#anyway i was meant to go to bed like literally 6 hours ago. and then i had an autism moment and now i'm here. so

[makeela]

[slaps miquella on the back] this little guy can hold so many alter egos

ok. here it is. my gigantic tinhat thesis about Miquella and my belief that he is, in fact, like, just so many different guys. at the same time. or, well, mostly women, actually. diversity win!

Disclaimer: this post assumes in large part that you already know a fair bit of the “established lore”. Some things may only be mentioned in passing or glossed over for this reason.

lets fucking go

Miquella and St Trina

Relevant item descriptions:

“Candlestand torch that burns with a light-purple flame. The carvings depict St. Trina, but in adult form, somewhat unnervingly. The light-purple flame induces sleep.” (St. Trina’s Torch, found in the Consecrated Snowfield)

“Silver sword carried by clerics of St. Trina. Inflicts sleep ailment upon foes. St. Trina is an enigmatic figure. Some say she is a comely young girl, others are sure he is a boy. The only certainty is that their appearance was as sudden as their disappearance.” (Sword of St. Trina, found at the Forsaken Ruins south of the Divine Tower of Caelid) “Tree branch blessed with an incantation of unalloyed gold. Craftable item. Pierce a foe, using FP to turn them into a temporary ally. The Empyrean Miquella is loved by many people. Indeed, he has learned very well how to compel such affection.” (Bewitching Branch)

“A record of crafting techniques left by a man who was utterly captivated by St. Trina. He continued the search for her in his slumber. Acquire the knowledge to craft the following: - Bewitching Branch” (Fervor’s Cookbook[3], obtained from Gideon in Roundtable Hold after entering Mohgwyn Palace and resting at a Site of Grace)

This one was kind of a given, but is important to mention for subsequent tie-ins. Given these item descriptions, plus cut quest content from a character named Rhico, which was meant to end in the Consecrated Snowfield after helping him travel in dreams in his search for St. Trina (written below) it’s fairly easy to assume that Miquella and St. Trina were, at least at one point, the same person.

“You know, a holy personage was once abducted from these lands. Thus I am here in search of clues that might unravel the mystery. The abductor's bloody footprints are said to have disappeared in the Forest of Ancient Bowers. Finally, I have found it! St. Trina's, no, Lord Miquella's cadaver.” 

Empyreans, as We Know Them

According to Ranni upon doing her quest, there are currently three (technically two, if you don’t count Ranni herself, which she does not) distinct Empyreans. Herself, Malenia, and Miquella.

“I was once an Empyrean. Of the demigods, only I, Miquella, and Malenia could claim that title. Each of us was chosen by our own Two Fingers, as a candidate to succeed Queen Marika, to become the new god of the coming age."

However, if you look deeper into item descriptions, you’ll find out there was a fourth Empyrean: The Gloam-Eyed Queen. 

“Superior Black Flame incantation of the Godskin Apostles. Summons a circle of Black Flame pillars around the caster. Charging increases the size of the circle. The Gloam-Eyed Queen led the apostles. It is said that she was an Empyrean chosen by the Fingers.” (Black Flame Ritual)

Now, at this point it’s worth noting that there are only two required qualifications to be an Empyrean. You must be chosen by your own Two Fingers, and you have to be a direct descendant of exclusively a god. Ignoring the specifics of Ranni’s parentage (something to get into later, but not on this post), unless Marika and Radagon had additional children or there’s another god floating around, our options are very slim for who it might be.

“Remembrance of Malenia, Goddess of Rot, hewn into the Erdtree. The power of its namesake can be unlocked by the Finger Reader. Alternatively, it can be used to gain a great bounty of runes. Miquella and Malenia are both the children of a single god. As such they are both Empyreans, but suffered afflictions from birth. One was cursed with eternal childhood, and the other harbored rot within.” (Remembrance of the Rot Goddess)

The Gloam-Eyed Queen and Why She’s Important

The Gloam-Eyed Queen was an Empyrean who went toe-to-toe with Marika, which eventually led to Marika removing the Rune of Death from the Elden Ring and sealing it in Farum Azula, a realm separate from the Lands Between where time works differently. The Gloam-Eyed Queen presided over the Godskins, and more importantly, raised(/potentially birthed) them. She was eventually defeated by Maliketh, and Destined Death — alongside her and her disciples’ ability to kill Gods — was sealed away.

“Sacred cloth of the Godskin Apostles, made from supple skin sewn together. Successive attacks restore HP. The Gloam-Eyed Queen cradles newborn apostles swaddled in this cloth. Soon they will grow to become the death of the gods.” (Godskin Swaddling Cloth, found after defeating the Spirit-Caller Snail in the Spiritcaller cave, located in the Mountaintops of the Giants)

“Sacred sword of the Gloam-Eyed Queen who controlled the Godskin Apostles before her defeat at the hands of Maliketh. The Black Flames wielded by the apostles are channeled from this sword.” (Godslayer Greatsword)

“Robe made by sewing together patches of smooth skin. Worn by the Godskin Apostles. The apostles, once said to serve Destined Death, are wielders of the god-slaying Black Flame.  But after their defeat by Maliketh, the Black Blade, the source of their power was sealed away.” (Godskin Apostle Robe)

So now that we know all of that, what’s so important about her? Firstly, she rose in direct defiance of the Golden Order: while we don’t know what her motivations were exactly, we know that she could wield Destined Death and could kill not only Marika, but would have been in a position to kill an Outer God, as well. As far as we know, Malenia had no intention to inherit the Elden Ring, and was fully in service to her brother. This leaves only two obvious possibilities (not including a third, which will be mentioned later): Ranni and Miquella, who both are clearly resentful of the Golden Order, though for different reasons. While it’s conceivable that Ranni could’ve been the Gloam-Eyed Queen, especially given her close proximity to Destined Death with the Night of Black Knives, something like that wouldn’t have been necessary for her to shed her body if she had control over Destined Death in the first place — she would’ve been able to shed her Empyrean flesh long before Maliketh sealed away Destined Death. This leaves Miquella.

Miquella’s Haligtree and His Purpose "... Only... a little further now... Show me the path, O gentle lights... the path to Elphael." (Lost Spirit NPC, Consecrated Snowfield)

Miquella’s Haligtree, hidden behind a waygate in the Albinauric town of Ordina, is presented to the player as a place those shunned by the Golden Order could turn to. You’re first made aware of it in Liurnia upon meeting Albus, who gives you the right half of the Haligtree Medallion and urges you to seek out Latenna, so that you might help her journey to the Consecrated Snowfield.

“A chosen land awaits us Albinaurics. The medallion is the key that leads to the city. It's only a quaint treasure, for we who cannot make the journey. But for dear Latenna, it is needed. To fulfill her purpose.” (Albus dialogue)

“Flanged iron cap adorned with a crown of unalloyed gold. Increases faith. Worn by foot soldiers sworn to the Haligtree. Who is that Miquella shall bless, if not the low and the meek?” (Sacred Crown Helm)

“Silver helm of Loretta, a Knight who served Miquella's Haligtree. Loretta, once a royal Carian Knight, went on a journey in search of a haven for Albinaurics, and determined that the Haligtree was their best chance for eventual salvation.” (Royal Knight Helm)

Upon arrival, you find Haligtree town full to the brim with Misbegotten, who are well-known to be oppressed under the Golden Order. (You’ll also find several Spirit-Caller Snails — this is important for later.) 

This was not, however, Miquella’s original intent in creating the Haligtree. His initial goal was to cure Malenia of the affliction she’s suffered since birth: the Scarlet Rot, and later, free Godwyn from his half-life as the Prince of Death. Since this was something that wasn’t viable under the Golden Order, he split off to create his own Erdtree that could hopefully help in curing his siblings. This research led him to Unalloyed Gold, which, short of removing the Outer Gods entirely, is a way to stall their affliction. This is shown both in the case of Scarlet Rot (Malenia’s armor and prosthetics, Cleanrot Knight armor, Haligtree/Elphael Knight armor) as well as the Frenzied Flame (Unalloyed Gold Needle). 

“One of the incantations of the Golden Order fundamentalists. A gift of gratitude to the young Miquella from his father, Radagon. Produces a golden ring of light and fires it across a wide area. Charging enhances range. And yet, the young Miquella abandoned fundamentalism, for it could do nothing to treat Malenia's accursed rot. This was the beginning of unalloyed gold.” (Radagon’s Rings of Light)

Before looking at how this all comes together, it’s also important to note that in Kale’s cut questline, we see that St. Trina would sing to the merchants to try and stave off the Frenzied Flame. This is the same song that some merchants can be found playing. Link to a youtube video containing the entire cut questline can be found here: https://youtu.be/LK_8F_XwLaE

Where Miquella and the Gloam-Eyed Queen Come Together

Let’s start with the obvious. All Godskins are weak to sleep — in fact, Godskin Duo is the only main story boss receptive to sleep past a brief stagger. Continuing on the sleep thread, all spirit-type enemies (Fia’s Champions, Niall/O’Neil adds, Spirit Soldiers in Castle Sol, etc.) are immune to sleep with the exception of the spirit versions of the Godskin Duo that you fight in the Spiritcaller cave and Spirit-Caller Snails. Despite the name, Spirit-Caller Snails are classified as Those Who Live In Death. Regardless, they are also the only enemy of this type not immune to sleep. As we know already, St. Trina is associated with sleep, and we have established for our purposes here that St. Trina and Miquella are one in the same, and given the fact that these are both outliers specifically because they can be slept, it’s hard not to draw a conclusion between the two. 

(As a note, I don’t think Spirit-Caller Snails on their own are SUPER hard evidence or anything, but laying out that they are all either related by Mohg, Miquella, or Godskins even coincidentally is kind of important)

It’s also definitely worth mentioning that there are only three instances of Spirit-Caller Snails outside of the Haligtree. The first is the faux Godskin Duo who drop the Godskin Swaddling Cloth on defeat, as well as lesser Spirit-Caller Snails in the same cave who summon wolves and (more importantly) disciples of Okina. For those who may not remember, Bloody Finger Okina is the NPC invasion in Mountaintops who drops Rivers of Blood. The second instance is in the Leyndell Catacombs — you know, the ones at the bottom of the sewers, where you can find Mohg’s shackle. This Spirit-Caller snail is protecting the Haligdrake Talisman +1. Lastly, and least importantly (or maybe not, depending on how you feel about “the arbitrary number is the same so therefore it MUST mean something”), in Road’s End Catacombs there is a Spirit-Caller snail that summons Crucible Knights Siluria and Ordovis. On its own this doesn’t mean much, but overall there are seven illusory walls in the dungeon, which strangely enough matches up with the Godskin Noble Robe item description: 

“Robe made by sewing together patches of smooth skin. Subcutaneous fat makes it plump and soft. Worn by Godskin Nobles, known for their seven-face aprons. Strengthens the Noble Presence incantation. Nobles are the most ancient apostles who are said to have assimilated inhuman physiology. Not unlike the crucible, the Erdtree in its primordial form.”

Now, let’s talk about the Black Flame Protection incantation. It’s given to you by Gideon after you arrive at the Haligtree and return to Roundtable Hold. This is the item description:

“A Black Flame incantation of the Godskin Apostles. Summons black fire within, increasing physical damage negation. However, sacred flasks and other such forms of HP restoration are impaired. The Apostles were all embraced by the Gloam-Eyed Queen, and the Black Flame was their armor within.”

Within the context of what and whom Miquella welcomed at the Haligtree — and the fact that this is given to you upon entering the Haligtree — it seems far from unlikely that he would turn away Godskins on his doorstep. 

Other things that are interesting but inconclusive/not worth a full paragraph:

The location where you get the Sword of St. Trina is pretty close to the Divine Tower of Caelid, where you fight a Godskin Apostle for their armor set and the Godslayer Greatsword

Miquella likely has some type of connection to the crucible, or something similar spawned from the Haligtree, considering it was basically a “proto-Erdtree” and Miquella was trying to grow his own; this could have led to physical deformities in the Godskin Nobles if they were present

Black Flame Monks are just Flame Monks that abandoned the Giantsflame in lieu of Black Flame. Doesn’t really have much to do with anything other than proximity, since Giantsflame originates in the Mountaintops

Expanding upon this point, the Black Flame Monk Amon ashes are found on the Hidden Path to the Haligtree after defeating the hidden stray Mimic Tear. Item description states that he was the first of the Flame Monks to convert.

Millicent’s optional quest location that lets you summon her at Dominula (Windmill Village) to fight the Godskin Apostle. This is available only after giving her the Valkyrie’s Prosthesis at the Erdtree-Gazing Hill, which means her route from that Site of Grace to the DTS outside Leyndell (her next summon location) is much longer than necessary, and there’s no plot reason for her to have gone there.

What About Melina?

Disclaimer: very little of this is supported by actual in-game item descriptions or text. This is based almost entirely off of my own inferences and a few lore tidbits.

Earlier I mentioned that there was another possibility for who the Gloam-Eyed Queen could be. This is, of course, Melina. She’s an extremely popular choice for people’s depictions of the Gloam-Eyed Queen, especially since in the Frenzied Flame ending she’s shown to have one purple (“gloam”) colored eye, and she promises to deliver the Tarnished Destined Death. 

“Lord of Frenzied Flame... I will seek you, as far as you may travel... To deliver you what is yours. Destined Death.”

She also has multiple burn scars that would be consistent with either Black Flame or Destined Death, and upon sacrificing herself to burn the Erdtree and grant the Tarnished entry into Farum Azula, she says,

“The one who walks alongside flame, Shall one day meet the road of Destined Death. Good-bye.”

She also brings up being “burned and bodiless” upon resting at a Grace in Altus Plateau for the first time, and later explains that she only has a physical body at the foot of the Erdtree, in Leyndell.

“The Erdtree...is close. Only a little further till the foot of the Erdtree, and the accord is fulfilled. It takes me back. I was born at the foot of the Erdtree. Where mother gave me my purpose. Though now, everything is lost to me. I...have to ascertain for myself. The reason for which I live, burned and bodiless.”

“My utmost thanks. For bringing me to the base of the Erdtree. Here, I can govern my own movement. And thus, the accord is fullfiled. I shall depart to ascertain the purpose I was given.”

Now, it’s not that I think Melina wasn’t the Gloam-Eyed Queen! Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s important to note here that we do not, for sure, know Melina’s parentage, but from context clues (born at the foot of the Erdtree, purpose given to her by her mother which she shirks upon getting to the Mountaintops, semi-corporeal form consistent with curses put on Malenia and Miquella) we can assume that her parents were Radagon and Marika. The problem is that she would’ve had to have been a hidden child, something that seems impossible to do, especially within the more omniscient scope of item descriptions that don’t even remotely mention a secret child but do mention other “secret” things, like Radagon/Marika being the same person, or the existence of Mohg and Morgott.

Truthfully, I’m not certain Melina exists at all. Or, at least, I don’t believe she exists in the traditional sense — her existence and consciousness are very real, but are probably more in line with, say, Radagon. Let me explain.

Miquella is the strongest Empyrean of all. This is stated outright by Malenia, and given what we know of him, there’s no reason not to believe her. He’s the spitting image of Marika, because he’s essentially a clone of her. 

“Winged helm made of unalloyed gold. Worn by Malenia, Blade of Miquella. Malenia awaited Miquella at the foot of the husk. "My brother will keep his promise. He possesses the wisdom, the allure, of a god—he is the most fearsome Empyrean of all." (Malenia’s Winged Helm)

Of course, he’s not as strong as Marika, due to the birth defect that keeps him in a child’s body, which is why he chose to go into slumber in a cocoon — so that he might overcome his curse and ascend to godhood. Despite this, I do think he would be capable of splitting himself off similarly to Marika, though perhaps not in quite as solid a form, perhaps due to the fact that he’s in a “dream” state, so interactions with the  “real” world may be fuzzier and less clear. This could also potentially explain why Melina was in possession of the Spectral Steed Whistle, which clearly belonged to Miquella prior to the events of the game. This is evidenced not only in the fact that the whistle is very similar in appearance to other unalloyed items, but also in the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC art, he appears to be riding Torrent.

This would also provide an explanation on how Melina has so many clear memories of Marika without technically being her daughter, and why she’s able to stave off the Frenzied Flame in the Lord of Frenzy ending — she’s resistant by the same logic that St. Trina was when she attempted to keep the Merchants from joining the Frenzy Hivemind. 

Of course, there’s not loads of evidence here either way. Melina is a mysterious character with very little actual lore to speak of, despite being a “main” character, but I do think her being split off from Miquella, especially as an instrument for him to work in the waking world, goes a long way to fill in inconsistencies left when you take her at face value. 

If you’ve managed to make it this far, thank you so much! I’ve been brewing all of this in my head for months. I’m aware that a lot of it is VERY tinhat theory, but I do think there are solid leads that could amount to something. There are too many coincidences for them all to be… coincidences, you know?

Once again, thanks so much for reading!

[samkerrworshipper]

Would you please be able to write something about you getting the call up for the WC and calling Sam afterwards crying. Just lots of fluff xx

Thank you

the phone call | sam kerr x lionesses reader

sorry my lovelies… i’m still yet to leave bed because of this pain flare up

sorry if i’m not interacting with your messages and kind words.. trying to limit my screen time but i promise im seeing them all and it means the world to me

for now you all get some little drabbles that are sitting in my drafts xo

It’s 6pm.

The calls were supposed to start going out at 4 and it’s 6.

You’re paralysed, stuck to your spot on the couch, your feet anxiously tied up in the blanket draped over you as you stare down at your phone, patiently awaiting a call.

It hasn’t been an easy ride to get to this point, almost a year ago you were lying in a hospital bed, unmoving and unsure whether you’d ever walk again, let alone be in contention to play football for your country.

You’ve worked your ass off, tens of hundreds of hours in the gym, rehabbing, working on your strength, all for this call.

You know realistically that the longer you’re left waiting, the longer that your chances are depleting.

Coaches make the easiest calls first, the starting eleven, then their moving bench, players who will still get plenty of time on the pitch, then they move onto the maybe players, players whose skill sets might be needed depending on the team, then it’s onto the emergency players, then it’s the fillers, players that are just kind of on the squad because of courtesy, even though the chances that they will play is next to nothing.

In your mind, you fall into some place between the last two, Sarina doesn’t owe you anything though, the last time you played for her was the Euro’s semi final, when everything went to shit for you and sure, you’ve worked hard since then, but sometimes hard work isn’t always enough, especially in the world of soccer politics.

You sent Sam out of the house to run some errands half an hour ago, insisting you would be fine, but right now you wished you hadn’t, because there is nothing you need more than to be cuddled up in your fiancé’s arms.

She’s been there for you every single step of the way, quite literally being the person who helped you walk your first steps after surgery.

The road has been tough for the both of you, and you know there is nothing Sam wants more than for you to be with her in Australia over the Summer.

If it isn’t meant to be, then it isn’t, you’ll be there anyways on the sidelines supporting her but there is something so much more satisfying about knowing that you might get to be on the pitch beside her.

You don’t know what you’ll do if you are back in the squad, sure you’ve been to the last two camps, but being named in the actual squad is something else, especially for the world cup, it would mean the whole world to you.

Your thoughts are enough to drain out the ping from messages, but the desperate vibration in your hands isn’t.

Your eyes dart down to the screen, bursting open like you’d just consumed a energy drink when Sarina’s name pops up on your screen.

‘If you have a spare minute would love to chat whenever your free.’

You’ve been free since 12pm last night, sleep didn’t come for you, instead you’d sat by the phone, waiting for any kind of notification.

Sam had tried her hardest to pry you away, forcing you to come on a morning run with her, which was extremely abnormal, neither you or Sam where runners, but you assumed it was just your girlfriend trying to make you feel a little bit better.

You typed at your phone like a mad man, unwilling to miss this precious window that seemed to have opened for you, you didn’t even had the chance to actually think about Sarina actually calling you, too busy furiously tapping at the keyboard on your phone.

‘Free to chat whenever suits you’

You didn’t have much time to look at your text, mere seconds after the bubble went blue Sarina’s contact was popping up on your screen.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do much more than aggressively tap the green button and watch as the call connected and Sarina’s face popped up on your screen.

“Y/n, good to see you, how’s your day been? I’ve been told there is quite a storm in London today?”

You don’t want to talk about weather, or this as trivial as how your day is going, but you put a smile on for Sarina anyways, a cute little smile that you normally save for press conferences after a particularly bad match or rough game.

“Sarina, it’s an honour as always, I’m doing well thanks, the weather is definitely shocking but we’re used to it, how’s it doing in the Netherlands?”

Sarina smiles at you, and it makes you feel a little bit uneasy, why can’t she just rip the bandaid off.

“It’s nice today, blue skies. How’s Sam? I don’t know if I had the chance to congratulate you on your engagement yet.”

You put on another little smile, trying to act like the nerves growing in your stomach aren’t bubbling up so badly that you feel as if you’re about to vomit.

“Sam’s good, we’re very happy, I’ve sent her out to get groceries which I’m regretting because she hasn’t got a clue what we need.”

Sarina laughs heartily, and it’s almost enough to make you feel a little bit better about the whole situation.

“Well I hope she’ll be happy to know that you’ll be in Australia over the Summer playing for England, if you’d like?”

All thoughts in your brain are cut off when you catch onto what Sarina is saying and then all of a sudden you can feel the tears building up in the back of your eyes.

“You’re serious? You want me in Australia?”

Sarina just laughs once again.

“You were part of our winning Euro’s team y/n, there is nothing I would love more than to welcome you back. You are a crucial part of our defence, especially with Leah missing and there is nothing we need more than your leadership. You’ve been fantastic on the pitch recently, both club and at camp, if you keep performing as you are, I think you’ll be very deserving of taking your place back in the starting eleven, how does that sound?”

You have to put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from sobbing.

“Thank you so much Sarina, you genuinely don’t know how much this means to me, I’ll prove to you everyday that I deserve to be there and I’ll do whatever I can on and off the pitch to help the team.”

Sarina just smiles to herself.

“I don’t doubt that at all, all I ask is that you try your hardest, I’ll let you go now y/n, have a good couple of weeks, I’ll see you at the airport.”

Before you can embarrass yourself any further, you're wishing Sarina farewell and pressing the red button at the bottom of your screen.

It takes a few seconds for it all to set in for you, the happenings of your phone call slowly sinming into your brain.

It’s when it all sinks in that you realise tears are still dripping down your face, and before you can think about it too hard your searching for Sam’s contact and clicking the call button.

To Sam’s credit, it takes about three seconds before your girlfriends face pops up on your screen.

“I think I might need a shopping list- baby why are you crying?”

Just looking at Sam makes you perk up a little bit, she’s all flustered which you don’t see very often.

“Sarina called, I’m in the squad, she wants me in the squad.”

Just saying it creates a whole other wave of emotions of flowing, and this time you don’t even try to stop the sobs leaving your mouth.

Sam lights up immediately.

“Baby, that is awesome, I’m not surprised at all, I’m leaving the shops now, I’ll be home in five minutes we can talk about it then, hmm?”

You nod eagerly, a big smile breaking out across its face.

“I’m so proud of you babe, you’ve worked so hard for this, I’ll be home in a couple of minutes, okay?”

You just nod at Sam, far to giddy to do much besides jerk your head up and down like a energised puppy.

You weren’t quite sure what the future held for your Summer in Australia, but you that no matter what, no matter the injuries, setbacks, bad games, Sam would be there for you through it all, she’d be there for you, no matter what side of the dug out you were sitting on.

[friendlylifecherry]

Kiyotaka Week Day 3: AU. Mastermind Ishimaru AU. Unedited, mostly

@mini-mecha-cowboy

It's rather late in the night and Taka is doing the old, familiar dance of speaking to Izuru inside of his dorm room. It's just that this time, it's through one of the Monokumas instead of with the communicator.

"I really have to say, Kamukura-kun, this was an excellent first day as Monokuma. I'm quite proud of your performance! I was actually pretty worried when you didn't want me to know what you were going to do for Monokuma, but your performance was actually very well-actuated! I’m very proud of you, Kamukura-kun!” Taka says as he changes into his sleep clothes.

Izuru rolls his eyes behind the monitors, mostly focused on putting together the assets for the first Monokuma theater. He knows that Taka is proud of him, it’s nothing at all new for anything that Izuru does. It’s not like Izuru has to bother putting on the act here.

“It’s nothing. So, what do you expect will happen next?” Izuru says as Taka brushes his hair and teeth.

Taka spits out the toothpaste after he’s done thoroughly scrubbing his mouth. “Considering that I know the others quite well, I doubt they will start any sort of murder anytime soon. But this first murder does have to happen within the week.” After all, the news cycle already has a million other things to focus on outside of updates about these children trapped inside of a school with a murderous robot bear, even with a 24-hour live feed. If he wants to keep the attention of the media, he better have it clear that this is not some sick joke by a cultist but the real deal.

Izuru nods as he integrates the background music in the Monokuma Theater. “Motive or do we force the issue?”

Taka weighs his options. Just forcing the issue through some form of blackmail would be easy, but it wouldn’t send the message that he wants to send. No need to make a point about inherent human desperation when the first deaths happened because it was literally forced onto them. On the other hand, someone does have to be dead by the end of the week, and if they wait around, they may genuinely be waiting forever. And Izuru sure is not going to wait forever for his promised entertainment.

“How about this? If a murder doesn’t happen within the next 3 days, you can use one of the motives. If someone doesn’t get murdered after that, then we can start forcing the issue! Would that be acceptable?” Taka asks as he makes his nightly final rounds before he heads to bed.

“Can do!” Monokuma cheerily salutes Taka. Izuru’s working with the audio equipment. You have to make sure that the voice sounds the same in the Theater as it does in the live feed, or at least similar enough. “So, who do you want to bring in for plan B? Maybe your favorite thug?”

Taka turns bright red and chastizes Monokuma. “Mondo is not a thug!”

“So you’re *not* denying that he’s your favorite? I thought that you were supposed to be “impartial and fair”, Ishimaru-kun?” Ugh, Taka can already feel his face get redder and the headache start growing. Why does he even bother with these arguments? He never wins them anyway. Monokuma continues as if Taka didn’t interrupt him. “How about Oogami? She’s big and strong, and pretty much would have to listen to whatever we say if it has something to with our hostages.”

“Oogami-kun is a good choice, but I doubt that the dojo would be good enough collateral.” A centuries-old family dojo is all well and good, incredibly important, and almost a holy ground for Sakura. But the fact that it was burned down in an arsonist’s blaze (unrelated to the Ultimate Despair) about 6 months ago and all the members have been scattered to the winds in the refugee crisis is a bit of a snag on the effectiveness.

“Not that run-down old dojo, dummy! I meant her little boyfriend. Well, little compared to her right now, anyhow.” That actually draws Taka’s attention from organizing his papers.

“I thought that Kenshiro-kun was terminally ill with a severe cancer diagnosis?” Frankly, with the collapse of medical services, he should’ve died a while ago.

“Nope! He’s still kicking somehow! Ain’t the world’s strongest man for nothing, the weirdo! Gwahahahahaha!” Monokuma laughs at his hilarious “joke”. “He’s actually the one we got in custody right now!”

Well, that certainly makes things much easier for everyone. Provable collateral and if there’s anything about Sakura that he knows, she would do literally anything to protect her loved ones. Even kill or die for them.

“Well, that’s perfect! You can contact her as soon as possible, correct? Maybe make some implications that we can keep him alive as well, to really sell it.” Taka wants this to be locked down by the time that he wakes up, after all. "And after that, please get some sleep! A healthy mind and body start with proper rest!"

"Fine, fine. I gotta go now, since she's just done meditating. Buh-bye!" And with that, Monokuma disappears again.

The light on the camera in his dorm room comes back on, Izuru must be focused somewhere else and done with the conversation for the night. Well now, it’s off to dreamland for Taka! He would be a hypocrite if he didn't get his rest now! And with that, he shuts off the lights and drifts off to sleep.

[jodilin65]

Just when I thought it was over, things got bad again. I didn’t get sick but I had the worst acid reflux I’ve ever had in my life last night. My throat didn’t just burn but it hurt like hell! I was delayed getting to sleep because I had to sit propped up on my wedge pillow which is very hard to sleep on. Eventually, I was able to lie down flat and then settle onto my stomach so I could get into a deeper sleep. I was afraid that if I tried to sleep lying down sooner, I would choke.

Sometimes I really wish I would just get something that would kill me! I’m so sick of the never-ending fatigue and health issues!!! I almost feel like I’m being held prisoner in my own home. Yes, I’m a homebody 95% of the time but I would still like to do things at times. Every event I want to attend I happen to have to sleep through. Really wanted to give blood at the clubhouse on the 6th but I’m not going to be up before they’re done if I’m even feeling well enough. It’s okay, though. I don’t have to do this. I don’t have to play Bingo. I don’t have to take walks. I can just accept my so-called “calling” in life and spend half of it in bed. Why not? Most people dream of this, right?

Anyway, I was amazed I wasn’t nauseous on top of all the acid reflux kicking up in my throat last night but my stomach isn’t perfect either.

I’m just so damn drained not just because of the virus itself and the screwy sleep but the lack of nutrition. Even so, I already went back up a pound. I likely never lost fat but weight because my digestive tract emptied out. I tell you, I ain’t kidding when I say you could literally lock me in a room and starve me and I wouldn’t lose a damn pound. I really think some of us are simply the way we’re meant to be.

So I slept a little over 6 hours, began this entry, and then napped for a couple of hours. A little while ago, I was finally able to get up and get down a banana, some apple sauce, and saltines. Tom ran out to Publix and picked up some more chicken soup as well as fruits, veggies, and TV dinners. The only reason I got the processed sodium-laden things was because I don’t have the energy to cook. Hell, I can’t even clean the house.

We’ve gotta drop Walgreens and start getting our meds somewhere else because I am sick and fucking tired of them taking it upon themselves to make my medical decisions for me by refilling prescriptions I didn’t ask them to refill. Tom checked the site again, and we do have the auto-refill off. Yet they refused to honor our request to wait until we tell them to refill meds. I’m not ready for a levo refill for another couple of weeks and the decision as to when I have it refilled should be up to me.

Loving scented things as I do I got some eucalyptus oil going in the diffuser, but it’s not very strong-smelling. Maybe I didn’t put enough in and I’ll add some sandalwood to it. I burned some lavender incense earlier, but I only want to burn one stick a day. If I burn more I get congested.

Some activity going on at the honker’s but what else is new? Next month it’s out of here for a while. He has out-of-town visitors, but he must have picked them up at the airport because they used his truck while he went out on the motorcycle. Why have visitors if you’re not going to do things together? It’s his 60th birthday today, so maybe that’s got something to do with it. I didn’t wish him a happy birthday. He didn’t wish me one for mine in December.

I’m frustrated not only for obvious reasons when one gets sick, but I lost a little money since I haven’t been able to work online as much. Also, I would have finished the challenge and returned to Indiana had I not gotten sick. I did manage to do a few miles yesterday, and it was funny because I was toying with someone else on the road who joined the ride while I was on it. I don’t know if they realized what I was doing or if they cared, but whenever I would pause to change the radio station or skip songs, they would get ahead. But knowing I could go a little faster with my unique setup, I would eventually pass them. Then pause, let them pass, and back and forth. And I’m sure they were wondering how I was managing to pull that off because they weren’t stopping and they were pedaling steadily.

So I’ve gone from drowning to looming jail sentences to being attacked in my dreams. Two or three of the Mexican freeloader’s daughters from Phoenix walked by me eating by myself in a restaurant. Now all grown up, they magically knew who I was even if some were infants in the 90s and others may not have even existed.

They hurled threats and slaps at me and when I went to cover my face with my hands, they started slapping my stomach which was bare as I was wearing a crop top. After a minute of this, they took off and I automatically reached for my phone to call the cops, but then I hesitated. I knew they would not only be long gone, but I didn’t know their names or what the cops could do or that they would even care to do anything, knowing that minorities tend to be believed over non-minorities (the girls looked white, though).

I left the restaurant and resumed my walk home when next thing I knew, I was in Springfield. I recognized the voice of Laurie the cop talking to a couple of people. I only saw her from behind, though. Her butt and back were fat, I noticed, and then I went inside a building to get a drink. I became worried when I heard her voice as she too, entered the building a minute after I did, and I told myself I had to hurry up because if she saw me and recognized me, she certainly could and likely would hurt me.

[yourmidnightlover]

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

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you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore​

@spenxerslut​

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

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“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed 

-

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the “converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

-

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the  skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins.  “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, “Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.  

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

-

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims,  finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend”  and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

-

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something.  Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.”  She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

-

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

[taehyungs-perm]

midnight love - ch. 1

collab with @jimins-filter

jimin x reader; superhero au; childhood best friends to lovers au; ceo, billionaire philanthropist, playboy!jimin

genre: angst; lowkey funny; eventual smut

summary: playboy park jimin comes back to seoul city after disappearing for six years; too much has changed, especially you. living out your nights as nyx, seoul city’s dark knight, is a secret you’ve kept for as long as jimin’s disappeared. but what happens when a new hero named eros comes into town just as park jimin shows up at your front door…

word count: 5k

chapter 2

PLAYBOY BILLIONAIRE PARK JIMIN BACK IN SEOUL

You stared at the main headline on the trending page of Twitter, clutching a cup of iced coffee, desperately trying not to crush the plastic cup as you sat on your bed. You didn’t know if you should feel relieved or annoyed that Jimin was back in Seoul. You clicked on the headline and your phone was immediately filled with pictures and videos of strippers, people doing lines of coke, and a wealthy array of booze.

Of course Jimin did this. It was so on brand of him: to go missing for six years and then show up unannounced and throw a giant, extravagant party (at his newly purchased penthouse in downtown Seoul, of course). In the most simplest terms, you were pissed. Even after all these years, you had held out some hope that when he came back the first thing he would do is come see you or call you. But nothing. No text, no call, hell not even a letter. You scoffed at your naivety. You clearly didn’t matter to him.

You rubbed your head in annoyance and threw your phone on the bed, trying to expel any thought of Park Jimin and focus on the case you had pulled up on your laptop. You’ve been working at it for a week now and any and all concentration you had mustered while drinking your 7th cup of coffee went down the drain when you heard a sharp ring from your phone. You picked it up from where you threw it on your bed, the phone screen illuminating your face in the dim light of your room. It was an unknown number. You hesitated for a second. It could be a work-related call, you realize, quickly picking up the call.

“Hello?” you answered, skeptical.

“______?”

What the fuck? How did he get your number? Your mind was racing with thoughts, thoughts that you had long since repressed ever since he left without a word. When you didn’t respond, he repeated your name again. His voice was as silky and calming as it was last time you heard it six years ago.

“Jimin?” you whispered, scared that this was all an illusion, that his voice would just suddenly disappear. 

As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you couldn’t. You really couldn't. He was your kryptonite. From covering for him when he skipped detention to writing his college essays, you would do anything for him. Well, you used to. That was a different time, a different you. Back then, you knew you could depend on Jimin like he depended on you. But that was before he broke your heart and your trust.

“______” he said giggly. He was drunk. Why are you not surprised?

A surge of annoyance went through you.

“Back from the dead?” you asked, dryly

“It sure feels like hell since you're not here. Why didn’t you come?” he whined.

“Where? To the brothel you call a home?” You let out a shaky laugh of disbelief. “ I had work,  Jimin. In case you’ve forgotten, some of us actually have a job.”

“I missed you.” he said in a feather light tone, sending shivers down your spine.

You wanted to believe him, every ounce of your being wanted to believe he meant those words. But you knew Jimin. He was irresponsible, he was a playboy, he was reckless, and most of all, he was a liar.

“Jimin, what do you want?”  you said exasperated.

“I want you. Can you please come over? I just wanna see you. That’s all I want. I don’t want this party and I don’t want anyone in my house except you.”

God, he can spew some bullshit. “I have to work Jimin. I can't come over. I have shit to do” you said coldly.

“Please? I know fucked up ______ I know I did. And I’m sorry. I'm trying to make things right. With us.”

And just like that you were 18 again, falling for his words and his empty promises.

“Jimin..” you said trailing off, unsure of what to do. You offhandedly glanced at your clock, it read 1:25 am. It wasn’t that late. You normally didn’t go to sleep until 3:00 am anyways.

“My driver’s already at your house” he said quickly.

“Fine. But I’m only staying for 20 minutes. Then your driver is going to take me straight back home. Got it?”

“Got it, darling.”

You glanced in the mirror. You were wearing grey sweatpants with an unzipped grey hoodie, revealing your white Calvin Klein bra. Your hair was falling out of the braid you had put it in a few hours ago, with a few strands covering your eyes. You were tempted for a moment to change, maybe wash your face, but then the familiar surge of annoyance came back. You were there to hear whatever bullshit excuse Jimin had, nothing else, nothing more; it didn't matter what you looked like, the last person on earth you had to impress was Jimin.

You slipped on some slides and walked out of your apartment, spotting the black Mercedes on your driveway. You felt a gust of brisk air hit you as you slid into the backseat of the car.

“Ms. ______?” the driver called from the front seat, his eyes meeting yours through the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” you said, shivering from the cold.

“Mr. Park insisted I come here to pick you up, if that’s alright?”

“It’s fine. But this is a short visit. I won't be staying there long.”

The driver nodded and reversed onto the main road. The drive was short. You had just about scrolled through some emails before the driver had parked the car in front of a large black tower. The driver got out of the front seat and opened your door. You stepped out, suddenly feeling very under dressed. He escorted you to the front desk where he whispered something to the concierge.

“He will be taking you up to Mr. Park’s penthouse,” the driver said, presenting the concierge. “I will be waiting out front for whenever you would like to be taken home.”

You nodded and thanked the driver, and then followed the concierge to the last elevator on the right of the lobby. You stepped in and watched as he swiped a card and tapped a few numbers on the keypad of the elevator. High security, you thought.

You watched the number on the screen inside the elevator go from 1 to 69 in a matter of seconds. The doors swiftly opened leading straight into the living room. Your mouth gaped open at the sight. There were girls stumbling around in their stiletto heels drunk, wine glasses and beer cans scattered on the floors, a bra hanging from the chandelier, and too many naked people. You looked back at the concierge who seemed unfazed by the animalistic sight,  standing in the elevator only for a moment before the doors closed behind you.

You carefully made your way through the mess when you heard a familiar voice, “Please put on some clothes mister. There are designated drivers who will take you directly to your residence.”

You whipped your head and saw a completely distraught Namjoon with his hands covering his eyes, talking to a completely naked man.

“Namjoon?” You said incredulously.  It had been a couple of years at least since you last saw him.

“______!” he said, immediately breaking into his familiar dimpled smile. He pulled you in a small hug. “It’s been too long! What are you doing here?”

“Um..Jimin asked me to come.” You admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Oh..” Namjoon knew your history with Jimin, the long complicated story of nothing. “He’s in his bedroom,” Namjoon said, pointing down the long hallway to the left.

You started to make your way to his room but as you walked, the old feelings of butterflies started to creep up. God, stop it. Literally look at this. He’s an idiot, a fuckboy, a full on hot mess. You don’t need this. You don’t need him.

His bedroom door was cracked slightly open, revealing a soft stream of moonlight trailing into the hallway. You pushed the heavy door open as you exhaled all your stupid worries. The room was quiet but you noticed some strewn pieces of clothing on the floor here and there. You saw a corner of the black framed bed but it was covered by large frosted glass panels. You walked over to his bed and saw the one and only Park Jimin. He laid there, his arm covering his eyes and his brown hair all messed up.. He wore a simple dress pant and shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned. His shirt was slightly raised, revealing his defined V line.

“You have a wine stain on your shirt.” you said bluntly, wanting to point out the imperfections on the oh so perfect Park Jimin.

Jimin smirked, lifting his arm from over his eyes. He looked at you lazily, his eyes slowly raking up and down your body.  

“Nice to see you too beautiful,” he said sleepily.

“I’m here, Jimin,” you sighed, crossing your arms. You shifted to the side, looking at him exasperatedly. “What do you want?””

“Just wanted to see you,” He mumbled, tucking the escaped strands of hair behind your ear. Jimin leaned forward, balancing on his elbows, and whispered in your ear, “I missed you.”

You fought back a blush and pulled away. “No shit, you’ve been gone for 6 years.”

“I didn’t mean to be gone for that long, it just happened.”

“You could’ve called or texted.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Everything’s always complicated with you, Jimin,”

“C’mon darling, I’m here now,” Jimin said sweetly, trying to reel you back.

“You didn’t even fucking call me when you came into town. I found out through twitter!”

“Well, I called you now,” Jimin teased, sitting up on the bed, about to grab your arm.

You softly shook your head before walking towards his sleek black dresser and pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

“You should change,” you said, throwing the clothes at Jimin who caught them with ease. You turned around, your back toward him to give him some privacy. You faced the floor to ceiling windows that took up one part of his room, overlooking downtown Seoul. The lights of the city twinkled with wonder and the cool gray fog covered it with secrets.

You suddenly felt a body press against your back. Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head in the crook of your shoulder. You wanted nothing more than to just melt into his arms and forget about everything. But that could never happen. You turned around, trying to get him away from you before you did something stupid like kiss him. God, you couldn’t think around him.

Jimin obediently pulled away, stepping back so that the two of you were now facing each other. You saw that Jimin decided to forego a shirt, allowing you to get a better view of his sculpted abs. Your eyes immediately caught his tattoo that definitely was not there before: NEVERMIND written in all caps in a scraggly font. There were various scars littering his chest, some of them even looked fresh. What in the hell was he doing in the time that he was gone?

His voice came out genuine but you could hear a tinge of desperation that you hadn’t recognized before, “I meant it, you know?”

“Jimin,” you sighed. You looked up to meet his brown eyes. He looked at you anxiously, craving your forgiveness. “I don’t think you missed me. I think you missed your life.”

“I’m being serious ______. I really fucking miss you. I thought about you everyday,” he continued, trying to convince you.  

“Maybe I would believe you, but there’s four naked girls in your living room right now. Your actions beg to differ.” You grabbed your phone that you left on his dresser and walked to the entrance of his room . Just as you were about to close the door, you turned around to look at him. “You haven’t changed one bit, Park Jimin.”

☙

You slipped off your slides as you re-entered your apartment, the sound of silence overwhelming you. Everything about him was running through your mind as you laid down on your bed, trying to process what had just happened. The scars on his body, the tattoos, his eyes: it was everything about him changed but nothing really had. He still had the same charming smile and idiotic behavior. You tried to close your eyes and finally get some sleep but you were still unsettled from the whole interaction with Jimin. Deciding operation sleep was a no go, you got up from your soft pillows and stretched your body. You knew only one thing would put all of this nervous energy to use: patrolling the city. 

You stepped into your closet and pulled out your suit: black cargo pants with a fitted athletic black tank top tucked in. Underneath your top, you wore a sleeveless blue turtleneck which doubled as a mask. You felt yourself fall into the familiar routine of suiting up, lacing up your boots and pulling your hair into a ponytail. You remember being so nervous the first few times you went patrolling, whether it was for your life or fear of failure, you can’t be sure. But now, you felt calm and relaxed. Even though you could never guess what new dangers would emerge from the depths of the city, you knew the citizens of Seoul could always rely on you. And at the end of the day, that’s what made you truly happy: helping others. It’s why you became a lawyer and it’s also why you donned the identity of Nyx.

Dipping your fingers in a pot of black face paint, you drew a crescent moon facing up on your forehead. You quickly put on your black gloves and pulled up the blue neck of your shirt so it covered your mouth and nose.  You stared at yourself in the mirror and didn’t recognize yourself; you only saw the beloved dark knight of Seoul city: Nyx. Grabbing your two daggers that were sheathed in black leather, you climbed out of your bedroom window. The only benefit of living in an apartment without a balcony was that right next to your window was the fire escape stairs, leading directly to the roof of your building. 

You peered down at Seoul, not seeing the beauty you had just seen from Jimin’s penthouse window, but rather witnessing the darkness and destruction that was slowly consuming the city. Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw the distinct crescent moon symbol that was flipped to form a “U" flash into the dark sky, the symbol of Nyx. It was coming from the Seoul City Police Department and you knew exactly who had signaled it.

You grabbed the nylon rope tucked into your pocket and pulled out a small metal tin. You clicked a button on the side of the tin, transforming it into a grappling hook. After securing the hook on the roof ledge, you rappelled down the building, safely landing on the ground. Tucking the rope and hook into your pockets, you made your way to the building’s garage where your beloved motorcycle was waiting for you.

You hopped on the bike and drove for what seemed like 10 minutes before arriving in front of the police department. You made use of your rope and grappling hook again, as you scaled the building to get to the roof. There, you saw a man with his back towards you wearing a long, black trench coat. 

“Detective Kim,” you called to the man, standing anxiously by the large spotlight with the Nyx symbol plastered on it. 

“Nyx,” he said whipping his head in the direction of your voice, “Good to see you. It’s been awhile.” 

It had been awhile. Detective Kim Seokjin had been only a small-time detective at the SCPD when you first started out. After realizing you both had the same goals and wishes for this city, you and Detective Kim decided to work together, confiding each other in your missions and reports on crime. 

You nodded, “Seoul has been quiet. Too quiet.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it means I’m missing something.”

“Missing what?”

“I’m not sure yet. And that’s what makes me afraid.”

“Never thought I would hear those words from the hero of Seoul.”

“I’m not a hero. I’m just doing what I can.”

“The people of Seoul love you. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed, but I don’t want them to depend on me.”

“Why? Planning a vacation?” he said teasingly.

“Maybe. This really isn't my day job. Can’t be Nyx all the time.” you said, smiling.

“Anyways, I wanted to update you on something that’s been going on. We’ve kept it out of the news so far but with how things are going, I have a feeling that this will make headlines soon. People at the office wanted to take care of it ourselves but I can’t stand by any longer. We need your help.” Detective Kim said handing you a tan file folder. 

You rifled through the file as he continued to speak, “There have been 2 robberies at the two major banks, Bank of Seoul and Seoul Holdings Inc.”

“When did they happen?”

“Bank of Seoul was yesterday afternoon and Seoul Holdings was two days before.”

“Any leads?”

“We think it might be mob related.”

You looked up from the papers to meet Jin’s concerned eyes, “We cleaned up the mob.”

“Maybe they resurfaced, or maybe this is something entirely new we are dealing with.”

“Any idea of where they’re going to hit next?”

“We think Seoul United.”

“Have a unit there at all times. Make sure they keep track of who is coming in and out. Based on these two robberies, the next one is going to happen soon.”

“Got it. I’ll form a team and get them down there as soon as possible.” 

You had reached the end of file when a small business card slipped out and fell to the ground. You knelt down and picked it up, flipping to the front of the card, expecting to see the business card of one of the banks. But it was just a blank card with a demented looking smiley face drawn in blood red ink.

“What’s this?”

“Right. I almost forgot. We found that in the empty bank vault at the Bank of Seoul.”

“Did you have labs run an analysis on this?”

“Yep. They found nothing. No fingerprints, no trace of anything on the card. Completely blank.”

“What about the ink?”

“It’s ink. Not blood.”

“Find out what exact ink this is. Maybe it can give us a lead on something.”

Jin nodded as you handed the file back to him. You grabbed onto your grappling hook. But before you slipped back into the darkness you called out to him, “Keep me posted.”

☙

Waking up was too hard. You were far from a morning person, hitting snooze on your phone alarm until the last possible minute. Between seeing Jimin and meeting Detective Kim, you got a total of four hours of sleep, which was not nearly enough for your strenuous schedule. After hitting snooze for the fourth time, you had to scramble to get ready. You quickly brushed your teeth, washed your face, and combed your hair before changing into a black pantsuit. Slipping your laptop into your leather messenger bag, you blindly grabbed for your keys as you headed out the door, almost stumbling in your black heels. 

You made it to your office just in time, but because of your tardiness in the morning, you weren’t able to get any caffeine. You sighed, blowing the escaped strands of hair from out of your face, you knew it was going to be a long day. You opened your office door and saw your long time best friend sitting at her desk, opposite of yours. 

“Hey ______! Rough morning?” she said, chuckling at your state.

“Hey Sana,” you replied, giving her a quick hug. “ More like a rough night.”

“Who’s the lucky guy? I saw that Park Jimin is back in town,” she said teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Don’t even get me fucking started. “ You said groaning as you sat down at your desk.

“You went to his party?” she said shocked. “You know, I’m still offended he didn’t invite me. And after all we went through in college. I wrote so many essays for that punk—” 

“I didn’t want to go. He called me. Drunk off his ass.”

“Oh my god, really?” Sana said, pausing her rant about how ungrateful Jimin was and opted to lean forward in her seat to her what you had to say.

“Yeah and he asked me to come over.”

“So did you?”

“I did.”

“______!” She gasped at your actions.

“It’s complicated. But I went over and saw him.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing. Or well he wanted to talk to me. See me I guess. He apologized.”

“For what? For leaving and not telling you? For breaking your hea—”

“For leaving Sana. He apologized for being gone for six years and for not calling me once.”

“What, he just said sorry and expected you to forgive him?” 

“Yeah I guess,” you said shrugging.

“Men are so fucking stupid.”

‘Tell me about it. Anyways, then I ended up meeting Detective Kim. Well, Nyx did.”

“Damn, you had a long night. What did he say?”

“He said there's been a couple of robberies, one at Bank of Seoul and the other at Seoul Holdings. They think Seoul United is next.”

“What's the plan?”

“He’s gonna set up a unit there to keep watch 24/7.”

“And what's our plan?”

You smiled at her words, “I was hoping Team Nyx could help me out.”

☙

After a long day at the office and figuring out a plan for the bank robberies, you were completely drained and wanted to do nothing except curl up in your bed and watch Netflix. You got home, kicked off your heels, dropped your messenger bag to the ground, and started to walk to your bedroom, thinking about which episode of New Girl you were going to watch. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, interrupting your train of thought. You wondered who would show up at your place unannounced at this time. You looked through the peephole of your door to see none other than Park Jimin holding a bouquet of roses. You stepped back from the door exasperated. You thought you had been clear of your hatred for him the other night.

You felt your heart beating slightly faster. Stop it, you chided yourself. It was evident from the other night that Jimin was still the same: a player and a liar. There was no place in your already busy life for someone as reckless as Jimin; you needed to focus and Jimin was an unnecessary distraction. 

You opened the door to Jimin, his hair tousled from the wind. He was wearing a black blazer, with a black shirt tucked into a pair of, you guessed it, black jeans.

“Hi,” was all he said, standing in your doorway and giving his signature smile.

“What are you doing here Jimin?” you said, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“I just wanted to explain myself again. Our talk last night didn’t go as I hoped.”

“And what exactly were you hoping for?” you snarkily.

“Forgiveness?” his wide eyes locked onto yours. 

“Jimin...”  you started to trail off. 

“I’m sorry ______. I told you, I wanted to call you but I just couldn’t.” 

“That’s such bullshit,” you started to close the door but Jimin caught it, pushing it aside to step into your apartment. He closed the door behind him, and he glanced around your apartment, taking in the place before looking back at you.

“______ please, trust me. If I could have called you even for one second just to hear your voice, I would have.” 

You looked into his eyes and saw his sincerity. You didn’t know what to think. You wanted to believe him so badly.

“I—” you started to say but Jimin cut you off.

“I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, you know that,” Jimin said looking at you intensely. “Can you please forgive me?”

You didn’t want to fight with Jimin anymore. As much as you hated him for what he did, you missed your best friend. And deep down, you knew he was right, that he would never hurt you.

You let out a deep sigh, “Okay Jimin, I forgive you.”

Jimin once again gives his charming smile. He looked like he was about to hug you but refrained himself from doing so. Instead, he handed you the bouquet of roses he had been holding, “For you.”

You were so caught up in your fight with Jimin that you didn’t register the peculiar color of the roses until he handed them to you. They were black roses. The color was as dark as the night sky. You looked at Jimin then back to the flowers. There was no way he would have known right? There were only two people who knew that you were Nyx. Jimin just came back from Seoul so he couldn't possibly know.

“Why black?” you asked carefully, studying his expression and body language for any clues that suggested he knew of your secret identity.

Jimin just shrugged in response. “It’s your favorite color.”

“You still remember?” you asked incredulously, shaking your head.

“You’re a hard person to forget,” Jimin said quietly. He took a step closer to you and you suddenly registered the nonexistent distance between the two of you. You felt his hot breath fanning your face and you felt like your heart was pounding so hard he could feel it. Jimin tilted your chin up so that you were forced to look at him, staring into his brown eyes. You shivered at the contact of his cold fingers against your skin. He looked at your lips before looking back at your wide eyes, silently asking for your permission. 

“I can’t,” you whispered apologetically, trying to push his hand away.

Jimin caught your hands, his metal rings pressing into your hands, as he tried to catch your gaze, “Why not?”

You finally meet his eyes looking at you imploringly, waiting for an answer. 

“I have a boyfriend,” you choked out, knowing those exact words would be like venom to him. 

Jimin immediately let go of your hands at that moment. His expression hardened and he clenched his jaw: his telltale sign of anger. He walked away from you to sit on the navy blue sofa in your living room, spreading his legs as he sat down.

“I see,” he said coldly. 

“You can’t be mad at me. That’s not fair.” You said irritated, turning around to look at him.

“I never said I was mad,” he said, staring at the wooden flooring, not meeting your eyes.

“Jimin, you left. You left for six years and you didn’t tell me. What was I supposed to do? Wait around for you?”

“I just—” Jimin ran his fingers through his hair with frustration before letting his face rest in his hands. “I just thought things would be the same when I came back.” He said helplessly.

“Well, you thought wrong.” you quipped, crossing your arms over your chest, looking away. 

Jimin was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I’m happy for you. Really. I would love to meet him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You scoffed.

“C’mon, we should try to move forward. At least be friends again.”

“Jimin, I just need some time. You can’t just show up in my life unexpectedly and expect everything to be the same. It doesn’t work that way.” You sighed. You opened the door for him, a silent indicator that he should leave. Jimin glanced at the door and your tired expression. 

He got up from where he was sitting and made his way towards the door,  “I understand ______. But know that I’m here for you. Anytime. I just want you back in my life again.”

He looked at you one more time before heading out, leaving you at the doorway as you clutched the black roses. You watched from the window as he got into his car, ignoring how the crushed petals slowly fluttered to the ground.

authors’ note: guysss this is @jimins-filter first posted fic (ah!). so there might be a few things that are a bit confusing in text but if you wanna see references as to how we came up with nyx’s character, Elektra’s costume and fighting style from Daredevil (the Netflix TV show) was a major inspo for Nyx, additionally we did take some style inspo (the crescent moon symbol on the forehead) from the Painted Lady from ATLA. We are super excited for this fic and hope you guys will love it. This is VERY different from strawberry girl so this is something different for me as well. give a follow to @jimins-filter her blog is aesthetic af. ty for reading and let us know what you think so far! 💜💜

[kvgehiras]

can i request sleepover hcs with trickstar (separate)? i feel like they would be so much fun to be with... the new shuffle unit really woke up my inner trickstarP 🥺 (hope it's not too much to request all 😭)

HELLO !!! nd no it's ok !!!! it took me some time bcs i didnt . rlly know how to start out hokuto's part BUT IT'S DONE NOW !!!!!!! (also i hope u meant it in a setting where y/n nd the members r in a relationship (separately ofc) bcs that's how i wrote it so ye) hope yall like it ~

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

AKEHOSHI SUBARU

• he probably brought up the idea while u were accompanying him on a walk w daikichi

• u were talking abt how u brought these glow-in-the-dark stickers nd they remind u of him

• "it would b so nice if u could see it omg!!! but .... it's the best when u watch it right before u go to sleep.....nd ur probably busy :(("

• "????? LETS HAVE A SLEEPOVER THEN!!!!!!! W ALL THE SPARKLE SPARKLE STARS!!!! AAAAA IT WOULD LOOK SO PRETTY!!!!!!!!"

• nd ur just like :0 bcs u cant believe this dumbass . he has a live to perform in day after tomorrow but he's gonna have a sleepover........what

• "dw abt my live !!!!!!! ill tell hokke nd the others that i can't come today but i'll practice extra hard tomorrow !! they'll understand dw (*・∀-)☆"

• they didn't.....actually...but he cut the call on hokuto before they could get him to attend so uh-

• "anyways!!!!!!!! ^^^^^^"

• yall bring daikichi over too. it's not even a question daikichi is literally yalls child at this point but anyways

• he probably looks for board games for a good hour or two while u get some food for daikichi nd then get some food for subaru nd urself

• (he doesn't find it)

• u peek at the doorframe bcs for a while u keep feeling like someone has been watching u for a while now nd then boom . u see the other baby (read : subaru . main baby is daikichi, ofc!) pouting at u

• u laugh nd wipe ur hands on ur apron before ruffling his hair nd he goes

• "i can't find the board games :((((( y/n :(((((("

• surprise guessing game : whos the actual puppy? akehoshi subaru or his actual dog daikichi??????? it remains a mystery

• anyways u help him look for them nd after u hand him over the thing u get food for the both of u nd force him to eat atleast a bite bcs this bitch is too busy trying to win against u in snakes & ladders 😭😭😭

• "subaru.....pls....the food is getting cold....."

• "no i Know im gonna win!!! the sparkly stars r my good luck!!!! i know it!!!!!!"

• he.... doesn't win .....for the 5th time....

• so manz just gives up, noms all the sandwiches visible (aka his portion bcs u alrdy finished urs an hour ago JDJDKDN)

• nd then sleeps, still sulking

• yes it ends up in u guys cuddling under the glowy stars

• nd subaru thinks that mayb losing against u isn't that bad after all (´꒳`)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

HIDAKA HOKUTO

• unlike subaru, this was actually a planned one

• u both had homework to do, u especially had a test tomorrow nd subaru just ditched the rest of trickstar to go hang out w someone else instead of their practice so ┐(´∀｀)┌

• hokuto appears at ur doorstep around 6:30pm, as discussed earlier

• "right on time!!!!!! so true hokke (´∀`)ｂ"

• he chuckles a lil as he closes the door behind him nd takes off his shoes

• "(y/n) u keep sounding like that masked pervert whenever u say smthg like that pls"

• u laugh it off nd then get him to the living room, where u two get ur books out nd then start studying

• hokuto asks if uve studied any material before to which u quietly reply no nd hokuto just goes

• "oh, that's ok… i think it will be good practice for me too if i taught u all this, right? so let's start, hm?"

• HOKKEEEEEEE ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐

• sasuga hokuto kyun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

• anyways !! u guys (finally) start studying now!

• except…..except ur alrdy falling asleep……

• hokuto doesn't even realise this till he looks over to his shoulder bcs wow it suddenly feels heavy! wonder why!

• nd then boom ur face is an inch away from his

• poor hokuto his face gets all red and his ears r burning nd when he realises that ur sleeping he just . freezes

• doesnt even move fucking muscle

• mentally too manz just checks out NDNDNDJDJKS

• BUT IN HIS DEFENCE WHEN HE CAME TO UR PLACE HE DIDNY EXPECT THIS!!!!!!! HE EXPECTED TO STUDY ND THEN GO HOME YK!!!!!!

• poor guy he can feel how hard his heart is beating nd hes praying that u dont hear it nd wake up

• thank goodness ur a heavy sleeper……..nothing, nd i mean not even if boulder is dropped on u, can wake u up

• sasuga…..y/n……?

• anyways !!!!!

• u wake up at like . 2 or 3 am nd u find hokuto just closing his eyes shut, cheeks still bright red nd. WHYS HE SO CLOSE-

• o u fell asleep on his shoulder lol-

• U FELL ASLEEP?????

• u jerk back up nd apologise a million times for falling asleep even tho hes so desperately trying to teach u nd hokuto just tries to hard to explain that it's ok !!!!!!! (bcs he actually kinda . liked it . aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAA)

• after much thought u guys just decided to go to sleep bcs ur too tired anyways so it's not like u would retain this info anyways

• nd it was a good decision bcs after waking up in the morning nd going thru his notes instead u actually aced the test !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so true y/n !!!!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

YUUKI MAKOTO

• this one….. it's like . neither planned or accidental?????

• it just happened????? yk?????

• he called u suddenly in the evening bcs he went to this new game shop that opened near his place right

• nd hes just like !!!!!!! y/n!!!!!!! uve got to check this game out !!!!!!

• nd so u go to his place to play the game nd u see that he just has everything prepared so u get the snacks that u got for both of u on a plate nd get some juice from his fridge nd start playing the game

• nd the game is rlly good !!!!!

• from the graphics to the boss music, makoto rlly knows ur taste

• (he blushes nd thanks u all flustered too hehe)

• nd after switching consoles nd playing the game for over 3 hrs, yes it's a pretty huge game, u finally reach the boss battle!!!!

• nd this . this scares u

• uve seen ppl on the net say that this battle will absolutely End u . periodt

• u never rlly understood why but holy shit u now do

• uve been trying to win against this bitch for AN HOUR at this point . why cant he just die

• poor makoto is just cheering u on in the bg bcs u refuse to let him help

• "y/n….(;´Д`)...... it's ok bb…...i'll finish this up for u…. it's like 4am we have class tomorrow- wait no it's actually today-"

• "makoto No u always help me in games let me finally win smthg for u !!!!!!"

• nd u point at his forehead nd poke it several times as u make ur point

• "ill win for u !!!!! ok!!!!! this stupid boss can never be as strong as my love for u !!!!!! (*｀へ´*) 彡3"

• nd hes just . looking at u all worried but he . he trusts u . so he lets u do it urself

• yes u lost even more times nd cried a lil out of frustration

• so at one point, instead of directly helping u, he just starts giving u directions nd at this point ur too tired nd exhausted to say anything so u just follow him

• (u also have ur head on his lap nd hes combing thru ur hair nd looking down at u like :') lmao what a lovebird)

• but when u actually beat the boss, finally, nd the screen says "win!" in huge yellow letters ur eyes go O.O

• nd u jump out of his lap, while he's still spaced out, combing ur hair nd hug him v tightly

• nd hes like ????? huh ???? wh wh wh ?????????

• nd u explain that u finally won nd u guys just rejoice lol

• then immediately fall asleep. both of u

• (u guys were late to school next day . sigh)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ISARA MAO

• unlike the other three, this man was actually dragged to ur place

• why? u might ask

• WELL THIS DUMB RAT IS BURNT OUT !!!!!! HE DOES TOO MUCH WORK ND HE DOESNT REALISE IT !!!!!!!!!!

• so after u guys r done w school, nd when u check in w his fam too that hes gonna stay at ur place (nd also that he has almost no work today, ofc) u drag him to an arcade nd hes like ???

• "today is a rest day!!!!!! so no work at all!!!!!!"

• u said this while pouting a bit so mao mostly thought u were joking

• but even after going to the arcade, going to the shopping mall nd getting snacks, going to the fast food place u guys visit alot nd getting food from there, his brain doesnt catch on that ur indeed not joking

• until it's been 3 hours at ur place, ur having the dinner that u guys had bought from the fast food place while watching a random movie that was airing on some channel that his brain suddenly went

• 'i know they were saying that this is a rest day nd ur not allowed to work probably as a joke but bro…. i dont think it's a joke anymore'

• this is so sad f in the chat for mao lol

• but also he doesnt bring it up bcs ur forcing him to watch musicals w u (some of ur favs) nd he... actyally likes it?

• he hasn't felt so ….relaxed in a very long time now that he thinks abt it

• nd he has to thank u for it yk

• nd so after the musical marathon ends, as he thanks u, he kind of just goes on a rant yk

• abt how he's feeling

• he never expected for this to happen but u tell him it's ok yk

• nd while he shouldn't burden himself w so much work, ur always open to listen to his thoughts, opinions, random bs, anything !!!!!!

• for hours u guys just have a very deep talk abt how guys have been doing nd mao feels like hes so so glad that u did smthg like this for him

• yall also go to bed early bcs mao alrdy has a bad sleeping schedule (so let's not make it worse!!!!)

• nd in conclusion, it was a v good day! now yall do this whenever either of u r feeling down or get burnt out lol

[det-loki]

poison & wine part two

 “I don’t have a choice, but I’d still choose you.”

warnings: angst, cursing, slight smut, talk of death/kidnapping

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,213

A/N: feedback is welcomed, enjoy!

1  ⌽   3  4  5  6

  You and Loki arrived at the aunt’s house later that night. You followed Loki through the hall as he spoke to Holly Jones about Alex. You observed her simple home trying to find any lead as she watched Loki look through Alex’s room, taking interest in a toy RV. Walking into her home was like walking into a time capsule, everything seemed old and outdated. So far, you had nothing, not a single thing.

Opening the passenger car door of the old Crown Vic, you huffed as you sat down in the seat, hand coming up to your face trying to wipe away the exhaustion. Beside you, Loki sat still, watching you as your mind run rampant. He wished more than anything that he could take away your grievances. He hated what this town did to you, what this case was doing to you. You deserved better than this. Better than this town and better than him. 

“Let’s go home, get some rest, visit the parents in the morning. We can’t solve a case when both of us can barely stand, let alone think. I have a feeling this case is going to be tough.” You didn’t have the energy to respond, only nodding as Loki put the car in reverse and changing gears into drive, pulling onto the road towards your shared home. His hand found yours, intertwining on top of your thigh, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. You wished this was easy, going to work and being able to leave it at the door. Your life with Loki was complicated, some days you were madly in love, others you were just coworkers. You hoped tonight you were in love, you didn’t think you could keep your head above the rising water of emotions if you weren’t.

The warm water cascaded over your back, unthawing your chilled bones as you heard the shower curtain open. Loki’s calloused hand finding its place on your hip, pulling you against his chest. His head dropped to the crook of your neck, lips moving along your shoulder as his fingers wandered from your hip to the space between your legs, murmuring in your ear, “Hey baby.” The soft circles he made sent pleasure through your body, softly whimpering as you leaned further back into his embrace and melted. You needed this. Needed the feeling of comfort and pleasure even if it was just 5 minutes out of the 24 hours in a day. Loki was more than happy to give it to you without the expectation of receiving it. He knew you needed this, needed to feel the overwhelming feeling of his hands, his scent, him. Tonight you were in love, managing to keep each other from crumbling apart and running down the drain. 

Neither you nor David slept well that night. Beside you, David tossed and turned and you couldn’t get your brain to turn off. Two little girls were out there missing and you were trying to sleep in a warm bed next to someone you loved. It wasn’t fair. You counted the days it had been since it happened. You lost count after 2,500, the years and days blurring together. 

Morning came faster than you liked. The clock read 6:14 A.M., mocking you. You could hear the shower running, you were sure David had been awake much longer than you, he rarely slept through the night. You knew he didn’t need to shower, thoughts of the previous night floated through your head. He was only doing it to wake up and mentally prepare himself for the day. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, standing and making your way to the kitchen. You needed coffee. 

Sitting on the couch in the living room with your mug in hand, fingers gripping the handle much harder than you needed, knuckles flexing white. You watched the news display information about the case of the two missing girls with bleary eyes. You had written the media release last night which was now being played all across the state. David emerged from your shared bedroom, kissing the top of your head as he walked past you. He had on fresh clothes, his blue button-up fastened up to his neck like normal, his dark circles more pronounced, eyes already tired. You, on the other hand, opted for something more comfortable, not having the capacity to care about your appearance as much as you normally would, a basic sweater and slacks, face void of any makeup, only leftover mascara the shower didn’t wash away. This case had your full attention. 

"This morning we'll go by the parents. I can do the talking. You can stay in the car if you need to." David looked at you softly as he sat next to you on the sofa, bringing your sock clad feet to his lap, fingers working the tender muscle. Cases with children were always the worst, tension findings its way into every muscle in your body. Especially with your background. David didn't want to see you spiral, he would do anything to save you even if it meant jeopardizing himself in the process. He had done it before and he would do it again. You were his person, the only one in his life that knew enough to be considered more than acquaintances. You knew his coffee order by heart, how he hated nutmeg, refused to wear gloves even when the weather permitted them. It gave him the excuse to shove his ice-cold hand against your neck just to hear you laugh. You also knew the deep dark depths of what made him who he was. The boys home, the priests, the lack of familial support, the illegal activities he used to take part in. You were literally and figuratively his everything. It was always you and Loki against everything. 

"No, I'm fine. I'll be okay, Loke." Loke. The nickname you gave him at the delicate age of 14 when you met him. It wasn't special by any means, anyone could have come up with it themselves, but when it came out of your mouth, it meant everything to David. 

"Okay, but if you need a break, you have to tell me, baby." Your heart physically aches at Loki's words. He would save you from any cliff even if he was tumbling over with you. 

You look up from your mug at him with a soft smile on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Same goes for you."

Loki pulled up to the Birch's home as you take a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself. Your stomach was clenching in pain, a knot in your throat, choking you. At least it wasn’t raining today.

"Y/N, you can stay in the car if you need to." David was worried about you. He knew you like the back of his hand. Hell, you were literally tattooed on the back of his hand. Your zodiac symbol etching itself on his ring finger knuckle so many years ago, his version of committing himself to you. A month after the funeral.

 "I'm fine, David." He nodded, wanting to believe you as you both exited the car, walking towards the Birch family's front door. Each step taking entirely too much energy. 

After three quick knocks, Franklin Birch pulled open the door, his bloodshot eyes meeting David's then yours. David knew that feeling. Helplessness.

You walked into the home after David. Walking around the corner of the entryway you were met with a sight that tore your heart in two. Nancy Birch sat at the dinner table surrounded by half-eaten Thanksgiving food from the night before, numb. You knew that feeling. Although your little girl didn't go missing. She didn't even have a chance at a decent childhood, let alone a decent life. That was torn away too soon. 

You quietly excused yourself, darting out the door and towards the car, avoiding Loki's concerned gaze. Your hands trembled, you were never able to get rid of the feeling of her body in your arms on that fateful day. You hated the universe, angry at the world for what it had done to you, what it had done to David. You shouldn’t have even gotten out of bed this morning. 

Minutes later, Loki returns to the car with pictures of Joy Birch in hand. "Hey, you okay? You practically ran out of there."

"I just-, I fucking hate cases with kids. I know it's not that case, but that doesn't make it any easier."

It’s not that case. It’s not that case. It’s not that case.

"I know." That's all he could say. He knew. He knew what you were feeling, all too well, the indescribable pain nipping at your heels, slowly making its way up your body and consuming you whole. It was only day two.  

The next stop was Dover's. To say you were dreading it was an understatement. Loki put the car in park and turned to face you, his brows furrowed in concern, regret swimming in his eyes. 

“You ready?” You knew Loki was giving you a way out, he was more than okay with going in alone. 

“Yes, I’m ready.” No, you weren’t. You were going anyway. You had to in order to restore some sort of justice for your little girl.

It’s not that case.

You sat next to Loki, who was next to Grace Dover on the sofa with a blanket sprawling across her lap. You were sure it belonged to Anna judging by the color and the pattern. That poor woman.

“So, did we pass?” It was clear to you from Grace’s voice and the dark circles under her eyes that she hadn’t slept at all. 

You gently nudged Loki, who had been on his phone answering emails, “I’m sorry, what did you say?

Grace croaked, “The poly thing. The lie detector we took this morning, did we pass?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Loki responded before looking back down at his phone and sliding it into his coat pocket, “Yes, we appreciate your cooperation.”

Grace speaks again, “It’s embarrassing, all this-all this fuss. Everyone’s gonna think we’re crazy when those two come out of hiding, wherever they are.”

“Do you have some reason to believe they ran away?” Loki asks. In a perfect world, these girls wouldn’t even be missing, but in an ideal world, they did just run away. The sting in your gut said otherwise.

“No. They’re happy. They must have run away. I think they must have run away. Right?” She wasn’t trying to convince you or Loki, she was trying to convince herself.

Loki tries to show a comforting smile but the words won’t come out, he can only nod. 

Grace changes the subject, trying to smile although the only thing it reached was her mouth, “Um, your police captain told me that you two have solved every case that you’ve ever been assigned. Is that right?” There was never a time Captain O’Malley didn’t brag about the two of you. You just wished he didn’t do it now, not with this case. It gave too much hope to the parents. Too much pressure that you were sure you or Loki would eventually collapse from. Again, neither you nor Loki could find the words. 

Grace begins to get emotional again, hand clutching her mouth, you couldn’t blame her. However, what she spoke next ripped apart your soul that had just begun to get stitched back together by the calloused hands of David, “Do either of you have children, detectives?” You’re back straightened and your mouth fills with the rancid taste of bile. Suddenly you’re nineteen again, in pain and scared, tears streaming down your face, hands raw from scrubbing off the blood that never seemed to go down the drain, bleach stinging your nose. Like so many years ago, David is next to you, except this time he isn’t in a hospital chair with his head in his hands finding out his daughter had been pronounced dead at the age of two. No, this time he was a detective trying to comfort this poor woman about her own daughter. You shoved your trembling hands in your coat pocket, although Loki already took notice. He didn’t even have to look at you to know, you and Loki were connected on a much deeper level. 

It's not that case.

Loki speaking brings you out of your toxic minefield of thoughts, “We’re going to find your daughter, Mrs. Dover.” Pausing, he speaks again, shoving his own emotions down, “We believe that they came back here after they left you at the Birch’s yesterday.”

Keller Dover appears from the hall with bloodshot eyes, “They were looking for Anna’s red whistle.” You shakily stand alongside Loki, your body swaying as he shakes his hand, “Right. I read your statement. I’m Detective Loki, this is Detective Y/L/N. We’re heading up the investigation into your daughter’s investigation. Please, sit down.” 

Keller disregarded Loki, choking out words to the best of his ability, “Uh, uh, m-my son already told you th-that the guy was inside the RV just watchin’ em’, right?” 

You speak up from behind Loki, finally finding your voice, “We haven’t found any physical evidence inside the RV. Or his aunt's house where he lives.”

Keller looks at you as disbelief paints over his features, “Nothing?”

“Alex Jones, unfortunately, has an I.Q. of a ten-year-old. There is no way someone with the I.Q of a ten-year-old could abduct two girls in broad daylight and then somehow make them disappear.” You were able to confirm your suspicions about Alex’s cognitive ability early this morning after a briefing with a forensic psychologist. 

“Uh. well. How can he drive an RV? If he can’t answer a question?” Being honest, it didn’t make much sense to you either, it was a fair question.

Loki speaks up in front of you, “Well, he has a legal Pennsylvania license.”

Keller pushed, “And he ran, right? They said he tried to run away. Why would he do that? Why would he run?”

Loki speaks before you, “We’ve just spent ten hours questioning this boy. Okay? I hear what you're saying.” 

Keller speaks in disbelief again, this was overwhelming, “Uh, did- did you give him a lie detector? You gave us a lie detector. Did you give him one?”

“Sir, I understand what you’re asking me, yes we did. We gave him a lie detector and there's no way of-” Loki cuts short, stifling a laugh and scoffing. Not at Mr. Dover or the case, but at the number of unanswered questions we had, “A lie detector doesn’t work if you don’t understand the questions.”

Mr. Dover’s face changes, angry, “Well, maybe he wasn’t on his own. How could he drive an RV with the IQ of a ten-year-old?”

You speak with a softer tone attempting to de-escalate the situation, “Hey, we’re considering all possibilities.” You were, everything mattered. Everything.

Keller shakes his head, “I don’t think you are considering all possibilities.”

Using a sharper tone, you tell Mr. Dover as he interrupts you, “I-I hear what you're saying. Sir- Sir-”

“You listen to me! Just shut the fuck up for a fucking second!” Keller booms as his wife flinched on the couch beside his standing form. You take a step back as Loki positions himself in front of you, throwing his hands in front of him in a calming gesture, Loki speaking, “This is what I’m gonna need you to do for me. I need you to calm down.” You hated yelling, you despised it. Although you understood Keller and had no animosity for him, he was living in hell and you had no room to judge. You had been there. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please listen to me for a second.” Keller was pleading and he didn’t need to. You would sit with and listen for hours if you could. But you couldn’t, you had to find his daughter. You had to fix this. 

“Mr. Dover, I understand this is an incredibly hard time.” Loki did know that, better than anyone. “But I have every uniformed police officer in this state looking for Anna.”

From behind Loki, you can see Keller’s face break, “I don’t understand what any of this means. They said he ran. They said he tried to get away. I don’t understand why he would try to run away.”

“We’re considering all possibilities, Mr. Dover. I hear what you’re saying. We’re not crossing anybody off our list. Just, let us do our job.” 

Walking out of the Dover’s felt like you were trudging through molasses, you hated this case and it was only day two. You sat in the passenger seat as David put the keys in the ignition, Keller Dover running out of the house made him pause.

“Hey! Detectives!” 

Both you and David mutter “oh shit” under your breath as Loki rolls the window down to speak to Mr. Dover.

Keller approaches, eyes darting between you and Loki wildly, “Hey! He stays in custody until my daughter is found, right? Right?” 

Loki shakes his head, not wanting to upset Keller any more than he was already, “We have a 48-hour hold on him that ends tomorrow unless we bring charges.”

“Well, charge him with something. Charge him.” It wasn’t that easy, you wished it was.

Loki protests, “Mr. Dover, I understand-”

Keller interrupts, “Detective, detectives, two little girls have gotta be worth whatever little rule you have to break to keep that asshole in custody. Now, I know you can’t promise me anything, I understand that, but I’m asking you to be sure. Be 100% sure. Thank you. I appreciate it.” and with that, he walked away back into the house.

Loki sat idle as you turned to him, “We have to at least try. If we- I would have wanted to someone to at least try when-”

Loki snaps at you, stopping you, “No. No, this isn’t that case and you can’t think that. We will do our best, but I can’t have you going down that road.”

“I know it isn’t that case, David. But we can’t pretend that it isn’t similar. Ours was attempted kidnapping, she-” You’re chest stung as you tried to get out the words, lungs on fire and brain pounding. You were too close.

“Y/N, saving these little girls won’t bring ours back.” Loki's voice cracked on emotion. You knew that. God, you knew that. A freak incident, a failed abduction. The smell of antiseptic burning your nose, David’s hand clutched tightly in yours as the doctor left the room after telling you your little girl didn’t make it. A suspect was never found. You had only gone inside for a second. 

Neither you nor David spoke for the entire ride back to the station. There wasn’t anything to say, it all had been said before in the late hours of the night, everytime one of you woke up with a nightmare, whispering words to each other, too afraid to say them too loud, staring at the ceiling. You were living in a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

taglist: @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld @buck-this-nasty​ @heeyirenee 

[snapplejaxs]

Locked The Door Behind Him

Dean Winchester x reader  SUMMARY: Dean accidentally wakes the reader, trying to sneak out of her apartment. smut, fluff // 3k wc. 

*a/n - (y/f/n) = your friend’s name 

♡︎  •  ♡︎  •  ♡︎  •  ♡︎   •  ♡︎

The loud sound of Bucky's picture frame hitting the wooden floor shakes you out of sleep. You open your eyes to a dark apartment and a dim light reflecting from the half pulled curtains. You blink, trying to adjust to the sudden awaking, but your eyes are heavy and your thoughts are confusing. You give in to the drowsy and shut your eyes. You didn’t need to get up and investigate the noise. You can recognize that sound in your sleep. Literally. You know it's that old photo of your departed dog because it's always falling off your nightstand. You keep making a mental note to upgrade the frame to something new and sturdy but it seems like the least important thing to do during your busy day. But tonight, the damn thing sounds like an old civil war cannon it's so loud.

“Shit.” You hear Dean whisper to himself.

Your consciousness returns. Along with a shudder up your spine. You lay perfectly still and keep your eyes closed. You can't see him, not in the dark anyway, but you know he's looking at you. The room got dead silent when Buck's frame fell. You imagine him pausing in one spot, watching you to see if you move. It's what you would do if you were in his position of trying to sneak out of some stranger's apartment at 4am after a bar hookup.

When you don’t respond to the loud slam, Dean continues dressing. You hear the quiet sound of denim sliding over skin. You picture him balancing on one of his, surprisingly smooth and hairless, legs while trying to get his jeans on as silent as possible.

God, this is not how one night stands are supposed to go. You were meant to thank him for the great time, made sure he got in his car safely, lock up your apartment, and then go to sleep. Not fall unconscious next to some man you don’t know. Sure, you might have just fucked him but that doesn't mean you know him.

What if he's stealing your expensive jewelry? Or digging around in your drawers for panties to take home because he's some weirdo, like that guy from that episode of SVU you saw the other night. That woman got murdered by her hookup. Maybe you should get up. Dean could be in your kitchen looking for the biggest knife right now.

Peeking an eye open, you look and see Dean’s silhouette thrashing around inside his t-shirt looking for armholes. There's no knife or panties in his hand. You feel a little better at that. You open both your eyes to try and see better in the dark light. But still, you barely see him.

Your apartment got pretty dark at night. And you made sure you turn off all the lights before you left to meet up with (y/f/n) to go drinking. You didn't plan on tonight going the way it did, bringing a man back to your place and all. You just wanted to put on a little tight dress and enjoy your weekend off with your best friend.

But then you saw Dean.

Or more like, Dean saw you. You and (y/f/n) were on stage, in the middle of tipsy karaoke when they started poking at your ribs and signaling at the bar. You looked over and saw Dean. Turned around in his chair, eyes glued to yours, and nursing a bottle of beer. He stared at you like you were a Super Bowl game. Like if he turned away for just a second, he’d miss something he didn’t want to miss.

When he brought his beer down from his mouth, he gave you a toothless smile and a wink. Ho-lee-fuck was it the hottest wink you have ever seen. He never took his eyes off you as you stood on stage singing off-key. He licked his lips while looking straight at you. He made you feel nervous. An entire room full of people and just one person made you feel nervous.

When the song ended, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Of course, (y/f/n) whispered nothing but the dirtiest advice in your ear. 

'You’re a single and sexy adult.'  'You make your own rules.’   'It's been months, and you need to get back out there.'

And then there was the one that sold you.

‘It’s just one night.’

You bought all the naughty advice from your friend. Took a shot for good luck, And approached the winking stranger. You thought he was sexy from across the bar with stage lights burning in your eyes, but nothing compared to when you stood face to perfect face with him. He had gorgeous green eyes, flawless freckly skin, and a flirty smile. He introduced himself in a gravelly old movie narrator voice.

"Dean."

You couldn’t believe he was an actual person speaking to you in a small town bar and not some actor on TV. Dean unmistakably had a face for the cameras. But he told you he worked a regular nine to five and was just in town on business.

(y/f/n) made an excuse to leave and you stayed behind for a few drinks with Dean. The two of you drank and flirted for about an hour, before talking turned into a public makeout session in a secluded booth near the bathroom. There was some under the table leg touching and lots of tongues. Things got so heated that the bartender had to hit the table and tell the two of you to, 'take it to Motel-6.'

Not ready to say goodnight, you boldly suggested an after party back at your place. And Dean wasted no time. He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his car.

The kissing only intensified when the two of you were alone. His hands massaged at your knee. Then crept up to squeeze at your thigh. When you felt his hand crawl up your leg even further, you didn't argue. Instead, you found yourself spreading your legs to welcome him under your dress. He rubbed the outside of your panties until you were damp and swollen. It felt damn good. But you needed more than his soft little circles. His hand went lower, sliding over your clothed opening. You moaned into his mouth, and wrapped your hand around his neck, stroking his soft hair. His finger slipped inside your panties. You gasped and broke the kiss.

"Dean, my place." You remind him.

He nodded. "Which way?"

"S-swain." His finger roamed up and down your swollen lips. "Take Swain un-, until Courtland Ave." You reached down and guided his finger inside of you. You felt his thick fingers stretch you. "Just don't stop."

Dean started his car. A loud rumble came to life. His headlights lit up the parking lot. It excited you. Hearing his car, seeing the lights, it all made you realize how real it was. You were really leaving a bar with a man who didn't even know your last name. He knew nothing about your job, your family, your breakup a few months ago - nothing. And yet, he was knuckle deep inside of you.

You heard the wet sounds as he slid them out and rubbed your wetness all around you. He teased at your clit with his slow circles and then sped up his movements. After a few minutes of his little pattern, he dipped back into you again. You purposely clenched down on him. Dean curled his finger and went faster.

"Shit." You threw your head back against his seat and cried out. "Fuck." You held his wrist. You could have cared less about keeping quiet or cool, your body was on fire. You had never done anything like that in your life. You got fingered by a guy after you shakily gave him directions to your apartment. The same apartment you were about to fuck him as soon as you got there. So scandalous and out of character for a working girl like you.

Dean suddenly stopped his thrusting. You felt his hands pull away from you and it made your eyes open. You look around confused about why he stopped. You were so close.

"Is this it?" Dean asked nodding towards your building.

"Yes." You panted. "You can park here. It's fine." It was your turn to grab and pull. You yanked Dean out of his car, into your building, through the elevator, and into your apartment - kissing and grinding the whole way through.

The thought of fucking a stranger made you so eager to hop in bed that the lights were the last thing on your mind. No, 'take your shoes off' or 'get comfortable.' You kept everything the way it was as the two of you tangled each other and raced to get undressed while walking towards your bed.

You kicked off your pumps and slid your drenched panties down to toss away in the darkness and sat on your bed to watch Dean's shadow outline drop his pants and boxers. You had no idea what to do next.

"I've never done this before." You confessed. There was a small pause.

"I know." He snorts. "Do you want to stop?"

"No."

Dean stepped back to roll on a condom. You didn't even notice he had one in his hand or saw where it came from. This might have been your first one night stand, but something told you he knew his way around these pretty well. You laid back and let him take the lead. And he did.

Once he was secured, Dean hovered above you. He dipped down and placed a single kiss on your lips. Re-positioned himself. Then kissed you again as he slowly pressed himself down on top of you. He balanced on his elbows and deepened the kiss with a lip bite. You invited him in. His tongue was warm and active. He rolled himself into you, his tip hitting you just right as his mouth explored yours.

He slowly slid himself inside, inch by thick inch. He was big, and your body knew it. There was some natural resistance. Dean brought a hand down to massage you, his way of saying 'relax' without speaking words. Dean kept massaging until he was able to keep pushing through. It was a painful stretch, but at the same time felt good. Feelings you haven't felt in months.

Once he was fully in, he pulled away from you to breathe. “You okay?” He whispered. His voice was close. You liked that he was so close, it sent shivers down your spine.

You responded with a nod, then remembered he couldn’t see you in the dark, so you hummed out, “mmhm.”

Without another word, Dean reattached his lips to yours to continue where he stopped. His hands floated up and down at your sides, then rested at your waist to hold. He pulled out almost entirely, only to slide himself back in with more ease. You whined into his mouth. You wanted to scream, but he wouldn't let go of your lips. He felt good sliding in and out of you. He was hard and warm.

Dean continued rocking, nice and slow. His hands left your hips and found yours in the dark. He laced his fingers into yours and held them as he kissed you. You wanted to feel more. You wrapped your legs around the middle of his waist and pressed him in even further. Trying to give him the hint.

Dean pulled his knees up and picked up his movement by only a little. He slid your hands up as far above your head as they could go and you used the opportunity to lift your hips to push yourself against him.

"More," you spoke against his lips. "Please. More."

Dean let go of your hands and wrapped around your lifted waist and hosted you up with him as he sat on his knees. You gripped his shoulders and threw your head back to cry at the ceiling. He felt so much deeper in you. Dean attached his lips to your exposed neck. He wrapped an arm around your bare waist and pulled you close. You placed your legs to his sides and straddled him, starting your own rhythm as you rode him.

Dean separated from your neck and hissed into the darkness. You wrapped a hand around his neck and squeezed, choking him. He cursed in the darkness and you felt his arms hug you tighter, he liked what he was feeling. You rode faster. He felt so good. Each stroke made you crave for the next, deeper and harder.

The room filled with your in-sync heavy breathing and moans. You dropped your head down, in an attempt to look at him in the dark, but met his lips. You let go of his neck and dug your nails into his back, scratching and pinching. He grunted inside your mouth.

You smelt the cologne melt off his sweaty body that rubbed against your layer of sweat. You were high off of him. Your clit rubbed up against him in just the right way. You could feel your body building an orgasm from deep within you, and slowly rising up. You pushed away from Dean.

"A..ah...aah..." You sing into the air. "Dean," you squealed out at the intensity of your orgasm traveling throughout your body. You fell limp on his shoulder and let heat and pleasure overcome you. “Holy fuck.” Escaped your lips in a whisper as ecstasy ripped through you in waves. Dean pecked kisses at your shoulder.

After your twitching stopped, Dean carefully lowered you down on your back and planted himself back on top of you. He kissed your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, and moved down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Hmm." You arched up. He sucked and nibbled, starting a slow thrusting pace. He pulled off one nipple and moved to kiss and suck the other. His hand rested on your waist and held you gently as he started speeding up. You hugged his sweaty back, lazy running your fingers through his hair as he chased his own release.

"Dean." You turned your head towards him and his lips collided with your swollen lips, that he loved to kiss so much.

Dean's hips stilled. He drew his lips away and let out a shaky breath. He buried his head on your shoulder as he jolted, and bucked into you. No words came from his mouth but breathless grunts, whipped against your neck, before a sigh of relief.

He came.

He kisses your shoulder once more. You feel a wet residue as he lifts his head to find your lips. Dean kissed you a lot. You didn't expect that from him.

You weren't expecting some rough hookup, but you weren’t expecting him to be so tender either. He was a tall guy with a deep manly voice. So where did the vanilla come from? Dean didn’t fuck you like you were the chick at the bar he just winked at and fingered in the car. His touches were soft, his kisses were sweet. He even held your hand at one point. Was it you? Did you put out the vanilla vibe? Not that it bothered you. You weren’t complaining because it was still good sex. Amazing sex.

Even after he finished in his condom, he kept a slow pace of thrusting. Like he couldn't get enough of you. It made you feel good. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally good. You’ve been in actual relationships with men and no one fucked you like Dean Winchester.

When he finally stopped shuddering, he rolled off of you. Not far. You felt his hot arm next to yours. Still physically touching you.

It was silent. But a good silent. A bittersweet silent. A silent you were gonna miss when Dean was gone. And the silent is still there. And more lonely.

"You sure you've never done this before?" Dean laughed in the dark.

"Haha." You chuckled. "I'm sure." You could have attempted to joke back to him, but you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say in return. You knew this wasn't his first time. Not with the way he acted. Dean was too comfortable with a stranger's body. He came prepared for it. There had to be other girls. You weren't his first and you aren't gonna be his last. As soon as he leaves here. He'll be in another town. At another bar. Winking at another girl. And you'll still be here. In the silent.

Your stomach started to hurt. But you're 99% sure it's from the stretching Dean gave you. You rolled over to the side, looking for some type of relief. your arm stopped touching Dean's. he said nothing. made no attempt to get up and leave. He just laid there. the two of you did. That must have been when you fell asleep.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. But obviously, you did. Because here you lay now. Pretending to be asleep while watching Dean tiptoes around your studio in the dark, holding his breath, and collecting his clothes one after the other like an arcade game. It’s late. Maybe you should just tell him to stay for the night? Would he if you asked?

Abruptly his cell phone starts ringing.

You slam your eyes close when you hear Dean’s feet patting across the floor. His ringer shuts off and the room instantly falls quiet. You don’t have to see to know Dean is, once again, stuck in place and staring at you for any type of movement.

With your eyes still closed, you reposition yourself and tuck further into your blanket with a sleepy sigh into your pillow. Just to sprinkle a little Meryl Streep into your fake sleep performance. He must buy your act because you hear the wooden floor creak as he starts to walk again.

You peek an eye open to see where he is. You catch Dean slowly pulling the front door open with one hand and holding his heavy boots in the other. He slides out of your apartment, reaching around the door to lock it behind him, before closing it little by little. He was gone just like that. Your apartment falls silent.

_________________________

Likes, re-blogs, and feedback are encouraged.  Plagiarism is not. Please don’t. ♡ 

[ontheblock]

BABE U WRITE FOR SALLY FACE?? Anything with Travis (male s/o with him obviously) or Sally please :O your writing is amazing!!

YES I DO !! i used to have a bunch of wips i still haven’t finished but i figured i can still add sf to my list since it was such a comfort game when it came out haha. as per usual, this isn’t beta read, i fucked the formatting up twice but just squint when you notice any errors- also thank you love <3 i‘d give you a free bologna sandwich for requesting trav ily. 100% beef obviously /winkwonk

fabric

•warning: abuse, religious guilt, homophobia and f-slur use, bad first kisses, badly written fluff, travis being travis

Travis was meant to live a life molded for him by his father. The pattern was already placed on the fabric when his first cry shook the hospital room at 6:33am. He was supposed to be cut from his father‘s mold but Travis‘ fabric was already old and frayed, the intertwining strings of muted tones that held him together felt lose by the time he could run. Sometimes he thought about the reason why he was incomplete. His fabric wasn‘t strong enough to hold his family name, not stretchy enough to bounce back from his father‘s reactions. Travis‘ mother patched him up every time there was another bruise on his back or face. She would cut parts out of her own fabric to cover the ripped strings her husband‘s belt left on their son. But she had only so much left when the beatings got worse.

Travis was in middle school, attending a christian summer camp a few hours away from Nockfell. He never noticed how different the air was at home but the sky was so murky compared to literally everywhere else. His father thought it was a good idea to let the boy out of town while he took care of the Ministry business which was code for something Travis shouldn‘t stick his nose into. He never asked but someone went missing while he was gone. Tragic.

Not as tragic as the camp counselor calling Travis home on their last day. The boy didn‘t know about that but they told his father about some inappropriate behavior his son showed with a fellow camper - a boy his age, Kenneth didn‘t care for the name or where he was from. All he needed to know was what his son did with that boy. The counselor tried to calm the angry parent on the phone but as soon as the information was exchanged the line went dead. He didn‘t want to hear the washed up excuses. His son was young and it was best to get these urges out of his system before they could even develop - dig for the deepest root you could find and rip it from the still fresh ground before it bloomed into something ugly, even if that meant that the garden would never bloom at all. Kenneth was a man of action after all.

That evening Travis came home clueless while his father already stood in the hallway with his wife behind him, holding onto his hand and uttering whispered quick prayers but his thick fingers already curled around the leather painfully hard. The strain it caused in his hand only fueled the need for a release as he charged for his son who didn‘t even have the chance to slip out of his worn sneakers.

That evening his mother didn‘t stay when Kenneth told her to go to bed early. Travis asked himself if it pained her the same way it pained him when his skin split under the force his father put in his first few strikes.

“You want to hold hands with boys now?“

“My son isn‘t a faggot, is that clear?“

“I gave you a place in this filthy town. You will appreciate it and live a proper life!“

“You will thank me when you don‘t burn for being dirty.“

It wasn‘t meant for Travis to answer because by the end of the night he would not even think about a boy‘s hand to be soft and warm anymore.

Travis was older now but he never found enough of anything to mend the damage his father did that night. Travis didn‘t try to explain that he held onto the boy because they figured that they wouldn’t slip on the wet mud that way. Instead he kept quiet about it ever happening and his father was content with this as long as he pulled his son from the devil‘s path to sodomy.

And Travis thought so too until a thread of blue fabric pulled together a gaping hole in his fabric. It stuck out like a sore thumb - too vibrant but warmer than any patch his mother gave to him and when he sat on the grimy bathroom floor in school after Sal Fisher of all people gave him a fucking pep talk, it felt nice. The warmth let his tears evaporate so he could pull himself together for the rest of the day.

But it was short lived. The warmth spread through him so fast he felt like burning up whenever he sat in class with Sal. He tried everything to get that blue thread out of his life but pulling on it only felt like strangling himself and he regretted ever letting his bully persona slip in that bathroom just because Sal fucking Fisher found the note he threw away - the note that was about him but Travis never had it in himself to tell him that. He regretted his promise to be less of an asshole because he knew he couldn‘t. Not even three days later the heat in his belly was so hot that he boiled over when he saw Fisher talking to that ginger nerd by the lockers. He ended up calling him a faggot because how dare he be openly gay in the same town Kenneth Phelps lived? How dare he be happy like this?

Sal tensed at the insult. Did he actually think Travis could be better? And why was his freakshow friend not hurt at the insult when it still burned in his throat to say it? Why did it feel like the slur wasn‘t meant for Todd at all? Travis swallowed hard as he fled the hallway in such a hurry that the three folded up pamphlets in his barely zipped up backpack fell on the muddy vinyl flooring.

“Fuck, Phleps. Just wait. Travis!“ The boy in question tucked at his collar as he turned a corner just to slip into another empty corridor. They had a free period right after gym class and Sal Fisher was determined to finally talk to the boy who relentlessly bullied him to now avoid him like it was the other way around. “Jesus, I‘m not gonna pry but if your dad-“ Sally harshly bumped into Travis as he whipped around, finally coming to a stop. Shame crawled up the taller teen‘s neck when he didn‘t find the prosthetic nose digging into his sweater uncomfortable.

“Shut up! God, just stop!“ Sal was surprised that he would use his Lord‘s name in vain like that and if the situation was anything but this he would‘ve laughed. “Travis, I don‘t know how you feel but-“, Sal tried again but Travis was at his limits this time. “You don‘t and you never will, Fisher. Your dad would accept you being a dirty faggot but mine doesn’t!“ He tried to fill his words with venom but it all bounced back on the guy‘s mask anyway with how much his voice actually trembled.

There was a moment of silence that made Travis want to literally get struck by his God‘s angry lightning. He couldn‘t even leave. It was like all the root his father dug out slowly crawled back to feed on his shame and ground him in front of Sal who still had to react and maybe Travis should just tell him to fuck off so he wouldn‘t have to find out what he wanted to say next.

“Travis...“ Sal lowered his voice in a fake moment of privacy. “Are you-?“ Travis already shut his eyes as he clenched his fists. He didn‘t like where this was going but there was no more fight in him. “Nevermind. You don‘t owe me shit but I saw your back.“ Travis exhaled through his mouth until there was nothing left in his lungs. He knew where that question was headed. Are you gay, Travis? Are you the faggot and that‘s why you‘re so angry? He was glad that Sal changed his approach because even Travis himself was too scared to find the answer.

“So what, Sally Face? You‘re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. If you even have one under that stupid mask.“ Travis harshly pushed his index finger into the boys chest and the sharp inhale he made almost made him freeze up and apologize. But he couldn‘t. He was too deep to go soft now. The look in Sal‘s eyes was enough to make Travis finally stumble backwards and push past him.

He didn‘t follow him this time.

His verbal fights with Sal Fisher were like a damn wake up call for the teen. The rush of warmth it spread in his chest and the cold shiver in sent down his spine were shaking his body every time. He started noticing that Nockfell wasn‘t that murky. Travis used to really like yellow as a child because it reminded him of his mother’s favorite sunflower dress. She was a different woman now. The vibrant yellow was fading just like her hair. Maybe it was just Nockfell, maybe it was because of her suffocating husband draining her of her life and slowly unraveling her fabric. It didn‘t matter now but to make a depressing story short, Travis didn‘t have a favorite color anymore.

But the sky looked like a pretty shade of blue on some days. He never noticed but his bathroom tiles had blue specks in them. He always thought they were just a weird grey. There were tiny flowers blooming in the most vibrant blue behind the school and he wished that they were behind the church too but nothing ever grew around that building. But he would pluck them sometimes when he was skipping gym class. His last fight in the empty hallway was weeks ago and he hoped that Sal finally gave up on his savior complex. But why did his chest sting at that thought? His fingers slowly clutched his sweater as he stared at a withering flower by his foot. Travis jumped out of his thoughts when the metal door creaked open.

“Yo.“ Sal pushed the door closed with his shoe as he held up a hand to casually greet him. His face scrunched up. “What do you want?“ Travis lowered his head again. The boy obviously noticed the fresh shiner on his face already but facing him still felt like he exposed himself. “Just wanted to confirm that the church boy was skipping class.“ Uninvited, the teen sat beside Travis on the grass, with a healthy distance of course. “Shut up. My faith has fuck all to do with school“, Travis spoke lowly but his voice was tired. Sal just hummed in agreement before silence draped over them. Not uncomfortably like the usual strained void of reactions when one of them dropped something they weren‘t prepared for. It felt ok like this and it felt like a blanket. To Travis that blanket was soft and blue but before he could shake it off and stand up there were strings of the obnoxious fabric already weaving themself into his personal space.

“We don‘t have to fight all the time.“ Sal didn‘t look at him and neither did Travis. He really didn‘t have a reason to disagree. Not one that wouldn’t blow his cover at least.

“Maybe I could come to your little church and-“ Travis head snapped up. “Don‘t“, he blurted out a little louder than he meant. “It‘s a joke. I‘m not religious.“ Sal snorted, plucking a few pieces of grass. “Yeah, because you‘re a sinner in the eyes of the Lord. You f-“ Travis had to physically stop himself by biting his lip. Sal looked over at him and Travis wished he didn‘t. “Sorry“, Travis mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, or eye since he was pretty sure his other eye never moved before. “I‘m trying to not call people that anymore.“ because all I hear is my father saying it.

“It‘s cool.“ It wasn‘t. “Why are you skipping?“ Travis huffed. It was weird to not let the conversation derail into verbal abuse. “I don‘t know. I fell. Hit my head on the door pretty bad. As you can see.“ Sal just hummed. “That‘s why you‘re limping, too?“ Travis blurted out a “yes“ a little too fast. Why was he nervous? His whole school life already revolved around cover up stories about the strange aches and bruises he got out of nowhere.

“Right.“ Sal let it slide, again. “You‘re acing algebra, Fisher.“ It wasn‘t a question so Sal didn‘t say anything. “Hmm.“ Travis cursed himself for never learning proper social skills but his father didn‘t like him bringing strangers into the house and his teen years were a constant feeling of push and pull of picking fights with boys that sparked an ugly tingle in his belly.

“You need a tutor?“ The silence seemed to be enough for Sal. Fuck him and his open fucking hand. “Maybe.“ Travis flicked a flower with his finger, dismissing the clear offer because his stomach ignited at the fact that Sal didn‘t hate him enough yet. “Maybe there is a tutor in Addisons Appartement, Room 402, who‘s free on the weekend.“ Sal couldn‘t help but smile under his mask as Travis huffed. “Fuck you, Fisher.“

Sal already forgot about his offer when lunch passed and his dad stood in the kitchen, washing their dishes, enjoying the background noise of his son watching TV with his cat. They were so engrossed in the VHS tape Sal put on that he didn‘t hear the door until his dad whistled from the kitchen. “Sally, door.“

“Huh? Oh. Yes, dad.“ He jumped to his feet, leaving Gizmo to the slasher movie he seemed to like. “Weird, Larry said he‘s busy“, Sal mumbled, opening the front door. “Oh.“ It was a knee jerk reaction from Sal because he expected everyone but Travis Phelps to knock at his door and truth be told, he looked like he‘d rather be anywhere else with the way his awkward greeting caught in his throat and died on his tongue as a huff. His eyes followed the way the blue strands hung over Sal‘s shoulders, the mask straps upsetting the smooth texture as a few chunks hung over the elastics. Travis hasn’t seen him with his hair down. He looked smaller in big sweatpants and a band shirt too.

“Travis?“ The boy‘s eyes snapped back to the mask in front of him. “So, algebra?“ Sal tilted his head a smidge. A small habit he picked up to better communicate what would otherwise be shown in his facial features. But it made Travis want to scream for a multitude of reasons as heat crept up his neck. “Obviously.“

Anyone else would‘ve told him to fix his tone or fuck off but Sal held open the door for him. It felt wrong but Travis took the invitation, rubbing his clammy hands on his pants. “Who is it?“, a deeper voice called and Travis almost jumped. He had to remind him this wasn‘t Kenneth. Mr Fisher wasn’t anything like his dad and he didn’t have to be on edge around the boy. “A friend“, Sal replied shortly, only getting an approving hum.

A friend. Did Sal see him as a friend? He couldn‘t dwell on it since he was pulled into the boy‘s bedroom that looked nothing like his. “Just sit anywhere.“ Sal wildly gestured into the room and Travis sat on the barely made bed as Sall dropped his books next to him.

Travis felt like there was something breathing down his neck the entire time they sat on Sal‘s bed. His shirt collar felt like it was about to cinch his neck closed, the dangling cross necklace he kept under his shirt felt hot to the touch like it burned the shape of Jesus into his chest with every sinful thought that crossed his mind as Sal explained the most bland and unerotic subject.

“Travis?“ The boy almost choked on his own spit.

“Romans 1:26-27.“ Travis stumbled over his own words but the verse was engraved into his head after writing and reciting it for a month straight under the stern eye of his father. There was a briefe silence for a moment.

“What?“ Sal looked up from the book in his lap.

“What?“ Travis felt breathless as he stared back at Sal. “Nothing“, he quickly added before Sal could even say anything else. “Explain that again?“ But he didn‘t. Instead, Sal pushed the book off his thigh, still staring the boy down. “Did you really come here for algebra, dude?“ No. “Yes.“ Travis fiddled with the hem of his shirt, not knowing if it was anxiety, anger or just bile scratching against his stomach lining to crawl out of him.

When Sal didn‘t say anything else Travis just reached over the boys lap to take the book himself but there was already a hand pressing against his shoulder. Travis hissed as he pulled his arm back, making Sal pull back just as fast. They stared at each other for a moment before Sal‘s gaze darted to his shoulder. “You fell pretty hard on that door.“ Travis clenched his jaw. “Shut up, Fisher, and back the fuck up.“

The boy shook his head, scooting away an inch. “Listen, you can say no because I would too but I can at least get you ointment for that.“ Sal gestured to his back and shoulder and something in Travis just crumbles as he lets his hands drop into his lap, staring them down to not look at Sal. “Ok. If it gets you off my back you parasite.“

Travis didn‘t plan this when he knocked on the apartment door. He expected to maybe stay 20 minutes before something would make him see red but all he saw was blue. Maybe he was cursed. All these years of plucking out the roots his father couldn’t reach were rendered worthless now that he sat on the rough carpet, holding his shirt up as Sal dug out the ointment.

How did he even get here? His heart beat in his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He felt the need to say something. He wanted to make it clear that this meant nothing to not make it weird but wouldn‘t that make it weirder? Wasn‘t this the same as his mother putting a bandaid on his cuts and whatever herbal mixture on his wounds? It wasn’t because he never felt the sick urge to kiss his mother.

“Ready?“, Sal asked, kneeling behind him with a glob of cool ointment on his index and middle finger. Fucking hell, why did he have to make it weird? He definitely had to say something now.

“It was my dad.“ Travis spoke fast enough to mutter his words but the long pause probably meant that Sal heard him anyway. He wanted to melt into the carpet, leave behind a stain on the boy‘s floor to annoy him just one last time. He didn‘t know what he expected him to say to that and he also didn‘t know why that was the thing he had to say. But Sal made it easy on him by just not answering at all. Instead, he dabbed the cream on the first bruise, making Travis inhale sharply but otherwise biting his tongue. Sal figured that Travis wanted to act tough by not showing that it hurt but actually, Travis didn‘t trust his voice under Sal‘s soft fingertips.

“Travis“, Sal spoke again. Travis wasn‘t sure if he hated the heavy silence more of the fact that Sal was the first to say something while he was rubbing little circles into his back. He didn‘t answer but that never held Sal back.

“Are you gay?“ His voice was so quiet that Travis wouldn‘t have heard it if they sat a little further apart but it had the same effect as screaming it for all of Nockfell to hear. Sal felt him tense up under his touch, already expecting him to jump up or at least yell at him. But neither of them did anything. Sal‘s fingers rested against the heating skin, feeling it rise with every ragged breath he managed to take. “Travis-“

“Fuck, Sal. What? Do you want me to tell you about the times my dad beat the gay out of me or do you prefer that time I wanted to kiss you in that gross fucking bathroom?“, the teen finally barked, letting his words sink in first before he hissed a quiet “shit“. The fingers on his back pulled away as Sal sat on his heels. “You wanted to kiss me?“, Sal repeated, slower than Travis but he just pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes until he saw shapes and felt like the pressure would crush his face. He heard Sal shuffle around the room, probably getting ready to throw him out like he should‘ve done a while ago. But the shuffling stopped in front of him and something told him not to look but cold hands were already on his wrists to peel his cramping hands from his face. Travis opened his eyes just in time to see that mask uncomfortably close but before he could say anything, there was an odd sensation on his lips with minimal pressure. Sal was kissing him and it snuffed the flame in his stomach for just a moment, allowing the torched butterflies to unfold their wings and fly high enough to even make his heart pump overtime. But the feeling was lost just as soon when Sal inched backwards, pulling his prosthetic back in place before Travis could even take any of this in.

“Sorry.“ Sal threw it into the room for Travis to interpret. But the gears in his head threatened to jump out of place already so he reached out to Sal who already flinched backwards, holding onto his mask. “You don‘t want that.“ Sal pushed his hand back a little. “How would you know?“ Travis furrowed his brows at him but he was thankful. He wasn‘t sure if he could take seeing the boy bare like that but he was craving that feeling his father tried to snuff so desperately.

Sal just shook his head as Travis inched closer. “I‘ll close my eyes.“ Now it was Sal‘s turn to hole up in silence, knowing that neither of them could handle the mask coming off. Something made him trust Travis‘ words as he opened the bottom clasp which was the cue for Travis to shut his eyes. He did and seconds later he felt Sal on him again. One hand clamping over his eyes just to make sure and the other fisting the front of his shirt.

This time Travis felt the cleft in Sal‘s lip and the scar tissue ripping up the soft skin. He leaned into the kiss. Where were his hands supposed to go? When Travis didn‘t find the answer his body moved on autopilot. One hand threaded through the surprisingly smooth strands as the other clung to the small of his back.

Travis should‘ve been grossed out by the drool pooling out of Sal‘s torn lip but he wasn‘t. He should be grossed out by Sal being a boy but he wasn‘t. When Sal pulled back he kept his hand over Travis‘ eyes while the other wiped the spit off his chin. The kiss alone was enough to patch up his murky fabric with bright blue strings that dominated the colors his father painted him in. Travis didn‘t know what would happen after high school. Hell, he didn‘t even know what would be tomorrow. But he didn‘t want the bright fibers to unravel him again.

A knock on the door startled both of them, making Sal pull his arm away and Travis rapidly blinking. He didn‘t notice the mangled face first as the unruly blue caught his eye. His hand did that. His heart beat in his throat again as he overheard Sal‘s father say something and Sal shooting a hum of agreement back. His prosthetic was already on his face again before Travis could catch anything besides the scar tissue crawling up his jaw and chin before splitting his lips and exposing teeth and gum.

Maybe blue was his favorite color.

[mvrkgeoli]

GHOSTING

pairing: ghost!yuta x reader genre: kinda 50s - 60s au for yuta, ghost au, angst, some fluff, kinda mature..? word count: 5.3k warnings: a handful of satanic themes, mentions of death / killing, bittersweet ending i’m sorry author’s note: lowercase intended. this is my first kinda lengthy fic and um yea i hope u like c:

settling into a new place where you weren't familiar with sure was draining, especially when you barely knew anyone around along with a long drive that separated you from your already long time friends. you had to move to alleviate the time it took to travel to the university you recently got into. renting a flat for yourself to live alone was the first "adult achievement" you had overcome, as how your mother would word it out. what definitely stunned you was how cheap the place was, for a whole flat you thought it would have cost you a few more hundreds at least.

from what you heard from the small old building's landlord, not entirely in detail, the flat was apparently owned by multiple in the past. you didn't mind it at all, you couldn't let such a price go for a student like yourself already struggling, happy with the fact that it was somewhat already furnished, furniture sitting dusted probably by the time that had passed from the last owner. some things stayed from all the years the building went through, mainly only the furniture and appliances being changed through the years. mentally reminding yourself to thank your bestfriend doyoung for helping you find places with affordable prices after you finish settling in the last of your belongings.

a few weeks had passed, finding yourself in a comfortable position in your bed along with stress clouding your mind from all the requirements already building up in the first semester. not to mention all the weird happenings that had been going on, you didn't know if you were just tired or already gone crazy.

the first time something happened was the day after you settled in the flat. the blinds in your room shut by itself just when you were going to bed, it had reminded you to close them before you drifted off into your deep slumber to shut off any peeping toms, you paid no mind to it thinking it was meant to be and nudged you as your first blunder.

the most recent one was by far the creepiest. the feeling of breathing against your ear sent shivers down your spine, sitting up from your bed abruptly, breaking you off from your little nap. the past ones had always been short hasty movements from the furniture or your belongings, sure they alarmed and spooked you but in contrast to the breathing occurrence, it was slow and calm, it felt so close. it continued for as long as it could until your wake that night, the feeling savored in your head for the rest of the day.

which leads you to today, texting doyoung if he knew anything about the unit before he suggested it to you. watching the small bubbles bobbing in your screen as you waited for his response, a short message making its way into your sight after a few moments.

dodoie | today at 6:23 not that i know of?? all i know is someone living there before but you already knew that :0

you sent him a brief thank you before shifting to your laptop to look for answers yourself, only thinking about it now after the breathing incident. first looking up the address, only the map and pictures of the neighboring buildings coming up.

after some time, you sighed to yourself, searching the last thing you wanted to if any incidents had happened in the building. woefully, an old article from a newspaper front decades ago popped up. the title reading, “nakamoto yuta, found dead in apartment…” a picture of the boy was attached, he had black slightly grown out hair, his smile was so pure you found yourself with a growing frown on your face.

what came next however, was a wave of shock running through your body at the discovery, quickly opening a new tab to search for the said name.

“local student uncovered to be a satanist—“ you trailed off, rubbing the palms of your hands against your face in stress.

clicking on another link to a 4chan discussion about the recent discovery, you saw a bulletin about the boy and some photos of the very unit you were in. he was apparently a sweet boy from what the neighboring people said. a boy who had a bright fresh smile that could lighten up any mood, it was unexpected for him to be revealed as such a person.

there was a picture of a girl next to yuta named kaiju, said to be the boy’s lovely girlfriend. the two lived together and were seen as the perfect couple.

after hours of scrolling through the page, you found a small recording of an old interview of the girl crying. “i-it was tragic… he was the perfect man— i thought he was the perfect man..” she sobbed. you frowned at your screen, eyes widening when a clip of the apartment rolled. it showed the floorboards under their refrigerator being opened to reveal different notes and certain objects that were said to be used for satanism.

you sat up to run to the kitchen, bringing your laptop with you. you compared the clip to the room in front of you. a cabinet sat where the fridge you saw was in the clip, you sighed to yourself before setting down your laptop to pull the cabinet aside.

nose scrunching in distaste as below you unveiled dust and dead bugs, taking the first utensil you could reach, in this case; a fork. you pried on the wood beneath you, pulling your shirt up to cover your nose from the dust that spread from your tampering. the wood popped open with a loud thump, you peeked inside to face dark emptiness. there sat cobwebs and dust for who knows how long, your eyebrows furrowed as the thought of the government probably collecting everything that had concerned the incident.

just when you were going to put back the floorboards, a noise rattled into your ears. you flinched back at the sound before taking into consideration to shine your phone’s flashlight at the darkness it held. there you saw the emptiness clearer. before you gave up, you saw one of the sides with little scratches and indents in the corner.

taking the fork again, you attempted to pry another piece of wood open, unfortunately failing when the prongs of the fork bent along with the burn of your fingers from using all your strength trying to open the side.

“almost...”

the voice seemed so close to you, letting out a yelp as you snapped your head towards the voice’s direction to face the empty kitchen. your breaths were heavy, heart beating at a pace you think it hasn’t been in before, your figure trembling as you hurry to unlock your phone to send all the articles you had found about this “yuta” to doyoung.

you slept by the unit’s entrance door that night in case you had to escape in a hurry.

you woke up to knocking on your door, groggily getting up from the floor to stretching briefly.

“hold on..!” you stood up and checked the little peep hole to reveal your bestfriend along with another boy.

opening the door immediately to face the pair staring back at you with questioning faces.

“jesus, did you sleep under a couch or something?” the unannounced boy spoke up. doyoung nudging him with his elbow in response, turning back to you with a small smile.

“sorry about him, this is donghy—“ “haechan.” doyoung rolled his eyes as he was cut off before continuing, “‘haechan’ right- this is one of my distant cousins haechan, i don’t think we have the money to hire a professional to check the place out but haechan here used to be in a ‘paranormal investigations club.’ and offered to help because he found you cute— ow!” an eyebrow raised at doyoung’s words as you watched the exchange between the boys. “anyways i called you and sent you messages hours ago, i thought something happened.”

you picked up your phone from the floor, the screen lighting up with multiple notifications. “oh.. sorry, i guess i was a heavy sleeper last night- wait you went all the way here!?” your eyes widened at the sudden realization, embracing the taller boy in your arms before inviting the pair inside straight away.

“holy shit the guy was into satanism?” haechan read in shock, his thumb scrolling through one of the articles you had sent doyoung. “you’re only reading it now?” doyoung scoffed at the boy as he shook his head, sitting himself right next to you on the couch.

“w..well yeah, i thought it wouldn’t be too big of a problem…” the boy rubbed on the nape of his neck in humiliation, to which your bestfriend responded with a low sigh. “i didn’t drive us an hour for you to end up useless, hyuck.” “—haechan!” doyoung only rolled his eyes at the other.

“and i’m not completely useless! one of the club members, chenle, used to say that ghosts usually only have unfinished business if they stay behind in this world. maybe we can confront this ‘yuta’ politely or make a deal with him-“ you raised a brow towards haechan rubbing the space between your brows in distress. “are you seriously telling me to make a deal? with a satanist? you’re basically making me make a deal with the devil, literally!”

haechan put his hands up in defense, eyes widening at your small burst. “okay, okay! what i’m saying is, if chenle was right about ghosts having unfinished business, maybe you can help ‘yuta’ to finish! if he was wrong, you can try getting a deal or something to leave you alone i guess.”

you sighed in defeat, this chenle guy could be right, but you would still take risk on having a deal with this guy. “so… how ‘bout it?” haechan shrugged as his eyebrows arched in proposition, to which you rolled your eyes. “okay kid, but how am i gonna summon him?”

“take this just in case.” haechan handed you a small bag, ‘iodized salt’ it read. you only nodded and casted him a quick thank you before he proceeded to enter the elder’s car first, giving doyoung another longing hug as he nagged on if you needed any more help. “sorry about donghyuck again, call me if anything serious happens. i’m also at fault here kinda ‘cause i suggested this place to you with no research.”

“what’s with ‘haechan’ anyway? and it’s fine, it was my fault i only looked at the price before deciding.” doyoung laughed and glanced over to the boy sitting in the passenger seat before turning back to face you. “he said it was a cool ‘code name’, he didn’t want any ghosts to know his name. anyway, seriously if worst comes to worst, it may cost more money but i’ll try helping with looking for another place.” you snickered softly before thanking him again.

and so, you were left alone again, waving goodbye to the car drifting off your sight. sighing to yourself as you went back into the building, sitting on the couch to research more about summoning dead people safely if that was even possible.

several hours had passed from reading about ghosts and looking for the right supplies, you just got back from a close bookstore to buy three new tall candles for summoning the little friend that had been haunting you, planning on doing it at midnight just like the “easy tutorial” donghyuck made doyoung send you.

later, moving to your bathroom hastily wanting to just get it over with, bringing the candles, a marker, along with the bag of salt donghyuck had given you. hunching over the bathtub to draw a decent sized summoning circle. placing the lengthened candles to three points of the summoning circle, you filled up the tub with at least an inch of water before lighting them.

you switched off the lights, closing the door before kneeling down behind the bathtub. taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes in advance of doing a cheesy chant along with saying the perpetrator’s name three times just like what donghyuck’s tutorial said.

“... nakamoto yuta,” the first holler of his name was said, already feeling stupid for using such a cliché way of summoning. “nakamoto yuta,” in an instant, your lips quivered when you felt your surroundings turn darker. “nakamoto..” the room felt colder, your ears ringing from how quiet the ambience had shifted. your breathing trembled as you finished the chant. “.. yuta.”

“so you did have the guts.”

your eyes crack open at the voice, only to face total darkness. the candles, from what you assume, blew over which meant something must have definitely happened. jumping back in a hurry as you rushed to turn on the lights, your breaths turned shorter as your eyes met with a dark haired man standing in the bathtub, right on top of the summoning circle you drew. your immediate reaction was ripping open the bag donghyuck gave and shoving it at the man as you recoiled your arms to cover your head in a corner.

a distant grunt echoed around the bathroom, followed by water sloshing around and dripping footsteps nearing your shaking figure. tears pricked your eyes as you felt the clear presence of the man get closer.

“this is table salt.”

thanks a lot, donghyuck.

your eyes creak open slightly, eyes meeting once again with the dark haired man. head still in your arms as you refused to lift your head for him, you spoke with a shaky voice. “yu.. yuta…?” your eyes were glued to the tiles of the floor, a peek of the man’s wet shoes making its way to your vision.

“that’s me— oh god, i don’t look like what i looked like when i died right??” your ears perked at the tone of his voice, eyebrows furrowing at the question. ‘oh god’? wasn’t he on the devil’s side? why was that his first question? why did he sound so soft? hearing the soft clacking of the soles of his shoes walking away, you lift your head to see the rear side of the man attempting to inspect himself and shake off the salt you threw at him.

“y-you’re a lot uh.. a lot less intimidating than i thought…” you spoke up, yuta turned to look at you with his big eyes before walking back to crouch down your eye level. “am i really?” you cowered back, his voice cutting you off before you could open your mouth. “i’m kidding, sorry..”

your fingertips reached out to feel his forearm in curiosity, lips pursing when it made contact to yuta’s arm. it felt real, the way your fingers would bounce back when pushed on the boy’s flesh. “you seem.. so normal- almost too normal…” his eyes trailed down to follow your finger’s movements, blinking to himself before speaking up. “i am normal- or i guess was… i won’t hurt you, don't worry.”

your eyebrows arched, skeptical of the man in front of you. eyes traveling down to let yourself think; in retrospect, for all of the things that have been happening, you will admit that none of them had hurt you in any way. your head tilted back up, still hesitant about everything and anything at that moment.

“okay, let’s- let’s have a small nice and calm talk—“

you sat across the ghost in the dining area in silence, your face buried in your clammy hands as you still couldn’t process everything. he sat stiff in front of you, blinking to himself as you both seemed like waiting for something to happen.

“it’s not true, y’know.” he broke the ice and attempted to make the first move to talk, he watched as your head tipped up at his voice, finally drinking in your features when you fixed your posture and pushed back the hair that got in the way of your face. “— the articles you read- i mean..”

you stared at the man in front of you dubiously. if he knew about the articles you’ve seen, how much of you did he see, you thought to yourself suddenly. blinking several times before thinking of a response. “the what?”

“the things you saw about me. they weren’t true.” his eyes trailed down to stare blankly at the center of the table as his fingers fiddled with the table’s ridges. you only raised a brow at the man, eyes following his movements.

“uh huh, okay..” you found yourself just nodding and humming to his words trying to talk you into him being good, you couldn’t trust someone that easily, even more so when it was a ghost who was known to be supporting the devil itself. “how am i supposed to believe a satanis—“ he looked at you with his wide eyes at this, palms laying flat against the table. “i’m not, i swear.. i haven’t done anything bad right?” listening to the man before you speaking softly shifting tone as he continued, almost as if he was scolding himself rather. “i didn’t hurt you? i didn’t hurt anyone who’s lived here before you! i didn’t hurt kaiju either!”

your eyes widened at the name, his past lover. staring closely at the man’s face, you almost see tears welling up in his eyes. choosing to silence yourself after the outburst not wanting to madden the boy in front of you more, you thought of anything calm to respond with.

you avert your gaze to the side as you saw the man stand up to walk away, listening to the soft footsteps he left behind him. lips pursing as you tried to think of anything to calm the mood.

“here.” you heard his voice ring from the kitchen area. looking up from your spaced out gaze to find yuta standing with his arms crossed by the cabinet you had previously moved. you stood up from your seat to walk to the kitchen in silence, making few steps to get beside the boy.

“open it again.” you only nodded, still feeling the awkwardness lingering in the air. you moved the cabinet aside once more, grabbing another fork from the kitchen drawer to pry open the floorboards. sitting on your knees as you face the empty compartment, eyes trained on the blemished side of the hollow cavity. you stared up at yuta only to face a blank look on his face insinuating for you to continue.

“i already tried…” you put the fork down to slouch. “i know, now try again.” he persisted, you only took a breath in before attempting to open another hidden compartment within the one already opened.

after several forks bent, a few dulled knives, the annoying thumping of a hammer ringing in your ears and your hands stinging with burns from the pressure forced onto them, you successfully pried open what seemed like the most superglued pieces of wood together to reveal an old looking shoebox. pulling it out before sitting comfortably to uncrate the box.

yuta crouched down beside you as you uncovered the shoebox. revealing a tattered pouch, something wrapped with worn down linen and some papers with characters you couldn’t read, opening the pouch with interest and dumping the contents onto the shoebox’s lid to exhibit different kinds of pendants and even some small lockets.

moving onto the linen wrapped item, you handled it with frail fingers, it weighed down your hands slightly making you more curious. it unraveled a small dagger.

you wince at the sight and dropped the dagger abruptly, the loud clang of the blade as it ground rang for what seemed like forever. it was covered with maroon. forcing yourself to think that it was just rust and not what you thought it was, you turned to yuta with your shaky eyes.

“she took one thing from people she had targeted after she was finished.” he said mindlessly, reaching forward to fiddle with the trinkets spilled from the pouch. you however, sat back to process the new discovery.

‘she’? you thought to yourself. kaiju? was it her? you blinked to yourself and tried to piece things together. the clip of kaiju sobbing appeared in your head. not once did she talk about the insights of their relationship when it was about ‘yuta’s satanism’. she even knew where the compartment was located after yuta’s death claiming he had left it open. burying your head into your dusted hands. yuta was haunting the unit not because he was bad.

he just wanted to be found.

you knew something felt off when you saw her smile whenever the public pitied her for the loss of her ‘lover’.

the thought of yuta staying for years being painted and seen as a bad person by the public made a frown quickly grow on your face, you fixated your eyes on the man beside you as he absentmindedly toyed with the small belongings of other people. the other people. did they stay behind and want to be found too? you thought.

“i’m so sorry…” you finally spoke words, yuta nodded and stood from the ground. “you summoned me to get rid of me right? sorry to break it to you but i was left here as a spirit beca—“ you took a sharp inhale at his words, standing up to face the taller.

“i wanna help you. this guy said people like you were left here as a ghost because they have—“ yuta looked at you with uninterested eyes. “unfinished business. i know, i was there when that haechan guy came.” he sighed and looked off to the side in contempt before continuing. “y’know, i’d be happy to accept but it’s hard when even i don’t know what my ‘unfinished business’ is. it made me think after what he said sunk in… what if we don’t move on after death. we don’t even know if that’s true.. who knows, maybe i’ll stay here as a ghost forever.”

you clenched your jaw as yuta spoke, he made fair points and what ifs. it made you even more mad that kaiju got away with it, yuta was portrayed as the bad guy and they left the case at that. “i’ll tell the police about this— i.. i can change what they think about you…!” yuta only shrugged, your eyes followed after his steps as he sat back down by the table. you trailed after him, sitting next to him this time. “it’s been years. i doubt all the people who were alive back then would care or would even remember.”

a sigh spilled from your mouth as you fell into a slump next to his careless state, you went from wanting to move out of the flat to feeling like you wanted to protect yuta and the apartment he had died in. “thanks though. for putting in effort i mean- all the people before you moved out in weeks or just ran away.”

he stared at your tired figure, eyes wandering to your distended fingers. he appreciated the pain your body had went through to see him, the thought of you wanting to even help him made him realize how much he missed how nice it felt to be given a care for. yuta watched as you straighten your posture back up to face him, he felt how dissatisfied you were by the droop of your eyes.

“then let’s still try.. we don’t know if what haechan’s friend said was true, just like you said but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. we just don’t know yet, it could be true! so let’s try..!” yuta blinked at your determination, letting out a chuckle for the first time since you met him. “you seriously don’t have to put this much into helping—“

“i don’t care! i don’t think i can live on with the thought of this man rotting here when i’m living my life like it’s back to normal. just let me help you… even if it fails i’ll be glad to know that i tried my best.” you thumped a fist to the table’s surface, seeing yuta flinch at the corner of your eye.

yuta had been rotting in this hell hole for years, he had long forgotten what it felt like to be important, even being thought about made him feel like he still had purpose. he was sure that if he still had a functioning heart, it’d be beating with how warm he felt.

“okay.. let’s try.”

a few weeks had passed, both of you agreeing to act like normal as if you were roommates, though the only difference was yuta not needing to eat nor bathe or anything, in an attempt to make your new ghostly friend feel happiness. he shared that he lived a pretty decent life, although short he was happy. he had no one who seemed like they would put up a fight with him, bad things that would come across nor anything physical that was unfinished from what he could remember of his life when he was alive- other than being killed and sacrificed to satan of course.

you contacted doyoung to tell and explain what really happened, he however didn’t know how to feel about the situation. a friendly ghost being by his bestfriend’s side almost 24/7, he was happy that you didn’t get killed or possessed or anything but he was skeptical that he hasn’t seen the man himself whenever you facetimed or called. yuta on the other hand refused to show himself even if he couldn’t be seen anyway especially if haechan was with doyoung, if you were in a call, he’d simply just hang around in a different room not wanting to lift some book just to prove he was actually the one moving it.

in yuta’s perspective, he thinks that this was probably the happiest and lively he’s been in years. he had someone to talk to, hang out with after he spent all this time trying to get attention from people and being lonely. you were there to listen to all the stories he had from all the exciting things he experienced and went through, and he was there when you needed someone to rant to even about the most random and little things. even teaching him about modern technology and watching series he hadn’t watched.

yuta felt like his presence was valued. sometimes he’d forget that he was even dead when he was having fun with you. you believe that everything was working out well, you almost felt like stopping because if you were to be honest, you probably had shared some of the happiest moments as well and didn’t want anything to end.

as more days, weeks, months passed by like nothing, yuta was at his peak of happiness spending time with you and learning about how things had changed through the years.

you made an anonymous 4chan thread about the truth, you wanted justice for yuta to be seen as someone he truly was. you named yourself as someone who lives in the flat currently and acted as someone who was curious about the old building. soon a small group who theorized yuta being innocent was formed, it made you glad that even a handful of people believed that he was actually good.

yuta shortly requested if he could lay with you in bed after you got comfortable with his company, claiming that ghosts could feel sore too. you only laughed and agreed, you learned that he had his ways to charm you into his silliness.

“so what was with the breathing?” you suddenly remembered the whole reason why you summoned yuta in the first place. he shifted his head to the side to look at you, bottom lip pushing out slightly as he tried to think. “the what breathing?”

“i remember feeling someone breathing against me, it was kinda the last straw with me back then before i did research about the place and found out about you.” yuta hummed to himself as he thinks all the way back to when you were kind of new to the place, he swore he could feel his face warm up when he realized what you were talking about.

“... i was uh.. you know how i get lonely right— i mean-! i swear i was just laying in bed! i didn’t realize i was so close to you and affected you!” you smirked at the response, giggling at how he babbled on and tried to explain himself. “hmm okay, perv.”

“i— what?” yuta sat up slightly, using his elbows to support his body on the soft mattress. “i mean, you probably have already seen me naked.”

“hey! i know being a ghost is creepy but i’m not that kind of creepy… i suppose i have seen— but i swear i didn’t think anything filthy of it-!” you laughed at the man’s embarrassed face, brushing off the topic to save the man from sinking further into shyness.

“y’know, i don’t think i’d get to see ghosts the same way as i did before i met you.” you started off, yuta only stared at you with interest as you continued. “i didn’t even believe in them before this, and everyone in the world thinks ghosts are always out to kill or haunt you or something.” your eyes trailed forward to look at your ceiling, thinking of the right words to say.

“but now i know.. a lot of you probably just want closure from death, it makes me sad that most of you just rot away not doing anything, moving stuff to get our attention and stuff, no wonder some tired and lonely ones end up haunting places with bad intentions.” yuta blinked at your sudden burst of feelings in words, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of finally being understood.

“it’s too bad that you guys are usually interpreted as bad people, when you’re just finding your way to peace.” you didn’t realize a tear slipped down the side of your face until yuta wiped it off with his cold fingers. he fully sat up to face you, following suit to the man beside you.

yuta hesitated before leaning in slowly, you closed your eyes in content. lips pressing against his cold slightly chapped ones, you felt one of his hands travel up to cup your cheek gently. yuta felt himself flood his own tears after so long. the kiss lasted a good moment, it was sweet and genuine. pulling away with slightly hooded eyes, you cupped his cheeks with both hands, leaning in once more to kiss away the man’s tears.

“it’s okay, let it all out…” you whispered tenderly, he might be decades older than you but he was still the bright young hopeful boy he once was.

the happy moment quickly converted into confusion when you saw his figure slowly turn translucent, seeing the light sourced by the room peek through him slightly. he turned back to you with a happy smile this time, his voice rung in your ears with a slightly thrilled voice. “i think i understand what my ‘unfinished business’ was.”

your eyes widened further as you thread your fingers through his soft tufts of hair. “w-what do you mean…?” you weren’t ready to let go of him yet, your eyes swelled with tears as he spoke once more.

“yuta! no.. what—!?” you watched as your hands sunk into his figure. you couldn’t feel him anymore.

“thank you for loving me back.” you stared at the man in dejection, your breaths turning shallow as your time with yuta came to an end. he was finally at peace. eyes pouring rivers at the realization that he was actually gone, if past you knew that he was gone now, you would probably be happy.

weren’t you supposed to be happy? this was your goal from the beginning, why did it feel like a part of you died along with yuta’s disappearance. you slumped in devastation. yuta didn’t want to live perfect and happy.

he just wanted to be loved genuinely.

you didn’t even get to say the words to him, it was too late when you were certain you felt these strong feelings for the man.

“i love you too.”

[namjoonchronicles]

rough | sj

↳ pairing seokjin x you

↳ genre domestic, fluff, slice of life, heir!seokjin, husband!seokjin, established relationship

↳ words 2.7k

↳ summary again seokjin’s conglomerate family comes in between your marriage, but this time, seokjin will not stay silent

↳ song lauv ‘love like that’

↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge continues with seokjin! <3

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Blanket rustling. A hand clamored on the vibrating alarm. A silhouette of a broad shoulder of a man sat awake on the edge of the bed, clicking his neck right and left. Seokjin rubs the back of his neck. He slid the indoor slippers on, walked wobbly around the king-sized bed, leaving the striped curtain down for his wife to sleep longer. Hand on the knob to the bathroom, he splashes water on his face. With the tips of his hair wet, he brushed his teeth. The morning always begins the same way from Seokjin. He is up by 6am, he does all his morning necessities, plants a kiss on the wife’s cheek and checks out the daughter in the next room. Once he has gotten a good look and the situation is unalarming, he proceeds to the kitchen. He looked at a post-it note placed on the fridge door, and today, his wife wanted to take kimchi fried rice with egg to the office for lunch.

Easy. I can do that. He thought.

Lily, his 7 years old daughter is still asleep. Overnight yoghurt is ready for her.  For his wife, she would have something warm. So he took out a bowl and poured a cup of oats inside, meanwhile the coffee was brewing as it was set to start brewing at about 6:15am in the morning, everyday. Coffee is the most important beverage to start the day. Without it, civilization might not even exist. Seokjin thought as his lips embraced the warm hug of the energizing liquid, downing a sip, cascading down his parched throat. He let out a satisfied sigh. The curtain in the living room is drawn open even before the sun is up. The cold air of the morning had fogged the glass window but with a click of a button, it cleared. Seokjin begin fluffing the cushion on the sofa, fix the runner on the coffee table and cleared the kitchen counter ready for breakfast. It’s almost 6.45am. You’ll be up and you would wake Lily right after. But before that, you will steal his coffee mug.

“Morning to you too,” he monotonously said while you grab his mug from his hand.

“I hate Mondays…” You grumbled.

“But today is Tuesday…” he corrected you, glancing at the digital calendar on the fridge.

“A second monday is no different,” You placed the mug down, and leaned on his arm.

“What time did you sleep last night?” he asked, shaking his arm sporadically to keep you awake because it seemed that you snoozed on them.

“Late, late…” you muttered.

Because of that, Seokjin offered to wake Lily this time around. But only today. Lily is draped over her father’s able body as he walks around, getting the laundries to run so he could dry them on time before the noon drama begins. You are in the shower, still whining about having to leave for work, trashing and sighing and whatever adults do when they have to work to get the bills paid. Sitting in your bathrobe, Seokjin had your oatmeal ready. Lily is on his lap while he fed her overnight yoghurt. She has school this morning, online classes. Lily always had a soft spot for her dad. Technically, he’s mom. He’s the one at home while the mom works. He teaches vocal lessons online after the virus decided to return to the community. He doesn’t really prefer online classes, literally no one does. It’s just not the same. You on the other hand, would have preferred working at home instead. If only you could bring those machines home. The vaccine development is in its pilot state, and there are so many things to be done. Your present is required in all the meetings.

Yesterday, you were up late to decipher the most recent problem your team encountered. The DNAs are denatured when it is transferred into the carrier and no matter how much you argued, (how impossible it was to happen) since there was no presence of heat at all to have caused the denature,  it happened anyways.

“Phones off the table please, mummy…” Seokjin warned.

Typing frantically a few more sentences, your phone is taken away by your husband and set on the side table, mere an arm length away. Lily watches in silence and while you wretched in silent agony.

“What’s happened?” Seokjin asked. Telling him everything, explaining it in simple words. Your animated way of telling stories comes in beneficial today, even Lily is engaged. Then the shoulders dropped. The tone mellows and your lips begin to mumble when you hit the no-answer part of the story, the part where it leaves you stuck.

“And I don’t know what to do to fix that particular mishap…”

Seokjin pursed his lips. That’s when Lily reached her little arms out to you.

“It’s okay, mummy. You’ll find a way to do it today…” She even pats your knuckle while at it. You switched your palm upward and held her hand. Seokjin smiled proudly at her, and kissed her hard on the head. You both shared a look across the kitchen counter, and you know you both are thinking of the same thing; Lily surely is an angel. She may be 7, but she doesn’t know just how much that meant to you. You will walk the headquarters today, a lot more confident than you did yesterday, and when you are confident, you are able to look through windows that are otherwise shut. That reminds you of Seokjin truly. He just always had so much faith in you that even if you don’t have it in you, you would think you do just because he believed so.

He hands you your lunch by the door. A hug for a minute every day, therapists say, would be good for the mind, body and soul. Sometimes it drags longer than that, depending on the severity of the situation. But he smells like bed and toothpaste in the morning, with his little bed hair that you wouldn’t mind doing it for an hour. Lily leans down for a kiss on the cheek and she hands you a facemask before you leave while Seokjin hands you the car key. Usually he would drive you to work and fetch you home but since both of his classes and Lily’s are online, there’s no need to go back and forth, exposing themselves to the virus even more while being out. You would like it better if they never had to leave home. Lily waves you goodbye from the door and Seokjin watches you leave with a smile stuck on his face. And you looked back thinking, the year may have taken a number of things, but they’ve also strengthened the little family you have.

Walking in with a comfortable glide by the lounge of the already bustling office, wait… Bustling? Everyone rushed in and out pushing carts of files and trays. Even the decors are being moved about. What is going on? You tilted your head to one side and looked for a familiar face. But seeing no one you know, you opened the door to your office and dialled Yoongi, your trustee alliance in the building. He answered with a cocky huff, “You don’t know? The investors are coming in today!” Yoongi can be all kinds of things, but lying isn’t one. It was not impossible for investors to come in without a proper walkthrough towards the manufacture of the vaccine but, isn’t this way too early?

“I think they’re antsy, the economy is at its lowest this time of day and they want profit… Capitalists,” Yoongi swings in with his coffee mug.

“I thought this would be on Friday, I would have had everything ready on Friday,” you fussed, shifting papers and files, frantically typing on last modifications on the presentation you had prepared.

“That, you could blame your rookie assistant, the new boy, what’s his name,” Yoongi clicked his tongue, proceeds to think hard.

“Yeonjun?” “Yes, Yeonjun. He got the time zone all wrong…”

You shut your eyes in agony. Noticing your silence, Yoongi took a seat in front of, swivel in the chair in the behaviour of an heir to a convenient store chain, before stopping dead in front of you, voice deeper than the sea.

“Mrs. Kim,” he said, “Aren’t you afraid? “Of what?” “The investors that are coming are Astra Pharmaceutics…” “So?” “They’re linked to your in-laws medical centres… before your marriage with Kim Seokjin.”

Astra Pharma. It is a joint company orchestrated by your father-in-law, their first ever attempt to venture into the medical line. How could you forget the name of the company? Astra Pharma is owned by a powerful chaebol Kim clan, one of which Seokjin grew up with. They have a daughter that they wanted Seokjin to marry with. That was 10 years ago, which means that that daughter is going to pioneer the company now, and her name is Kim Yoojin. Every year she sends a bouquet of flowers to Seokjin’s family restaurant on New Year's. She never missed any stores that Seokjin family opens.

Yoongi searched her name on Naver for you. She is standing on the patio, giving out speeches. It most certainly didn’t help that she is elegant, stunning and charismatic. Even as she walked into the meeting room right now, with her entourage. She really wants to talk business. And you know nothing about that. Your defenses are science, your core is pharmaceutical and your strength is knowledge. If she begins a financial jargon with you, you will be making a fool out of yourself. Somehow, knowing that she is the preferred daughter-in-law, makes it even worse.

No room for mistakes.

Dial tone, and again, unanswered.

“Where could mummy be…” Seokjin hums. “A meeting probably…” Lily replied.

Seokjin gapes his mouth open to have his daughter feed him a biscuit. Lily, being a little rascal refuses to give up her biscuits.

“That’s right, that’s how I raised you, don’t share unless you get something too,” Seokjin joked around. Seokjin might have left the stove running when he answered a call from his mother. Lily was drawing on the dining table, waiting for her next online class. She is to take pictures of her drawings and send them to her teacher. Seokjin returns to the kitchen, placing the phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear.

“Son,” she began, “Why don’t you take your wife to a resort this weekend so Lily could spend the weekend with her grandparents here in Hannam… wouldn’t that be nice?”

Seokjin squeezed his eyes, and set down that spatula.

“Mom….” he warned, “Is there something else you would like to tell me?”

After hearing what his mother had to say, Seokjin rushed out the door along with Lily, driving down the white Palisade to Hannam mansion where his mother was waiting outside. Seokjin drops Lily and rushes inside the mansion to grab a few more things. But before he leaves, he locks his eyes on his mother and says with utmost firmness, “You and I will have to talk after I get this settled.” His mother gave him a stricken smile while Lily smiled wickedly at her father. Blue Lamborghini, Aventador S engine roars as it sped out the garage door. Seokjin pulls down the window to speak to his daughter, “Behave, or else…” Lily gave out an ‘OK’ sign with her fingers.

The luxurious car then sped out into the street.

There weren’t any mistakes. Any investors coming would have been persuaded by the way you carry the presentation. The marketing strategy and pilot scale up plans are concise and rectified. The points are delivered extensively and with proper explanation. However, when you were prepared for scientific questions and whatnot, you come to realise that the CEO of Astra Pharma was interested in anything but science.

“How is Kim Seokjin?”

Everyone else in the room was taken aback by the strangely intimate question posed on a vaccine presentation. It was out of line and obviously, out of place. Even as a person as wealthy as her. Not only was it a deliberate display of her unprofessionalism, she was also bringing down her company’s image. It’s like she is ready to overturn the hard work her parents put into raising her, for a man who is married to someone else.

“He is… perfectly well, though I am not sure what’s that has got to do with our topic of discussion for today…”

You mumbled the last few words to yourself. What is she doing? What is she thinking of doing? Steal Seokjin back? If that’s her intention, then it's the worst strategy she could ever come up with. Not only would it fail her immensely, Seokjin will literally drag her and her family’s face down in the dirt for even trying to tear his family apart. You know him enough to know that he would fight the world for his wife and kids. Hence, that’s why you couldn’t understand Yoojin’s motive to bring this all up, ten years after. Is she trying to embarrass you? In the middle of a presentation filled by scientists who care nothing about the personal lives of one of their own? She is only making a fool out of herself, despite her money.

“You must have been so confused… as to why I brought up your husband in this…” she stood up in her Swarovski studded heels. She made her way to you around the table, enticing everyone in the room with her walk and her words.

“No, I am confused as to why a company like yours is interested in investing in the same exact study your own university is working on. It’s like buying the exact same cows doing the exact same thing, producing the exact type of product with twice the price,” you tracted.

“I guess that’s why he liked you,” she looks down to the floor and up the ceiling with a cunning smile, “You’re a sheep in the pack of wolves.” She locked her hyena-like eyes to you. The hair in the back of your neck stood up. You have no idea what she meant by that.

“I am investing for you to stop. Your formula is bound to fail anyways. So before the company suffers any more losses due to your incompetence, I suggest you halt all activity and let the high rollers play the game. This field is not for amateurs.”

“I think you might have forgotten that I am a scientist, not a businesswomen. Your concern is not mine to worry. My job is to get to my vaccines and make sure it works, and that’s what I’m paid to do. Whether or not you invested, is none of my concerns.”

You collected your things on the desk. And she smiled wickedly,

“Well then, you leave me no choice, I will have to sue you for forging the templates my company has patented…” “How do you sue me for fraud if I don’t do any forging?”

“You’re surely a meek girl… Seokjin will have to cushion the blow with an expensive legal fee now don’t he?”

Was there a mole in the company? Yoongi walks in. Along with Seokjin.

“Tell them what you did,” Seokjin said, and then, “Tell them what you did!” He thundered.

Yoongi confessed to stealing the documents and making it seem like it was forged. He also sent the emails and had them edited so the dates were wrong. He was paid handsomely by Astra Pharma to send all updates on the formula which then led the pharma company to imitate the make-ups protein-by-protein. He used the friendship he had established with you to gain all access to your files. He also confessed that he refused to continue doing it and when he decided to pull the plugs from Astra Pharma, Astra Pharma threatened him. He had no choice but to abide to the play Yoojin wanted orchestrated. When it was clear what Yoojin actually wanted (to spill dirt on your name so she could feel above you for once in her life after she lost Seokjin), Yoongi decided to come clean. He came to Seokjin’s mother and begged for forgiveness, because it was through her that he had gotten a job in your pharma company.

. . .

Seokjin leans on his blue lamborghini, waiting for you to come outside. He has his Raybans on and a black bomber jacket over a white tee.

“Are you mad at my family?” “Won’t you be?”

The car door lifts up and you climb in.

“You should have just married her and this all could have been avoided.” “Where’s the fun in that?”

.

.

.

.

.

Copyright © january 5th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading!

[tf2-hellhole]

Can we get some hc's for when the mercs s/o is overworked and refuses to take a break? Love your blog btw 🥺✌️💗

I decided not to mention what the S/O is working on to make it easier to self-project. Because of the whole COVID thing I kinda imagined the S/O is working from home, I didn’t really imagine that the S/O is constantly out working, so I’m really sorry if you meant the S/O works away from home.

Scout:

Scout spent all night in a Doublecross match, so he’s really surprised when he comes back at like 3 AM and his S/O is still up working.

He asks them why they’re still up, and asks them to come to bed with him, they need to get some sleep. He’s a bit clingy so he refuses to go to bed without them. When his S/O says they need to finish what they’re doing, he whines and tries to gently pull them up out of their chair.

If he gets them to come to bed, he’ll cuddle close and tell them they need to get more rest.

If whining doesn’t get them to come to bed, he’ll just pull up a chair and rest his head in his arms on the table and sleepily waits for them to finish up.

They probably both fall asleep there, Scout first, and wake up with their necks hurting like hell.

Soldier:

Soldier frowns when he sees his S/O hard at work; they had been in the same spot when he left for a match 6 hours ago.

He walks up behind them and tells them they need to take a break. He thinks working hard is very important but he would never want his Cupcake to overwork themself

He tells them to come and watch some TV with him for a little while. He still makes them even if they say they need to keep working. He will literally order them to come and spend some time with him.

He has them chill with him for a while, like an hour tops, before letting them go back to work unless it’s late at night. He tells them that they need to get a good night’s sleep.

Pyro:

Pyro had been going about their day for several hours after waking up, yet even before they had gotten up their S/O had been focused on their work

Pyro grabbed their S/O’s free hand and gently tried to pull them away from the table, mumbling that they need to take a break. When their S/O said that they’re busy, Pyro humphed loudly.

Pyro will literally pout until their S/O comes and spends time with them. They’ll pull up a chair and sit with their arms crossed until they get up.

Pyro gets a little mopey if their S/O apologizes and says they need to finish their work, but they get over it easily.

When their S/O eventually give in, Pyro giggles and pulls them up to go do some activities with them. They’ll let their S/O get back to work eventually but they want to spend a few hours maybe watching TV or playing games.

Demoman:

Demo’s S/O was hard at work, alone in their home late at night, when there was a knock on the door. They got up and found Sniper at the door, holding up a very drunk Demo. They thanked and said good night to Sniper before bringing Demo to bed.

As they’re setting him up for bed, he asks his S/O to stay with him. Demo is an emotional drunk so when his S/O says they have work to do, he tears up and begs them to stay. His S/O only apologizes and pushes him back down onto the bed before leaving to go work.

About 5-10 minutes later, the S/O is interrupted by the sounds of approaching shuffles. They turn just in time to catch Demo, who practically throws his 6’0”, 190 pound self onto them. He again asks them to come to bed with him.

His S/O frowns at first, but they can’t help but break into a soft giggle. They know that he’s just going to keep pestering them and they’re not going to get any work done anyway, so they help him stand up straight and bring him to bed. He again throws himself on top of them and begins to snore into their shoulder.

Heavy:

Heavy’s noticed that his S/O has been spending a lot more time working lately, and it’s worried him a lot. He respects their hard work and dedication but spending this much time working each day makes him concerned that they’re really stressed.

He decides to confront them one day after they’ve been working all morning and afternoon. He walks up behind them and tells them that he thinks they’ve worked enough for today and need a break. When they say they need to keep working, he gently pulls the workbook/project/whatever out of their hands and simply says, “Is good for you. Come with me.”

He highkey doesn’t give them a choice. If they’ve only been working this hard for the last few days he probably just has them make a meal with him and talk with them while they eat together. If they’re been working like this for a long while, he’ll probably take them out for the rest of the day to do whatever they want.

Engineer:

Engineer is also a hard worker but he can’t imagine not taking a little break every couple of hours like his S/O. He always asks his S/O if they want to join him when he gets up to go get a beer or sit outside for a little while, and he can’t help but frown when they turn him down.

One day, when they turn him down once again, he approaches them and says, “Honeybee, takin’ a break is really important. Just come sit with me for a while.” He gently takes one of their hands to get them to turn towards him.

If his S/O again says they need to keep working, he’ll just nonchalantly say, “Alright, darlin’,” but it hurts his feelings a little bit. He gets over it pretty quickly but he always sighs quietly when he sees his S/O still working when he passes them.

If they join him, he smiles brightly and leads them to go sit outside with him. He brings a beer and whatever his S/O would like to drink, and plays some guitar for them.

They make a habit of taking 10-15 minute breaks together every once in a while

Medic:

Medic is just as much of a workaholic as his partner, maybe more so. He’s often working in his lab late into the night and goes to sleep around 1-3 AM every night. So he’s a total hypocrite when he tells his S/O that they need to take breaks and not work so late every night. He grumbles a little when they say they need to keep working.

So one night he’s had enough, and he pulls what they’re working on out of their hands and exclaims, “Look at you, you’re exhausted. Go to bed!”

His S/O responds, “Only if you do too.”

There’s a small chance that his stubbornness might get the best of him and he actually just humphs and returns to his lab, and leaves his S/O alone for the rest of the night.

But he’ll probably just take off his glasses, sigh, and say, “Fine.” He lets his S/O lead him to their bedroom and they fall asleep together

After a while they develop a habit of going to bed together a few hours earlier, and it actually highkey improves the performance and energy of both

Sniper:

Sniper was surprised when he entered his camper and found his S/O working at the small table. They had been in that same spot when he and the team left for a Snowycoast match. The battlefield was only ten minutes away from the base but the match had several resets of the timer and multiple overtimes, so it had gone on for hours. 

“You’re still working?” He exclaims as he puts his things away and pulled off the jacket he had swapped for his vest. He frowned when he realized it was still a little chilly inside the camper

When his S/O confirmed that they’d been there the whole time, he walked over to them and held a hand out. “C’mon, take a break. It’s cold in here. Come sit with me for a bit.”

If his S/O turns him down, he grumbles a little and takes a nap by himself. He’s pretty salty about it.

If they take his hand, he smiles and pulls them onto his bed to pull the blanket around both of them and spend a while just cuddling and talking.

Spy:

Spy often catches his S/O working for hours upon hours, which he hates. His amour shouldn’t have to work so hard. He’s always reminding them to take breaks before he steps out for a match, but he knows they don’t listen to him.

One night, he walks out to his bedroom, already prepared for bed, and pauses when he sees his S/O still working. He walks over to them and places his hands on their shoulders from behind them, asking them to get ready for bed.

Even if they say they still have work to do, he doesn’t let them keep working. He will stand there and pester them until they finally give in and get up to get changed, and then go to bed.

He can’t help but smile when he feels them get into bed next to him. He rolls over to look at them and tells them that they need to start getting to bed earlier. He reminds them that they can’t work well if they’re tired.

[perlukafarinn]

Destiel 6 + 43 :)

friends to lovers + old married couple (but “old married couple” in this case doesn’t mean literally)

They’re on their way to Sam’s apartment to pick him for dinner, Dean and Cas in the front seat, Charlie and her new girlfriend Gilda in the back. They’re already running a little late and Cas keeps trying to give Dean directions, as if he doesn’t know the way to Sam’s like the back of his hand.

“Not since construction started downtown,” Cas argues. “Most of 23rd street is closed, you would be better off taking a right by the University.”

Dean scoffs. “I know what I’m doing, Cas. You don’t even own a car!”

“No, but I took this route on my bike a couple of days ago.”

“Oh, well, since you biked-”

“Are they always like this?” Gilda asks from the back, quiet but not enough so that Dean can’t hear it.

Charlie laughs. “Not always but they bicker like an old married couple.”

Dean’s left eye twitches and he clams his mouth shut, cutting himself off mid-argument. Charlie has called them that before but not in a while and it didn’t used to sting like that. He’d rather not dwell on why.

He takes his normal route despite Cas’ protests and has to turn around halfway to Sam’s when they run into construction.  

Cas, to his credit, doesn’t say ‘I told you so’.

*

Cas forgot his lunch at home. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to worry Dean but he’s been really busy at work lately, working later and later hours, and Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to eat altogether.

Since he’s self-employed, Dean’s got no problem taking a long break today to swing by Cas’ office with his lunch. As a joke, mostly on himself, he stuffs it in a brown paper bag and scribbles Cas’ name on it along with a crudely-drawn heart.

Cas’ secretary, Alfie, gives Dean a smile when he approaches his desk holding up the bag. Dean considers just barging into Cas’ office (he’s done it enough times) but Alfie holds up his hand like he knows exactly what he’s thinking and picks up his phone.

“Mr. Novak?” he says brightly. “So sorry to interrupt, but your husband is here with your lunch.”

Dean’s eyes widen. He can feel the heat rising to his cheeks, especially when Alfie just nods at Cas’ response and waves Dean inside - Cas clearly didn’t bother correcting him.

Cas is shuffling through some papers when Dean enters his office, phone nestled in the crook of his neck, but he quickly hangs up and puts them aside with a grateful smile when he sees Dean.

“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he says, accepting the bag from Dean’s hand and snorting when he sees the inscription on it. “Thank you, dear.”

It’s so obviously meant to be a joke, one at Alfie’s expense for making such a silly assumption, and still Dean can’t keep his heart from skipping a beat.

He plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, what kinda husband would I be if I let you go hungry?”

“Are you stopping for lunch?” Cas asks.

Dean wasn’t planning on it but he nods anyway, pulling up a chair to sit at Cas’ desk. 

*

Dean has almost put the whole lunch-office-husband thing out of his mind a week later, when Sam calls and tells him that his apartment building is being fumigated and he needs someplace to stay.

It’s a tight squeeze but of course Dean says to stay at his; Sam’s landlord is footing the bill for motel rooms but only the cheapest sort and they spent enough of their childhoods bouncing between those. Dean’s not gonna let Sam be homeless again, not even for a day.

The plan is for Sam and Dean to take turns sleeping on the pull out couch. Sam offers to take the first night and he’s still out cold when Dean gets up to make breakfast the next morning.

The coffee is ready and the bacon is sizzling on the pan by the time Cas gets out of his room. He tiptoes past Sam, still fast asleep on the couch, and sits down at the kitchen counter.

“Should we wake him for breakfast?” he asks quietly.

Dean shakes his head. “He should wake up soon anyway, I’ll reheat this if I have to.”

Cas nods. A couple minutes later everything is cooked and Dean sits down next to him with a plate for each. They eat in silence, Sam not even stirring, and Dean would be worried about the kid if he didn’t know from experience just what a heavy sleeper he can be.

His attention is snatched away from Sam when Cas reaches for his plate, snatching up one of his bacon slices. Dean grabs him by the wrist but Cas is undeterred, bending his head down to take a bite of his stolen bacon.

“Dude, get some of your own.”

“I had some,” Cas says, licking his lips and Dean is suddenly all too aware of how warm Cas’ wrist feels underneath his fingers. “I finished it and you gave yourself extra slices.”

“Did not,” Dean lies. 

Then, impulsively, before Cas can take another bite, he ducks his head and snatches the rest of the bacon from his grip. His lips graze Cas’ skin as he does so and he hears Cas let out a strangled sound.

He straightens, flushing as he sees Cas staring at him with wide eyes.

Sam clears his throat.

“Sam!” Dean says, just a little too loud, dropping Cas’ hand like a hot potato. “You’re awake!”

Sam peers at him from the couch, and Dean’s not sure if he’s suspicious or just tired. His hair is flat on one side from resting on the pillow and sticking up on the other, and any other time Dean would be laughing or getting a camera.

“I’m going to go shower,” Cas says quietly, slipping from his seat before Dean can respond. Both Winchesters watch him leave, the room falling silent as he closes the bathroom door behind him.

Sam looks back at Dean. “Are you sure you’re not married?”

Dean flips him off.

*

Those fours years that Dean has on Sam must make a hell of a difference, because Dean cannot for the life of him understand how Sam could sleep on that torture device they call a couch. 

The mattress is thin, way too soft, and lumpy in all the worst places. What’s worse is the noise it makes as Dean tosses around trying to fall asleep, the creaking springs waking him up every time he manages to drift off.

At some point in the night - Dean’s not sure when, though it’s well after midnight - Cas pokes his head out of his room.

“Dean?”

Dean licks his lips. “Yeah?”

“Get in here.”

Dean should protest, if only for the sake of his sanity. But it’s late and he’s exhausted and his back already aches from this hell-spawn of a mattress, so he gets up and follows Cas back into his room.

Cas doesn’t say another word, just crawls back in bed, leaving a decent bit of space beside him. Dean stands there staring for a moment, silently cursing whatever deity might be listening, then gets in after him.

He settles at the very edge of the mattress, leaving as much space between them as possible. His body is tense and sleep feels far off but he still closes his eyes, focusing on keeping his breaths even and not noticing the warmth radiating from Cas’ body.

Despite his anxiety, Dean must still manage to drift off at some point because he’s suddenly blinking his eyes open and it’s morning.

Cas is facing him now, lying just a couple of inches away, and not only are their legs tangled together underneath the comforter but Cas’ hand is resting on Dean’s waist. 

Dean swallows, but before he can wonder how to de-tangle himself from Cas without waking him up, Cas draws in a sharp breath through his nose. Dean is unable to move as Cas opens his eyes, peering around in slight confusion before settling on Dean’s face.

And he smiles. Dean’s heart jumps at that smile, at the warmth of it, and he finds himself returning it despite himself. Why isn’t every morning like this?

“What are you thinking?” Cas asks, his voice a low rumble.

“That every morning should be like this,” Dean answers honestly.

He only realizes what he’s said when Cas’ eyes widen, all traces of sleep suddenly gone from them. Jesus Christ, what the hell was he thinking? There is no un-romantic way Cas could interpret that! He could have reached down and grabbed Cas’ dick and it would have been a less obvious come-on.

“I didn’t-” Dean stutters. “I meant-” 

Cas gives him a pointed look, effectively silencing him. “I know what you meant.”

Then he’s leaning in, pausing just long enough for Dean to realize what’s going on before closing the distance between them, kissing Dean with such tenderness that it aches. Dean’s still barely with the program but he kisses Cas back, crowding in closer and cupping Cas’ cheek with his hand not caught in the scant space between them.

Cas pulls away and Dean’s not proud of the noise he makes then but he opens his eyes again and Cas is looking at him with such heat that it’s hard to care about anything else.

“How long, Dean?” 

“Years,” Dean admits, and it’s just one embarrassing confession after another this morning isn’t it? “Fuck, years.”

“It’s been years for me too,” Cas says. “I can’t believe - all this time we could’ve-”

Dean places a finger against his lips, cutting him off. “Then lets not waste any more.”

Cas laughs, breathlessly agreeing, and Dean leans in to kiss him again, putting an end to their conversation for now. 

They’ve got some catching up to do.

*

They’re married less than four months later. 

At this point, it’s really nothing more than a formality.