep breaths she was back on her feet. 

“Holy shit.” A voice broke the silence. Azula turned around only to see her older brother; Zuko’s mouth hung open and his arms were limp at his side. 

“That-” the Princess cut herself off to catch her breath. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she chuckled lowly. Her eyes flickered from her great aunt and great grandfather. She didn’t know how to feel about what had just occurred. On one hand, she knew that her family would never think any different of her for anything, they had always told her that nothing could ever make them not love her; but on the other, insecurity and fear seemed like the obvious answer. 

What if they thought she was too powerful? What if they feared she would be the demise of the Fire Nation? She didn’t even know what took over her, what if it was something evil? What if, what if, what if- 

“Ursa,” Azula broke her train of thought. She snapped back to reality, heart in her stomach, and looked at the older woman. “Do you know what just happened?” Dread pricked at every nerve in her body and she shook her head. Her fingers began to tremble and she clenched her hands into fists to hide it. 

“That was the Spirit of the Dragon, my dear. A powerful spirit of the very first dragon; it has possessed only few people throughout history, not nearly as much as the Avatar, but hasn’t made itself known in centuries. My, Ursa,” Zuko marveled. “It chose you, how incredible.” 

“I’m not-I’m not in trouble?” She stuttered. 

“Of course not,” Azula shook her head and made her way to the girl, hands reaching out. They rested on her shoulders and she leaned down so their eyes met. “I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to worry. What happened to me will never happen to you, I promise you that. Do you know what the Spirit of the Dragon means exactly?” The girl shook her head before her aunt continued. 

“The Spirit of the Dragon, like Zuzu explained before, is a very powerful spirit. It has joined with numerous people over the course of time, merging with them and bestowing knowledge and strength upon them like no other. It can’t just be anybody, however,” she paused and looked over at the bench. She motioned to it with her hand and the three of them traveled to it together, and they made sure that Ursa sat in between them. “The kind of people that the Dragon Spirit chooses are powerful, people who are destined to do great things in this world. The power to stand up to people, for people, and with people is incredible. It might sound simple, but most people can’t say they passed the test. You did.” 

“We’ve known since the day you were born that you held incredible powers and an even more important destiny,” the older man took over. “But we never could have imagined this for you.” He chuckled lightly and shook his head. 

Azula took that as her cue to continue. “But we’ve never, ever, feared that you would do something wrong, or that you would be too powerful for your own good. And no matter what happens, to you or to us, and no matter what you have to go through, we’ll always be with you.” 

Ursa nodded her head and wiped her cheeks of any tears. Her eyes were red and swollen, but her hands no longer trembled and her shoulders only slightly shook as she calmed down. 

“Now,” Lady Azula stated, her tone back to the normal smooth and sharp drawl. “Are you a dragon?” 

“Yes.” Ursa looked at her and tried with everything she had to convey just how much she meant it. 

“Who are you?” The question cut through the air sharply, and a moment later the younger girl's eyes changed colors again, both glowing a bright blue. 

“I am Crown Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation, Heir to the Throne; I am the Dragon Princess and I have the power of the first dragon’s spirit!” 

➥ tag list: @talas-starlight  @ewanssdjarins  @appa-gaangnam-style  @strawberisapphic  @avatarsnips​  @graciefullygracie​

[jpegjade]

Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmares)

SO remember how i told you guys that the next fic was gonna be angsty fluff? well i present to you the angstiest thing i have yet to write. (i had to reel myself back. i definitely went angstier but i decided not to go there this early in the game) - and yes, the title is a kid cudi song. 

Request: Okay another request… and I know you love to write angst so how about something where the reader is having a hard time sleeping bc of nightmares and has been trying her best to keep it from Spence but he obviously knows and tries to help?

__________________

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of one Spencer Reid. A brilliant young man whose life was cut short by the grips of life.” Some priest said, standing at the front of a podium. 

You were outside, standing under a tent with a group of people. You tried to look at their faces but it was like everything was in a haze. The priest continued talking but it’s like his voice slowed down, almost as if he went underwater somehow. You looked down, seeing yourself in your funeral dress. Was this real? 

“And now a few words from his fiance.” The priest motioned to you. 

It’s like your body started moving on its own. You walked to the front of the tent, in front of everyone. Slowly, their faces came into view. One by one, you recognized who you were looking at and all of them were crying. Even his mom was there, crying just as hard as everyone else. There wasn’t a dry eye in the tent area. 

“My heart is broken... “ You began, not sure where the words were coming from. Even now, you weren’t sure what was really happening but you started to piece things together. “The love of my life…” You started sobbing, the words getting caught in your throat.

“The love of my life is gone, taken by a cruel excuse for a man. If I could trade my life for his, I would in a heartbeat. His bright eyes, loving smile, he deserves the world and every good thing in it. And now… Now, I can’t give it to him…” 

You turned, looking at the coffin. He looked so peaceful, like no bad thing could touch him anymore. And that was true. He was relieved of his pain and suffering. Pressing your lips to his forehead one last time, you whispered, “I love you now and forever.” 

You woke with a start. You were drenched in sweat and sobbing, although it didn’t feel like it. Your tears were mixed with sweat. You wrapped your arms around your torso, rocking yourself as you tried to calm down. Your heart raced and there was a painful ache in your body. Something was missing, an empty hole inside of you. You tried to breathe but it felt absolutely impossible. Your chest was so tight with fear that you didn’t think you would ever calm down. 

Slowly, you began to breathe normally again. The room stopped spinning and you were able to loosen up enough to go get a glass of water. Your footsteps were quiet but your body felt so heavy. You struggled to stand up straight at the weight on your shoulders. Filling up your cup with water, you checked the time on the stove. It was only 11 PM. You must have fallen asleep early for you to wake up at this time. A few swallows later, you were ready to get back in bed. 

What the fuck was that dream… Shit Spencer. If that wasn’t a dream, if that was a memory, you were going to lose it. 

It was only 11 so you knew Spencer would still be awake, if not wrapping up at the office. When you used to sleep over at his apartment, he would stay up late because he had a cup of coffee late in the day and the effects were still hitting him. The two of you would stay up talking until one of you dropped. Sometimes, the conversations were good, all about how he was basically a superhero and you were a goddess, according to him. 

‘Hey, angel.” You melted at the sound of his voice. He was okay. 

“Hey yourself. How was work?” You asked, trying to keep things nonchalant. You just needed to hear him talk for a little bit and then you would feel better about everything going on. 

“It was tiring. I’ve been doing desk work since I hurt my leg.” He said, pretending to be annoyed. Or maybe he was annoyed, you couldn’t tell. 

You completely forgot he hurt his leg for a moment. All you could think about was that dream… 

“Do you want to come over?” He asked, disrupting your thoughts. You were glad but you were unsure about this. What if you had another nightmare? 

“I don’t know about that, Spence. I’m a little too tired to drive.” That was the only excuse you would think of to not go. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to spend the night with you but I’m scared of falling asleep at the wheel.” 

“I like that you’re cautious. Well, I’m on my way home. Do you want me to swing by?” Spencer said, looking for a reason to stop by. 

“Only if you feel up to it.” You said, excited to have someone to help you stay awake. It would be easier to stay awake with your fiance there, right? 

20 minutes later, Spencer walked through your door. Immediately embracing you in a hug, he smelled of lavender and coffee. You weren’t sure how that worked but it did on him. 

“You’re always so cozy.” You said, face full of his sweater. It was beginning to be a long hug but you needed it. 

“Are you ready to actually let me inside?” Spence said, chuckling at the realization that it was becoming an extra long hug. 

“Inside of me or the apartment?” You laughed, finally letting go of him. 

“Your pick.” He said, smirking. 

“Get in here, you goofball.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside your apartment. 

The two of you laid on the couch, watching Doctor Who for a little while before you started to drift off to sleep. Your head in Spencer’s lap, legs up on the couch, Spencer just watched you drift to sleep, smiling at how rested you looked. 

“Spencer. Spencer, it’s me. You don’t have to do this. Please, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You pleaded, your fiance’s back turned to you. 

“I can’t, y/n.” Spencer was crying, hard. “There’s so much darkness inside of me and I can’t navigate it. I can’t understand how to get rid of it. Some genius I am, right?” 

“Baby, no.” You took a couple tentative steps closer to him. You didn’t want him to get scared. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. You say all these nice things about me and I can’t… I don’t understand.” He was still crying. That was a good sign. He still felt something. He wasn’t numb. 

“Spencer, listen to my voice. You’re not all dark, okay? That brilliant mind of yours isn’t going to figure it out if you give up now. Let me help you understand.” Your voice was hardly steady but it was just enough to keep him engaged. 

You kept inching towards him. Your hands were shaking still. You were almost there. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Spencer!” You yelled, bolting upright. 

You fell asleep. Shit. But Spencer wasn’t holding you anymore. You didn’t see him. You also weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in your bed, shaking. 

“Hmm? I’m right here.” Spencer said, turning over. He pulled you into his arms and held you as you explained your dreams and how they were backward.

“Spence, I’m afraid to go to sleep. I can’t handle you being taken away from me.” You sobbed, trying to slow down. 

“Hey, you’re not going to lose me at all. We’ve got plans and things to accomplish. I wouldn’t dare leave you to your own devices.” He chuckled. 

Hearing Spencer make light of the situation helped a little bit. You knew it was his way of helping you through the situation before he turned serious again. 

“Y/n, dreams are less about the future and more about the subconscious. Your fears manifest in two second bits of information but your brain slows it down to read the information. What you’re suffering from is common under high pressure or stressful situations. I know you’ve been suffering from nightmares for a little while. You don’t ever want to tell me these things but I find out eventually.” He said, pulling you tighter to his chest. 

You could hear his heart, slow and steady. The blood pumping in your ears started to get quieter the more he spoke. 

“You’ve been sleepless for at least a week. You’ve been wearing more make-up to cover up the dark circles and exhaustion. You have had an excuse not to sleep over at my place for a little while. Your clothes are always wrinkled and you have been more forgetful lately because you’re so tired. I haven’t said anything because I wanted to give you space to figure it out since I know you’ll call me when you feel like I can help.” He paused. 

“You know I’m here for you, right?” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

“I know. But it’s so hard… I thought I had this under control.” You sighed, wrapping your arm around Spencer. 

“Baby, you have to ask for help sometimes. You have to know that some things aren’t going to happen because there’s no way in hell I would leave you. The only thing I’m sorry for right now is that I didn’t step in sooner. I didn’t think it would get this bad…” Spencer got progressively quieter the more he talked. 

“Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I feel like you have enough to worry about. I want to be the sunshine in your life, the thing you look forward to seeing because I bring you joy.” You sighed. 

“I know. But you don’t have to do anything to give me that feeling, sunshine.” He said, smiling. “I come home to the most beautiful, smart, incredible girl in the world every day, when I’m not on trips, that is.” He chuckled. 

“Spence… You’re too sweet.” You said, burying your face into his chest. You didn’t even realize he was shirtless until you lifted your head and put it back down on his chest. 

“Sweet like sugar.” He said. He smirked in the low light of the lamp on your bedside table. 

“Spencer, that light was in my living room. Did you move it?” You asked, wondering why he would do something like that. 

“When I have nightmares, I find that it’s easier to get my bearings when I can see what’s around me. In the dark, anything can happen. In the dark, the monsters come out. But in the light, you’re able to see that you’re safe. So I moved it so you can wake up and recognize you’re safe with me.” Spencer said. 

“You’re the best, you know that?” You said, getting sleepy again. 

“And you’re mine.” He said, followed by a yawn. 

There was something different about when you fell asleep this time. You had more control, felt more peaceful and less nervous. You were able to breathe again knowing that Spencer was right there with you. For the first time in a little while, you were able to get a peaceful couple hours of sleep.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

might be a weird request but an angsty fic of calum & reader r dating at a party but cal’s been givin the silent treatment cuz the reader did smth clumsy and cal got mad & they argue & at the party a drunk dude is all on her & she’s tipsy/mad/throws a drink on him & ends up bein a big fight & the band hears & sees the guy slap her causing calum go crazy feels guilty bc he wasn’t with her & the band protect her & kicks him out, fluff at the end insp: snooki getting slapped on jersey shore djjdkd

Fine - C. Hood

TRIGGER WARNING: NON CONSENSUAL SEXUAL TOUCHING AND VIOLENCE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS COULD TRIGGER YOU BECAUSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS IMPORTANT!!

I love this idea and I had to watch that video like seven times to get inspiration. I hope you like it! I couldn’t think of a plot for so long!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

There was something off with Calum. No rhyme, no reason, no explanation for his bad attitude, just random bursts of anger that led to venomous words falling off of his tongue.

Y/N hadn’t seem him actually happy in a while, and she had no idea what caused his outbursts.

She had been dealing with it, but the more he snapped, the harsher he was. She was starting to really dislike being around him, even more so, being at their shared house.

She had a breaking point, but he hadn’t yet hit it, until one Thursday night she had the girls over while the guys had a night out.

The wine had been passed around and they were all a little buzzed by the time the men returned home.

Shit truly hit the fan when Y/N gestured widely with her glass in hand.

She was always a clumsy person, that was no secret, and usually Calum would tolerate it with a smile on his face.

Until she spilled red wine all over Ashton’s white shirt. Everybody laughed it off, except for Y/N.

She rushed around trying to get the liquid out of the shirt it threatened to stain, and the minute her hands lingered on Ashton’s chest for a minute too long, Calum’s insecurities went haywire.

But in true Calum fashion, he refused to mention it to her until she noticed he was giving her the silent treatment after everybody had left for the night.

“Okay, enough,” she threw the cloth she was holding. “What have I done wrong now?”

Her tone was stern. She was sick of his random outbursts and bouts of silence. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way and she was determined to let him know that.

“Nothing,” came his curt response as he directed a look towards her that told her not to push it.

But she was never one for listening.

“No, Calum. I’m sick of this.” Her jaw was set as she folded her arms across her chest.

He let out a snide laugh, and her heart sank at the sound.

She had no idea what had gotten into Calum, but she really hated it. He was a boatload of insecurities and he took them all out on her.

“What do you have to be sick of? You sure looked fine when you were all over my best mate,” he rolled his eyes, setting his jaw to match hers.

“You’re joking!” She laughed louder than she should have, completely intent on reciprocating the sarcasm dropping from his tongue. “I was trying to clean his shirt, but oh no, I’m guessing in your mind, I want him!”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” he mumbled under his breath, turning to walk away from her.

“What did you just say?” She gaped.

He was scared of losing her. It was no excuse, but he was so terrified of her finding love in another and it made his insecurities flare up. He had been hurt many times before, and he was preparing himself for the worst.

He just didn’t realize how far he was pushing her.

She grabbed onto his shoulder and spun him around to face her.

“What did you say,” she spoke through a clenched jaw. She had enough. She was sick of being made to feel as if she couldn’t be around any other male.

“I said, it wouldn’t surprise me,” he spat and he watched as her face fell slightly.

She shook her head, puffing her cheeks as she did so.

“You are ridiculous, Calum.” Her hands were on her hips and her brows were set in fury, “So first, it was random bullshit that you had a bad day and decided to take it out on me, then you were jealous, and now you’re accusing me of wanting to be with somebody else?”

Her eyes were wide and he offered her no answer, instead choosing to clench and un-clench his jaw while looking anywhere but at her.

“News flash, Calum!” She was shouting now. It wasn’t the first time he had accused her of something similar, “I’m not going to cheat on you, or leave you or whatever! You can trust me!”

He wanted to feel sad, almost hurt that he caused such pain to seep into her tone, but all he saw was red.

“How can I trust you? How can I trust you when you were all over him tonight? Huh?”

The limit was hit. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine, you don’t trust me, then get out.”

There was no room for argument. She disappeared upstairs as he scoffed behind her, collecting a bag full of his clothes and throwing it out onto the front lawn.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m not leaving,” his heart started to hammer along in his chest.

She was calm. A scary sort of calm that sent sweat pooling on his heavy palms.

“I’m not staying in a house with somebody who can’t trust me, Calum.” She blinked, grabbing his keys and snatching the door to their house off of the ring before tossing the car keys to him. “Get out.”

They went back and forth until ultimately, Calum was knocking on Michael’s front door with tears in his eyes.

She was beyond angry with Calum and in pain over the argument with Calum. They hadn’t spoken since.

Unfortunately, the same weekend after she kicked him out, the guys and their significant others were at her house for a celebratory party.

One of their songs had become number 1 in some country. She was far too tired to remember. Especially after Calum had walked in.

She expected to see him, but she didn’t expect the pain that came along with the sight of her boyfriend.

Thankfully, there were more than enough people to successfully help her evade him, but not enough to keep her away from the man who wouldn’t stop chatting her ears off.

His name, Steve maybe? She couldn’t remember. The amount of alcohol running through her veins made sure of it, and she was sure she stopped his intoxicated chatter at least 5 times to ask him for his name.

In her drunken state she managed to catch Calum’s eyes from across the room and she saw his flare once he saw the man standing beside her.

Fingers clicking in her face pulled her attention away from her boyfriend.

“Are you even listening?” A gruff voice asked. It wasn’t the attractive kind of gruffness, like how Calum’s voice is when he first wakes up, but more of a voice tainted by years of cigarette smoke, and alcohol abuse, following a naturally irritating tone.

She smiled at him, intending to return to politely listening to him ramble about his high paying but low effort job.

“Sorry, I saw somebody and got distracted,” she slurred, leaning against the table and rubbing her head. Unknowingly giving the man a perfect view of her cleavage if he were to look hard enough.

A gross smirk worked onto his face and Y/N jumped as his hand connected with her backside.

“Excuse me-“

“Let’s go up to a room, yeah?” His eyes were heavy, and she flinched as he wrapped an arm round her shoulder, roughly groping the flesh he has clasped in his other hand.

“No thank you, I have a boyfriend,” she dug her heels into the ground as he tried to pull her along with him, and she could faintly see Calum’s eyes bore into the two of them.

The man scoffed, “And? I’ve got a dog at home but I still gave the little rat you’ve got upstairs a pat.”

“What did you just say about Duke?” Her anger intensified, her drunken state more worried about defending her dog than focusing on his sleezy proposition.

His hands moved up her waist, brushing her boobs as they continued up.

She shivered at the contact, feeling sick to her stomach.

“Get your hands off of me, you dog hater!” without thinking, she lifted the hand she held her cup in and threw it in the mans face.

He went silent for a moment, barely allowing her heart to beat once before she connected with the ground. Her cheek was throbbing, tears pricking her eyes.

She could barely register the commotion around her, as a head of brown curls flew towards the man and tackled him to the ground.

Three more figures rushed to pull him off of the man, and she couldn’t stop herself from clambering towards him when she saw it was Calum.

Ashton grabbed the man by the neck, dragging him towards the front of the house as Luke yelled at everybody to leave.

“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you,” Calum cooed.

She could barely think of why she was mad at him. In that moment, all she could focus on was the pain in her cheek and the feeling of his arms around her.

He ordered somebody to bring him ice, before pulling her up the stairs to their bedroom. The same one she had slept in on her own for the past couple of nights.

Except for whoever delivered the ice, they were alone in the room. Duke worked his way onto the bed to lay in his owners lap as Calum inspected her face.

“M’sorry,” she whispered into the air, her head feeling as if it were swaying. The ache intensifying from where she hit the ground.

“What for, baby?” He asked, pressing a package of frozen peas to her cheek.

“That guy touched me. Maybe he thought that I want to cheat on you like you do,” she was slurring her words. The whiskey in her blood was not doing her any favors as she tried to communicate with her boyfriend. “I don’t want to cheat on you. I love you too much, you insecure bastard.”

He snorted at the seriousness in her tone. She was observing him with a purpose.

Her mouth was moving, lacking the filter provided from her brain.

“How could anybody want to cheat on you? Have you seen you? You’re hot as fuck.” Her words were slightly muffled by the bag of peas. “I’m sorry I ruined the party. I didn’t want him to hit me.”

Calum put his hands on either side of her face, making sure to watch her cheek.

“Baby, you didn’t ruin the party.”

“But everybody left-“

“And? I don’t care about everybody else,” Calum’s eyes bore into her bleary ones, and he struggled to think of why he felt so insecure in their relationship. “I care about you, and only you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you tonight, love. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

He truly felt horrible. If he were with her, he could have kept her safe. He could have kept that sleezy guy away from her. Kept his hands off of her.

“S’okay, Cal.” She grinned behind the bag of peas, “You showed him whose boss!”

Her drunken state wasn’t the most ideal for them to discuss the issue of the past few weeks, but he made a note to do so in the morning.

He knew deep in his heart that she loved him, and it was about time he grew up and put trust into her as she did with him.

“I’m sorry he touched me,” she pouted looking down at her body. “His hands felt gross. Yours are better.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close to him.

“He won’t touch you again, baby. I promise you.”

“Thank you, macho man,” she relaxed against him, letting her eyes fall shut with a sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Also,” she sat up, letting the bag fall from her face. “If you tell me you don’t trust me again, then you can walk that fine ass out the door and I’m keeping our son.”

He chuckled softly at her, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the reminder of his disgusting words.

“Okay, Lizzo. I promise, I trust you,” she kissed him quickly, pulling back to let him continue talking. “My fine ass isn’t going anywhere unless your fine ass is right beside me, promise.”

“I do have a fine ass, don’t I?” She beamed at him.

[bakugoubabygirl]

           okay before I start she going to choose one. Don't worry if its not the one you wanted her to choose bc its going to be  a Roller coaster  of emotions and a lot of back and forth for awhile  BC I FUCKING LOVE BOTH  OF THESES BOYS. also  there will be smut soon and it wont be vanilla .  

                                                        YOUR POV

          "Lets go before they find us" I whispered tugging on Bakugou arm.  He didn't say a word and followed me.  " Lets get some food at the stand" I gave him smile. Bakugou followed me he seem kind of moody though more moody then usual .           " Are you going to say yes?" Was he asking about tododroki. I didn't give much thought to that . I like him  a lot but if I was being honest with myself i had feelings for someone else.       " I dont know I like him a lot and i think it would be amazing. But i also think I have feelings for someone else. To be fair they haven't shown no sign of returning this feeling. Maybe I ought to say yes and forget about the other guy like that" I admitted.        " Who is this other guy" He asked. Why was he so damn interested and how can i tell him its him.         "Not telling" I felt my face getting red. Next thing I Knew I was getting pinned against a wall.           " Tell me" He growled. Why was this bothering him so much. If only he knew that telling him would ruin our friend ship . He would never look at me the way I look at him. because I was made to  be the villan.  Bakugou strive to be perfect at everything and I was not perfect.           " Bakugou Its you stupid" Then I broke free from his grasp . I didn't want t o know his reaction or have him mocked me. I hurried and disappear into the crowd.    Still haven't found any thing to eat my tummy started growl. When I heard my name being called out, The next thing I knew someone dragged me off  somewhere quite. I'm so sick of being pulled around today. It was my dad, Honestly I was relived that it  wasn't Bakugou .        " Hey  I know you and how your going to give it all but You need to make sure your head is clear. Ive been studying and your powers  feed off you emotions.  I want to make sure you have a clear head" he said worriedly .  OH god I'm screwed my head is far  from clear.         "  Yeah I'm not focusing on anything right now except for winning" I said and I fake smiled.          " that's Great I Know your going to make me proud. I may be rooting midoryia but Your my number one and I hope you win more." He smiled. Pulled me and for a hug.           " Thank you dad and don't worry Ill cut all there throats open" I laughed.      Then it was time to to go back to the arena.  Time  to face bakugou mental and physical . I think mentally would be harder to do.  Midnight call me and bakugou to fight first.  I try not to think about what had conspire between us earlier. I need to focus to keep my head cleared.              We both step into the ring. Bakugou goes to attack me and I dodge it just in time. Then I Blast one of my purple fire balls at him and he dodge to . This was really upsetting, and I  Take one of my shadow hands out and it wraps around his body. I started to think about how he never loses. He was perfect and every way and would make a fine super hero one day.   something you'll never be  the voice was back again.  

                                                 Bakugou  POV

She had her hand wrapped around me. I  had to escape and then I saw  Her starting to levitate off the ground. Her eyes flash purple there was a gasp from the crowd.  She slam hard into the ground  with the shadow hand. She was Going to kill me.        I jump up and fired another explosion at her this time using more force.  She shield it and then made a big shadowy fist at the ground causing it to erupt . I almost fell but then I caught my balance.  This time I used my full force now that I knew it wouldn't hurt her too bad.       The explosion was so big she couldn't shield it. She was on the ground and lay there for several of seconds.  I walked over her to see if I have won and if she was okay. She started to get back up again and she grabbed a whole of me again.      She grabbed me so tight with the shadow arm I couldn't breath.  My face started to turn purple I was pretty sure I was going to die.  The crowed was screaming to let me go But she wouldn't listen.   " Y/n Please let me go I cant breathe" I try to say but she didn't hear or listen. She wouldn't do this on purpose.  Something was seriously wrong . this was not her. " Y/n Please I love you" at that point I didn't fucking care if the whole crowed thought I was a simp . I love her and I need her to came back. Her eyes turn back to e/c when I said that.    " Bakugou" she gasps and then dropped me. I could barley move I'm pretty sure she won but she just stared at me. Her eyes started to tear up. " I give up" she yelled. Then ran out of the arena . They announced me winner and The nursing girl came to heal up my minor wounds.  I was livid that I won that way. She threw the fight.

                                                                   Y/N POV

     I Brought shame on my dad and my school. I brought shame on myself. The whole world watch it happen too. They watch me turn into a monster. I almost killed bakugou and He never going to want anything to do with me again. I sat outside the stadium on the ground.  I'm no hero I cant even go and face what I done.       I must of sat there for hours and hours. It was finally dark and everyone left. it started  to  pour down rain.   I decided to go back into the arena to pick up my bag and stuff.  It was dark except for a couple security lights. I found my bag when I heard a familiar voice.       " Tch where did you go?" Bakugou asked. Was he still talking to me.        " heard you won congratulation"  I gave him a smile. The air was so cold I could see my own breath. 

                                            BAKUGOU POV 

 " THATS NOT HOW I WANTED TO WIN" he yelled. " YOU GAVE UP THAT FIGHT WAS YOURS"        " I almost killed you .  I was created for one reason and one reason only. The whole now know so to. I let you guys down and I let my dad down. How can I be the princess of peace when I cant even find peace in my own head.  I'm done," I said  tears started to pour out my eyes.        " IF i was the bad guy you would of won. Your powerful and just because its hard your going to pack up then Your not who I thought you were " he scoffed.         " I almost kill you and maybe next time I will. I care about you too much for that to happen" I cried. I started to turn away.  He grabbed my wrist and pulled me agaisnt him.        " I know you wont. You stop because your good and you over came it. we just have to work on it. Please stay if not for yourself then the million you could save with that power.         " I dont know how I stopped myself. All I remeber is blacking out and then waking to see me almost killing youself." I explain.             " I said something to you and then you just snapped out of it" He said nervously .              " Oh well what did you say" I asked.  This could help me find the answer.      " I told you I Love you"  He blushed. This was a side of him I never seen before. I think im falling to. Todoroki was important to me but in the end bakugou been here.  I wasnt sure if I was ready to say it back. I grabbed his face and kiss him. He started kissing back first it was soft but then its starts to get more rough and passionate. He grabbed my ass and pulled me agaisnt him. despite the freezing rain , I felt warm.               He pulled away but remain eye contact with me as he pulled something out of his of his jacket. It was a small box and he handed it to me. " I wanted to give this to you when I ask you out after I won the festival correctly . That didn't go as I plan but I still want to win your heart. please accept this and be my girl. I never done this soft shit and I'm sorry if it not something I'm going to show everyday. Your worth taking my pride down a little I guess" His face was red.       I open it up and it was a sliver bracelet with his name on it and diamonds. It was beautiful and way too much. I had no idea what to say. " Yes Ill be yours" he pulled me into a tight  hug.      " lets go to my place you need to get out of the rain and getting late" he said gently. It almost scared me the way he was being so kind.                                                                      Bakugou POV         We arrived at my place. She look like she was about to past out. Today was a lot on all of us. I didn't really won the sports festival but at least I won the girl. I just got to keep that damn icy hot away from her. I wanted to rip the necklace off of her that he gave her. She mine now.        " Hey you stupid bitch your late" my mom bitch. No good job bakugou or nothing.         " Fuck you too hoe" I said back flipping her off. She was about to really yell, until she saw Y/n  come in after me.             " Hey Y/n nice to see you again. I saw you tonight you should of just kill him and not worry about it' she laugh. The fucking old hag meant as a joke. Y/n face turn white though.  I grabbed her hand and lead her up to my bedroom. She seem like she was still half in a daze.        " Lets get out of these wet clothes. You can wear anything of mine for now." I said awkwardly. I knew we were dating but I didn't know her boundaries . There so much I want to do with her. She needed sleep tonight though. we both did.   she started to strip off in my room.  Oh, she wasn't paying attention to anything really. I couldn't help but to watch in amazement though. She took  off her clothes and strip down till she was naked. I had to use all my self control to not do anything. then she put on one of my T-shirts that looked like a dress on her and then a pair of my boxers.  I strip down to nothing and but my boxers and laid on my bed.     " come here princess" I yawned. She crawled into bed and laid on top of me. She feel asleep instantly but then here phone started going off. I  Pick it up and looks at it.  Deku: hey are you alright. Me and your dad are really worried.    Damn deku fucking worrying about my girl. I didn't want to give her a dad the pro hero a reason to hate me though. Me: yeah I'm fine just staying at a friend house. I'm really sleepy so I'm going to go to bed.   Then there was other messages on the screen so I looked. Todo: hey  Y/n I'm so worried about you. When you see this please answer and I was wondering if we could meet up tomorrow to talk about today and I have something I wanna ask you. I hope your safe and sleeping well beautiful. Oh hell  no. She mine and he going to back the fuck off.  I took a pictures of her sleeping on my chest and I sent it. Me: she mine and she sleeping fine thank you. Back the fuck off  she mine now!!!!!! Todo: I see for now that may be it. I don't give up and I especially wont stop until she mine. You well slip and when you do ill be there for her. Your impulsive and abusive and don't deserve her. Me: You come any where near her your dead I blocked his number from her phone.  I wrapped my arms tight around her and I pass out.    The sun filled the room waking me up. She was still asleep. She was so beautiful and peaceful when she sleep.  Her phone started buzzing causing her to wake.   " Where my phone" she sat up straight looking for it. I handed it to her. The number didn't have a caller id. She scrunch her nose in confusion.     " Hello who is this " she answered.      " Todoroki, are you alright?" I heard him answered.  Great rich boy has more then one phone.     " Yes, what happen to your old phone number?"      " Long story, where are you at?"     " Bakugou house, why whats wrong?" she asked worriedly     " Ill be there In 20" he said and then hung up.  " Do you have anything else I can where by chance?" she asked   " I think you look fine in that Idiot" I snorted grabbing her wait.   " I cant go out like this" she said digging though the bag of mina and kiri clothes that they leave here.      " Your not going anywhere with him and no way in hell wearing that" She hold up a short pink dress of mina. Mina was shorter then Y/n so this dress was gonna not cover anything. She took off my shirt and put on the dress anyways not listening to me at all.    She grabbed my hair brush and tied it back out her face. she look stunning even though she didn't try and its for him.  " I fucking mean it your not going anywhere with him" I yelled.   " Chill out you have to trust me. He one of my friends and I'm yours so don't worry" she said try reassuring me. I almost lost her to him though. He going to try all Kinds of flirty shit. I cant be okay with this but I have too. She will leave if I'm too controlling.   " One hour then come back" I grumbled.  " I have to go home afterwards and talk to my dad" She sigh. She was right even though I wanted some time with her. The door bell ring and I hurried up to open it. IT was half and half baster.   " Leave your hands off of her and no flirty shit or I will Murder you" I screamed and then Y/n push me put of the way. I grabbed her and kiss her so fucking hard in front of him. She push me away and laughed.     " I'm sorry about him" she said. Walking out of the door with him. I kept trying to talk myself out of following them. I decided to invite shitty hair over to distract me.

IM open up to ideas and or request for my one shot books I'm doing. Thank you for read part 7 will be here Thursday at the latest

[medicifm]

*  not  me  actually  writing  an  intro  the  night  before  like  i  always  mean  to  😳  hennyway  hey  biddies  ,  i'm  chloe  ,  im  in  the  snowy  part  of  pst  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pns  .  i’ve  been  . . . . . . .  scouring  the  tags  for  an  rp  like  this  so  im  so  excited  to  bring  this  newish  muse  of  mine  here  !   im  here to  do  the  honours  of  introducing  my  himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside  . . .  oscar  🤡

(  twenty  three , cis  man , he / him  ) ✉ ― hey  babes , have  you  met  OSCAR  MEDICI ?  they’re  working  here  as  THE  HEAD  CHEF  AT  LORENZO’S ,  a  few  villas  down  from  where  you’re  staying  .  you  might  hear  them  singing  ALRIGHTY  APHRODITE  BY  PEACH  PIT  playing  from  their  villa  ,  it’s  their  favourite  song  .  yes  ,  they  hear  that  they  look  like  JACK  GILINSKY  a  lot  ,  actually  -  it’s  really  uncanny  .  their  friends  back  home  in  SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA  say  that  if  they  were  on  a  tv  show  ,  their  trope  would  be  THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP’S  CLOTHING  ,  how  funny  is  that  ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢  .

pinterest  |  wanted  plots  |  

𝐢𝐢  .

name  :  oscar  gabriel  medici

age  :  twenty  three

dob  /  sign  :  december  4th  ,  1997  /  sagittarius  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  libra  rising 

pob  :  sydney , australia

gender / pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he / him / his

career :  head  chef  at  lorenzo’s  ,  full - time  heathen  ,  professional  disappointment  for  mothers  everywhere  .

drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / more  often  than  he’d  admit / never .  

religion  :  jewish  background  ,  currently  non - practicing .

physical  :  jack  gilinsky  fc ,  dark  brown / black  longish  curls  (  reference  )  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  canon  jack  g’s  tattoos  ,  no  piercings  ,  6′2″  ,  175  lbs  ,  lean  but  strong  .  tattoos  a  la  canon!jack  ,  pearly  white  smile  that  he  may  . . .  or  may  not  . . .   use  crest  3D  white  strips  weekly  to  maintain  .  lots  of  burns  &  scars  from  kitchen  mishaps  on  his  hands  &  arms  .

traits  :  hard - working  ,  flighty  ,  intelligent  ,  hedonistic  ,  charismatic  ,  intense  ,  volatile  ,  

other  :  speaks  weird  french  (  aussie  accent  tings  )  ,  tans  easily  but  wears  sunscreen  nonetheless  ,  works  hard  parties  harder  ,  can’t  read  a  lick  of  french  but  spends  a  lot  of  his  free  time  with  a  coffee  &  a  new  paperback  ,  has  a  bit  of  an  internal  vendetta  against  rich  people  (  for  no  real  reason  ,  he  just  doesn’t  like  most  of  them  )  ,  has  ins  with  a  bunch  the  local  farmers  &  visits  them  weekly  ,  pretends  he  isn’t  lowkey  addicted  to  nicotine  administered  via  a  puff  bar  ,  liquor  of  preference  is  tequila  or  red  wine  ,  drives  a  lil  vespa  around  town  for  the  gag  of  it  (  loves  seeing  it  haphazardly  parked  amongst  a  bunch  of  luxury  cars  )  ,  

character  inspo  :  jess  mariano  (  gilmore  girls  )  , gordon  ramsey  🤡 ,  patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢  .

oscar’s  arrival  was  as  unwanted  to  his  parents  as  could  be  :  a  father  whose  tendencies  leaned  towards  alcoholism  &  abusing  whoever  was  in  arms  reach  ,  a  mother  whose  life  was  more  or  less  spent  at  the  nursing  home  she  worked  as  a  nurse  at  ,  evading  home  .  he  became  a  self - inflicted  loner  ,  preferring  to  do  literally  the  exact  opposite  of  what  was  expected  or  wanted  from  him  .  he  had  a  few  friends  he  ran  with  ,  but  watching  them  all  go  off  &  study  or  prepare  for  university  solidified  in  oscar’s  mind  that  the  non - traditional  route  was  for  him  .  growing  up  by  the  water  ,  oscar  always  felt  more  drawn  to  skip  school  &  head  to  the  beach  than  he  did  obeying  his  parents  wishes  .   

one  of  his  solaces  was  his  grandfather  ,  gabriel  ,  who  owned  an  italian  restaurant  in  a  beach  town  north  of  sydney  .  whenever  the  weather  was bad  &  oscar  felt  like  ditching  class  ,  he’d  head  over  to  his  nono’s  restaurant  where  his  ass  would  be  put  to  work  as  soon  as  he  set  eyes  on  the  restaurant  .  it  was  tough  work  ,  but  challenging  in  a  way  that  fanned  the  flames  in  oscar’s  heart  ,  rather  than  dimming  them  .  by  the  time  he was  a  teenager  he  was  working  in  the  restaurant  everyday  after  school  , an  agreement  between  him  &  his  grandfather  framed  on  the  back  wall  that  stated  that  as  long  as  oscar  kept  from  flunking  out  ,  he  was  allowed  to  spend  as  little  or  as  much  time  in  the  kitchen  as  he  pleased .  

his  absolute  defiance  of  anything  traditional  &  following  the  rules  made  him  unpopular  with  adults  ,  but  lowkey  cool  with  the  girls  .  by  the  time  he  was  sixteen  ,  he  was  losing  his  focus  on  the  restaurant  &  his  grades  &  spending  more  &  more  time  chasing  after  girls  .  his  nono  tried  to  get oscar  to  come  back  &  focus  ,  but  as  always  ,  anything  he’s  asked  to  do  quickly  becomes  the  thing  he’s  running  from  the  most  .

tw  :  death  ,  cancer  .  around  his  eighteenth  birthday  ,  his  grandfather  suddenly  fell  ill  with  a  rare  form  of  cancer  that  took  his  life  six  weeks  after  diagnosis  ,  which  rocked  oscar’s  world  .  he  felt  overwhelming  guilt  that  he  hadn’t  spent  more  time  with  his  grandfather  ,  which  manifested  itself  as  oscar  dropping  out  of  school  a  year  shy  of  graduation  to  commit  himself  fully  to  perfecting  his  grandfather’s  techniques  ,  learning  all  of  his  recipes  (  read  :  pouring  over  dozens  of  handwritten  cookbooks )  in  some  failed  attempt  to  get  back  some  time  with  him  .  oscar  hadn’t  been  close  with  his  parents  in  years  ,  more  or  less  seeing  them  as  wardens  of  a  prison  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  .  his  grandfather’s  will  left  him  the  deed  to  the  restaurant  ,  with  an  ask  that  oscar  would  promise  to  act  on  whatever  he  felt  called  towards  ,  rather  than  doing  what  others  expected  of  him  .  to  be  candid  ,  this  whole  situation  crushed  him  .

eventually  ,  he  decided  he’d  had  enough  of  the  stifling  community  he’d  grown  up  in  .  he  sold  the  restaurant  to  one  of  the  regulars  ,  a  wealthy  man  who  he’d  come  to  acknowledge  as  somewhat  of  an  uncle  ;  a  safe  pair  of  hands  who  would  treat  his grandfather’s  legacy  with  as  much  passion  &  respect  as  oscar  himself  would  .  so  he  packed  a  bag  ,  texted  his  mom  that  he  was  going  traveling  ,  &  got  on  a  flight  that  evening  .  he  traveled  all  around  -  first  through  central  america  ,  then  through  europe  ,  throughout  asia  &  africa  ,  &  spent  a  few  months  driving  a  van  across  the  continental  united  states  &  canada  for  fun  . 

eventually  ,  he  started  getting  low - ish  on  money  ,  &  decided  to  settle  in  one  of  his  favourite  places  he’d  visited  :  southern  france  .  he  arrived  in  early  2018  ,  taking  on  whatever  menial  tasks  he  could  while  learning  french  until  he  got  a  position  as  a  line  cook  in  an  italian  restaurant  .  a  few  years  later  ,  he’s  made  his  way  up  to  filling  the  head  chef  position  ,  an  honour  he  takes  with  pride  .  he’s  implemented  many  of  his  own  recipes  while  using  flavours  he’s  learned  from  his  travels  ,  with  ingredients  straight  from  local  farmers  .  he’s  earned  the  restaurant  a  two michelin  star  rating  ,  &  is  constantly  striving  for  more  to  get  that  last  star  (  both  for  his  own  ego  as  well  as  a  secret  debt  to  his  grandfather  )  .

𝐢𝐯  .

ok  but  that  vid  where  gordon  puts  two  pieces  of  bread  on  someone’s  head  &  calls  them  an  idiot  sandwich  ?  that’s  oscar  .  intense  as  fuck  in  the  kitchen  ,  &  best  nobody  catch  an  attitude  about  it  bc  he  will  not  hesitate  to  hand  them  their  ass  on  a  silver  platter  .

another  gordon  reference  :  you  know  how  he’s  the  spawn  of  satan with  adults  ,  but  the  sweetest  ,  most  helpul  guy  with  children  ?  that’s  oscar  with  his  staff  vs  people  he  wants  something  from  .  whether  its  to  sleep  with  them  (  usually  his  first  instinct  to  be  fair  )  ,  their  money  or  clout  ,  or  to  get  into  some  wild  adventure  some  random  resort  staff  wouldn’t  dream  of  getting  into  ,  he  can  turn  on  the  charm  whenever  needed  .

can  go  from  absolutely  demoralizing  someone  in  the  kitchen  to  stepping  out  into  the  lounge  to  schmooze  with  his  friends  or  cougars  who  leave  phat  tips  in  0.2  seconds  .  the  speed  at  which  his  mood  can  completely  180  is  one  of  the  seven  world  wonders  (  last  i  checked  )  .

his  love  language  is  absolutely  acts  of  service  .  catch  him  actually  falling  in  love  once  in  a  blue  moon  &  making  it  his  mission  to  cook  her  extravagant  meals  everyday  .  

the  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  label  epitomizes  his  nice  ,  helpful  ,  charismatic  exterior  ,  while  ulterior  motives  &  disdain  for  those  who  grew  up  with  more  money  than  he  did  lurk  beneath  the  surface  . 

he  can  be  MEAN  when  someone  fucks  him  over  or  pushes  him  farther  than  he  wants  -  isn’t  afraid  to  go  for  the  low  blows  or  send  someone  home  with  an  identity  crisis  if  it  protects  himself  .

lowkey  alcoholic  but  he’s  not  ready  for  that  conversation  yet  .  he  sees  it  more  as  perks  of  the  location  &  atmosphere  he’s  found  himself  in  .

also  lowkey  falls  in  love  HARD  ,  like  this  man  is  a  closeted  romantic  but  self - sabotages  all  potential  relationships  before  they  can  get  to  that  point  out  of  fear  he’ll  be  unable  to  live  life  of  his  own  volition  (  takes  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  to  know  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  🤡  )  .  has  probably  only  had  a  few  real  relationships  besides  flings  bc  he’s  afraid  .

𝐯  .

check  out  my  wanted  plots  tag  listed  here  ,  as  well  as  my  pinterest  wanted  plots  board  here  .  here   are  some  other  suggestions  hehe  :

best  friend  /  ride  or  die  :  someone  who  knows  about  his  past  ,  keeps  him  grounded  when  he’s  lk  spiraling  &  wants  to  drop  everything  &  flee  to  some  far  flung  corner  of  the  earth  .

actual  relationship  :  it  was  fast - burn  with  deep  feelings  (  not  them  thinking  they’re  soulmates  after  dating  for  a  month  . . .  pete  &  ariana  type  beat  )  but  completely  unrealistic  .  they  have  their  own  life  ,  he’s  pretty  much  tied  to  the  restaurant  ,  not  to  mention  his  lack  of  sharing  anything  about  his  childhood / life  back  home  .  they  loved  &  cared  for  each  other  ,  but  crashed  &  burned  fairly  quickly  because  of  how  idealistic  it  was  .  they  can  either  be  on  bad  or  good  terms  now  .

hateship  with  sexual  tension  😈

summer  flings  !!

fake  boyfriend  :  he  shows  up  on  her  arm  to  her  family’s  events  where  she’s  expected  to  have  a  partner  .  it’s  not  a  real  relationship  ,  but  her  parents  don’t  need  to  know  that  .  he  plays  the  part  &  satisfies  her  parents  beyond  the  bare  minimum  ,  &  in  return  she  invites  him  to  parties  ,  takes  him  out  on  her  family’s  yacht  ,  etc  etc  .  we  luv  some  symbiosis  

i  can  always  use  more  fwbs  hehehe

squad  :  a  group  of  people  who  do  everything  together  ,  have  a  chaotic  group  chat  ,  have  nicknames  for  one  another  ,  are  utd  on  each  other’s  sex  lives  ,  party  all  night  then  show  up  to  brunch  hungover  together  .  

cat  &  mouse  :  someone  he’s  pursuing  who  isn’t  quite  giving  in  ,  &  vice  versa  .  maybe  it’s  been  going  on  a  few  years  ,  everytime  they’re  in  st  tropez  they  have  this  weird  lil  flirtationship  thing  goin  on  until  she  leaves  ,  they  forget  about  one  another  ,  then  pick  it  right  back  up  when  she  returns  .

confidant  :  preferably  someone  from  a  working  class  background  who  understands  his  plight  of  being  a  worker  amongst  people  who  expect  to  be  waited  on  .

enemies  :  they  don’t  like  his  attitude  ,  &  he  doesn’t  like  them  in  return  .  lots  of  eye  rolls  ,  shit  talking  ,  &  tension  between  their  mutual  friends  .

we’re  sleeping  together  but  we  shouldn’t  be  but  that’s  half  the  fun :  for  whatever  reason  they  became  friends  ,  starting  hooking  up  despite  it  not  being  a  good  idea  (  read  :  he’s  exes  with  one  of  her  friends  ,  her  parents  want  her  focused  on  career  ,  they’re  part  of  the  same  friend  group  ,  etc )  . . . but  now  they  can’t  stop  .  lots  of  stolen  glances  across  rooms  ,  squeezing  past  one  another  in  a  crowded  club  just  close  enough  for  a  quick  touch  to  the  back  ,  quietly  leaving  one  another’s  places  the  morning  after  &  playing  dumb  to  anyone  who  asks  . 

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 22/?

Drama AU [this is just an idea tho, no plot basically]: “Did you find a bitch in me?”

[JC-focus crackships galore baby! title is from a Marina Diamandis’s song (“Hermit the Frog) but that’s probably not important for the non-plot so... yeah]

*

“So... wait a minute.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m still confused.”

“About?”

“Wen Qing... why should I know about your ex’s exes?”

“Because he’s a bisexual menace and I don’t want him to ruin this for me.”

“Jiang Cheng is not going to sleep with me.”

“What do you know tho? He’s that powerful.”

“Babe, I’m a lesbian.”

“And he has dated everyone in our circle of friends and their significant others.”

“Big lesbian energy, you’re absolutely right.”

“Thank you. I taught him well.”

*

or the only au where there’s only drama and no plot and JC went from experimenting to actively turning people gay or straight just because.

[attn: in this au Jin GuangShan is not, I repeat, not a bitch and did not, in fact, have other kids aside from Jin ZiXuan bc I say so. don’t make me complicate this non-existent plot more, please]

[under the cut for more!]

ok. got it. JC knows he’s no saint. hell, he doesn’t even qualify as a decent human being, alright. he’s that socially abominable. but things have escalated to a point where he doesn’t even know what to do. maybe become a hermit, lock his dick and call it a day. yeah, that should do the trick. because he really doesn’t know when it all started... no. that’s a lie. total bullshit. it was Nie HuaiSang.

so, SO, he may have been 16. sweet bush child with no future nor name. a great big sister, a stupid big bro, an overachieving mother, a distant father, the usual. save for fucking Nie HuaiSang and his stash of porn. and JC was straight. and he just wanted to check if the link his high school friend sent him was a jumpscare or not. he closed the tab right after the first moan echoed in his room late at night, he forgot to put the jack in and his earphones were possibly all the way back in his backpack on the kitchen table. fuck his life. and also fuck HuaiSang for being into weirdly sensual artsy porn on top of that. fuck his life. fuck the replay button too.

coincidentally, HuaiSang was his first kiss, first head, first everything only one year later and JC still talks to the jerk to an extent, but not because he wants to, okay? they were experimenting, but JC was still straight. he wanted to do good on his first actual relationship with a woman, whatever that meant for him at the time. HuaiSang was okay with that, the lying bastard. JC may or may not have grown fond of him by the time their graduation came, but they never got around to talk about it because they were stupid and young.

also, HuaiSang’s brother had caught them once and JC had known there and then why his non-boyfriend had decided to cut things loose afterwards. that jock was scary as fuck.

.

then. THEN. university came and Wen Qing was the one reminding JC he was still very much as straight and unbendable as he could get. it took him three years to not yell at her in frustration and ask her out: the sexual tension between them fueled by rivalry over good grades and the scholarship program they both wanted to have access to for their masters.

she had been the one asking him out. JC was lying about having the balls to do it, obviously. the fact that she also discovered to be a lesbian while being with him could have burned less, all things considered, but JC knew he had made love to her and that was enough for him. letting her go had been the right thing to do and they still talk everyday and she loves his nephew and everything is fine.

JC is FINE.

it only took him the two remaining years of his masters to get over her, but. FINE.

.

he’s not gonna talk about her brother. it happened only once. okay maybe once that particular night, at a bar and they were drunk and Wen Ning was nothing like his sister and the boy always had a slight crush on him and he was the one suggesting it, okay?

Wen Ning was kind and gentle and kissed way better than his sister and maybe after two years JC could get over it and move on and they could still be a family after all and that last stall in the staff toilet had been where JC’s bottom cherry was popped and oh gods that felt so good...

“actually, Jiang Cheng, you’re lovely. but I think I’m actually really straight so... I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends?”

yeah. JC’s not gonna talk about fucking Wen Ning.

.

maybe the fact that his brother Wei Ying got married so soon was the reason why. it has to be.

JC hated, HATED Lan Zhan. he hated how much in love they were. how softly they moved around each other. how much he wanted some of that as well.

and since he was THAT petty he had to flirt with Lan Zhan’s brother (Lan Huan) because of it. the man was terrifyingly good looking and a gentleman. so much he didn’t want to give in to JC’s requests... because he already had a boyfriend.

JC knew nothing about said boyfriend aside from the fact that he was apparently a snake, whatever Wei Ying meant by that.

Lan Huan looked very intrigued, but he’s also very loyal and JC admired him for that. he didn’t want to have that conversation tho, the one where Lan Huan politely asked him to stop being so charming in his periphery, so JC decided to hide for a month or two and maybe extended that period of time and never show his face again while he’s at it.

Lan Zhan would have also had his head on a fucking plate if he dared touching his precious older brother so, there’s that as well.

.

so he dated a bunch of people after swiping them on apps left and right, got the hitch out of his system and felt miserable about it.

Nie HuaiSang came back into his life like, the day before JC started working for a new company and asked him out for a drink. HuaiSang was crushing for a man too young for HuaiSang’s comfort because he usually liked older men and this boy was fresh out of his bachelor and JC’s friend was well in his late twenties and didn’t have a job yet and...

JC shut him up with a kiss and they felt slightly less lonely afterwards, until they actually talked about their issues and decided to stop being messy and grow out of their bad habits.

JC still fells sick at the idea of being someone else’s “bad habit” though.

.

Wen Chao was a mistake.

Wen Chao’s girlfriend was a mistake.

Wen Chao’s brother was a mistake.

Their bloody uncle was a mistake.

Their father was an even more spectacular mistake.

JC has yet to find out how he survived the year of his thirtieth birthday, honestly. that shit had been wild as fuck.

.

YanLi and her husband offered JC to look after Jin Ling more often in order to make him feel some sense of safety, he knew that much. at the time, JC hated the fact that ZiXuan worried over him and that his own sister didn’t know how to help him either.

people at work had started to treat him differently as well, now that they knew how messy he was. he started getting treated for depression soon after being promoted to supervisor, his workaholic tendencies saving him from himself after years of sleeping around and drinking too much for his own good.

A-Su was YanLi’s friend from university and was kind enough to ask him out one day. she stayed with him for a year before apologizing to him, saying she wanted something more: a family, a future, something JC could have not given her anytime soon.

.

his brother and Lan Zhan adopted a boy and JC became an uncle for the second time. A-Yuan was difficult to look after, having survived stressful living conditions in his early childhood, so Wei Ying appreciated the extra hand when JC offered it to him and his husband.

looking after children forced him to be not so angry all the time and now Jin Ling had a cousin he could play with and was very glad his Jiujiu was feeling better.

.

when Lan Huan came back into his life, JC had forgotten about even attempting to win him over in his early twenties. it felt life a lifetime had passed.

they started as friends this time around, but JC felt nothing for him and he was okay with that. they were good uncles to A-Yuan and that was enough.

.

what really caught JC off guard was when Meng Yao stumbled upon him one day in midwinter, crashing on JC and sending his briefcase up in the air. the older man was apologetic and kind and gods forbid JC still needed some of that in his life. even if it was the other who had crashed into him, JC offered to buy him coffee since Meng Yao’s cup was now sadly rolling out frame on the snowy path.

to his utter astonishment, Meng Yao accepted.

JC took his time with him, willing to slow down and really get to know this new man who seemed so welcoming and easily approachable... yet so impossibly far and unreachable.

Meng Yao confessed cheating on his previous partner with his best friend five years prior and how he felt undeserving of another chance with someone as kind as JC. he revealed how therapy helped him work on his tendency of manipulating others and that this was the only reason why he wanted to be honest with JC and tell him the truth. so that the younger man could make up his mind if Meng Yao could be granted a chance with him.

this heartfelt confession startled JC in the beginning, especially bc Meng Yao seemed adamant about not sleeping with him for the foreseeable future, unless they talked it out some more.

on JC’s thirty-fourth birthday, one year after meeting Meng Yao, JC asks him to marry him during a pleasant dinner the older man has planned for him.

to his horror and absolute joy, A-Yao accepts.

JC didn’t mind not having been intimate with him until then, nor he would have minded if A-Yao never happened to change his mind on the matter. JC felt safe with him, even when he saw him reminiscing the past with grief painting his features behind his fake smile. JC knew he could give him happiness and so he asked him to meet the Jiangs for the first time to announce the good news.

all but Wei Ying and his husband have arrived the even JC brought A-Yao home, their car stuck in traffic. they start eating without them, with the couple’s permission. YanLi and ZiXuan didn’t bring A-Ling this time around, not willing to leave too soon and waste a chance to really get to know the new member of their family. JC’s father seemed pleased to meet with A-Yao, exchanging pleasantries and conversing about common interests...but JC’s mother is weirdly cold and distant that night.

once dinner came to a end, finally Wei Ying arrived, apologizing profusely for making the lot of them eat without them. however, nor he or his husband could take their eyes off of A-Yao...and neither could JC’s fiancé.

“if you still have some dignity to spare, I suggest you leave this very moment,” said Lan Zhan, the most he has ever spoken in one breath in front of JC. to which, to JC’s astonishment, A-Yao answered by giving JC one last look and the saddest smile he had ever worn...before leaving the house and never look back.

.

confused, heartbroken, humiliated...JC didn’t know what to feel when Lan Zhan explained to the lot of them what Meng Yao had done to Lan Huan after eight years together. cheating on the kindest man alive with an old acquaintance of his that to that day remained unnamed bc Meng Yao refused to reveal their identity.

JC’s mother didn’t have to tell her son that she had known all along something was off about A-Yao: JC could feel it in the way she was looking at him, sitting next to him on the couch. she had a sixth sense for venomous people.

the following year, JC is pretty sure it passed in a blur. he remembers working less hard than what he was expected to do, been consequently and rightfully demoted in his company. others gossiped about him being so proud for nothing in the end, which aggravated his mood.

to his surprise, his mother was the one suggesting him to take a break somewhere nice. to clear his head for a month or two before deciding what to do with his life. Wei Ying booked him a trip to Taiwan the following day and in less than a week JC is on a plane to take a long vacation there.

.

one night, roughly a week after his arrival at the hotel, JC was staring blankly at the skyline in deep thought. he had done the tourist-y shit, eaten all the foods in the best restaurants, brought presents for his family. and now he was bored out of his mind. the same, old questions swirling in his mind: did A-Yao lie when he said he loved him? did he lie just so he could have a fresh start and forget about the past? did he leave bc he felt guilty for his past with Lan Huan? was he serious when he had accepted JC’s proposal?

that’s when Mo XuanYu came barging into his life like a hurricane.

the younger man, seven years his junior, spotted him from an adjacent balcony and proceeded to talk to him as if...trying to de-escalate a suicide attempt from his part.

“sir, please. I’m sure there’s more to life than this. I don’t know what happened to make you feel this way but...everything will be fine in the end. I promise you. I was there. It’s okay. please don’t jump over the balcony.”

JC had no intention of jumping, just to be clear, but something in his eyes must have caught the kid’s attention and...was that a steward uniform he was wearing? did he work for the hotel? JC was none the wiser but that was the first time someone had reassured him so wholeheartedly without even knowing him and it felt...weird.

he started tearing up and the younger man panicked, promising to keep him company all night if necessary, reaching out with a hand to touch JC and reassure him from the other side. JC grasped it gingerly in his own and let himself be coaxed back to the realm of the living by such gentle soul.

JC hated himself for sleeping with him not even a week after their encounter.

but it just felt so good to let himself be guided by hand to the most hidden and wonderful places. away from the tourist crowd, eating delicious food with someone smiling prettily at him. yet he hated himself more for thinking about someone else in bed with him, at least in the beginning.

Mo XuanYu seemed to know anyway, and even encouraged him to just do whatever he felt like with him. casual hookups didn’t have to be meaningful, the younger man had said, and it wasn’t even the first time someone used him as a rebound either. still, something ugly stirred in JC at that.

so he decided to stop thinking about himself for once and shoved every bad memory away. all to pour his affection into someone else and cater to his lover for the following month and a half. borrowed time of a stolen season, during which JC doted on the younger man and learned to listen.

some of the stories Mo XuanYu told him felt slightly familiar, almost as if they had a friend in common and didn’t know who it might have been. after his shift, the younger man would ask to eat with JC and share his frustrations, repaying him in kindness with sweet kisses and even sweeter smiles that felt a little bit too brittle in the morning, when he was bound to leave.

by the end of JC’s trip it was clear to him that he had grown fond of the other man, too much for his own good. but during a vacation, away from home, surrounded by new and exciting things...anyone would have worn a mask to forget their normal life, that reality they would have eventually been forced to come back to.

by the end of his vacation, JC had figured out who their common friend was and remembered how distant Nie HuaiSang had felt falling in love with Mo XuanYu. how sad the younger man’s emotional unavailability has made him feel.

and when they parted ways at the airport, JC kissed him goodbye and never saw him again. the memory of Mo XuanYu’s brittle smile engraved forever in the back of his mind.

.

back to work. back to his bad bitch persona. it felt good to focus on his job and nothing else for a year or two, keeping others at distance while bossing them from his office as he regained his boss’s trust. being promoted a second time gave him the confidence he needed to move on with his life and by his thirty-seventh birthday he could finally see a future for himself.

therapy was helping a great deal and even his siblings seemed to notice his progress, praising him for his willingness to seek help and his hard work.

A-Yuan and A-Ling included: the kids were growing up too fast, involving their uncle in their school projects and plans for mischief any chance they got to see him.

Lan Huan caught everyone by surprise one day in autumn by confirming YanLi and Wei Ying’s suspicions about his breakup with Nie MingJue, Nie HuaiSang’s older brother.

the older man didn’t tell them why he had stepped back from his engagement with the man, aside from saying that the both of them had found out something concerning about their past and common acquaintances. the discovery making them feel so disheartened to the point of braking their engagement of mutual accord.

JC felt bad for the man, knowing how much it hurt to lose someone so dear. not that they had had been able to discuss over the matter much, not even after A-Yao had left. it would have been awkward to talk about their common ex and his penchant for secrets and hurting other people’s feelings.

but they understood each other well enough and started talking more, out of their common interest in their nephews and their well-being.

.

five years later, JC was forty-two and content with his life. A-Ling was close to thirteen and A-Yuan quickly approaching fifteen. he could see them growing up and out of his reach, but their affection for him never wavered. until one day A-Yuan called him in the middle of the night, startling him awake.

apparently, his best friend JinGyi had called him for help after being beaten up by his foster mother and A-Yuan didn’t know what to do. calling his parents would have only alerted and worried Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, who were probably still asleep and hadn’t even noticed their son had sneaked out in the middle of the night.

panicked and worried, JC called Lan Huan instead and they left for the hospital. and something hurt at the sight of such a young boy lying still on a bed too big for him. something else clicked in JC’s brain at the sight but it would have taken him several months to realize what exactly.

furious and restless, Lan Huan spend months looking for the woman who had hurt the child, eventually destroying her in court until he pried a confession out of her. social services immediately alerted as JC inquired over the possibility of giving the child a permanent home himself.

not even a year later, JC was able to welcome the kid in their new house in the quietest part of town. it took a while for the boy to adjust, worrying over JC eventually changing his mind and letting him go. “who even adopts someone close to be of age?” JinGyi had asked, frustrated and certain JC would grow bored of him.

but JC was there to reassure him every step of the way, telling him family was forever and not something easily dismissible. he repeated it until the boy seemed satisfied and called him “dad” for the first time one inconspicuous evening at dinner. if JC cried on his pizza, well, nobody has to know.

.

Lan Huan was glad to listen to JC gushing over his son, more than supportive and borderline enthusiastic to listen to every little progress and new success.

JC knew this was enough, but he would lie saying he hadn’t felt loved by the other man. yet, he didn’t dare hope he could have another chance at happiness at almost fifty years old. Lan Huan himself close to fifty-five and well settled into his career as a lawyer...too much to consider a valuable partnership with someone like JC.

his therapist had bashed him for ages over such insecurity, but JC could only smile at him and shrug. many people didn’t find their happy ending and he still had JinGyi to look after. which seemed a good way to spend the rest of his life.

so it came as a surprise when, one evening, as JC overlooked at Lan Huan building a piece of furniture with JinGyi in their living room, he started crying with love and affection.

“why are you crying Jiang Cheng?”

“I’m happy.”

he really was.

he still is to this day.

*

[they don’t marry, but they do spend the rest of their life together anyway]

I need a break, this took days to make D:

[aerynwrites]

We All Have Our Demons

Javier Peña x Reader

Author’s Note: Wow? Me actually fulfilling a request I got forever ago? I do have some sense of responsibility lol. So here we go! Another request filled and hopfully you enjoy!

Request: Can you do a Javier Peña x reader where she is reassigned to Columbia and she only as one arm(she was tortured) and one day she’s carrying a bunch of files and Javier goes to help and he touches where are arm is suppose to be and she drops the files and she flashes back to when she was being tortured and has a panic attack, he calms her down and she explains to him what happened. Can they be the only two in the office? Can they have platonic relationship

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: brief mentions of torture, loss of limb, description of an anxiety attack, angts, fluff.

no this is not beta-read bc I’m just kinda trying to get some of these requests written and done - so please excuse any grammatical errors.

/////

“You know what happened to her right?”

Steve’s voice drew Javier’s gaze from your form, which was sitting at a desk several feet from the pair scribbling down notes, and his eyes fell to his partners as his brows furrowed.

“Yeah, she got injured in the field, from the reports I read,” Javier shrugged, “That shit happens every day,” He was tired of having this conversation with every agent he came across. It was exhausting and frankly kind of rude in his opinion.

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned towards his partner a bit more, not wanting to be too loud as his eyes glanced at you briefly, “Well yeah, but she lost a fucking arm Peña! Don’t you think it’s a little odd that’s she’s back on the field already and in a different state?”

Javier opened his mouth to reply but your voice cut him off.

“For seasoned agents, you both really suck and whispering,” you say casually, flipping through the files on your desk, “If you want to talk about me you can just ask me you know.”

Javier watched as Steve’s neck flushed red and his head snapped downwards to fixate on some of his own files, “uh-yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he stuttered.

You just rolled your eyes and returned to your work, trying your best to ignore Javier’s lingering gaze. You had been transferred to the DEA unit in Colombia about three and a half months ago insisting to your boss that you were still fit to work and help where you could, despite your new disability. You had been a DEA agent for almost fifteen years before getting caught up in a particularly nasty case with a gang in the states. They had found you, kidnapped you, and then proceeded to torture you for almost two weeks. They had taken your arm, as a sign to any other agent who dared to cross them, but in the end your work had taken them down and you got your revenge.

But you still lacked a necessary asset when it came to field work.

You knew the minute you woke up in the hospital with one less arm that you would never see the field again, but you refused to quit and you knew paper work and the less physical work was just as important as shooting at the bad guys, so you managed to convince your boss to send you down here. Javier was used to your presence, having been here when you arrived and forming a somewhat jovial friendship with you. However, Steve had arrived just a few weeks ago and couldn’t seem to grasp the fact that you were here.

You were drawn from your thoughts by a sharp stabbing pain in your left arm – well where your left arm should be. You grimaced slightly, dropping the pen in your right hand and rubbing at your left shoulder harshly, willing the phantom pains to go away. This didn’t go unnoticed by Javier and he felt a flash of sympathy shoot through him. You were strong, and he admired your will power and resolve to continue to do what you love despite what must have been a major set back. He finally turned back to his desk, taking his eyes off of you to look at the files in front of him, he would have to talk to you later.

----

You felt your eyes widen as you raised your head from the files on your desk to look at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, the office was empty, and you realized you must have lost track of time trying to catch up on these files. You let out a small sigh and stood from the desk, reaching down to collect the files on your desk into your arm to store them away until tomorrow. You grasped the files close to your chest and walked to the file room, feeling a slight agitation when you saw the door was closed. How the hell was this going to work?

Just as you were about to set the files on the floor and open the door, a familiar voice spoke from a few feet down the hallway.

“I’ll get it, give me a sec,” Javi says as he jogs the last few steps to where you stand and opens the door to the filing room.

You give him a small smile, “Thanks Javi.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t mention it,” he shrugs and looks at the time on his watch as you both walk through the door, “Late night? Trying to catch up on some paperwork?” he asks casually as you approach a filling cabinet.

You just purse your lips and nod. While it was a half truth, you didn’t want to tell him that the real reason you stayed late at work so often was to avoid the nightmares that plague your sleep. You much preferred the silence of the office to the horrible and painful memories that relived themselves in your dreams.

“Yeah, you guys have made a lot of progress on the case with Escobar so there’s a lot of paperwork to be done,” you gave him a tight smile, something he didn’t miss, and moved to set the files on a shelf next to the cabinet.

However, as you moved to set them down, the pile shifted and started to fall towards the floor. Javier immediately reached out to help you grab them.

“Shit let me-“

You shook your head and moved to the side, only causing the files to fall more, “No Javi stop-“

But before he heard your warning his hand brushed right by where your arm used to be.

You know it’s stupid and it doesn’t make sense, but you could feel it. You could feel his hand on your arm that was no longer there. You could feel the pain resurface as pins and needles prickled your shoulder and sharp pains shot through it as well. You let out a small gasp and dropped the remaining files to the floor as your back hit the shelf, your mind being assaulted with all the horrible memories of your torture. You felt your breathing become erratic and your hand started to shake as you leaned back into the shelf for support.

You felt warm hands on your shoulders and while the rational part of you knew you weren’t in danger, the other part of you was overwhelmed and confused and for a moment you thought you were back in that godforsaken warehouse.

You frantically shoved the hands off of you as you slid to the floor, “P-please don’t hurt me, please!” you whimpered pushing your head into your knees as your hand buried itself in your hair searching for something to ground you in this terrifying moment.

Suddenly, yet gently, you felt a warm, and this time comforting, hand land gently on your back and rub long soothing strokes up and down your back slowly, a familiar voice accompanying it.

“Hey, (y/n), it’s me. You’re safe. You’re at the embassy in Colombia, miles away from the warehouse,” Javier soothes calmly crouching down in front of you.

Javier was aware of your panic attacks, he had seen a few before and had learned how to deal with them since – he knew what it felt like to be terrified and consumed by your own mind. He was probably the only one who understood.

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to focus on the feeling of Javi’s hand gently rubbing your back as well as steadying your breathing.

You are safe.

You are in Colombia.

You are with Javier.

You are safe.

You kept repeating those words to yourself over and over until your breathing returned to normal and you let out a rasping sigh, lifting your head from your knees and leaning it back against the shelf, eyes meeting Javier’s concerned ones.

You give him a small smile and took in a deep breath, “I’m good. Thank you.” you whisper, bringing you hand down to squeeze his gently.

He gives you a warm smile and moves to sit next to you, hand still holding yours, “Of course cariño.”

You let out yet another sigh and lean your head onto Javier’s shoulder, thoroughly exhausted, “Thanks for being there for me Javi, I know I’m a mess.”

Javier shakes his head and squeezes you hand gently, “We all have our demons (y/n). I’ll be here to help you with yours just like you help me with mine.”

You don’t say anything back, opting instead to rest more heavily on Javier’s shoulder and close your eyes as Javier breathes steadily beside you, thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles.  And while you both know that the demons will never truly go away, you know you have each other.

Always.

////

Permanent Tags: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck​ @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​ @stillreadingfantasy​ @jokersdoll​ @simonsbluee​ @justlovetoreadfics​ @discogrrl​ @maryan028​

Pedro Character Tags: @fleurdemiel145​ @lustriix​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @longitud-de-onda​ @jellyfishpoptart​ @ah-callie​ @mutantsandproud​ @pascalisthepunkest​ @24kgolden​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​

[cakesunflower]

No Need Convincing Me [Tattoo Artist!Calum AU] Part 5

Summary: Elodie Banks hadn’t expected to get so caught up in her best friend’s tattoo artist. But all it took was one meeting with Calum Hood for Elodie to feel herself drawing towards him and the ink on his skin. Maybe once she was rid of a miserable relationship and the insecurities that came with it, she’d allow herself to realize that Calum was just as wrapped up in her.

A/N: i’m not entirely satisfied with the end but like. i just needed it to be done. i definitely finished writing this in my medieval lit class while my professor talked about Chaucer bc fuck Chaucer he’s a lil bitch. ANYWAYS. happy reading!!!!

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Part 5

“Come on, man, it’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

Calum rolled his eyes as he and Michael crossed the street, giving a shake of his head. “Luke likes to play, just ask him.”

Michael let out a scoff, as if Calum’s suggestion was completely unsound. He sniffed, the cold late afternoon air hitting his face as they walked. “Luke dies in, like, the first minute. It’s pretty fucking pathetic,” he added with a patronizing snicker towards his best friend.

Calum huffed out a laugh, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. He almost regretted not wearing his hoodie underneath, remaining in just a shirt, as the cold weather chilled his body, the chain necklace he wore feeling like ice on his skin in addition to the breeze. He and Michael walked side by side, only stepping apart as a family shuffled past right between them before falling into step with one another as Calum said, “I’m down to play any other game with you except Fortnite. Or that weird card game.”

Throwing his head back to let out a pretty dramatic groan, earring dangling and hand flying up to the top of his head to keep his hat in place, Michael complained, “Magic: The Gathering isn’t a weird card game if you just gave it a shot!”

Calum merely smirked lazily, figuring that one day he’d give into Michael’s request and play the card game. For now he’d just let Michael sweat it out. So Calum shot his friend a look and challenged, “I’ll play the damn game when you decide to start filling in your bands—you work at a tattoo shop, for fuck’s sake.” Michael sputtered, glancing down at his tattooed arm, forgetting in that moment that he had a sweatshirt on. Calum shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t—”

He cut off right as a store door opened in his path—where was the sidewalk store etiquette of having doors open into the store?—and Calum wondered if this was some kind of universal joke as Nathan, of all of the people in this populated city, strolled out. He paused, green eyes meeting Calum’s dark brown as he fixed his damn cuff links, lips curling automatically into a sneer as he took in the sight of Calum.

And Calum couldn’t help it, he stopped as well—mostly because he had to as a way of avoiding getting hit by the door—and let out an unamused breath through his nose as he realized they were in front of the high tux shop a couple of blocks from their parlor, before his gaze returned to Nathan. He looked just as crisp and clean cut as usual as Calum eyed him, expression bemused and the corner of his lips just barely lifting into a condescending smirk. His unimpressed stare remained on Nathan while he drawled to Michael, “This fuckin’ guy.”

He heard Michael let out a displeased scoff of his own while Nathan merely smirked as he mused, “Tell me—is the tattoo profession truly that slow since you and your employee here can afford walking around the city during business hours? Seems like I only ever see you out of your shop, pal.”

Nathan was obviously goading him, or at least trying to, a not-so-subtle dig at Calum’s choice of career. Not that Nathan trying to paint himself as the more successful of them had any effect on Calum; the tattoo artist knew his business was doing better than great, and he was pretty damn happy and content with his life. Nothing a bitter, petty, and asshole of a man could say would make any of that less true.

“Funny, I was just gonna say I’ve been seein’ a bit too much of you,” Calum responded, his tone flat and sounding just as uninterested as he was.

It was also meant to be the last thing Calum was going to say to Nathan, exchanging a bored look with Michael just as the words left his lips before the two of them went to side step him and continued on their way. They were just about to merge back into the sidewalk traffic when Nathan spoke up once more, “That’ll happen if you glue yourself to Elodie. How much longer are you planning on doing that, by the way? Being so codependent isn’t healthy, you know.”

A soft yet disbelieving breath escaped Calum’s lips at Nathan’s words, eyes rolling skywards as he wondered if the mad bastard really just uttered that statement. Calum would’ve laughed at Nathan’s hypocricy in regards to healthy relationships—who the fuck was he, of all people, to try and give advice on those?—if it weren’t for the irritation so quickly beginning to burn his blood. Was this guy really so blind to think that what he did to Elodie was normal? It concerned Calum if that was true; the reminder of what she had to endure in a relationship with someone like Nathan twisted Calum’s stomach in uneasy anger. No one deserved to be treated the way Nathan treated Elodie, and knowing that someone Calum was so quickly coming to care about had to go through that only further pissed him off. And to think that Nathan thought that Calum being with Elodie was something that had an expiration date on it, he was sorely mistaken. Calum didn’t plan on it, and he could only hope, though he may kind of know, that Elodie didn’t, either.

Calum could’ve easily been the bigger man and continued walking, ignoring Nathan and his taunts that didn’t effect Calum. But he also didn’t want Nathan walking away thinking his behavior and words were so easily done without him being put in his place. Calum wasn’t too keen on being given the responsibility of being the one to do so, but then Elodie’s face flashed in his mind; her brown eyes and soft hair and gentle smile and the kind tone she spoke in, and Calum didn’t mind anymore. He found himself realizing, as a smile threatened to quirk at his lips for no reason other than just thinking about Elodie, that he’d probably do anything for her already. He was fine with that.

Calum and Elodie weren’t codependent, not by a long shot; they were just getting to know each other, a journey they were both enjoying and didn’t want to end. So he wasn’t even going to acknowledge that part of Nathan’s empty taunt. Instead, he just turned around, catching Michael’s semi-amused huff, and tilted his chin at Nathan. “At least I’m not a controlling bastard like you.” With a cock of his head, Calum pushed smugly, “Isn’t that why your unhealthy relationship died?” Calum clicked his tongue in mock empathy. “Must be shit to not have control over someone and lose ’em.”

He saw the effect his words had on Nathan, who had proven to not being as good as Calum in keeping himself in check, as the snide smirk on his lips dissipated as his jaw clenched and gaze hardened, lips twitching into a frown he couldn’t contain. Even so, Calum couldn’t tell if Nathan was more bothered by the comment of him being controlling, or the reminder that Elodie ended their relationship.

Instead of lashing out, Nathan took a step towards Calum, a single click of the heel of his fancy ass dress shoes as Calum felt Michael tense up ever so slightly. But Nathan’s gaze remained on Calum, who kept his gaze on him evenly. Nathan’s green eyes were brimming with a familiar fire and his teeth gritted as he threatened in a low, taut tone, “She’s never going to love someone like you.”

It was almost amusing how Nathan thought that was for him to decide. Calum cared for no one’s opinion but Elodie’s, and he wasn’t going to let a selfish, bitter ex of hers influence his thoughts. Love was some ways away for now—but with Elodie, Calum had a feeling he was on the track, given just how fast and quickly he fell for her. And, shit, did he revel in it. So Calum’s dark eyes narrowed slightly but remained on Nathan’s green, hands that were still in the pockets of his leather jacket forming into tight fists as he returned assertively, just a hint of ridicule, “Are you speaking from experience?”

He was well aware that his words were fuel to an already brimming fire, and Calum picked up on the instant shift of Nathan’s expression, saw the severe temper Calum provoked darken his green eyes and the twitch of his lips threatening into a snarl. But Calum was unapologetic, didn’t care that he was reminding the bastard of how shitty his relationship was despite whatever delusion he’d put himself into. Calum was still unapologetic when Nathan pulled back his hand in one second and slammed the knuckles of his fist into the bone of Calum’s cheek.

There was an instant numbing sting that settled in Calum’s face, forced to stumble only a single step back from the force Nathan put behind the punch. Calum was more surprised by the power behind the hit than the actual hit itself, head turning by the punch as it shocked through his face. He was only barely aware of Michael’s protesting shout, didn’t care for the fact that they were on the sidewalk and a few people had looked over upon the violent action. All Calum could focus on was the sting on one side of his face, his own fury thrumming to life as he clenched his jaw, the action only causing a newfound ache, facing the right as his head had turned upon the punch. There were a couple of middle aged women who’d saw what just happened, completely forgetting that they were going to cross the street and instead watching with wide, incredulous eyes.

Calum’s lips parted, slowly dragging his gaze back to Nathan as he licked the inside of his lower lip in provoked acceptance that this was how it was going to be. He almost smirked when Nathan followed his actions with words unsteady because of barely contained anger, “She was lucky to have me. Now she’ll just go back to being absolutely nothing.”

Almost.

But then Nathan had to bring Elodie’s worth into it, something Calum understood neither he nor Nathan could live up to, and any pain of his cheek disappeared as Calum decided, in that split second, to not hold back.

There was no hope for Calum to remain unaffected by Nathan’s jeer, or his presumptuous attitude of being someone who made Elodie anything but unjustifiably insecure and timid, and he ignored Michael’s attempts of pulling him away. Calum felt his muscles tighten as his fingers curled into a fist, his blunt nails digging into his palms, lips curving into an animalistic snarl as he swung his own fist forward.

The first thing Calum noticed was the sharp pain in his fingers as his knuckles dug right into Nathan’s nose because he’d definitely broken it. The second thing Calum noticed was Michael’s startled, “Jesus, fuck!”. And the third thing Calum noticed as Nathan stumbled backwards, much more than Calum had, and Calum’s hand uncurled was the bit of blood that was now tainting his fingers and rings.

Nathan ended up on the ground, a shout of pain escaping him as he brought his hands up to his face, the crimson color painting his skin and dripping right down to stain his probably expensive suit. Calum stood over him, looking down at the bleeding man as his hand hung beside him, the adrenaline pumping through his veins fueled by a wrath he hadn’t known himself capable of numbing him to the pain he was probably going to feel soon in both his face and hand.

But he was aware of the eyes that were watching them, people minding their own business but observing the scene that had just unfolded, yet Calum kept his fiery gaze on Nathan, feeling Michael’s hand on his shoulder. Not an ounce of regret tainted Calum, the beat of his heart only racing due to the adrenaline stemming from the anger Nathan’s words brought. Calum’s jaw clenched, vaguely aware of the sting on his cheek because of the action, but he didn’t care. No fucking way was he going to let this bastard say shit about Elodie and allow him to walk away without repercussions.

“You fuck—” Nathan sputtered through a thick voice, words muffled and disgruntled by his hands holding his nose and the blood that was pouring from it, his eyes widened in pain and incredulity and infuriation as he looked up at them. Calum felt a swell of satisfaction at the sight of him; on his ass on the sidewalk, expensive looking suit getting stained with blood, and not at all looking as put together as he’d like to. “You broke my fucking nose!”

Calum briefly raised his eyebrows, features set and hardened, hyper aware of the warm blood on his own skin. “It was either that or your arm,” he responded briskly, reminding Nathan of his promise from Dominique’s birthday party, to which the fallen man sputtered out something incoherent. “I would’ve preferred both.”

Nathan pushed himself up, a smear of blood on the pavement as he used one hand to get to his feet. His other hand remained on his nose, the crimson blood visible through his fingers, and blonde hair disheveled from the fall. Green eyes enraged, Nathan demanded, “You think you can get away with putting your han—”

“It was self defense, asshole,” Michael spoke up, his own voice tight once he’d gotten over his brief surprise of how quickly things had escalated. “You punched him first and there are loads of witnesses to attest to that. Fucking try.”

Calum pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his lower teeth, forcefully as he fought the sneer from curling at his lips again, feeling the muscles in his face subtly twitch in protest. This guy—this motherfucker who hurt Elodie with his words and treatment—deserved any kind of pain Calum may have just inflicted upon him. He deserved to feel any semblance of an ache like he caused Elodie, and Calum was more than willing to be the physical enforcer of it. He was proud of her for sticking up for herself, for getting herself out of the situation, but that didn’t mean Calum couldn’t offer his services.

Sure, he’d known her only for a short time but, shit, he’d do it for her.

Nathan fumbled incoherently once more, stupidly, trying and failing to find words to defend himself, to find the kind of words he’d utter to hurt Elodie and throw them in Calum’s face. Hell, if Nathan even tried, he was a bigger idiot than Calum already thought of him as.

So he left him with a simple and honest warning in a tone that left no room for niceties. “You try to talk shit ’bout Elodie again, and I’ll take a couple-a-teeth out, too.”

*****

The second the door to Calum’s apartment swung open, Elodie’s instinctual reaction was to look down at his dominant hand to visually inspect it. The air had rushed out of her lungs the second she’d received Dominique’s text earlier, praising Calum for punching Nathan so hard that he broke his nose, which was the first time Elodie had even heard about the incident. She’d been in her three hour film lecture, only receiving the texts once she was out of class, and had needed to stop walking to make sure she was reading Dominique’s text correctly.

Calum had punched Nathan. He’d broken his nose. And Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how she should feel that the first thought that popped into her head following the news wasn’t to be afraid of Calum, but was to be worried about his hand.

Because as well as Elodie thought she’d known Nathan for the years they grew up together and the months they were dating, it felt like nothing compared to how she was getting to know Calum. With him, nothing felt off limits, there were no egg shells to walk on, no temper to be uneasy around. If Calum punched Nathan, Elodie instinctively knew it was for a good reason. And it felt crazy to her, how easy it felt with Calum; unrestrained and comfortable and good. Maybe that’s why she wanted to see him right away. Because with Nathan, all she ever wanted to do when his temper flared was to get away.

So when the door opened, Elodie’s gaze flickered down to his hand briefly before her worried brown eyes met Calum’s surprisingly sheepish ones, feeling her chest swell happily at the mere sight of him until she took in the slight discoloration on his left cheek. Elodie’s lips parted at the bruise that bloomed on the swell of his cheek, chest sinking with the sharp breath that escaped her as the words, “Are you okay?” tumbled out of her mouth immediately.

She hadn’t been aware that Nathan had gotten a hit in, too. Not nearly as strong, but still. The sight of the injury twisted Elodie’s stomach—the knowledge of it being caused by her ex only worsened it.

But Calum, quickly becoming a light, only smiled through a breathless chuckle and reassured, “I’m fine, doll,” before ducking his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, Elodie’s mouth automatically puckering to accept the kiss before moving further into the apartment. Paws clattered across the floorboards and Calum smiled, as if he didn’t have a bruise on his face, and nodded, “Duke’s just as excited to see you.”

She picked up the dog just as he reached her, accepting and enjoying the kisses she was greeted with, with a smile on her face, though her concerned gaze remained on Calum as she watched him shut the door. Elodie mumbled a gentle, “Hi, buddy,” to Duke as she ran her fingers through his soft fur, his paws against her chest as her gaze dropped to Calum’s hand once more.

Duke wiggled out of her grasp and Elodie bent down enough for him to easily jump down, and her eyebrows knitted together as Calum tried to move past her but she stopped him, grabbing the material of his hoodie. He skidded to a stop as she maneuvered around him, her hand gently grasping his right wrist so she could lift up his hand and inspect it. Elodie’s throat tightened at the faint bruises formed on his knuckles, the color sticking out more than the glint of his rings, and the familiar uneasiness of guilt crept back into her stomach.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t break anythin’. Just iced it a bunch; the bruising will go away soon enough,” Calum told her, the reassurance ever present in his tone, and Elodie adored that he was trying to make her feel better even though he was the one who was physically injured. It only served as a reminder of how considerate Calum was, and it made falling for him that much lighter.

Elodie held his fingers in hers, her touch light as a feather out of fear of somehow irritating his bruise, and let her thumb run over the skin by his rings as she scoffed gently. “Didn’t break anything except for Nathan’s nose.” Was it wrong to feel a smile tug at her lips? She never wanted to be someone to smile at someone else’s expense, much less their pain. But knowing Calum was okay relieved some of the tension in her shoulders. Lifting her gaze, Elodie met Calum’s eyes and told him with only the tiniest bit of amusement coloring her tone, “I heard you got blood on his favorite Armani suit.”

Calum scoffed, lips quirking briefly as he looked down at Elodie holding his hand, ever so careful of touching his injury. With an almost childlike petulance, Calum countered, “He got blood on my favorite rings.”

Despite wanting to continue standing there and joking around lightheartedly, Elodie still felt the weight lingering on her shoulders, which sank when she let out a sigh and lamented, “I hate that this happened to you because of me.” Her throat worked as she eyed the bruise on his cheek, a reddish-purple color blossoming against the brown of his skin. “Do you need ice?”

“Elodie,” Calum was quick to speak up, removing his hand from her light grasp so he could place both of his hands at the sides of her face, fingers tangling into her brown locks and ducking his head to maintain eye contact. He had a habit of holding her like that, and Elodie adored it. His brown eyes were widened in encouragement, hoping she would hear his words loud and clear as he said, “This didn’t happen because of you. It happened because your ex is a dick and I’ve been known for being unable to keep my mouth shut.” His touch was warm, as always, and his words spread the same comfort his hands did as his thumb stroked her cheek. “And it was completely worth it.”

Still, Elodie found herself nibbling on her lower lip as she gazed at the bruise on his cheek and was hyper aware of his discolored knuckles as well. The heaviness in her chest wasn’t as suffocating, but it was still there as it dried her throat, and Elodie couldn’t bring herself to look Calum in the eyes anymore. Not through any fault of his own—she just had some things to work through as well, things ingrained into her by her selfish ex, and it was those same insecurities that had her whispering out, “Why is it when I’m in a relationship, someone ends up hurt?”

“Baby.” Elodie’s heart lodged itself in her throat as the term of endearment slipped from Calum’s lips, soft and raspy in his desperate voice. He’d never called her that before. She liked it. Calum gently tilted her head—more like gave it a nudge, trying to get her to do it on her own because he didn’t want to force her if she didn’t want to. But Elodie found herself lifting her gaze, lips pressing together as her eyes met Calum’s inviting brown ones. “Don’t mistake Nathan’s actions for your own. What you’ve done has allowed you to be yourself unapologetically. You’re out. You’re—”

“Happier,” Elodie finished quietly, feeling that weight lift from her shoulders with every word Calum spoke, no longer suffocating her. Her eyes remained on his as a smile tugged at her lips, hands slipping into the single front pocket of Calum’s hoodie to keep him close. Almost sheepishly, she decided to add, “Safer.”

Maybe it was too soon, maybe she was taking a leap, but that’s how she felt when she was around Calum—safe. Like being herself wasn’t something she actively had to hold back in worry of bothering him, because he liked who she was. He liked that her coffee order differed depending on the time of day she got it because she liked the inconsistency, he liked that at least one article of clothing she wore had to have some kind of floral design, he liked that she was only active on Instagram once a month to post an aesthetically pleasing picture she’d taken before closing the app until the next month arrived. It was all little things that were probably insignificant, but Calum liked them not out of his own personal preference—but because Elodie liked them in herself. And that meant more than Elodie could comprehend.

He let her be herself without fault in the near two months he’d known her than the six months she’d been with Nathan. Calum came into her life like storm and instead of wrecking it, he somehow managed to help clear a path so Elodie could fix it herself.

Elodie let out a breath, throat working as she said to him earnestly, albeit timidly, “I don’t mean to bring the mood down bringing up these. . . Insecurities.”

“You don’t ever bring the mood down, sweetheart,” came Calum’s genuine response, lips curling into the soft smile he had reserved just for her, the one that sent her heart leaping. “You make it worthwhile. C’mere.”

He pulled her in for a hug then, his embrace just as tender as his words as his arms wrapped around her frame, and Elodie pulled her hands out of Calum’s hoodie’s pocket to wrap them around his waist. She closed her eyes, cheek against the area just below his chest because God knows she can’t reach it, and lost herself in his familiar cologne and touch. Elodie felt Calum’s lips press to the top of her head before he rested his uninjured cheek against it, and she sank into his hug, into him, as his tranquility seeped into her bones.

Calum rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly, the two of them standing in a tender silence, before he murmured, “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

Elodie smiled as they pulled away, and she shrugged off her coat before following him into the open plan kitchen. It was there where she saw a pot of pasta boiling on the stove, as well as the other ingredients sitting on the counter ready to be cooked. She followed Calum, a smile tugging at her lips when she noted the boneless and skinned chicken breasts, baby spinach, garlic, parmesan, and a bunch of other ingredients waiting to be prepped.

Her heart was thrumming happily in her chest, eyes alight at the sight before her as Calum picked up the bottle of red wine on the counter and poured some for Elodie and himself. “I thought you weren’t much of a wine drinker,” she hummed as she neared him, gladly taking the glass he offered her. She remembered one of the many conversations they had as they got to know each other, found out that he preferred some good whiskey or maybe even a beer to wine.

“I am around you,” he responded with a smirk, and Elodie giggled lightly as he clinked his glass with hers before the two of them took sips of the bittersweet drink. She smiled around the rim of the glass as Calum shot her a wink over his, before lowering his and moving to go back to the other counter where the stove is. “’M making us some Tuscan chicken and spinach pasta.”

“Sounds delicious,” Elodie hummed, glass still in hand as she moved towards him, leaning against the counter but making sure she didn’t get in his way as she asked, “Can I help?”

There wasn’t much he needed for her to do, so Elodie just stood by Calum and sipped her wine as he worked—eventually he cleared some space on the counter so she could hop up, and Elodie crossed her ankles as she watched him make dinner. There was music softly playing throughout the apartment, songs similar to those she heard in the tattoo parlor, and Elodie gently swayed her head to the music and drank her wine and made conversation with the first man to ever actually make her food.

She may have snapped a picture of Calum cooking the seasons chicken, his gaze on the skillet while an amused grin quirked at his lips, aware of what she was doing. But Elodie couldn’t help it—he looked so at ease as he made the food, which had been his idea in the first place. He was the one who’d invited Elodie over to his place, told her he’d make them dinner and they could hang out, and she recalled the way her heart had melted when he offered to cook. The mere fact that he could and liked to cook was enough to have Elodie rushing over. Nevermind the fact that she loved spending time with him anyway.

They made light conversation; she talked about what she was learning in her lectures plus the new charities she brought up to her family for their foundation to support, while he disclosed the tattoos he’d just done plus a few sketches that he drew. It slipped Elodie’s mind that as a tattoo artist, Calum was also an artist, that many of the tattoos he gave his clients were ones they’d picked from his own designs. She wondered if any of the ones he had were of his own making, still wanted to sit down and ask him about every single one of the words and images inking his skin.

“I wish I was good at something,” Elodie sighed after taking another sip of the wine. She was already a glass and a half in, and it was safe to say she was beginning to feel the lightheadedness that came with drinking it. Her skin was beginning to feel warm, a happy flush on her cheeks, as she pouted. Calum had put the pasta in a big bowl and was mixing in the chicken and spinach and everything else. He quirked an eyebrow at the slight drawl her words were adopting. “All I do is go to school and cry.”

Calum knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help the amused chortle escape him as he glanced over at Elodie with raised eyebrows, the fondness he felt for her warming his heart as he continued tossing the pasta. “You know that’s not true, doll,” he told her knowingly. “You’re good at working your family’s foundation. Aren’t you the one that researches and brings in the charities and organizations you guys support?”

“Well, yeah.” Elodie’s eyebrows furrowed almost childishly, a small pout forming on her lips that Calum felt the urge to kiss. He finished with the pasta, hot and ready to eat, as he took the two steps to the other side of the stove where Elodie sat. She looked up at him, and he noticed the slight glaze over her eyes. “But I feel like I could be doing more.”

“You’re already doing more than most,” Calum told her, coming to a stop in front of her and feeling a smirk curve his lips as Elodie automatically unlocked her ankles and spread her legs just enough for him to step into the space they created. Calum braced his hands on the cool marble counter on either side of her thighs, careful of his bruised knuckles, and enjoyed the scent of her floral perfume that briefly overpowered the food he’d cooked. But Calum focused on her, and the hints of doubt seeping into Elodie in regards to her worth, and he was bitterly reminded of what Nathan had said. Calum wasn’t going to let any spiteful thing that bastard said come true in any way, so he quickly derailed that train of thought in Elodie’s mind. “You, my darling, are better than most people I’ve met. That’s a fact.”

Her cheeks pinkened more than they already were, and Elodie felt her heart flutter happily in her chest. Every time Calum complimented her, she felt the air rushing out of her lungs, incredulous that his words made her feel ten times lighter than how awfully Nathan’s words impacted her. Elodie rested her nearly empty wine glass on the counter, hand coming up to cup Calum’s uninjured jaw and feeling his warm skin under her touch as she told him, honestly and genuinely, “You’re too good to me. That’s a fact.”

“Baby,” Calum breathed, raspy and shiver inducing as he brushed his nose against hers. There it was, that sweet little term that had butterflies exploding in her belly. Calum’s gaze was on hers, never afraid to look her in the eye, as he said, “You’re too good for me. That’s a fact.”

Elodie’s heart jumped, eyes dropping to his lips, just inches away from hers. She barely gave a shake of her head. “Nope.” And then closed the gap to capture his lips with hers.

Calum welcomed the kiss wholeheartedly, a throaty hum sounding in his throat as he moved his lips with Elodie’s and briefly gripped her hips before sliding his hands lower to bury them in the back pockets of her jeans. Elodie felt him pull her closer with his new grip, her lips parting when his tongue trailed across her lower lip, deepening the kiss as the taste of wine remained present on both of them. Her heart drummed in her chest as her own hands slid under Calum’s sweatshirt, his lack of shirt underneath allowing her hands to run along his smooth, warm skin, her touch instinctively causing Calum to give her a cheeky squeeze.

There was dinner waiting for them, Elodie knew that, was excited to take a bite of what Calum had made for them, but Elodie was enjoying the feel and taste of Calum’s lips and how warm he felt against her. She couldn’t help the way she dragged her nails down the length of his back, felt an uncharacteristic smirk tilt at her lips against Calum’s when he deepened the kiss with a deep moan that Elodie swore vibrated through her. He sounded as good as he felt.

Calum leaned into her and Elodie’s heart picked up even more, pounding in her ears because this closeness wasn’t enough; she needed more, craved it, wanting nothing in between them as her lips felt electric against his. Everything else began slipping away, her focus only being on the man who was kissing her like it was the last thing he’d get to do, yet still Elodie tried against her better judgement, “The food’ll get cold.”

Her words were mumbled against Calum’s mouth, and he merely grunted as his hands slipped out of her pockets only to grip the backs of her thighs, giving Elodie no warning as he lifted her. She let out a startled gasp, both at the action and the trickle of worry of his injured hand, but Calum’s teeth grazing her lower lip easily distracted her as she locked her ankles at his lower back and wrapped her arms around his neck as Calum said gruffly, “We’ll reheat it.”

Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how, she was too lost in the way her legs were hooked so perfectly around Calum and how he kissed her so fiercely, like he was putting everything into it, but they eventually ended up in a different room. She barely registered the sound of Calum kicking a door shut, eyes closed to completely savor the taste of his lips, kissing off the wine he’d also drank as Calum sank down until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Hands returning to the hem of Calum’s sweatshirt, Elodie gripped it and pulled it upwards, the material offending and distancing, their kiss breaking only for a moment as she tugged it over his head and let out a breathless giggle when Calum’s one hand reached the back of it to take it all the way off and dropped it on the floor, lips returning to hers urgently.

Her heart thundered as they kissed, his stubble scratching her deliciously as she ran her hands from his neck down his chest, feeling the smoothness of his warm skin and the brief chill of the necklace that he seemingly never left the house without. The need to feel close to him was desperate, and Elodie was quickly losing herself into Calum as she used her nimble fingers to undo the buttons of her blouse, Calum’s hands gripping her hips as she shrugged off the cotton material. Calum’s hands slid up, feeling her bare warm skin, the kiss breaking to allow them to catch their breaths as his gaze dropped.

Their chests heaved in time with their quickened hearts, foreheads and noses pressed together and lips electric as Calum’s gaze dropped to Elodie’s newly exposed skin, throat drying at the sight of her in just a bra and jeans. The quiet of the room was interrupted only by their heavy breaths, and as Elodie’s right hand placed itself on the back of his neck, fingers playing with the growing dark hair, her other dancing along the necklace resting against his tattooed collarbones, she felt the warmth of his hands spread through her body.

Calum ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of her back, the tips of his fingers grazing the band of her bra, and his voice was hoarse as he whispered, “El, are you sure?”

She felt the corners of her lips quirk up, felt the electricity thrumming her veins and the obvious desire of how badly Calum wanted to keep going as she remained straddling his lap, and Elodie decided she didn’t want to shy away from this. From Calum. He never gave her a reason to, so she wouldn’t.

Elodie brushed her lips against Calum’s kissed ones, cheeks warming when he tilted his chin forward to kiss her properly. “Only if you are.”

And then she grinded her hips down on him, a gesture neither of them had been expecting, and Calum’s grip on her tightened, uncaring of his bruised knuckles, as he cursed through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

She was killing him, he knew, as she pulled him in for another kiss before breaking away too soon. Calum groaned at the loss, eyes opening as he felt Elodie get off of him. He looked up at her, feeling a haze of adoration as he watched her with her long hair falling over shoulders, a not-so-innocent smile playing at her kiss pinkened lips, eyes on him as her fingers worked on the button and zipper of her jeans. Calum’s throat tightened as she kicked the jeans off, only a pretty lingerie set adorning her body that Calum couldn’t wait to take off.

The pout she sent his way nearly had Calum falling to his knees, her long hair falling around her shoulders as she gestured at him with a finger. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” Elodie said, her voice holding her usual sweet lilt, though Calum wasn’t deaf to the playful glimmer in her dark eyes. She continued to surprise him.

He smirked through a chuckle, pulling his lower lip into his mouth while his gaze remained on his girl, watching her watch him as he took off his sweatpants, the smirk wiping off his face when Elodie settled on her knees in the space between his legs and her gentle touch wrapped around his cock.

Calum’s hooded gaze was watching Elodie, feeling his heart in his throat as she closed her mouth around him, and he was in fucking heaven. His uninjured hand, braced behind him, tightened the bed sheets into a fist while the other easily gathered Elodie’s hair behind her head, his own lips parting at the sight of hers around him. The sensation of her hand working what she couldn’t fit in her warm mouth, nails of the other teasingly dragging along the top of his thigh as she worked him over.

“Shit.” It was all he was capable of breathing out, voice ragged and unsteady, the need to throw his head back and get lost in Elodie’s treatment of him heavy, but Calum didn’t want to take his eyes off of her. His fingers tangled in her soft hair, the blood rushing through his veins and thundering heart accompanying the fire spreading throughout his body.

The sight of Elodie on her knees before him was filthy, gorgeous, unexpected and perfect in every way. Calum could feel just how quickly she was pulling him to the edge, her mouth generous and dizzyingly pleasurable. But as pretty as she was before him, Calum knew he was going to come undone if she continued her ministrations, and he wanted to let go for the first time inside of her—not in her mouth.

“What?” Elodie pouted when Calum pulled her up, the loss of her making him grunt as his hands grasped her hips. She let out a startled sound amidst a giggle as Calum used his grip on her to turn them so she fell back onto the bed, Calum immediately sliding his body on top of hers as his lips pressed against hers urgently. He felt her melt under him, her hands running up the expanse of his back before her fingers found his short hair, keeping him close. Calum’s own hand snuck underneath her to unclasp her bra, ignoring the mild sting of his injured fingers at the action as Elodie lowered her arms briefly to slide off the straps before the offending material was gone.

He felt her breasts press against his chest, soft and supple on his warm skin as he kissed her, losing himself in her. Hastily, though not entirely sure how, Calum reached over to his bedside drawer, blindly pulling it open and rummaging around, lips still moving against Elodie’s, until his fingers finally grasped the foil package he’d been searching for.

There was an overwhelming, breathless desire to have her close to him, closer than she already was; to have her against him in all the right ways because it already felt so natural, so good, to be with her like this. The urgency of his kisses slowed, savoring the taste of her chapstick and the wine dancing on both of their tongues as he committed every bit of her to memory while tearing open the packet, ignoring the twinge in his bruised knuckles at the action. God. The last thing he thought was he’d be doing this with Elodie, finally, with a few bruises painting his skin.

She’d taken her underwear off during the moments of Calum rolling on the condom, hissing slightly at the latex against him, forehead pressed to Elodie’s as their heavy breathing became the soundtrack of their anticipation. His gaze lowered, lining himself up to where she needed him most, and in the midst of their excited breathing and hazy heads, Calum’s eyes met Elodie’s once more.

He looked at her, hovering over her as he took in the pretty flush of her cheeks, the already blissed out look in her eyes and lips pink and kissed. Calum’s heart was erratic within his chest, taking her in as he, in that moment, couldn’t help but think how lucky he was. His disbelief and overwhelm could be heard in his heavy breaths, could see Elodie’s own excitement in the rise and fall of her chest and tension of her neck, the diamond pendant of her necklace settled right between her collarbones. She was breathtaking, and Calum was so fucking lucky.

He couldn’t help himself by pressing his lips to hers once more, a slow and lasting kiss that had Elodie’s grip on the back of his neck tightening, wanting him close. Calum lined himself up to her, about to break the kiss just so he could hear her approval, only to be beaten to the punch as Elodie begged against his lips, “Please.”

His hips thrust forward, the sensation of him burying herself in her leaving both of them gasping for air, Elodie clinging to him and Calum groaning into the crook of her neck, feeling the subtle sting of his bruise, though it barely registered. Elodie wrapped her legs around his hips, and Calum’s hand gripped her thigh, uncaring of the strain on his fingers. Nothing mattered except for Elodie. As if there was anything else on his mind.

He started off slow, pulling out before burying himself to the hilt once more, feeling and hearing Elodie’s breath hitch at the sensation of him filling her up, his free arm next to her to keep himself above her. It was a symphony of his grunts and her breathless moans and skin slapping against skin and utterly losing themselves in one another. His motions were fluid and she received him completely, and Calum couldn’t keep himself from marking up her neck as he felt her nails digging into his back.

He could feel himself quickly reaching his high, but Calum fought himself, refusing to come undone until Elodie did first, no matter how difficult it felt after her mouth had worked him over. Praises fell past his lips, effortless in her worship, everything about her continuing to draw him closer and closer to the edge.

And when they lay in bed after the fact, utterly spent as they tried to catch their breaths with only one of his bedsheets covering them, there was a mutual, silent understanding between them that this was. . . Perfect. That laying in bed, warm bodies bare and pressed together under the sheet, with her head laying on his chest and his arm wrapped around her, was a flawless and blissful image they both had yearned for.

Elodie’s fingers danced with his, gaze on the way she gently turned his hand to look at the mild discoloration of his knuckles. The reminder that he was injured, no matter how insignificant Calum paints it to be, because of someone in her life still ate away at Elodie. But she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a prickle of satisfaction, of adoration, that he wasn’t afraid of standing up for her. He defended her so easily when it took her so long to do so herself, and Elodie liked to think it was her having a wake up call of her own mixed in with a bit of courage from Calum himself that allowed her to be in the position she was in today. She counted herself so lucky that she went to the tattoo parlor with Dominique that day.

“I’m alright, y’know.” Calum’s voice was a low rasp from above her, and Elodie could feel the vibration of him speaking as her head remained against his chest. The way she was caressing his knuckles probably prompted him to speak up. “Doesn’t hurt or anythin’.”

Elodie bit her lower lip, which kind of still tingled from his dizzying kisses. As their fingers gently laced together, she surmised, “You’re just saying that so I won’t feel bad.”

“Hey.” There was a soft disapproving tone in his voice, hand snaking around her to tilt her chin up. Her dark eyes met his after briefly eyeing the bruise on his cheek, and there was a subtle crease between his eyebrows as he said, “I wouldn’t lie to you. And there’s nothing for you to feel bad about. He’s an ass and if I could break his nose again, I would.”

Elodie couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her at Nathan’s expense, the sound quirking up Calum’s lips as well as Elodie looked at him. His lips were as kissed as hers, a pretty flush on his cheeks that she knew was warming her own, and there was a contentment present in her chest that she only ever felt around him. It was enough to push all thoughts of her ex out of her head, irritated with herself for even having a single thought about him. The mere mention of him was a disservice to herself and Calum and the relationship they’d come to have.

So she sat up, pressing the sheet to her chest with one hand, Calum’s arm falling from around her shoulders as he looked at her now seated figure with raised eyebrows. “Come on—” she smiled, grabbing his hand. “I wanna try the pasta.”

Calum chuckled deeply, not one to say no as he followed her off the bed. He put his sweatpants back on as Elodie pulled up her underwear, taking Calum’s hoodie as he offered it to her before following him back into the kitchen. Duke raised his head from where he was on the couch, jumping off as his paws clattered on the floor and followed them as they helped themselves to the dinner Calum had made, needing to heat it up just like he’d said after he poured Duke his food as well.

They ended up on the couch, flickering the TV on with warm plates in their laps with The Office keeping them entertained. And as they watched and ate, Elodie couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the man sitting on the other end of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Her fork absently played with the pasta on her plate, too distracted by Calum; she felt her heart flutter in her chest, tickling, as she admired the way he laughed at the show, enough to push his cheeks up, uncaring of his bruise, and show off the crinkles by his eyes. He sat shirtless, tattoos on full display, bicep looking a bit too inviting as he held the plate with his left hand above his lap.

Just sitting here brought Elodie a sense of tranquility she’d never felt before, a warmth spreading across her skin as she took in a quiet breath. It was thrilling, how happy he made her, so easily and effortlessly. No wonder she was so willing to accept just how quickly she’d fallen in love with him.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @gorgeouslygrace @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf​ @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @fluffsshawn​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @tea4sykes @lukeinblue​ 

[masonscig]

first line tag game

thank you for the tag @crackerdumortain !!!!! yours were so much fun to read omg !!!!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

[disclaimer: i write for the choices fandom and some for litg so you’ll see a mix of those fandoms on this list LMAO]

1. stay [twc – mason x sofía]

The first time was casual. She had a knack for musing her thoughts aloud, tossing her harmless opinions out for anyone who’d catch them.

She was good at starting conversations in that way – while he’d never been one for talking.

She never did it with heavy topics, though.

2. thieves in the shadows [choices – blades au – mal x zilyana]

bullets pelted the crates they were crouched behind, wood splintering in every direction. bodies were strewn across the warehouse, the unmistakable pools of blood streaking across the stone.

“raine! to your left!” immy yelled her way, barely sparing her a glance before unloading her clip, shell casings clinking against the ground.

the gun trembled in yana’s hands. she’d shot one before – practice at the gun range, glass bottles in a back alley – but never a live target.

3. if we meet again [choices – open heart au – bryce x spencer] 18+

year one

The ride from the airport to her parents’ home was long and grueling, the slushy ice pelting the windshield barely passing for snow.

It was practically sub-zero outside, a stark difference between the mid seventies weather she’d just left.

4. clandestine [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

“hey. hey wake up –”

she stirred at the greeting, but jumped when he kicked the desk. her face contorted into a grimace, the imprint of her tweed jacket on her cheek outlined in pink. “hmm?”

“you fell asleep again,” he said, plopping a bag in front of her.

5. undying [choices – blades – mal x zilyana]

Zilyana stirred, resituating herself against Mal’s bare chest, feeling his arm instinctively tighten around her shoulders. When she realized she was missing the sound of his deep breathing, accompanied with an occasional soft snore, she cracked an eye open to see his chin tipped upwards, his gaze trained on the ceiling.

6. talent show [choices – platinum – shane x dom]

There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t cross his mind. Even since they were kids.

He admired so much about her – her fiery spirit, her drive, her unwavering tenacity.

And he’d been in love with Dom for as long as he could remember.

7. redeemed [choices – platinum – raleigh x dom]

As soon as he stepped off stage, he was shuffled to his tour bus, Fiona on his heels. She looked like the human embodiment of rage in a grey blazer, a look in her eye that made him thankful he wasn’t the one it was directed at – or at least he hoped he wasn’t the reason she was two seconds away from a murderous rampage.

8. hidden [choices – foreign affairs – blaine x carina] 18+

Her cheek slipped out of the palm of her hand, forehead smacking the desk, nearly jumping out of her skin at the abrupt awakening.

“Ow.”

She prodded the tender spot on her face, thankful her foundation was thick.

A soft snore caught her attention – next to her, Blaine was passed out. Leaning back in his chair, his head was thrown back, arms crossed against his chest, the textbook on its face in his lap.

9. is this fate? [litg au – bobby x mc] 18+

The peroxide was cold when it hit her skin, the liquid bubbling on her knee, relentlessly stinging. She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

“Sorry… should be over soon,” he murmured, wiping up the stray liquid that streamed down her leg with a small rag.

The heaviness of the atmosphere between them was almost too much to bear – they’d barely spoken since he helped her onto the counter in his small office, leg propped up between his own, where he sat in his desk chair.

10. asvista cove [litg college au – bobby x elena]

Bobby’s thumb flicked the lighter repeatedly until he got a consistent flame, moving slowly from left to right over the edge of the blunt. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked in, the tip of it an auburn ember. He pulled it out of his mouth and sucked in an even deeper breath, holding it.

When he blew out the thick cloud of smoke, he passed it to her, coughing under his breath. “Whew. Your turn.”

She followed suit, the thick smoke coating the inside of her lungs, bitter and heavy. She exhaled, the shroud smoke enveloping her view of the sealine.

11. reticent [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

She was bare.

Bare in the way that one is when they’ve been stripped down and torn apart with a trained gaze just calculating enough for them to feel seen – parts of her she didn’t know she’d hidden splayed out like withered pages of a book, dog-eared and marked up like a frequently reread novel.

One he’d reread because it was familiar, because it had fallen into his lap (he hadn’t searched for it), not so much because it was his favorite.

12. more [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

He laced his fingers through her thick hair, reveling in the way his skin looked contrasted against the midnight of her hair.

[the way i can’t post more than this bc it’s....... very nsfw right out the bat LMFAO]

13. calm before the storm [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

14. envy | part two of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He strode down the hallway, hands in his pockets to give the illusion that he didn’t give a shit, when he was most definitely on edge. His fingers flicked his lighter open and closed against the twill lining of his pockets, trying to focus on the soft clicking noise it made instead of the swarm of thoughts clouding his conscience.

He still couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

15. comfort | part one of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He noticed it before she did.

Her pulse didn’t jump the same way it did the first dozen times he walked into the room. The blood didn’t rush to her cheeks, or creep up her neck, the crimson flush absent even when he tried his hardest to fluster her. And it normally took next to nothing to get her to turn into a bumbling mess.

16. out of time [choices – open heart – sienna x danny]

She sprinted down the hallway, pager still beeping erratically on her hip, the weight of the numbers enough to make her feel like she was slugging through wet concrete.

No, no, not him, please, not him, she chanted to herself, vision blurring with tears before she had the chance to let the negative possibilities set in.

17. unrequited part three [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

18. signs [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

“A final in sign language? Couldn’t you just have a conversation with the teacher or some shit?” Logan sat across from her on the couch, watching as her fingers bent and flexed, transfixed.

She stopped abruptly, screwing her mouth to the side in concentration. She repeated the same few moves, getting more and more frustrated with each sequence.

19. mementos [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

The sound of his boots slapping against the damp pavement reverberated off of the brick of the alleyways, his gasping breaths adding to the symphony that was his escape.

20. warmth [twc – mason x sofía]

“You’re going the wrong way,” Mason grunted, looking particularly stiff in her passenger seat.

“I thought we could take the scenic route,” she shrugged, flicking her high beams on as she turned off of the main road leading downtown, easing on the brakes when the tires hit the gravel.

okay so....... i didn’t really realize just HOW MUCH i’ve written since the summer? i’ve fallen into a pattern where i think i’m a failure bc of how slow i am to write because i have so many series i’ve started and dropped off and wips i’ve abandoned but.... i’ve managed to write for most appreciation weeks i’ve both hosted/participated in and i’ve written for THREE fandoms.... i don’t normally gas myself up but? i’m really? proud of myself? KSJDJKSD if you read this far thank you and you’re prob watching me have a breakdown over how much i’ve managed to write oh my GOD ok i need to lie down KLSDFKASFJD i didn’t even think i could hit 20 but i did???? alright i’m officially gonna treat myself at some point bc i did all this in less than a year.... these are from the end of july 2020 to now..... wow ok im done i promise SKDFJKSDF

tagging: @raleighcarrera and @pixeljazzy !!! <3 

[captainsassmanes]

Trissshhhhh I have a dialogue prompt for you from that list, and bc you know I freaking love angst. “Take me instead” for Malex

Warnings: This one is heavy. Tw: violence, descriptions of injuries, torture, cursing, Jesse Fucking Manes.

Alex’s vision blurred and he realized, slower than he would have liked, that he could see nothing out of his left eye. He sent out a quick prayer that it was just swelling, nothing permanent. 

What that meant, either way, was that he couldn’t clearly see the blows before they came anymore. Maybe a small blessing. Maybe really shitty luck.

“Did Max Evans heal Elizabeth Ortecho from a bullet wound?”

The voice of who he’d learned was Staff Sargent Mitchell menaced in his ear. 

Alex was in agony. He’d barely eaten in what he figured was weeks, his stomach twisting in a hunger so severe it ached. He’d been beaten everyday, his injuries never having the chance to begin healing. There was a cut on his arm he was sure had become infected and it sat in the perfect spot to send shooting pains straight up his dominant arm every few seconds.

The first few days, maybe a little longer, of his captivity, he’d fought back: pulled against his restraints, spit in Mitchell’s face, laughed in his father’s. He could still remember reasons to be free again and to keep his mouth shut. 

Michael. Kyle. Isobel. Michael. Max. Liz. Michael. Arturo. Mimi. Maria. Michael.

He’d repeat their names when he was alone in his cell, pitch black with the smell of dampness and mold filling his nostrils. He’d pull up memories of them, his brain filtering through them all to feature only the best ones.

Getting high with Maria and laughing for hours. Study sessions with Liz that were more milkshakes and gossip than anything else. Sparing with Isobel, watching confidence radiate off her. Waking up next to Michael, watching the sun light up his tan skin, watching his chest rise and fall, the feel of his chest hair, wiry and thick. The little snores he let out when he slept on his back. The way Michael’s hands felt on his own skin, callused and so full of love.

He never cried from the pain, from the fear, from the threats.

But he’d cried when he thought of Michael.

Eventually, unable to deny it, the reality of the situation set in. Alex figured he’d been held for about two weeks. The meetings with his father, demented, psychological warfare, evolved to insure Alex knew no one was looking for him. No one gave a shit. No one missed him.

Kyle continued to go to work, date his precious, new co-worker. Liz and Max were rekindling their romance while Rosa, who they’d discovered almost instantly, continued to dance in the shadows. Isobel was event planning during the day and, according to sources, blowing up bigger and bigger things in the middle of the night.

And then there were Michael and Maria.

Jesse never hesitated to keep Alex well informed with that relationship. The dates they went on. The visits to see Mimi. The hand holding. The love making. The laughter and the smiles.

It had been just a couple of evenings ago, Alex lying on his back, arm on fire and bleeding from his head, when the tears finally stopped. He pictured Michael and Maria, arms wrapped around one another, eyes locked with wide smiles painted across their beautiful faces. He imagined ease and comfort and simplicity. Kindness and consideration, dedication and loyalty.

“Keep them safe...happy,” Alex whispered to no one.

From that moment on, he tucked it all away; his emotions, his pain, his reactions. He had nothing to give them and refused to yield even an inch.

His eyes met Mitchell’s and Alex made no effort to move. He didn’t shrug or smirk or blink an eye. He would give them nothing.

“What exactly can Isobel Evans do?”

Alex was unmoved. He took the next hit, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth.

“Can Michael Guerin move objects with his mind?”

Alex felt a small wave of pride as he remained stoic at the mention of Michael’s name.

The next hit knocked him to the ground, the chair he was tied to coming right down with him. The military issues boots hurt like a son of a bitch, Alex feeling his insides bruising with each kick, until he couldn’t help but let out the vomit he’d been trying to hold back.

“Enough, Mitchell. Stand down.”

The kicking stopped as Mitchell took a few steps back and stood at attention. Jesse came to stand before him, feet still and silence filling the room.

“Pick him up.”

When they came face to face, Alex searched. He searched his father’s features for any indication that Jesse felt something, anything.

It was fruitless.

“This is all you’re gonna give us, son?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, not at the question but at the term of endearment.

With a shallow breath, ribs screaming in protest, he mumbled, “you’ve already taken everything. I’m not giving you shit. Dad.”

Jesse nodded, a familiar look of disappointment in his eyes. “Very well.”

The walk down the long hall felt surprisingly freeing. Alex knew this was it, the end of his journey. Jesse and whoever else was working for him had done what they could to get any information out of him. They must have realized he wouldn’t speak and no one cared enough to try to save him.

So it was time.

He wondered briefly if the stories his mom used to tell him as a boy were true. A great warrior may be able to rest in a peaceful, safe afterlife, or maybe reincarnate as human again to try once more, to live another noble life. Or, perhaps, his sins were too great. He’d end up falling into an abyss for eternity or come back but as a roach or something.

Truthfully, he’d never given much thought to death. Losing his leg had changed that a bit but he still did what he could to focus on the present, moment to moment. Maybe that helped him now. He still felt more curious than afraid.

Alex just hoped for peace.

As the small group turned the final corner, he was pushed back as the sound of guns cocking echoed through the space.

He craned his neck, trying to see what had happened, but couldn’t see past the mammoth solider in front of him.

“Stand down. Now. Hands up.”

“Aw, c’mon now, boys. No way to greet a visitor, is it?”

Alex stumbled a bit, head spinning and heart racing. It wasn’t possible. Not now when he was ready.

If he was being honest, there were nights, bitter, lonely, angry nights when he hated his friends, hated Michael for leaving him, abandoning him completely when he needed them most. He wasn’t the best friend but he did what they needed, helped where he could, took the blows he was dealt. And it got him what? Kidnapped. Left to be tortured and die. Alone.

But once he’d rested, once the blood stopped pulsing so loudly in his ears, he knew it was best. It was what he truly wanted. He’d never want Michael or the Evans’ to risk their safety, their secret, for him. And his other friends, they wouldn’t stand a chance against these fucking sadists.

It was best for all of this to end with him.

But now, as Michael stood in the space that was meant for Alex’s last moments, he couldn’t think.

“You’re nothing in here, Mr. Guerin.” His father’s voice was laced with condescension and excitement.

“Take me instead.”

Alex stopped breathing. Michael’s voice sounded calm and even, bordering on arrogant if that was possible with at least six guns pointed at him. Alex tried to speak but Mitchell beat him.

“If you haven’t noticed, asshole, you’re already taken.”

The sound of Michael’s laugh hit Alex’s ears and, beyond all reason, he smiled. That sound was so rare Alex couldn’t help but treasure it every time, even in the most dire of circumstances.

“Am I?” He felt the soldiers in front of him shift, a sudden change in the air. “Tell me, Master Sargent, why are you under the impression that I’m nothing?”

Alex grit his teeth and grimaced with the pain as he stretched as tall as he could. His eyes locked with Michael’s and Alex knew. There had been a plan. Thank fuck Michael had a plan.

The urge to sob and be held against Michael’s chest, wrapped in his strong arms was overwhelming.

“This place is so loaded with powder you won’t be able to shift a paper clip you fucking freak.”

Alex watched as Michael’s curls danced, moving with the nodding of his head.

“Yikes. I guess I didn’t realize. But I do have one more question.” He pointed to himself as he added, “curious by nature.”

He watched the hands of the soldier in front of him begin to shake, fingers gripping his weapon a bit too tightly. Alex smirked. Maybe they were starting to put it together.

With a voice suddenly full of anger and vitrol, Michael asked the room, “how the fuck do you think I got in here?”

In the blink of an eye, a force Alex couldn’t see pushed him against the wall, air leaving him with the strength of it. He gazed in wonderment, as if watching a movie or a perfect moment of a play, as the soldiers firearms all turned to white doves, flying confused and frightened around the space.

Each soldier died without Michael needing to move a muscle, his face unchanged, although his eyes had shifted from a stunning hazel to completely black. Alex thought he’d never looked better.

When the final man fell to the floor in a bloody pile, Michael turned that black, empty gaze to Alex. Jesse floated out of the room, chin lifted and struggling for air, and into the hall, toes barely touching the now stained linoleum.

Alex understood Michael’s silent question.

With difficulty, Alex stood, discovering his restraints had literally vanished. He met his father’s glare, searching one, last time for some semblance of shame, regret, sadness. He found nothing but disgust and hatred.

Cradling his core, Alex stood straight, the Manes man his father had always wanted him to be. He didn’t remove his eyes from his fathers and his voice didn’t waiver as he said, “lock him in and blow it up.”

Jesse’s body flew backward and into the room with his ever-obedient team. He landed on the floor, on his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air.

Michael had moved to stand beside Alex, eyes now the stunning gold he normally wore, and took Alex’s bloody, broken hand in his.

“Don’t worry, Jesse.” Michael brought Alex’s hand up to his mouth and placed a delicate, gentle kiss to the back of it, mouth coming away scarlet with blood. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Jesse snarled and moved to stand before the door slammed shut and locked, Jesse’s screams slipping under the space of the door.

Alex stood, stunned, that it was finally over, that Michael was here, that Jesse would be gone, that he would live.

“We’ve gotta go.”

Alex nodded but didn’t move.

“Will you, Michael?”

“Will I what, Alex?”

He was too exhausted to keep the break from his voice. “Take care of me.”

Michael smiled as Alex felt his body become immeasurably lighter, moving without making any effort at all. Michael wrapped an arm around Alex and pulled him into his side.

“Forever if you’ll let me.”

Alex never imagined his happy ending would begin with an explosion.