#anyway. this shit sucks i can’t sleep i keep coughing i can’t do anything that needs active focus like drawing or gaming

[watchmegetobsessed]

Good morning - Harry Styles

a/n: oh wow look at me, double posting, can’t stop won’t stop. anyway, here is this lil birthday smut i wrote today, totally not while working, that would be unacceptable *cough cough*.... whatevs, enjoy and let me know what you though!

warning: it’s a smut, straight up, morning blowie for the bday boy

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

The warm morning Sun peeks through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the half open curtains giving the rays a free pass into the hazy bedroom that’s filled with warmth, sleep and little snores coming from one particular birthday boy who is turning twenty-seven today.

Harry lies on his back, one hand on his bare chest, the other one sprawled out to the side, his lower arm hidden under the pillow your head is resting on. Your legs are tangled with his long ones, one hand on his stomach, the other one tugged under your head.

You wake slowly, with each drawn breath, gradually sensing your surroundings. The rays of sunshine on your back where the sheets are not covering you, Harry’s soft puffs and snores you’ve grown to adore so much, it’s now hard to sleep without them. The touch of his soft skin under your balm and his hairy legs tangled with yours, locking them together, anchoring you to him even in his sleep.

Blinking a few times you get used to the brightness as your eyes fall on the man beside you, sleeping so peacefully. You give yourself a few minutes to adore the line of his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the curves of his lips and his chiseled jawline that’s just screaming to be touched.

You sigh, feeling so lucky and gifted to have him as the first thing to see in the mornings, his presence makes sure your day starts perfectly.

Harry hums in his sleep, his arm that’s under your pillow curls until he is scooping you closer to his side and you gladly move to lie against him, running your hand up on his chest you trace the cross pendant that lies between his chest muscles.

“Mmm,” he hums again at your touch and for a moment you think he is awake, but when you look up at his pretty face, his eyes are still wired shut, lips slightly parted. You smile at how easily he reacts to your touch even when he is asleep.

With your wandering eyes, you take in every tiny detail of his perfect body, every piece of art that’s tattooed into his skin forever, every curve, muscle and blemish, you just can’t get enough of him. And today, you are ready to cherish him more than usual. Today is his day, it’s all about your love for him and to show how happy you are that he chose to spend another year of his life with you. You still remember his last birthday at the beginning of your relationship. You were still testing the waters with each other, not entirely cozied up to each other just yet, you just knew you wanted to be together.

Now a year later, you can’t be more sure about wanting to spend the rest of your life with him, share everything with him and love him every day that you have on this planet.

Your hand slowly makes its way down his chest, gently caressing his tummy, grazing your nails softly on the lines of his fern tattoos until your fingertips reach the elastic band of his boxers. Glancing up you see that he is still sleeping and a devilish smile tugs on your lips, knowing how you want to wake your man up on his birthday.

As your palm slides further down his body, you cup his cock through the fabric of his boxers, rubbing him gently and sensually to wake his nerves up down there. His reaction is almost instant. When you slip your hand under the band he is already half hard, ready for whatever you have in your mind. You give him a few gentle strokes just to make sure his body knows your intentions before you pull your hand back. You push yourself up from your lying position and throw a leg over his waist, getting on top of him and leaning forward you put your hands to his stomach for support, your lips meeting his perfectly cut jawline as you start peppering his warm skin with chaste kisses everywhere you go. You watch his face and see that his eyelids start to move, finally opening when you’re kissing along his collarbone, down his chest.

“Mornin’,” you smile at him as his hands instantly come up to your waist. To add to the experience, you gently rock your hips, rubbing yourself against him, feeling his growing bulge push against your core.

“Oh my, good mornin’ to you as well, my love,” he smirks, closing back his eyes, lying underneath you, letting you do anything you want with him.

Your lips travel down his chest, across his tummy and you kiss every leaf of his fern tattoos before you move to the very bottom of his stomach.

“Have you slept well, birthday boy?” you ask with a coy smile when his eyes open again, fixed on you as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

“Yeah. But waking up has been especially good,” he chuckles, his morning voice doing things to you without him even touching you.

“Thought you’d like your first birthday surprise as early as possible,” you grin and tug down his boxers. He buckles his hips up a bit so you can easily get rid of the clothing item, throwing it to the side.

“So thoughtful of yo—Ah!” he moans when you place a soft kiss to his pink head, hands sliding down his erected length before you grip the base and bring it up from his stomach. He is so hard and ready just for you, it waters your mouth.

“You think you’ll like my gift?” you tease him, gently pumping him, taking your time with every movement you make.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” he breathes out, his eyelids are still heave from his sleep, but he can’t take his eyes off of you as you settle between his legs.

“I hope so,” you smirk before licking up his whole length, a whimper erupting from his pink lips. Keeping one hand on his base you bring your other one to play with his balls, knowing well it always drives him crazy. Your lips are not even on him, yet he is already moaning your name. He brings his hands to you, collecting your hair in his palm so he can see your face perfectly.

You wet your lips, give his head another sloppy kiss before you wrap your lips around him and start pushing your head down on his cock, his dick filling up your mouth just right as he cries your name out at the sensation.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes out, one hand holding your hair, the other one gripping the sheets beside him.

You start bobbing your head, going up and down his erection, taking him in as much as you can every time you go down, covering the rest with your hand, gently pumping his base. He is so big, your eyes start to water when his head pushes against the back of your throat and you thank all higher forces you’re not one to gag easily.

“Y/N, fuck! You’re killing me,” he growls, unable to hold still, his hips start to meet with your head movements, pushing himself even deeper into your warm mouth. You come up for air, moving your hand up and down his length as you make eye-contact with him. His green eyes are filled with bliss and adoration, he always looks at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. You take a few breaths before going down again, determined to take his whole length into your mouth at least once. So you shut your eyes and try to focus as you push your head down, his cock sliding into your mouth again, but this time you go deep. He fills your mouth completely, the head already down your throat as your nose meets his pubic bone and you keep him there for a second before coming up.

“Oh fuck! You take me so well, baby. You’re fucking amazing,” he whimpers, unable to contain himself. His chest is heaving, his whole body buzzes with his excitement so you decide to go deep again.

You take another deep breath and push your head down, nose pressing against his pelvis once, twice and even a third time before you detach yourself from him.

“Holy shit I’m gonna have a fucking heart attack,” he breathes out and you can’t push your smile down as you go back to bobbing your head like in the beginning, picking your pace up a little as you know he is close to his orgasm.

“Yes, fuck! Just like that, baby. You are doing so good,” he encourages, moaning your name as you keep sucking him off, one hand pumping on his base, the other one massaging his balls to throw him over the edge completely. “I’m gonna c-cum, fuck! You feel amazing!”

You make sure to suck on him harder when your lips slide up on his length, giving him some extra sensation before his cock twitches in your hold and he cums into your mouth, his pleasure spurting into the back of your throat.

“Baby, oh my God! I love you so fucking much,” he whimpers, his words coming out all rushed and melted together.

You let go of him with a popping sound, swallowing without a second thought as you give him a few more pumps, making sure he has ridden his orgasm out fully.

“Holy fuck!” he pants, rubbing his face with his hands, clearly awake now. You lick him off, making sure he is as clean as he can be before you climb up him, cuddling to his side with a proud smirk on your face.

“So, did you like your surprise?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

“You kidding me? I fucking loved it. You and your wonderful mouth, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles softly, pressing his lips against you, kissing you as a thank you.

“Happy birthday, H,” you smile against his lips, pecking them a few more times before pulling back.

“Twenty-seven feels fucking fantastic so far,” he sighs, holding you tight to his side as you giggle into his shoulder.

[chippedaxe]

Edging different mcyts hcs? Like how they’d react to being edged

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Title: Edging Mcyt Hc's

Warnings: NSFW (Minors DNI), edging, sub/dom, degrading, praise, pegging, rope bunny content, begging, bit of dacryphillia, blood, biting, master kink, spitting kink, bit of choking is mentioned, pet names.

Pronouns: They/Them (reader can either have a strap on or a penis)

Synopsis: Mcyt's reactions to being edged.

Word count: 1.7k

Note: Sorry if I missed any warnings, thank you so much for the request!

( if I missed any warnings then pls just send me a message or something and let me know so I can edit this !!)

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

c! Dream

- Let's say this is some time just after his prison arc so that it makes a bit more sense on why he'd let you dom him.

- He's whining and trying not to cry as you have him all tied up "You're a wanted criminal, having you just around me is dangerous~" you tease him, your hands rubbing up against his length.

- Dream squirms in the bindings and tries his best to rut against your hand but he's stuck down on the bed, "g- gonna cum.. please let me cum.." he chokes slightly as he begs you to just let him cum.

- You reject him and pull away, his swollen cock twitching and desperately trying to release, you bit your lip at the sight of him being so submissive towards you, you might just have to get used to this..

- "PLEASE. I'll do anything please! I need to cum so bad!" Dream starts to cry, he shakes in his bindings and tries so hard to touch you or to touch himself but you don't let him. "You'll be able to cum as many times as you want if you just let me have my fun edging you first, think you can do that?" you kiss the head of his cock.

- "NO! I can't do that" Dream whines "C'mon, do it for me, baby.."

- He held out for you, "thank you.. thank you so much.." he smiled with bliss as he was all puckered out. Cum was all over his stomach, he was let out of his bindings and he fell asleep next to you happily on the bed.

c! Sapnap

- He'd been teasing you all day and now you were giving him a bit of payback, you would keep riding him and whenever he showed signs of having to cum you'd pull off him.

- "I'm sorry baby, just let me cum please.." Sapnap was too tired and desperate to fight you, if he really wanted to cum then he'd just pick you up and thrust himself into you but it's not like he's doing that, is he? No, he's just sitting there and taking it like a bitch.

- His hands grasp at your hips and he tries to take some control but you slap his hands off "you're not allowed to touch me, remember?" you reminded him "S- sorry, Master.."

- He takes his punishment like a bitch, he'd be more of a good boy if he'd stop pawing at you and begging you to let him cum. "I'll decide when you cum, stop begging me" you grab his face and open his mouth up, you then spit in his mouth to keep him hydrated and hopefully quiet.

- Sapnap swallows your spit, letting some of the spit drool from his mouth and down his chin. You look down on him "you look like such a dirty whore.. Do I have to always clean my baby up?" you lean forward and you wipe the spit from his chin, "Thank you master.." he gulps.

- You let him cum after he started being a good boy, he shot loads of his cum out inside of you and you felt very full. You looked down at him and caressed his face "Thank you for being such a good boy, I love you Sapnap" you then kissed him. "Thank you for taking such good care of me, master"

c! George

- He was tired and wanted to just cum so he could go to sleep, his hips trying to grind against you "no.. You need to stay awake for me" your hips slapped against him and he let out a choked cry.

- "Can I please cum? I'm so tired.." He threw his head back and let out a soft groan "No, you can cum after I cum" you told him the rules. George was desperately trying to get off but you wouldn't let him cum until you did.

- You pulled out of him when his walls started to tighten slightly "NO! Please.. I want- I wanna cum- please? I've been so good! I've been a good boy!" he wailed. "You have been a good boy, but you're begging me to let you cum when I haven't even came yet which is pretty greedy.." you pouted and crossed your arms.

- "Sorry- so sorry! Please just use me and cum then!!" George spread his cheeks and showed you his needy hole, you kissed his forehead and then entered him again. Your hips thrusted against him and you made sure that you got to cum first, your cum dripping down your legs.

- "Thank you for waiting, my love" you cooed to George, caressing his face. "C- Can I cum now?" he mumbled, his words starting to get slurred from how sleepy he was, you gave him the okay and then started to pump his cock with your hand "T- THANK YOU!" he squealed in pleasure right before he came and then finally fell asleep.

c! Eret

- She's not pleased when you pull away from them, "Why'd you stop? I was right about to cum!" he groans. "I know, I don't want you to cum yet" you tell her "What? No. I think you misunderstand, I'm the one in control here" Eret crossed his arms and looked down at you.

- You certainly felt as if you were prey but you knew you had to take a bit of control and try to win against her "If you're in control, then why're you letting me edge you, hm?" you looked up at her from between his legs.

- They smirked and grabbed onto your chin, pulling you up to meet his face "Who said I was letting you? Finish the job, get on your knees and suck me dry or else I won't let you cum tomorrow" you seemed to have been bested, you didn't wanna get in trouble from him so you decided to just listen and go back to being submissive.

- "Good pet, don't try to dom me again." Eret played with your hair and smiled as she knew that she had won, his load of cum shooting straight down your throat "Bitch!" you coughed it out "You deserve to choke on my cum after you just tried to edge me" Eret spat on you.

- You took his punishment like a good pet and swallowed down his cum, whining when they spat on you.

- He then edged you tomorrow anyways just because she wanted to. If you ever have plans to try and dom her again then they will definitely make sure you don't cum for at least a month.

c! Karl

- He was whining and crying, he looked so pretty with those tears down his face, you thrusted inside of him and played with his painfully erect cock "cum.. cumming.." he mumbled and that's when you pulled out.

- "You know you're not allowed to, I'll decide when you can" you continued your actions, your hips hitting against his, he moaned sweetly, he tried to get off by moving his hips against yours but you stopped him.

- You pulled out again "Don't touch me" you left him blue balled yet again "I need to cum.." he laid down and couldn't fight anymore, he was too exhausted "Here's a deal.. If you get me off with your mouth right now then I'll let you cum" he sprung back to life when you said that.

- He immediately started to touch you, his hand stroking your length and his other hand going to play with your soaking hole "mm.. Thank you Karl, baby.." you sighed in pure bliss, he sped up his movements and made you go over the edge.

- You fulfilled your promise when you came, your mouth moving down to suck on his throbbing cock, you let him use your face to fuck his cock. He basically screamed when he finally came, a little bit of sperm came out onto your tongue, the rest came out onto your face when you pulled off him.

- "Thank you Y/n.." He sighed and tried to sleep but you slapped his thigh "What?? Clean this shit off my face!" you both laughed and he happily cleaned you up.

c! Punz

- There's no way he was letting you do this..

- That's why you convinced the egg to tie him up for you, the blood vines wrapped around his legs and keeping them open "this okay?" you asked to make sure "You already went through the trouble of getting me tied up so sure, try your best to dominate me" Punz was sure you would lose.

- YOU were sure that you'd lose but you still wanted to try your best. Your hand reached out to gently palm him through his pants "aw, that's nice.." He teased as you were jerking him off.

- He started to buck his hips against you which meant he was getting close, the vines pulled his hips back so he would stop moving them, they also ripped his pants which made it slightly easier for you to access his penis.

- You removed your hand as he was getting close which made him get pissed off "What do you think you're doing? Trying to edge me? You'll regret it, Darling" he warned. You gulped, you could win this one time but you'd most likely never win again..

- You decided fuck it and you continued to not let him cum, you were now in control, even if it meant that it'd get you fucked over later on.

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[honnie-bunni]

Alan, in all his wisdom, had decided to burn out his engines and splash down directly in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean. Nice move, Alan. Shit, the ocean came into view, shit shit shit shit! “Gordon…Can I get an ETA? Please?” He tried Thunderbird Three’s controls again, but nothing, the ship was entirely dead. And turns out, so was the radio. Oh no, and there it was, the sea itself. Oh, this is gonna hurt, looking back, Alan wonders why that of all things was his last thought before he hit the water. 

He woke up again to pain and blaring alarms, he knew he couldn’t have been out for more than max two minutes. Anything longer than that and he probably would’ve had some serious brain damage. Thunderbird Three was at an awkward tilt at that point, but it was enough of a downwards tilt that Alan could feasibly slide down to the end of the cockpit and try and reset TB3’s system.

He tried to stand but saw something red drip through his vision. Oh joy, a head wound! Caused by glass! “Great, no that's good,” okay, comms back online first, he thought to himself, sliding down, he felt so weak, he felt pathetic. He flicked a few switches and pulled out the lever, then he twisted and “ALAN?! ALAN do you copy!?” Alan crawled back up, keeping himself awake, “Copy, this is Thunderbird Three,” Alan leaned into his completely fried control panel.

“Alan! Thunderbird Three what's your status?” Oh, Alan realized it’s Gordon, “Losing a lot of blood, and Brains is going to have fun with Three.” He held in a cough, “Losing how much blood exactly?” Oh, that's Virgil, “A lott,” Alan didn’t notice how he slurred his words, but Gordon and Virgil definitely did. “Okay, Alan, no matter what, do not close your eyes, Gordon is almost there,” Alan hardly heard Virgil, but nodded anyway. 

He was trying to keep his eyes open, he really was, but sleep sounded so nice. NO! No, he couldn’t fall asleep. If he fell asleep now, he would probably never wake up. “Alan, we’re here,” Alan's head shot up, hearing Gordon’s voice felt like a miracle (it honestly probably was), “Copy that Gordon, but I think we may have another issue,” He tried to get up, but failed, “I can’t movve,” once again, Alan slurred his words.

Not good. Gordon sped up, now going as fast as his engines would let him, He couldn’t believe he’d let Alan go on this mission alone. Alan was his little brother and Gordon had failed him. Now, Alan was hurt. Gordon's little brother was hurt and alone and the only thing he could do about it was wait. What kind of absolute rubbish was that? He had a course set and his engines on full blast and yet he still couldn’t be fast enough.

“Alan, talk to me, what's going on, just in life?” Gordon asked, in hopes of keeping his brother awake. Virgil was on the other line talking with Brains, John, and an Informant from the organization that Alan had just saved (presumably an engineer of some sorts), talking about who knows what. If Gordon's memory serves, his name was Tesla.

That didn’t really matter right now, all that mattered was Alan. All that mattered was that his little brother was safe. And Alan would only be safe once Gordon got him to Virgil. “Uhhh well…” Alan started, his voice hardly registering over the comms. “Physics is kinda sucking right now, it’s all mathy and annoying, I liked it more when it was mainly logic, maths is worse, we’re doing all sorts of trigonometry, y’know, triangles and stuff, and it's super annoying and complex. English has never been a thing I’m good at and we’re doing latin ‘n shit now days so I’m trying really hard not to fail that right now…”

Alan went on, and every time he paused, Gordon had a mini heart attack. One extra long pause scared him, genuinely, “Alan, are you still there?” Another pause, “Alan…?” Thunderbird Three came into view, praise whatever god was out there. “Alan, Alan I’m here!” Gordon said, “Alan, I’m going to doc, then I’m coming to get you,” still no reply. 

Gordon proceeded to dock Thunderbird Four to Thunderbird Three through the secondary airlock. There we go…THERE WE GO! Gordon opened the airlock via security code, then slid down to the cockpit. Gordon tried to put in the security code for the door, said door, was fucking jammed. 

Gordon slammed his entire body weight into the door. Once, twice, click. He got his hand between the door and the wall and pushed against the door with all his weight, even shoving it open with his legs, he rolled down the cockpit to Alan, still awake, “Hey Alan, buddy, lets go, its cold in here,” Gordon slipped Alan onto his arm, taking his younger brothers weight. 

“It is colld,” Alan mumbled, “hey, eyes open Alan c’mon,” Gordon was almost begging his brother at that point. Just to keep his eyes open a little longer. Thunderbird Four had medical supplies, but it wasn’t meant for head wounds. “Alan please don’t die on me,” Gordon whispered, partly to himself, partly to fait. “Ohhhh c’mmon Gordy! I feel fffine!” Alan tried waved him off, but Gordon basically had a death grip on the younger boy. 

“We want to be warm right?” Gordon smiled, trying his best to make it not seemed forced. “So where’re we goooiing?” Alan slurred, “Just Thunderbird Four, in house heating and all!” Gordon was still trying to smile. But it was getting pretty hard to do, the two managed to get back down to Thunderbird Four. Immediately Gordon slid Alan onto the passenger seat of Thunderbird Four, and slipped a thermo-blanket around his younger brother.

“Just stay there okay,” Gordon smiled, still forced, wrapping one of the bandages Thunderbird Four had on board as a temporary solution. To say Gordon ‘rushed’ to the surface would be one hell of an understatement. “Hey, you awake Alan?” Gordon asked, still smiling-Well, trying to smile anyways. “Mhm, ‘m awake,” Alan sure as hell didn’t sound like it, “Stay awake baby brother, stay awake,” he hardly whispered the two surfaced, “Thunderbird Two, get us up there, now,” Gordon glanced back to Alan “TB3?” Gordon whispered, terrified of what he would do with himself if Alan didn’t answer.

“Copy,” Alan muttered, Thunderbird Four suddenly lurched upwards. “LORD ALMIGHTY VIRGIL! A little warning?” Gordon snapped, immediately looking back to check on Alan, who gave his older brother a shaky thumbs up. Virgil immediately helped Alan into Thunderbird Two’s mini-medical bay, and flew straight to Tracy Island. “ETA seven minutes, he’ll be okay.” The resident medic tried his best to soothe Gordon’s anxiety. It didn’t work too well, but he tried to convince himself that it would be fine and Alan would be okay. 

“What’s up with those space guys anyways?” Gordon tried to distract himself with the question, “some contractor colony thing, with a disturbing amount of  weapons at their disposal, why?” Virgil glanced at Gordon, “Just wondering who I should blame for Alan’s current condition, he’s stable, right?” The younger replied, looking straight into the horizon. “Yes, he’s stable, he’ll be okay Gordon,” Virgil looked in the same direction. “If you have to know, the Informant or Ambassador, I guess, called himself ‘Doctor Jasper Tesla’ Brains chewed him out if that gives you any closure.” The older shrugged, “...Thanks I’ll keep that name in mind.”

[dizzydancingdreamer]

I Need You | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! Here’s another Mikaelson Brother’s fic. This time it’s a firefighter AU. I don’t know why I was so inspired but oh well, here it is anyway. Please do ignore the blatant plot holes and dropped plot points. I wrote this purely for the fluff so the rest doesn’t matter too much! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Until next time, all my love!

Description: The brothers are firefighters and they come back to the station after a long day only to find an unconscious woman in their fire station. It turns out she’s their mate and she's seconds from death. From there it’s pure fluff/smut. Honestly the plot of this is weak, I just wanted something majorly fluffy.

Pairing: Female!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! It’s not a full blown smut but it does get heated. It’s hella light smut. Honestly the warning should read something more like “inappropriate actions for on duty firefighters towards a civilian at the workplace”. Take into mind that I do not condone this behaviour outside of my fics but that they are soulmates and it’s all consensual! The other warning is angst. This is super graphic at the beginning but after that it gets better.  

Word count: 7.3k

Tags: Angst, smut, fluff

P.S. This is only in the boys’ perspectives for like five nanoseconds, after that it’s completely in the reader’s

Tag list: @activist-af​ @corishirogane3​

(Pictures not mine, mood board is!)

“Remind me, Elijah,” Klaus runs a hand through his hair, shaking some of the soot from his blonde hair, “why we decided to do this again?”

Elijah huffs indignantly, also shaking out his hair and shrugging the heavy coat off his shoulders. His hoodie underneath is soaked through with sweat and it follows the same path. Klaus already stands in just a t-shirt, the navy material glued to his skin. 

“Don’t you remember, brother?” Kol hops out of the truck from behind the wheel, his bare chest exposed, spare the straps keeping the bottom half of his turnout gear on, a cheerful grin on his lips, “He wanted us to give back to the community. I believe his exact words were firefighters or soldiers.”

It’s true, Elijah had wanted them to do something meaningful with their lives. Well, with a fraction of their lives. He wanted them to be a family again and what better way to do that than to take on a career built on teamwork. Honestly, he had expected them to last maybe six months before quitting but now they were three years deep and he couldn’t see them going anywhere for a while. Somehow station 32 in small town Virginia had become a home base for them.

Elijah leans against the brick of the old fire station, closing his eyes for a moment, “just be happy I didn’t suggest doing both.”

“What makes you think I would follow you to war,” Klaus laughs but it’s hollow, the strain of the day settling over his bones.

They haven’t had a day this strenuous in months, sixteen calls in one day and it’s only eight. Human or not, that’s a lot of heavy lifting. Klaus would do anything for some sleep. He sags against the wall next to his brother. Despite the sleep tugging at his body he can’t seem to relax. Something is keeping his spine rigid, something he can’t quite place his mind on. Oh well. 

Elijah chuckles, his eyes still shut, “you followed me here didn’t you? Face it, you needed this as much as I did.”

Klaus doesn’t speak, he just hums his agreement, something entirely unlike him but brought on from the exhaustion. His shoulders remain tight, his muscles stiff. The air feels like it's buzzing lightly, charged with something he doesn’t have enough energy to think about.

Kol laughs through his own fatigue, stretching his arms behind him, ignoring the way his bones click slightly, “I, for one, need a shower. I smell like flames and I hate it. I suggest you two do the same,” he turns from his slumped brothers, “I can smell you from here.”

Elijah pulls himself from the wall, rolling his shoulders and peeling his eyes open, “come on, Niklaus, you can take a nap for a few hours. I doubt the rest of the night will be eventful, half the town should be asleep by now.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The two brothers catch up with Kol easily, grabbing their discarded gear on the way and heading towards the locker room. Kol is the first to step through the door, adamant on jumping in the shower before his brothers take all the hot water like they usually do, when he stops suddenly, all of his senses on high alert. Something is wrong, terribly so. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, catching the faintest hint of sweetness, like vanilla and oranges, mingled with something sharper. Something too familiar. 

“Kol, what are you-” Elijah doesn’t get to finish his thought.

“Blood,” Klaus pushes past both of them, his eyebrows furrowed, “I smell blood. Someone’s here.”

Kol nods and steps further into the room, directly followed by Klaus and Elijah. As they push forward, towards the showers, the scent of fresh blood intensifies. So does the vanilla citrus perfume, magnifying and tangling around each brother. The room is electrified because of it, drawing them quicker to the heart of the locker room. The distinct sound of three heartbeats fills the room, each one louder than the last. Thump, thump, thump. 

When they turn the corner they freeze, each heart skipping a beat in the same moment. There, in the middle of the showers, is an unconscious woman. A naked, unconscious woman slumped over in a pool of her own blood. Her body is battered, more blue and black than any other color. Who knew a vampire's blood could turn as cold as theirs is right now?

“Fuck,” Kol’s voice is the first to break the tension, dropping to his knees with a dull thud, his heart strings snapping violently in his chest, “fuck!”

Klaus is in front of her in a flash, his teeth ripping into his wrist without a second thought. Kol turns his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. There’s no way he can watch this. The sweet smell wraps around him, taunting him almost. The overwhelming sense of loss wraps around him like a noose, his throat closing harshly. Why now, why like this?

“Is that,” Elijah, too, sinks to the ground, his hands splayed against the concrete, his eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of him, “is that who I think it is?”

His muscles tighten, an indescribable pain rippling through his entire body. He feels like he’s drowning. No, like he’s burning alive. Fuck, it feels like both at the same time. He wants to scream but no sounds are surfacing. This can’t be happening!

Kol’s voice is sharp and cracked, too many emotions to decipher leaking into his words, “yeah, it’s her. It’s our mate.”

Klaus presses his bleeding wrist to her mouth hard, tears streaming freely down his face. He couldn’t care less about how he looks, not right now. Not when it feels like someone is ripping his heart straight from his chest. 

“Come on, love. Wake up. I need you! Wake up!”

                         *          *          *           *          *          *

“Wake up. I need you! Wake up!” 

You tear your eyes open suddenly, bright lights flooding your senses. You gasp as you regain consciousness, something that you realize too late is a mistake. Your mouth is filled with a thick, hot substance, one much too metallic and familiar for your liking, that you inhale by accident. It fills your lungs quickly, your chest burning, and you roll over, hacking up mouthfuls of the disgusting fluid. It feels like your entire body is engulfed in flames. Like you’re dying twice. 

The concrete is freezing against your fiery arms and, when it finally blurs into focus, you realize it’s also covered in a deep red liquid. You run your tongue over your mouth, the tang making your eyes widen. Your heart stutters as you finally come to an understanding. Blood. The floor is covered in blood. Your blood. This time you vomit, and almost scream when you see it matches the liquid around you.

“Shit,” a voice sounds from behind you as a pair of hands slides over your back, startling you further into the sticky redness, “holy shit you’re awake. Oh thank god!”

You flinch away from the hands, turning too quickly to face whoever it is behind you. Mistake number two. The walls start spinning around you and you have to grasp the wet stone beneath you and close your eyes for a moment. When you finally open them again you’re met with a pair of warm, brown eyes. Your heart stutters again, but you don’t have time to wonder why you don’t feel as afraid this time.

“Who are you? What the hell is going on?” you run your eyes over him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “I don’t- where am I?”

Each of your senses are on high alert, your heart beating so loud you’re afraid it’s going to jump out of your chest, as you allow yourself to finally take in your surroundings. You're in a shower room of sorts, with rows of lockers on your one side and the tiled rows of shower stalls on the other. The smell of fresh blood hits you full force and you almost vomit again. You suck in a deep breath, ignoring the burning in your lungs as you try to force the feeling away. Your eyes catch some writing on the wall; Station 32. You look back to the man in front of you, zeroing in on his navy t-shirt with the same logo. 

What the hell are you doing at a fire station? 

He shifts closer to you and you stiffen. A pained expression laces across his face and your chest stings, worse than it did when you were coughing up the blood. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them again there’s a sheen of tears. You swallow thickly, your own tears forming at the sight of his. What on earth is happening?

He sits back on his knees and runs a red hand through his blonde hair, maring the light strands with blood. You tense further at the sight. For some reason you want to stop him from spreading more of the blood over him. He’s already kneeling in a puddle of it, and his arms are soaked, painted in a cruel crimson. Even his t-shirt is drenched.  You grind your teeth together, your jaw clenching harshly. He places both his hands on the floor and takes another few inches towards you.

His movements are slow as if not to startle you, “hey, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’m Klaus, I’m a firefighter here. You’re at station 32, Lexington, Virginia.”

His voice is heavy with emotion, making what you can only assume is a strong british accent even stronger. Your heart tugs harshly when he speaks, begging you to move closer to him. You wrap your arms around yourself, ignoring the increasingly sticky feeling over your entire body. You can’t stop a few tears from slipping down your cheeks.

“How did I get here?” 

A new voice, one just as accented and gravelly, pulls your attention from Klaus, “we aren’t sure, darling. We just got back ourselves. Gave us quite a shock, actually. How much do you remember?”

Your eyes wander around the blonde and land on two more men, two brunettes. You lock eyes with each of them, your heat racing once more. You suck in a breath at the wave of emotions that hit you. Sadness, confusion, longing, comfort. Love. It all hits you at once and you have to close your eyes before the room starts spinning again. When you open them again, they’re closer. Far enough to keep you from tensing, settled next to Klaus. 

You tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling very exposed. One of the men, the one with dark brown hair cut close to his head and concerned brown eyes, notices and wastes no time pulling the t-shirt from his chest and settling it on your knees. It’s warm and a touch damp but you don’t mind, gratefully shuffling it over your head and passing him a grateful nod. It lands mid thigh, circling you in a heady wood scent. Your cheeks flame as you try not to lean down and smell it directly. When you look back at him his eyes are glinting.

“I’m not sure,” you press your palms against your eyes and immediately regret it, the stickiness now smeared on your cheeks and eyelids, “I don’t remember much. Only bits and pieces from this morning but nothing after that. Wait, is that normal? God, why can’t I remember anything!”

All of a sudden you’re panicking and the room begins shrinking, at least it feels like it is. You can’t breathe, your lungs constricting painfully. There isn’t enough oxygen in the room. Was there ever enough? You’re racking your mind for any little thing that you can remember but it’s pointless, you’re going too fast and your mind can’t make sense of anything you’re seeing. You see a sink, one covered in blood. You see teeth. No, you see fangs. You smell the forest, one heavy with pine trees. None of it makes sense!

You claw maniacally at your chest, trying to suck in enough air to clear the fog in your head. Nothing is helping, your body is on fire and sticky and you just want to scream until it all makes sense. The shirt feels three sizes too small and you want to tear it over your head. Just before you can, though,  you’re pulled onto someone's lap, someone who smells like pure water, and you can finally suck in a proper breath. The flames that were lapping your skin slowly start to fade, giving over to a cool sensation that soothes your achy bones. 

“Deep breaths, love,” Klaus��� voice washes over you like a lullaby, his hands rubbing down your back, “that’s good, just like that. We’re going to figure this out but for now you just have to breathe. You’re safe now, I promise you that. We can start with an easy one, what’s your name?”

You sink into his chest more easily than you would like to admit. His arms circle you tighter, his head resting on yours in an entirely unprofessional way but you don’t care. You’ve never felt this kind of need before. You’re afraid that if you leave his arms now then the flames will come back.

“Y/n,” you murmur into his shoulder, “my name is y/n.” 

A pair of hands rub over your shoulders, drawing you into them slightly on instinct, “darling, I know you’re scared but we need to see if you’re seriously hurt. We found you in a lot of blood,” whoever is speaking his voice is rough and he has to stop to clear his throat, muttering a curse under his breath, “do you think you can let us check you over?”

When he brings up the blood, it’s all you can smell again, and you scramble from Klaus’ arms, narrowly making it before you’re vomiting again. This time you don’t puke up any blood, thank god. Just bile, which isn’t much better. The metallic scent is all around you and it’s all you can do to hang your head and suck in as much air as possible. You feel so dizzy it physically hurts.

“Shit, Elijah we gotta get this cleaned up. It’s only making it worse. C’mere love,” you’re pulled into the warm chest of a man you’ve yet to interact with.

You lock eyes with the last man, losing your breath at his honey brown eyes. He smiles softly and you feel your cheeks go hot. You bring your hands to your lips quickly, all too aware of how close you are to this man and the fact that you were just throwing up and are soaked through with blood. You blink back a few tears, embarrassment streaming through you. You glance down at his chest which is now covered in your blood. The man furrows his brows, shaking his head lightly. You can almost hear his thoughts; don’t worry. 

Elijah, the man who gave you his shirt, nods at Klaus, standing quickly, “you two take her to the captain’s bathroom, it’s nicer anyway and more private. I’m not expecting anyone else tonight but I’d rather them not see her like this,” he turns, locking eyes with you, his rough tone softening drastically, “baby, are you okay if they help you clean this blood off? They’re not going to hurt you, we just need to get you cleaned up and warm to make sure you don’t go back into shock.”

The word baby rings through your head, hitting you directly in the chest. Tendrils of warmth unfurl through your body and you find yourself nodding to everything he says. Elijah sags, relief taking over his body. It doesn’t last long though, the tension filling his frame as he looks back around the room.

“Kol,” the man under you tenses, “take her upstairs now. Niklaus, do you mind helping me with this? It’s-” Elijah looks at you again for a moment before he has to look away, “It’s going to take two people.”

Klaus stares at you longingly, the pained look back in his eyes. It makes you want to pull him into your arms, blood or no blood, and hold him. You tense at the thought. Where did that come from?

He looks at you a moment longer before crawling over to and running one of his stained hands over your cheek. He leans down and kisses the top of your head, rubbing his cheek against your matted hair. Sparks dance down your spine at the simple touch, lighting your body like a christmas tree. Too many emotions surface again, confusion and longing being the top contenders. 

“I’ll be with you as soon as I can, love,” he whispers to you before standing himself and addressing Elijah, “yeah, let’s get this over with.”

Elijah nods at Klaus, his shoulders sagging slightly, probably out of relief again. Looking around one last time it’s obvious the job is going to take some major man-power. Thankfully the blood is contained mostly to the showers, but even so it’s coating almost every surface from there on. Looking at it makes you chest heavy again but before you can lose it Kol stands, pulling you up with him. 

He holds you easily, bringing you level with Klaus and Elijah. Elijah strides over to you, taking your face in his hands. Your heart pounds mercilessly at his touch. It takes all your willpower not to jump into his arms and curl around his bare chest. You try not to stare at his taut muscles. Now is definitely not the time to let lust join the myriad of emotions  running through you. Even as you force your eyes away, though, your body ignites and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs around Kol. Fucking hell, what is going on?

Kol’s arms tense suddenly and when you peak back at him, his eyes are shades darker. You swallow thickly, trying not to think too much about the heated look in his eyes. Or how much you don’t want him to stop looking at you like that. You peer back at Elijah, who holds a similar expression. You have to suck in a breath, the room temperature instantly raising ten degrees. 

Elijah leans his forehead against yours, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones gently, “Kol’s going to take you upstairs now, okay baby? He’ll take care of you, help you wash some of this off. You’re in control here, alright? No one else is going to hurt you.”

You nod lightly, your forehead rubbing against his, “okay, Eli.”

He sucks in a sharp breath and presses a hard kiss to your head before releasing you. Kol shuffles you further up his body, drawing your attention to him. He grins at you but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and so warm. He sighs quietly, sinking his cheek into your touch, his eyes losing some of the tension.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, darling.” 

You lower your hand, choosing now to wrap your arms around his shoulders instead. His muscles under your fingertips are glorious, warm and firm. When you rest your face against his shoulder, you breathe in the faintest hints of nutmeg and flames. It’s absolutely intoxicating. His shoulder is hot against your cheek and you finally give into your cravings to curl your body around his, wrapping your legs tightly around his torso and clinging to him for dear life. He holds you against him with everything he has, taking the steps two at a time. 

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes until you feel him enter a separate room, one much smaller than the locker room you were previously in. You’re greeted with a spectacular sight; a spacious bathroom with a wall of showerheads and the biggest clawfoot tub you’ve ever seen. You almost jump from his arms at how badly you want to get in it.

He sets you down on a vast countertop, the cool marble biting into your bottom. You shiver lightly, a warm blush spreading down your neck and chest. He places his arms on either side of you, staring at you with a mixture of tenderness and caution. You have to will yourself to keep looking into his eyes and not at the way his arms flex from how he’s leaning. God, where did all these wanton feelings come from?

“Okay, darling, where are we going from here? What do you need me to do?” his accent is fuller due to the acoustics in the bathroom and you nearly keel over from how hard it slams through your body, tugging at every nerve south of your belly button.

“Um,” you clear your throat lightly, swallowing the sudden scratchiness, “do you think there’s a toothbrush anywhere around here?”

Kol grins knowingly, leaning down and opening a drawer next to your thigh. The heat rolling off his body rushes into your legs and when he resurfaces with a new toothbrush and a cheeky smile you’re practically panting.

“Thanks.”

You brush your teeth quickly, making sure to scrub the remnants of the past thirty minutes or so from your mouth. It instantly makes you feel a little better, knowing you can speak to Kol without your breath being a biohazard. You set the toothbrush down, looking back to him appreciatively. 

Kol cups your chin gently, spreading heat like butter through your bones,“Do you think you can stand? If you can, I can wait outside while you get cleaned up. You can take as much time as you need, darling. I’ll be right outside the door.”

Your heart pounds quickly at his suggestion, your throat closing painfully. You don’t want him to leave you alone, even if he is just outside the door. You don’t know how to ask him to stay, though, and you don’t want to cross any boundaries. You’re so damn conflicted that your chest aches.

“Okay.”

He nods, his eyes a touch less bright than they were a few moments ago, and he backs away hesitantly. You use all your energy to push yourself off the counter, using it to keep yourself upright when your feet touch the floor. Your legs feel like jelly and you wonder for a moment if you have any bones. You shake your head lightly, scolding yourself. Don’t be stupid, y/n, of course you have bones. However, when you go to take a step towards the bathtub you almost revoke the sentiment. Your legs crumple around you, bringing you to a pile on the floor. 

“Fuck,” Kol is next to you in no time at all, his hands rushing over your legs, most likely checking for damage, “I knew that was going to happen I don’t know why I let you do that, darling. I was trying to give you space. Are you okay? Elijah and Klaus are going to kill me.”

He mutters the last part under his breath but you still catch it, “it’s not your fault, I was trying not to bother you. I thought I could make it to the tub, at least, and then figure the rest out from there. I, uh,” you scrub your hands over your face, covering your eyes with your palms, “I didn’t want to be a burden, more than I already am I mean.”

A few more tears slip past your guard, tracking lines through the dried blood on your cheeks. You swallow a sob before it can make any noise, your shoulders shaking slightly from the cold tiles underneath you. You’re utterly exhausted. You wish you could just click your heels and go home. The only problem is that something tells you that you’d only end up here again if you could do that.

“No,” Kol’s voice is low and strained, “no, darling, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault,” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his hot, nutmeg chest, “you’re not a burden to me. Or Elijah or Klaus. You’re a surprise and not an unwelcome one. If you need me to stay, hell, if you want me to stay I will. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do, okay?”

You peer up at him, clinging to his toned chest like you’re afraid it’ll vanish from underneath you, “please get this blood off of me, Kol. I can’t do it, I can’t even hold myself up. I need you.”

His eyes darken again, the honeyed brown turning a darker chocolate color, “you have me, darling, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he leans down and brushes his nose against yours, “never ever.”

A tiny giggle bubbles in your chest and it feels like freedom. It feels like falling asleep on the beach and hiking through the mountains and every good thing you’ve ever experienced. Kol’s eyes light up and he bites back a grin before doing it again, pulling a flood of giggles from you. Soon you're throwing your arms around him, laughing your head off for no reason at all, him joining you in the madness. You can’t stop and you don’t want to. You need this, you need him. It frightens you how intensely you feel connected to him already but you push the fear away for the time being. 

“Okay, okay,” Kol scoops you against him and stands, “enough of that, love, time for a bath.”

That effectively puts an end to your giggling, your body igniting at the thought of taking a bath with this second coming of adonis. You swallow the lump in your throat, this time caused by the rippling of his taut muscles against you. The t-shirt you’re wearing feels see through suddenly, the thin layer between your core and his stomach doing little to quell the heat seeping from the crack between your thighs. 

You dig your fingers into his shoulders a little harder than you mean to, pulling a soft grunt from him, one that you can feel in your own chest, “bath. Okay.”

Your cheeks flame at your idiotic response. Bath. Okay. What the hell was that?

He walks to the tub and sets you gently on the floor of it, the porcelain ice against your flesh. He turns, his back facing you as he pulls his suspenders off. You admire the fluid movement of his muscles as he steps out of his stained turnout gear, leaving him in a pair of grey sweatpants. His back is toned like a greek god’s and you would like nothing more in this moment than to know what it feels like to dig your nails into it. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to air the wanton out of your system. Don’t be a hussy, y/n. He turns back to you and your face flushes when he catches your lingering stare.

He hooks his fingers in his sweatpants and your breath catches in your throat. He lifts his eyebrow, silently asking if it’s okay for him to continue. Your mouth feels dry, your head is spinning. Slowly you nod, your eyes glued to his. He smirks lighty, an action so doused in sex that almost has you pulling Elijah’s t-shirt from your body and falling at his feet. You hold your breath as he pulls the sweatpants from his body and your heart almost falls out of your chest when they reveal a pair of grey plaid boxers. What were you expecting? Your subconscious taunts you mercilessly.

He steps into the bathtub behind you, kneeling and grabbing the showerhead on the way down. The heat rolling off of him seems to have increased, wrapping around you and daring you to melt into him. You want to, so badly you do, but you remain upright, your hands on the side of the tub, leaving rusty smudges on the crisp, white edges. 

Kol leans forward, his mouth right next to your ear sending shivers straight to your core when he speaks, “darling, I’m going to need to take this off,” his fingers tease the tops of your thighs, curling around the hem of the t-shirt, “may I do that?” 

He presses his face against your neck, laying a few soft kisses to the skin under your jaw. You roll your head back onto his shoulder, savouring his affection and warmth for a moment without overthinking it. 

You nod against his skin, “yes, Kol.”

You can feel the breath he takes against your back and then, when he releases it, against your neck. He takes his time, his fingers gently skimming your sides as he gathers the fabric up and over your head. You raise your arms to make it easier for him, gasping gently as cool air rolls over your exposed breasts. He tosses Elijah’s t-shirt to the side, running his hands down your back and planting another kiss to your uncovered shoulder. 

You know you should feel ashamed for being this naked with a man you just met but you physically can’t bring yourself to feel any of it. All you know is that you’re comfortable and that his hands on your skin feel like genuine magic. 

“Okay, I’m going to turn the water on now,” he rubs his nose down the back of your neck, “let me know if it’s too hot or anything.”

Your eyes prickle at how sweet he is, how gentle he is with you. He definitely doesn’t look like the gentle type, all tall, dark, and broody, but the way he’s acting proves otherwise. You nod your head, leaning your chin on the edge of the tub. He starts the water, a plume of steam instantly clouding the bathroom. The first stream to hit you is heavenly and you can’t help but close your eyes.

“Is that okay, darling?” 

You hum quietly, “it’s perfect.”

You let the water lull you into a daze, picturing the stream turning red as the water rolls off you and down the drain. It’s mesmerizing, the warmth of the water combined with Kol’s heady scent. When he touches you, though, it’s like a crescendo of feeling. His fingers run over your back, no doubt washing away the events of this evening, but all you can think about is how perfect his hands feel against your bare skin. 

Everywhere he touches blazes to life. You feel like putty in his hands, willing to mold however he needs you to. When his fingers glide down your sides your body reacts without warning, your back arching against his chest. You can feel his chest rumble under your back more than you can hear it. His large hands span your back easily, spreading over your ribcage, his thumbs gently grazing your breasts. You suck in a harsh breath, clenching your teeth to keep his name in your mouth. It’s begging to be said though. Said, screamed, praised. Anything. Fuck it.

“Kol,” you breathe, reaching back to grasp at his forearms for stability, “more.”

The growl that rips from his chest is unexpected but it lights every fibre of your being alive. He pulls you hard against his solid chest, falling against the back of the tub and shifting you so you’re perfectly centered on his lap. A flare of pleasure flashes up your spine when you land on something hot and hard. You hiss at the thin layer of clothing between you and Kol.

His lips find your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and sending even more heat pooling in your core, “as you wish, darling.”

Your hands fall away as his hands cover your breasts, his thumbs skillfully sliding over your hard nipples. This time you don’t whisper his name, you moan it. Loudly. Every time he rolls your nipples between his fingers, you see stars. You see the whole damn galaxy. His lips find your shoulder, biting down gently but hard enough to pull a string of incoherent praise from your lips. 

His chest rumbles with every noise you make and the ball of heat between your legs grows brighter. You rock your hips against his, trying to build some much needed friction. The noise you pull from him is the epitome of heaven and it hits you right in the chest. It compels you to keep grinding your core against him harder, taking every sound he offers up and matching it with one of your own. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, rolling your head onto his shoulder as the anticipation sings through your body. 

Your senses are flooded, your hearing muffled by the running water and your blood pumping through your ears, which is probably why you don’t hear the door open and someone step into the bathroom. It’s only when a pair of lips attaches to the base of your neck do you peel your eyes open. You meet Klaus’ stare with a gasp, just as Kol pinches your nipples harder than all the times before. 

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, tearing through your nerves without warning and rendering you to pieces. All the while Klaus takes your arm, placing tantalizing, open mouth kisses down your skin. When you finally come down from the climax, your muscles are layered with a sweet exhaustion. Kol nuzzles against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Fuck, darling,” he nips at your shoulder and your skin zings lightly, “you have no idea how much I needed that.”

Your eyes meet Klaus’ and your cheeks flame from the intensity of his stare, “I didn’t do anything, you did it all.”

You want to look away from Klaus, you want to feel some inkling of shame, but you can’t. All you want is to do is hook your arm around his neck and bring him closer to you. Your body craves his and it’s all you can do to not melt into his palm when he cups your cheek. 

“That’s the point, love,” Klaus runs his thumb over your skin, “he just wanted to touch you.”

Kol hums his agreement into your flesh, his lips still glued to you. 

“Do you want to touch me?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, your eyes widening as soon as you register what you just said.

In less than a second, the brown eyes staring into your turn a dark coal color. The skin around Klaus’ eyes turns a deep purple. Your breath hitches at this side of him, a deep longing settling in your chest the longer you stare into his eyes. He's ethereal and entirely unhuman but you can’t even think about that. You want him so bad it stings. He has to shut his eyes for a few moments and when he opens them again his eyes are back to normal, if not a touch darker. 

When he speaks his voice is gravelly, “I need to.” 

You swallow hard, forcing the words out before you have time to lose your nerve, “come here then.”

Klaus’ eyes widen before he stands abruptly, shoving his own jogging pants down his legs before stepping into the other side of the tub. Kol lets you go as Klaus settles against the porcelain. As soon as he’s comfortable he wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest. Your legs end up on either side of him, much like how you were with Kol, your core pressed against the hardest part of him.

His crisp scent folds around you and sucks you deeper against him until your chest to chest, your breasts pressing into his firm chest. His arms settle around your back, his palms splayed over your spine. Your flesh buzzes from the contact, goosebumps rising when he traces lazy circles with his fingertips. You meet his eyes again and involuntarily clench your thighs around his hips. He’s looking at you like you’re the only girl he’s ever laid eyes on. Like he’s in the presence of a goddess and that he would gladly lay his life down for you. 

Your eyes draw down to the tattoo on his chest, an image of birds in flight, and you run your fingers over it gently. He sucks in a breath when you touch him, closing his eyes and leaning back against the edge of the tub. Something about his reaction spurs you on. If that’s what your fingers can do, what can your mouth do? You lean down, gently attaching your lips to his collarbone and tugging his skin into your mouth.

He jolts up when you bite down lightly, jostling you further onto his lap and sending waves of heat rolling over your body, “fuck,” his hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you impossibly closer to him, “love, you have no idea how good that feels.”

You pull back slightly, your mouth still against his skin as your eyes bore into his, “show me.”

His chest rumbles under your lips before he pulls your head back gently and slams his lips against your throat. He sucks your skin into his mouth and, for the second time tonight, you see stars. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, lacing your fingers through his blonde hair. You tug him closer to you, crossing your ankles behind his back. You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours. 

He bites down, his teeth scraping pleasure into every nerve, and you pull at his soft hair, praises falling mindlessly from your lips, “Klaus.”

A second pair of hands glides over your back, “darling, let me wash your hair. I can feel Elijah getting restless. Unless you want three men in this tub with you, I need to finish getting you cleaned up.”

Your heart pounds at the thought of Elijah in the bath with you, his large body pressed against yours. You can practically smell his pine scent in the air, clinging to your skin. You bite your lip. You want to moan his name and he isn’t even in the room. You shake the thought from your mind, leaning into Kol’s hands.

Klaus kisses up your neck, peppering your jaw and cheeks with pecks before pulling you to lay against his chest. You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion that’s been building flood your system. Kol soaks your hair, the warm water pouring down your shoulders as you press your face into Klaus’ neck. His hands draw lazily up and down your sides as Kol massages shampoo against your scalp. You mewl at his touch and cling to Klaus. You could stay in the moment forever, it’s absolutely blissful.

Just as Kol is rinsing the shampoo from your hair, the door to the bathroom opens revealing a shirtless Elijah. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. In his hand is a large towel. His eyes zero in on you from across the room and, though you can’t see them clearly, you can tell they’re dark. Your head goes fuzzy as your eyes draw down his sculpted chest, lingering on his rippled stomach. You meet his eyes again and give into your instincts, reaching your arms out for him.

“Eli,” you call out to him, “I need you.”

You stand on wobbly feet, bearing everything to him. You don’t care, you just want to be in his arms. You haven’t had a chance to touch him yet and your body is screaming at you to get as close to him as humanly possible. Even more than humanly possible. Elijah closes the space between the two of you in seconds, wrapping the towel around you before pulling you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms circling his neck. 

He leans down, rubbing his nose against yours, “I need you too, baby.” 

You slip your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, playing with the soft strands mindlessly. He leans into your touch and your heart soars. He hikes you further up your body, leaning his face against your shoulder. You run your hands over his shoulders, sighing when the tension leaves his muscles. 

“I’m going to go sleep for a few hours,” Elijah mumbles into your shoulder but his words aren’t aimed at you, “do you think the two of you will be okay until then.”

Klaus waves his hand dismissively and Kol nods, still draped lazily over the edge of the tub, “yeah, yeah, go, we’ll be fine brother.”

Wait, what? 

Did you hear that right? Brother. Your entire body sets on fire. They’re all related. Well, there’s the shame you were missing at least. You push against Elijah’s chest, forcing him to meet your eyes. When he sees your expression his brows pull together, his brown eyes filled with concern.

“Baby-” 

“You’re all brothers?” you breathe, your face burning, “brothers? What on earth is going on?”

He stares into your eyes for a moment before laughing, turning with you in his arms and starting towards the door. You lock eyes with Klaus and Kol over Elijah’s shoulder. They, too, are laughing without a care. Kol tosses you a wink just as Elijah carries you into the hallway.

You circle your arms around his shoulders again, “Lijah this is crazy. Explain. Please.”

He pulls you through another door, exposing you to a comfortable looking bed. Just looking at it sends sleep pooling in your limbs. He sets you in the middle of it before climbing on after you. He pushes you backwards and you fall into a pile of pillows, the towel long forgotten as he crawls on top of you. Your body flares with something hot as he holds himself on his forearms, his hot chest grazing yours with every breath he takes. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you despite your still unanswered questions.

“Lijah,” you whine as his lips find your neck, arching into his touch like two magnets connecting, “I need answers.”

Elijah’s teeth scrape at your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips. You’re so tired but the want that swirls in your core demands anything but sleep. You grip his shoulders, digging your fingers into his firm muscles. You pull his hips closer to yours, rolling against him desperately. You press your head into the pillows, exposing as much of your neck as you can to him.

He pulls away and you have to swallow your protests. When you finally open your eyes, you’re met with the same dark eyes you saw from Klaus, only now they’re accented by a pair of sharp looking fangs. You suck in a deep breath, reaching up to cup Elijah’s jaw. 

“I know, baby,” he rubs his face into your hand, “I’ll give you all the answers you need and more but first I need you. I have waited a thousand years for you and now that I have you I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go yet. Please, baby, let me have you.”

His words wrap around you, every part of your being, and sink into your core. A wave of longing hits you again, and something else that you’re not ready to explore. It makes your heart warm and your body crave every inch of his. You already knew your answer before he asked. You’ve known since you woke up to the three of them.

Maybe you even knew before that.

You pull his face to yours, capturing his lips with your own, “you already have me. I’m yours.”

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

So far what has been the worst thing about being pregnant?

oh so much, so equally.

sciatica, making it so i physically cannot walk without excruciating pain, but only at night when i need to get out of bed to piss. (thankfully i am not a type who needs to piss all the time. yet.)

acid reflux, a constant cold burn in my throat unfazed by tums but is ignorable if im constantly drinking something. so my stomach is always full of liquid, which makes the acid worse, so i have to keep drinking so i dont feel it.

i am So Fucking Hungry. “have less food more often! smaller, more frequent meals!” they say. “because your stomach will get smaller as baby grows!” i dont fucking think so babe. yes i can handle it. yes i know baby is growing rapidly and needs the nutrients and thats why my stomach is constantly growling. baby wants the entire meal, and baby wants another in two hours. pay up or perish. (by perish i mean my stomach will growl so loud you go deaf)

speaking of deaf, the sinus pressure has closed up one of my ears. it’ll go away after birth but the other ear has pulsatile tinnitus that i need surgery for because the sinus pressure and increased blood supply pushed my eardrum back, and i need a replacement prosthetic of some bone in my ear that isnt doing its job.

speaking of sinuses, there’s so much fucking blood in my body that sinus pressure causes nosebleeds, a common pregnancy issue. however, because of allergies i already had prior, my sinuses keep all the blood clotting up inside my sinuses. and because of acid reflux, i’m constantly spitting, so it never has time to settle and properly bleed. instead i cough, snort, and spit up 5-8 BLOOD CLOTS. FROM MY SINUSES. per day. some darker and heavier, most smaller and less dense. i am constantly creating suction pressure in my throat to dislodge blood clots from my nasopharynx. i am always snorting.

my tits are disgusting. i have lymphedema in the breasts, rather uncommon, and it has been completely mimicing the symptoms of breast cancer without having any lumps or actual tumors to show for it. anywhere. they’re simply an angry warm red, feel like an orange peel, hard as dried playdough, and the consistency of a memory foam mattress.

“yr areolas will darken uwu!”

and thats just what i hate the MOST.

things that just annoy me include:

always feeling both exhausted and like i NEED to clean everything. everything. all the time. im noticing dirt and mess that i’ve never seen before in my life. im rewashing perfectly clean items because im not the one who washed them initially.

nesting feels itchy. im exhausted midway through organizing the entire bathroom but i Have To keep going. its compulsive. it feels like an actual rat in my brain trying to claw its way out. and i struggle so badly to ignore it because half the shit i want to do cant be done until mid april. and it’s been scratching at me since like january. it kind of hurts.

also i love kicks but the rolls and swishes feel fucking gross, it feels like there’s a goldfish in my stomach just flopping around nastily. it tickles in a gross way.

i have to sleep on a wedge pillow in addition to my C pillow. both help immensely, but im so blocked off from davyn and it makes me sad. i have to tear my little nest apart if i want to cuddle, and then i can’t for very long because he lays down flat, and the aggravates my acid really badly.

horribly vivid dreams. ive never felt more disturbed by my dreams than i have the past few weeks. it feels so real, nothing like a normal weird dream. the concepts are strange but the environment is so convincing. and it’s usually nightmares.

im really forgetful now and its kind of scary. like genuinely scary because it feels like im losing my mind and its bringing up a lot of... gaslighty trauma from when i was a teenager. sometimes my memory is as perfect as usual, sometimes i forget what just came out of my mouth two seconds ago. davyn is really patient when i get scared.

and i have it relatively easy.

i dont have gestational diabetes, which would necessitate an entirely new diet that i KNOW i wouldnt be able to sustain.

i don’t have blood clots, so i dont have to take those awful shots that bruise the injection site so terribly(i took them after my knee surgery, i switched to warfarin because i couldnt stand the shots anymore after only a week).

i dont have cervical insufficiency, which runs in my family and would necessitate a much higher level of care.

i dont have an Rh incompatibility with my baby, which would necessitate a higher level of care but also one of the most painful shots you can get in pregnancy. in the ass cheek.

i didnt have morning sickness AT ALL, just occasional nausea and not even consistently. some people puke multiple times a day and struggle eating anything. for the entire duration.

i don’t have tons of emotional outbursts, i had one breakdown about davyn eating my banana, one about davyn saying “the pillow is my girlfriend now” because i fixated on the word girlfriend, one because i left soda in the freezer and it exploded, and i cry easily over touching youtube videos a little more easily. thats it. 3 breakdowns and a tender heart. over the past 7 months.

i have it quite easy, and most of all im doing this on purpose.

i’ll say it again every time: reproductive choice is a hill i will happily die on. absolutely fucking nobody deserves any of this, least of all people who don’t know its coming and didnt want it anyway.

i wanted this, and im doing it eagerly. i just also hate it and it sucks and im glad it’ll be over soon and i can have my screamy poopy wrinkly baby on the outside where i can actually LOOK at them and HOLD them and know the tangible fruits of my labor. feels like im wading through a sewer to reach some unknown treasure that im praying will still be there when i get to the end.

make sure your birth control timer is set properly. wrap yr meat. stay aware. etc.

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter III

-> sallyfacexf!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, abuse, violence

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) wakes up early to avoid sally. sally’s upset that he did something wrong yesterday. (y/n)’s first meeting with travis isn’t the nicest.

The incessant beeping of your alarm tugs you out of your dreamless sleep.

The sticky tears on the ground remind you of yesterday’s events, but you disregard them. All you want to do is take a shower, throw on your jacket and get out the door. You slowly clamber up off the ground and across the living room to turn off the alarm. After making sure it’s not on snooze, you drag your sore body to the shower. It smells like smoke and lots of cleaning supplies. This place is fucking gross. Is it even monday?’ you check the calendar. It is, in fact, monday. You strip and turn the shower handle.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You're so glad that you chose to wake up early. Usually kids this far from school drive or get picked up by the bus, but you prefer to use your skateboard. That’s why you get up at 6:30, so you have enough time to get ready and get to school on time. Sanity’s fall quietly played as you washed your breakfast plate and cup, brushing grease residue off the greyish porcelain. You wonder if Sal is awake yet. Probably not. You know, waking up early ensures that you won't see him in the morning. The guy’s not that bad, his eyes just freak you out a little.

Pulling the pink glove off your prosthetic, you wipe your hands with a towel and move to the closet to put your shoes on.

“Jacket, jacket, jacket, jacket.” you mumble, eyebrows knitted. “Where are you?” oh, right, you left it in your room.. With poppy. Was that even her name? You kind of just decided it for her.

Alright, don't be a pussy. Just go in and grab the jacket. You sucked in a breath and opened the door to your room.

“Eeh! A teenager! What’s your name, little lady?” her blond ponytail bounced with every sentence. This was the first time you could get a good look at her. She didn't really have feet, just bloody stumps where they used to be.

“Holy fuck, you’re so loud!” your hands covered your ears.

“Ahh, so sorry! I haven't used my voice in years.” she coughs.

“S’ fine... Can I just- just grab my jacket?” you point at the green pile amidst the boxes all around the room. You didn't get a chance to set up.

“Go ahead!” she nods and smiles.

“Alright. uh, listen, lady. This-” you motion towards the whole room. “Is my room. I live here now. I get that you, like, can't leave this place and shit, but could you maybe sit quietly while i set up later? I really need to clean my room up. I’ll set up a little chair place for you or whatever, so you could sleep at night.” you mumble the last part, embarrassed about your hospitality.

“I can’t sleep.” she smiles, her teeth surprisingly shiny for a ghost’s. God, she’s so preppy that you forgot she’s dead.

“Pretend to then, i dont fucking know. Alright, i have to go. Just… don't cause trouble.” grabbing the jacket, you begin shutting the door. “My name’s (y/n), by the way.”

You can hear her squeals as you leave the apartment. You decide to take the elevator because you don't feel like running down the stairs with a heavy ass bag on your back.. Stepping in, you press the main floor button. It looks like there’s a bit of sticky stuff around it. gross. Syrup? You hoped so.

The elevator dings and you step out, heading out the front doors. It’s cloudy. Again. Not a surprise, really. Keeping your eyes on the gravel, you set down your skateboard and begin your journey to school.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sal’s point of view:

“She probably went on without us, man. Don’t know why you're worrying so much.'' Larry leaned back into the bus seat.

“It’s not that, Larry face. Yesterday, when we left…” was it my fault? Did i scare her? Did she see my face through the mask? Fuck.

“What is it? Spit it out, sally dude.” he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and puffed the smoke out the window.

“I think i scared her, larry. I think she saw my face.” i let out a shaky breath. God, everything was going good. Why the fuck does this stupid face ruin everything?

“Did you- did you take your mask off?” he sat up in the seat, eyes wide.

“No. She probably saw it through my mask.”

“I still dont get it. Explain more, dude.”

“She looked so scared. We made eye contact, and she, like, panicked. Her eyes widened and then she threw me out. It was definitely my eyes. We were fine the whole night, i dont know why she freaked out.”

Larry let out a long hum. He was probably trying to piece things together. Anyway, she definitely went to school earlier than us. I can ask her about it there.

“Woah, sally face. Calm down or you’ll go bald.” larry’s hands pulled mine off my pigtails. Huh, i didnt even notice.

“Thanks, dude. I think we’re here.”

Your point of view:

It was around eight o’clock by the time you arrived. Kids were already piling out of buses and cars, standing by the school’s entrance and conversing with their friends. You definitely felt some eyes on you. That was expected, though. They didnt recognize you, and nockfell didnt seem like a town with many new people. Thinking back to yesterday, sal and larry mentioned some bully kid. Probably wouldnt be hard to spot him.

“Watch it, goth freak!” a pair of hands gripped onto your shoulders.

Ah, what a coincidence.

“Get the fuck off me, fucking prick.” he twitched as you gripped onto his hands and pushed him away.

“Is that a metal hand? Ha, you’re a fucking cripple! How pathetic.” he chuckled. Blond hair draped itself across his forehead, definitely not complimenting the purple shade of his shirt and eye. School fight? or daddy issues? Who knows. I mean, you’re not one to speak, your dad’s literally dead.

“Let me guess, you’re that bully fucker they talked about. God, isnt there enough troubled kids in Nockfell?” you rolled your eyes, just wanting to get to school.

When you said you had bad luck, you really meant it, because all of a sudden, his fist landed on your face.

Are you fucking serious?

You just moved here yesterday and you’ve already been fucked up twice. You can’t keep taking hits, (y/n)! You gotta dish some out!

Sighing in disbelief, you reached out to your gushing nose.

“Mother.” you flicked the blood off your prosthetic hand. “Fucker.”

At this, travis bolts. You drop your bag and get back on your skateboard, weaving through the crowd to get to that shrimpy little fuck.

“I’m so fucking done with nockfell.” blood trails down the side of your face as you lock your eyes on the blond mop of hair in front of you.

Do you jump? Or let him get away?

Nah, you jump.

The skateboard shoots out beneath you as you kick off. He lets out a strangled cry as you land on his back and send him to the concrete. A few whoops can be heard from the kids far behind you.

“Fuck, i’m sorry! Get off me!” he scrambles beneath you.

“Now you’re fucking sorry?”

He doesnt say anything. You slowly climb off, keeping a hand on his neck.

“Pussy.” a snicker escapes you.

“What’d you just-” the hand on his neck squeezes tighter and shuts him up.

“What’s your name again?”

“Tr-travis, fuck.”

“Travis, huh? Well, travis-”

“(Y/n)? What are you doing on Travis?”

Sal’s point of view:

Me and larry were getting off the bus when we heard a bunch of cheering. Weird. I looked in the direction larry was staring. Hold on, that’s travis and some other kid on top of him.

“Sally face! I think that’s fucking (Y/n)! Holy shit!” larry shakes my shoulder. That’s actually her! What is she doing on travis?

“Larry, c’mon, we have to go get her off!” i try pulling him away, but he doesnt budge.

“No way, man! I wanna see her beat him up! She’s doing what you won’t let me do!” he smiles wide. Fuck, i guess i’ll just have to go alone. Larry frowns as i drop my bag and begin running towards them. I’m not letting her get in trouble on the first day. I hear her say something to him as i come closer.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing on travis?”

She looks up in surprise. Holy shit, she’s bleeding!

“I’ve gotten fucked up twice in the past 24 hours. I’m not letting this fuck get away with it.” She snarls. As bad as i feel, she’s kind of attractive, bloody and feral like that. God, what the fuck? Not time for this, sal.

“Oh my god, (y/n)! Here, uh, get up and i’ll take you to the office.”

Your point of view:

You look back at travis. There’s a visible blush on his face, and he’s staring straight at sally.

Oh.

OH.

A smirk forms on your face.

“No thanks, porcelain face. Me and blondie here will go by ourselves. Right?”

He growls, but you tighten your grip on his neck again and he nods.

“Uh, okay. Do you want me to take your skateboard or something?” Sal scratches his head and changes the topic. Just a sliver of jealousy can be found in him, but he is grateful for the nickname. It suits him.

Your expression darkens for a second, all of a sudden feeling possessive of your skateboard. He’s not touching it. It was your dad’s.

“No. Take my bag or something.” you nod towards it by the entrance of the school, where it sits. He obeys and gets up to pick up your bag. You pull travis up with you, blood dripping down your shirt and an arm around his shoulders. Sal’s quite a bit away at this point.

“You gay?” you hum. Travis’s back straightens and fear flashes through his eyes. How did you know? How the fuck did you know?

“No! Fuck you, you’re just a pussy who thinks she knows everything-” he starts yelling, trying to get away, but you interrupt him.

“God, shut up. You’re making my head hurt more. It’s okay, you know. I wont fucking tell anyone about your little self exploration journey.” you pat him on the back and he flushes.

“Fuck, you’re so sappy it’s disgusting.”

“I’m not gonna be a dick to someone because of their sexuality, fuckass. I’m not that low. Let’s get to the school.”

taglist: @dream-of-eros @potatochic2003 @mr-bombastic @purelydarling @ghostfacefricker6969 @deadpoetsandhoney

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Fake Dating Drabble No. 3

Today with Javier Peña (x OFC) who told Connie he had a (non existent) girlfriend so she stops setting him up on dates. Big thanks to @ladyreapermc​ for the idea 😘😘😘

Steph’s fake dating Drabble week

This is like 1.7k so not really a Drabble but 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: alcohol, cursing

He was fucked. Why the fuck did he agree to bring his girlfriend to the weekly Sunday dinner at the Murphy’s? The very much not real girlfriend he lied about because he didn’t want Connie to set him up with another nurse or doctor from the hospital she worked in.

He loved Connie, he really did. But sometimes she didn’t know when to stop.

“Don’t you want to settle down Javier? You’re not getting any younger,” she had asked.

“I have this very nice doctor friend at the hospital. She’s American and very intelligent and single…” Connie had started. He knew where this was going.

“Connie. I appreciate it but…” Javier looked at Steve who looked suspicious at him.

“I have a girlfriend. So you can stop setting me up on dates, okay?” He thought he had heard the last of it.

“You bring your girlfriend next week yeah?” Connie had asked, very much not about to take no for an answer as the Murphy’s walked him to the door. Javi had looked at Steve who almost cried silent tears to suppress his laughter.

“I don’t know…”

“See you next Sunday Javier. Let me know if she’s allergic to anything, yeah?” Connie smiled as she hugged him goodbye.

“Yeah…” he sighed. Connie went back inside, leaving Steve and him standing outside.

“So that girlfriend of yours…”

“Fuck you, Steve,” Javi hissed, making Steve chuckle.

“Don’t think about bringing one of your… Informants yeah? She’s gonna figure that out immediately.”

Javier turned around, giving Steve the finger as he walked back to his apartment.

It was Saturday and he still had no fucking idea who to bring. Javier wasn’t someone who had many friendships. The only real friend he really had was with Steve. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone. And he wouldn’t be any help. That fucker had teased him the whole week.

“Another one?” Mary asked. Javier found himself sitting at the counter of his favorite bar. It was getting close to midnight.

“You trying to get me drunk, Hermosa?” Javi smirked, looking up at the woman in front of him.

“You wish, Peña. I’m only this nice because you tip well,” she grinned, filling his glass. Javier kept looking at her. He didn’t know much about Mary. Only that she came to Colombia for a job that she quit after 6 months because the boss was harassing her. She started out working shifts at the bar. She was younger than him, but only by a couple of years. She was hilarious, intelligent and beautiful. It was like a lamp went on in his slightly drunk brain.

“You okay there, Javier? Is there something in my face?” she asked when he just kept looking at her.

“I need you to be my girlfriend,” Javier said.

“Excuse me?” she asked with big eyes.

“Fuck. Shit. It’s perfect. You’re perfect…” he ran a hand through his hair, his other hand grabbing the package of cigarettes, bringing one to his lips.

“Okay no more whiskey for you. I’m gonna call you a cab,” she shook her head at him.

“No… Let me explain. Fuck I shouldn’t drink that much.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you for a year,” she teased and he grinned.

“And you’re right. Anyway. I need a date.”

“The brothel is right down the street.”

“No. Wow. Fuck you’re mean. No. I need a date because I told Connie that I have a girlfriend so she stops nagging me to settle down or set me up on dates with every woman in Bogotá she knows.” He explained. Mary looked at him before she burst out in laughter, gathering a few confused looks from the people around her.

“Sorry…” she shook her head, trying to stop herself from laughing.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Javier smirked, his cigarette almost out.

“Javier I saw you leave with another woman only two days ago. How would that even work?”

“That’s not a no,” Javier grinned and she sighed.

“It’s not a yes either.”

“Well… You’d only have to pretend. Connie likes you. Steve knows I’m lying so…”

“So... Why not tell Connie that you lied?”

“You know Connie…” he groaned. Mary looked at him, the man who somehow became her favorite customer because he was the only one not trying to get her to fuck him. And now he was asking her to play his girlfriend. She shook her head.

“You better tipping me really, really good, Peña.”

Mary was at his place 15 minutes early. She even had put a dress on. The food better was worth it. Javier opened the door after the third knock and she grinned.

“Hi babe,” she teased, walking past him.

“I’m regretting this already,” he muttered, trying not to let his eyes wander down her body, but failing miserably. He had never seen her in a dress, let alone anything that made her body look so… so…

“So how do we do this?” she turned around and Javier looked up into her eyes.

“Well, I’m a very physical man…”

“Is that your way of telling me that you won’t keep your hands to yourself?” she raised one eyebrow.

“Well it has to appear real…” he smirked. She bit her lip, looking at him as she crossed her arms in front of her. He fought the urge to look at her cleavage as she shamelessly checked him out.

“If you get too handsy, I will break your fingers,” she clarified.

“What is too handsy?” he asked with a smirk. She walked towards him, her hands on his chest as she blinked up at him.

“I think you know what’s too handsy, Agent Peña,” she winked and he shakily breathed out. Shit. Were her eyes always this bright green?

“You wanna kiss me, Javi?” she whispered with a small smile.

“You want me to?” he asked hoarsely. She chuckled before she shook her head, patting his chest twice, and parted from him.

“I’m starving, let’s go!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that it’s Mary you’re dating,” Connie was sitting on the couch next to Steve who had the time of his life. He had to give it to Javier, he really did try hard. Mary was lovely. And funnily she would be just what Javi needed and the longer the night progressed the more Steve noticed the way Javi was looking at her. If Steve didn’t know better he would really buy it.

“So Javier ended up shitfaced at the bar and I took him home…” Mary told Connie and Javier rolled his eyes. That really did happen and she had been giving him shit about it for the last three months.

“And before I left him to sleep, he drunkenly asked me to be his girlfriend to which I only laughed and went out. Turns out he was genuine about it.” The way Mary lied without blinking an eye towards Connie who seemed smitten was unbelievable to Javi.

“Well, children and people who drink do speak the truth…” Connie teased. She patted Steve’s thigh. “Come one honey, I need your help in the kitchen.” Steve leaned in, kissing Connie on the cheek as he helped her up and they went to the kitchen.

“You are really selling this, Hermosa. Might think that you have thought about it before.”

“Well you were very affectionate when I brought you home that night,” she turned around to face him. Somehow they had gotten closer and closer over the evening. She was leaning against his shoulder, his arm around her waist, his fingers brushing over her thigh. He had noticed the goosebumps on her arms everytime he got closer.

“I didn’t do anything more….”

“Inappropriate than this?” she gestured around with a smile. “No. No you didn’t.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled softly at her. He felt himself grow warm at the look in her eyes. Fuck. No. No. No. No. He reached to brush a stray of hair behind her ear and she smiled back at him. She shuddered when she felt his fingers brush over her cheek. Javier was a really beautiful man the longer she looked at him. There was a dimple on his cheek when he smiled at her. It was kinda cute. The thought that she wanted to kiss it crossed her mind. What? Kissing? Javier?

“Don’t break my fingers…” he whispered as he leaned in. He stopped inches from her lips and she gulped, breathing deeply before she softly pressed her lips on his. It was like she was hot and cold at the same time as their lips met and Javi sighed. He pulled her closer, his lips moving over hers.

A cough let them part from another and they both looked up at Steve who was holding a tray of what looked like a chocolate mousse with a teasing grin on his lips.

“Not. A word,” Javier hissed at him, making Steve chuckle, while Mary tried to control her breathing. Shit, she wanted more. More of Javi. More of his lips, his hands, his….

Javi grabbed her hand and she looked at him as he mouthed the word later before Connie walked in.

They said their goodbyes an hour later, waving at the Murphy’s.

“Be safe kids,” Steve called after them and Javi, again, gave him the finger while his other hand held Mary’s. When they were standing in front of Javi’s apartment they both sighed.

“Well this was certainly very interesting,” Mary had a small smile on her lips.

“Yeah. You could say that,” Javi said.

“You think she bought it?”

“Oh definitely. You… you were perfect.”

They stood in front of each other, both not really wanting to leave.

“So…” Mary said, sucking her bottom lip in. She looked into his eyes, only quickly to his lips and she caught him doing the same.

“I should get home….” she whispered. Javi nodded.

“I’ll drive you,” he said. She nodded but didn’t move.

“Or..”

“Or?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Or you could kiss me again,” she smiled and Javi sighed relieved before his arms pulled her close and his lips crashed down on hers.

[angelguk]

this prompt: jock!jaykay and namjoon running into each other at a party or sth and namjoon being like ‘you finally grow a pair and ask oc out yet?’ and jks just like 😧 and joons like ‘seriously dude? 😑 i’ve been waiting for you to ask her out since before i even dated her’. but make it more angst!!! namjoon is kind of an asshole here. there’s smoking, drinking and jk getting a brief lapdance. oc is a LIAR. jaykay deep in his feels tbh. roughly 1.5k. listen to all i wanted by paramore

Jeongguk's crossed too many paths with people during his life to remember every face his eyes have ever seen. But there’s one he will never forget, no matter how hard he tries to scrub the memory from his brain, ignore the muted forlorn twang in his heart, the low ache that ebbs from the base of his skull. It sparks up again despite years of never seeing the individual who caused the problem. How could he forget those broad shoulders? The sharp analytic eyes. The man whom you’d attached yourself too for a good chunk of your joint high school careers. It surprises him, honestly, because Jeongguk’s got a girl grinding on his lap but his eyes are locked on Namjoon, ears trailing after the sound of his deep laugh instead of the sweet nothings Nayeon (or Naeun, or Nayoung — he can’t fucking remember) is murmuring into the hollow of his neck.

For one, he’s fucked out of his mind. Taehyung probably laced the joint; he liked doing that shit even when it messed up Jeongguk’s trip. He should have known not to take a hit, but he was already ten shots in and nothing sounded better than smoke in his lungs. Maybe not nothing. This girl feels good in his hands, responds to the lightest of his touches, moans in his ear like she wants him to fuck her.

He could. He has before. Probably. She knows exactly where to nip his neck for this to have not been a repeat hook-up. But in the haze of the low living room lights and the spinning headiness of the drinks he’d downed, he couldn’t make out her face. It’d shift and twist and turn into an image that almost makes him want to cry because, at some angles, when the shadows form right, he thinks he can see your face. It could be you in his lap, you whimpering whenever your crotches aligned just right, you clinging to him like the sun hangs onto the evening sky.

But it’s not.

And for some unfathomable reason, Jeongguk’s ruined mind recognises that sucks.

Because it should be you.

He doesn’t know how he gets that girl off. Probably some lie that he needed to pee. In reality, he needed to breathe, because those thoughts surface with malicious intent, purposefully drawing him closer to deep dangerous waters. If he’s not careful he could easily drown, suffocated by desires he can’t even string together into a comprehensible sentence.

The night air hits sharp, seeping through his loose shirt. It grounds him enough for his steps to stabilise, feet following a slow trudge to the edge of the balcony. He doesn’t even know whose house this is. Somebody he’s probably never met honestly. But he wanted you to come. Everyone was coming out tonight. Even your elusive roommate Sohee was somewhere in some bathroom with a head between her thighs. You probably are doing that too, to be far. Even the name evokes bile from his throat, bitter and violent, full of jealousy he’d never really learnt to contain.

Lee Eunwoo. A graphic design major. Slightly taller than Jeongguk (only when Jeongguk is having a bad day) and somehow he can make you giggle like he’s getting paid for it.

You’d mentioned it so softly that Jeongguk didn’t even hear it at first. But then your cheeks had heated up, that stupid sparkle melting through your gaze. You wanted to spend the night with him, take advantage of an empty apartment, perhaps watch a movie or two.

It's obvious that you were going to sleep with him. The thought itself irked something visceral inside of Jeongguk. But he’d given you an easy smile, laughed at the modesty of your demeanour and wished you well with a tight hug. The same low buzzing of frustration that he got when you were with Namjoon was already waning through his system as he completed his sets at the gym with more force than needed.

Which is why he can’t help but release a bitter laugh into the night. Ironically, Namjoon was here while you were getting your back blown out by another idiotic guy Jeongguk did not like.

“What’s so funny?”

He can’t spin around to face him, Jeongguk knows he’ll throw up if he does. But he can’t forget a timbre like that. Not when you nearly wrote a poem about how wonderful Kim Namjoon’s voice was. A poem which you recited to Jeongguk before he begged you to rip it to shreds and never talk about again.

(Subconsciously Jeongguk had adopted a deeper voice whenever he talked to you since then. It came out more when he was drunk, but it’s not like you paid any attention anyway).

“Nothing,” he returns. He hopes Namjoon gets the hint and goes away. The bastard joins him on the balcony instead.

“No, seriously, what’s funny? You look like you’ve got a lot going on in your head.” Namjoon was always so concerned in talking about emotions and putting your feelings into words. It’s one of the reasons why you loved him and probably reason one thousand why Jeongguk hated him.

“Hello to you too, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you think we should catch up on the pleasantries before you start psychoanalysing me?” He retorts, forcing his gaze onto the other man. Namjoon looks good; golden skin, broad shoulders and his hair cropped short. There’s an ease to him that Jeongguk could never replicate no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re born sure of yourself. Like Namjoon was.

The laugh he receives is empty. Namjoon is busy rifling through his pockets, fingers emerging with a joint and a lighter. “Nice to see you too, Jeon. Didn’t think I’d ever bump into you after high school but the universe works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” The jay slips between his lips, followed by a swift flick of the lighter before a deep inhale that Jeongguk swears he feels in his lungs. The smoke floats out pretty, fading into wisps of nothing but grey as the breeze sweeps it away. Namjoon offers it cordially, a simple raise of his defined eyebrows and even though Jeongguk’s legs are melting through the floor he can’t say no.

“You sure?” The doubt tinting his tone makes him take it. His overestimation in his maintenance capabilities leads to a rather rough inhale, and an even worse hacking cough that he wants to be mortified at because Namjoon fucking laughs. But he can’t when the world feels like air in his fingertips, slowly slipping away. Almost like you feel at times. 

“You should stop taking the shit Taehyung rolls. I don’t even know what he slips in there but last time I smoked with him I thought I was on Mars.”

“Taehyung offers, I never ask.”

“You never ask for anything to be frank.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Namjoon returns, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yeah, I fucking did. I was giving you the chance to pretend you didn’t say it.” Jeongguk’s all in his space in an instant, the itch to smash Namjoon’s face tingling beneath his skin. Namjoon doesn’t even back up, gracing Jeongguk with a quizzical look that leaves him bewildered. “You don’t fucking know me—"

“I do.” There’s a scoff that riles him up even further. Namjoon’s still incredibly unbothered as he talks. “You think being Y/N’s boyfriend I didn’t hear everything and anything about you? Jeongguk this! Jeongguk that! You know that’s the reason we broke up, right?”

That halts him, a lag in his brain as he attempts to process the words leaving Namjoon’s mouth. The older man just stares at him, the sigh that drifts in between them bordering on pity.

“She didn’t tell you that, did she? Y/N lies about a lot more things than you think, Jeon. Where is she by the way? I’ve seen all her friends but I haven’t seen her.”

“Why would you know her friends?” It’s a stupid question but in the jumble of his thoughts it’s the only thing his mind is capable of plucking out. A question that doesn’t leave him bare and vulnerable like the other one’s racing through his head.

“We don’t have each other blocked on everything. Sometimes we talk,” Namjoon supplies easily. And just like that Jeongguk crumbles. He’s not even aware of it but the first crack spears deep enough to leave the rest of him unstable, wavering as he falters away from Namjoon. You never told him any of this. As far as Jeongguk knew you ended the relationship hating him (a thought that briefly consoled Jeongguk if he’s being truthful). But apparently, you felt comfortable enough to share your life with the person Jeongguk thought hurt you the most.

“Man, fuck you.” It’s a release, to say it. Because honestly fuck Kim Namjoon. In the span of a few short sentences he’s tipped everything he’s ever been sure of upside-down, stomped on Jeongguk’s heart like it was bendable and ducked his head right into the ocean he was afraid of diving it, keeping it under until the water filled his lungs and Jeongguk ceased to function.

Namjoon shrugs, not even looking as Jeongguk stumbles back to the door. He needs to find you, ask how much of Namjoon’s words were true. He doesn’t care if Eunwoo is over he’ll kick him out if need be.

But then Namjoon opens his mouth one more time, the final nail in the coffin.

“You should have asked her out. I was waiting for you to it — she was probably waiting too.”

[xxreader-writerxx]

Already Won

Word count: 2.1k

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Cursing, angsty, Cheating Mentioned, Blood Mentioned, Knife Kink Mentioned, Reader nearly cuts finger off, Panic Attack-ish (Fred), Poor Plot, Snogging at the end, and Abandonment Issues

A/n: This isn't amazing it was just to kick my arse into writing again lol, fighting writers block atm

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House

I'm cutting vegetables in the kitchen for dinner when I hear the door unlock. I smile to myself and grab the coffee I made, reheating it with a quick spell. "Baby! Did you get the creamer while you were out?" I ask, turning the corner. "I was supposed to?" I hear a different voice than what I was expecting respond. "Oh its you." I say plainly, annoyed by the sight of my ex boyfriend Draco. "Hey darling. I missed you." He says, walking to try to give me a hug but I push him away disgusted. "Didn't I dump you like what five months ago? After you cheated on me with Pansy?" I ask, turning to go into the kitchen. "Your still on that? I'm back so everything can go back to normal!" He says and I scoff. "Nope." I say when I hear the door open.

"Baby, the witch down the street ran out of creamer but, I got coffees down the street. Then I dropped them on myself trying to get inside." I hear Fred ramble. I walk out chuckling and see him stripping as he walks into our room. "The coffee burns." He says, still distracted by getting clean clothes on. I walk over with Draco tailing behind me. "Honey, someone's here." I tell him and he whips his head around, grabbing his shirt to cover himself. "Shit. Sorry sorry.... Not sorry what the hell is he doing here?" He asks, seeing Draco. "Figuring it out myself- Oh my god Freddie, how hot were those coffees?!" I ask, seeing a burn mark forming on his shoulder.

"I wanted them to be hot enough to make it home." He says sheepishly. I walk over, grabbing the burn medication I conjured after discovering having Fred Weasley as a boyfriend means a lot of burns to heal. I pull down the sleeve and rub the ointment on. "Ow..." He moans and I nod sadly.

When I finish I put a bandage on him and take his hand. I bring him to the fridge and grab a lolly. "Suck on this while it heals, it'll cool your body." I say and he winks, placing the lolly on his tongue. "While I suck on this why don't you- Why are you still here." He says, breaking his flirty behavior to look at Draco who is glaring at Fred. "Name's on the lease." He says with a smirk. "You're kidding. He's kidding." He says looking at me upset. I freeze trying to think of a solution when I finally sigh. "He's right..." I say, I shove my face in his chest and he glares at Draco angrily. "You are going to leave." He says through gritted teeth. "Where would I go huh?" He asks, still cocky. "Do I give a shit? No. Now your things are in the hall closet, take those bags and leave." He repeats, keeping me against him.

"I don't remember your name on the lease." He says with a smirk and Fred nods. "Yeah but I have my initials on-" He says as he start to raise my shirt trying to reveal the initials he cut during an exciting night two days ago. I slap his hand and he looks at me cheekily. "Anyways, I guess you can stay in the guest room and I'll go unpack." He says and I grab his jacket before he can leave the kitchen. "Fix it." I say sternly and he groans. "I'll stay in the guest room." He mumbles and I nod promptly.

***

I wake up next to Fred and look for whatever woke me. I get up realizing its 5:37 and shake Fred softly. "Baby we need to get ready for work. I'll go make breakfast." I whisper and he nods into the pillow, golden ginger hair surrounding his freckled face softly. "Baby, if we told George what happened he'd understand, let's sleep in." He offers and I sigh. "If I had another owner to take care of my shop then I would jump in your arms but..." I say and he groans nodding.

I make my way into the kitchen to make us omelets when a figure makes me jump. "Fuck." I mutter as Draco takes a sip of his coffee. "Honey?" I hear from behind me and I turn to see Fred fiddling with his tie. I walk over smiling to myself at his loose tie and messy hair. "Stupid Blood Traitor can't even tie his own tie." I hear Malfoy mumble as I tied Fred's tie, getting angry I nearly behead Fred on accident but he stops me with a soft hold on my hips. "Here's the thing, Malfoy, I'm doing this... To do this." Fred says smirking pulling me in for his signature kiss. I sigh into the kiss almost forgetting about my troubles until they cough to signify they're still there.

"I'll make our breakfast, you work on tea?" I ask and he salutes cutely. I start chopping up onions when I feel myself get enveloped in a hug, Fred's face snug in my neck. His lips threateningly close to my neck, butterfly kisses every now and then. "What are you up to?" I giggle as his hands tickle my sides. "I just love you..." He whispers and I smile. "I love you more." I whisper and he kisses my cheek. "I'll cook the omelet, you go watch your program. It's on." He whispers and I turn, placing my hands on the counter behind me. "I can take care of the food. Don't worry about me." I whisper back and he kisses my lips softly. "Please? When else will your show be on this early?" He asks and I smile. "If you insist. But at least let me cut the peppers." I say and he nods.

***

I'm cutting dough in my café when I hear the door open. I smile warmly, keeping my eyes to the counter. "Hello! I'll be with you in a moment." I say when someone pushes my chin up softly. "Hey darling." Draco says and I groan. "Malfoy, I'm not your darling anymore. I'm dating Fred." I state, my entire body growing warm with anger. "I know, I know... But I wanted to try and win you back." He states, holding up a gold necklace. "You think I can be bought?" I ask, seething with anger. His face looses color as he shakes his head. "N-no! I meant this as a sorry-" He begins but I slam my knife down. "Get out."

I walk into the twin's shop, unusually tired, I see George and walk over lazily. "Hey- What the hell!?" He asks and he grabs my arm, tugging me to Fred's office. "Where are we going?" I ask lazily. "FRED." He yells banging on the door. Fred opens the door angrily but the anger turns to worry when he lays his eyes on me, or to be specific my finger. I cut it, deep. "Oh look at that..." I say and he scoops me up. "Oh god oh god..." He mumbles as I lay my head on his shoulder. "You smell nice." I whisper and he shakes his head. "What the hell happened?" He asks and I frown. "Draco came to my shop and gave me this." I say and I show him the necklace and he looks at it upset as he buckles me into the car. "You've lost a lot of blood..." He whispers, tearing up a bit. "I'm fineeee." I tell him and he kisses my forehead softly. "Just stay awake..." He whispers and I nod softly.

I wake up in a hospital bed and Fred is holding my hand. "Baby?" I ask roughly, my throat burning from sleep. "Thank god." He exclaims, holding me close to his chest. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?! You don't understand how happy I am to see your eyes open." He tells me, clutching my shirt tightly.

***

Ever since the accident Fred kicked Malfoy out and I got someone to take over the shop while I heal. Fred's been clingy since because he says he nearly lost me and every time I remind him it was only a bit of blood loss but he always responds with "same thing". Malfoy has been sending flowers, expensive gifts, and baskets each with a note begging me to take him back. I laugh at every package because they come from Pansy's apartment. Now its two months later both me and Fred going strong, and Malfoy hasn't given up.

I walk into the house back from groceries with Fred nowhere to be found. I hear shaky breathing from our room. I walk in and see Fred in the corner crying silently. "Freddie?" I ask and he hides his face in his arms. "I'll be out in a minute." He whispers and I sit next to him on the floor. "What's wrong?" I ask and he cries again. "Nothing, don't worry about it." He whispers and I tug his hand to wrap around it. "Tell me..." I whisper back and place my free hand on his cheek. He leans into my hand, closing his eyes happily. "I love you..." I tell him and he sighs. "I'm sorry." He tells me and I furrow my eyebrows.

"Did you break something?" I ask and he laughs, wiping his nose. "No... I'm sorry I can't provide for you." He tells me and I finally am able to sit on his lap, his hands resting on my hips as he places his forehead in the crane of my neck. "What?" I ask and he digs his head further. "Malfoy gets you all these fancy gifts and I know I'm not enough. I don't have diamond necklaces, my flowers are always picked, and he has so much to offer... And I'm here being the idiot who has a joke shop instead of a stable job. Its a matter of time before he finally wins you back and I would understand, who'd want me over Malfoy..." He cries into my neck and I run my hands through his hair softly.

"No... Baby I don't care about jewels or money. I love your flowers, how you tell me why each one reminded you of me... I love you Freddie.... I could never be won by Malfoy wanna know why?" I coo into his ear softly. "Why?" He asks, looking up at me with his soft hazel eyes. "Because you've already won. A million times, you've won. When we became best friends at 8, when I saw you on the bus, when you left school, when you moved in with me after my break-up, not letting me ignore help by saying you needed a place to stay because George and Angelina were moving in when we both knew you could live at the burrow... Every day you have won me. How can I prove that?" I ask and he smiles sweetly. "You just did... I love you so so much." He whispers and I smile, kissing his nose.

I hear the doorbell ring and he looks towards the door upset. I groan getting up and open the door. Draco is there crying holding flowers. "Please." He whispers and I go to slam the door but he stops me. "I know I don't deserve it but please give me another chance. Weaslebee could never care for you, not like I can. So please take me back." He says and I get angered by those words. I grab his collar and shove him back. "Do not talk of Fred that way." I say and he scoffs. "You know he won't. I have money we can land on, he doesn't. So cut the bullshit and take me back." He spits and I punch him right in the nose. "Leave. And I don't mean my door, I mean my life Malfoy." I tell him as he doubles over, flicking him off.

I walk back into my house and find Fred smiling at me, eyes still puffy but I couldn't care less, he's beautiful. "I love-" Is all he can say before I grab his collar, pulling him into a long kiss. He leans into it after recovering from the shock. I wrap my arms around his neck as he pulls me to wrap my legs around his torso. He sits on the couch, pulling me flush against his body. "I love you so much..." He mumbles as we take a second to get air. "I love you more." I say, diving to attach my lips to his. He pulls away after a while and smiles, moving hair from my face softly. I smile back, a giggle escaping my lips. "What?" I ask and he kisses me softly. "I guess I did win." He whispers and I kiss him again.

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact | distraction

pairing: jinyoung x reader (the pact universe)

word count: 2.5k lol what this was supposed to be a drabble

summary: while your toddler naps, jinyoung finds a way to make the most of your time alone together. 

warnings: sex, domestic af, jinyoung is a great dad and is 110% whipped for his kid and his wife!! this is also NOT edited in the slightest

“She can’t hear us,” Jinyoung said, his nose nudging your earlobe and making you shiver. 

You sighed as your hands traveled along Jinyoung’s back, head battling vagina over the probability of your eighteen month old daughter hearing you and waking from her nap. The baby monitor sitting on the kitchen island was practically taunting you, reminding you that Seohyun could begin crying at any moment.

“But what if she-” 

Any words you could have used to finish that sentence were immediately erased from your brain as Jinyoung pulled you to the edge of the counter, his bulge pressing into your core. 

Your sex life had gone down drastically in frequency just like everybody had warned you, but it didn’t make you want him any less. It was just near impossible to find the time between work, Seohyun, and keeping up with the never-ending errands of life. 

By the time the two of you made it to bed most nights, neither of you had the energy.

But today, Seohyun had gone down for her afternoon nap easier than normal. And it was Saturday, so neither of you had to work. It only made sense that the moment you’d turned around to tackle the dishes in the sink, Jinyoung had pulled his best moves on you. 

He’d wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, sliding your hair off your shoulder with his free hand where he placed soft but purposeful kisses along your skin. Immediately, you’d shivered and become putty in his hands. 

“You look so sexy in this dress, baby,” he whispered, his nose brushing against the most sensitive part of your neck. “All morning I’ve been staring at your legs, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

You hadn’t meant to look sexy—it was just that one piece of fabric was easier to throw on than attempting to find two clean, unwrinkled items of clothing to put on. And it wasn’t a seductive, curve-hugging dress anyway, just your most comfortable, trusty black spaghetti strap dress. 

Then you’d found yourself turned around and lifted onto the counter, dishes in the sink long forgotten as your husband sucked a hickey into your skin. In your head, you did some quick math to figure out just how long you’d have until Seohyun woke up and brought you back to reality. 

“Stop thinking,” Jinyoung told you with a press of his lips into your jawline. 

You sighed and rested your hands on his shoulders. “I’m trying.” 

“I’ll just have to work harder to distract you then, hm?” Jinyoung whispered as his hands trailed a path up and down your thighs, his fingers slipping further up the hem of your dress with each stroke upwards.

Jinyoung was dangerous when he knew what he wanted. 

He pulled your body even closer to the edge of the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. Stealing your lips in a kiss, you both moaned as soon as Jinyoung began rocking his hips into yours teasingly.

One of your hands slipped into Jinyoung’s hair, gripping the soft strands still damp from his earlier shower he’d been forced to take after breakfast.

Seohyun hadn’t been a fan of the organic cereal Jinyoung had tried to give her, and he’d ended up with a half-chewed mouthful of her breakfast all over his face and shirt. Even though it’d been an accident and shouldn’t have been funny, you’d had to turn away and cover your mouth to keep from giggling. 

As always, Jinyoung had taken it in stride and simply wiped his face and shirt off before grabbing one of the probiotic yogurts that Seohyun did like from the fridge. Not without sending you a fake glare when he noticed your red face from holding in your laughter. 

When you started giggling again now at the memory, just as Jinyoung began peppering kisses across your collarbone, he tilted his head up to make eye contact with you.

“What’s so funny?” 

You bit your lip, sliding your fingers through his hair and twirling a strand around your finger. 

“Just thinking about this morning when our daughter projectile coughed your nasty healthy cereal into your face,” you told him. 

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed at you as he pulled back, standing straight in front of you again. “Projectile coughing isn’t a thing.” 

You snorted. “Tell that to Seohyun. God, you should’ve seen your expression. I wish I’d had my phone to record the whole thing.” 

“You drive me nuts,” he told you, chuckling softly as his hands traveled further up your dress until he’d found the elastic of your underwear. “Just trying to be a good dad. Give our kid some nutrients to balance out the jellies and Goldfish that you sneak her when you think I’m not looking.” 

You lifted your hips as Jinyoung tugged your panties down your legs and off, smiling down at him when he dropped to his knees in front of you. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Liar,” he said with a laugh as he ducked his head down, placing a kiss to the inside of your leg, just above your knee. 

No matter how many times Jinyoung spoiled you like this, it would always make you sigh and shiver just the same. He was now an expert in the art of teasing and building up your pleasure until finally giving you what you both craved most. 

“But you love me,” you told him, tilting your head back to rest against the cabinet behind you as your eyes fell shut. 

Jinyoung hummed against your skin as he traveled further up your legs, kissing nearly every inch of your skin until he’d finally reached the apex of your thighs. 

“Mmhm, I do,” he said, just before leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your mound. Then lower, until his lips brushed your clit and made you jerk your hips up, desperate to feel more. 

Luckily, Jinyoung at least seemed to understand you had a time limit. Seohyun was a good sleeper but she was known for waking up from her naps refreshed after only forty-five minutes or less. It was the or less that you were concerned about. 

As soon as Jinyoung sucked your clit between his lips, you found yourself arching towards him, one hand grasping the counter edge while the other found purchase in the hair at the top of his head. 

“Oh, oh,” you whined, while Jinyoung delved deeper and lower, now working what you could only call magic between your legs. When he slipped two fingers inside to join his tongue on your clit, your toes curled and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to contain your moan. 

Honestly, you could barely register what exactly Jinyoung was doing after another few moments, your whole body was now on fire and more sensitive than ever after not having him touch you like this in weeks. 

“Baby, I-” you started, one hand still in his hair and now pressing him closer, “I can’t... I want...” 

But Jinyoung didn’t let up or stop. He wanted your release and he wouldn’t stop until the moment his mouth and fingers took you over the edge. 

His free hand came to steady your hips, lying his forearm across your stomach to keep you from writhing too wildly on the counter, while his other hand moved faster and faster inside of you. 

“Shhh-shit, fuck, Nyoung, please God-” 

Absolute nonsense fell from your lips as you drew closer to your climax and warmth began to spread from your belly all the way through your body to your fingertips. 

Finally the tension snapped and you arched forward this time, Jinyoung’s strong arm over your hips the only thing keeping you from sliding off. You fisted his hair, probably enough to hurt, your other hand back over your mouth to muffle your screams. 

Jinyoung didn’t slow down until he knew you’d had too much. Slowly, he backed off, fingers coming to a stop inside of you before slipping out. He sat back on his knees and adjusted his grip on you so that you could gently and safely get your feet back on the ground. 

“Holy mother of-” you managed, leaning back against the counter as Jinyoung stood back up in front of you with a pleased grin on his face. “You are way too good at that.” 

Jinyoung laughed, slipping his arms around your waist in a gentle embrace, quite the contrast from the way he’d just absolutely wrecked you without even taking his pants off. 

“Hmm, I think you might be a little biased, being my wife and all.” 

“If I hadn’t seen you the first time you had to change a diaper, I might think you weren’t bad at anything,” you teased.

Jinyoung’s mouth opened to defend himself but you were quicker, slipping one hand down into the loose grey sweatpants he was wearing to wrap around his length. 

He sucked in a harsh inhale and closed his eyes, his arms wrapping tighter around you to bring you closer. You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek before whispering into his ear. 

“Now, can we make the most of whatever time we have left until our toddler is back to demanding our undivided attention?” 

You could sense Jinyoung’s smirk as he turned his head, brushing his lips against your throat before he responded, “You don’t have to convince me.” 

Only a few moments passed before you found yourself bent over the island, your dress hiked up over your ass and Jinyoung behind you, pushing his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock. 

You pressed your cheek against the cold countertop, your eyes on Jinyoung the best they could be from this angle. Biting your lip, you watched as he gripped his length, giving it a few strokes before he was lining up with your entrance. 

Both of you exhaled the moment he slid inside, a slow movement that allowed you to feel every single inch of him as your bodies became one. You wouldn’t ever get tired of this feeling. 

You reminded yourself that you needed to be as quiet as possible, considering Seohyun seemed to superhuman hearing and it didn’t usually take much to rouse her from sleep. 

But you couldn’t help the soft whine that fell from your lips the moment Jinyoung started to rock his hips back and forth in a perfect rhythm, his hands bunching up the material of your dress at your lower back. 

“Nyoungie,” you whispered, though it was more of a plea for him to move faster or harder, or do something. He was making you insane already, your body still sensitive from the incredible orgasm he’d given you just a few minutes ago. 

At the sweet pet name, Jinyoung groaned deep in his throat, squeezing the fabric in his fists even tighter as he picked up his pace. You watched as he tilted his head back in bliss and bit his lip, probably to contain his own moans of pleasure. 

It didn’t take much time at all for Jinyoung to start pounding inside of you just the way you’d wanted, the sound of skin-on-skin now filling the room. Even though it was dangerous to make so much noise, you weren’t about to ask him to stop.

You reached one hand behind your back until you found one of his arms. Grasping it firmly, you squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed back all of the noises you so desperately wanted to make to encourage him. 

Jinyoung leaned his head forward again, bending over you slightly as he let go with his other hand, choosing instead to nestle it between your thighs and circle your clit with his fingers. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, knowing that he was planning on bringing you to another orgasm before he found his release. “Baby, I don’t think I can... oh, my god.” 

Squeezing his arm even tighter, you gasped as he moved his fingers faster to match the brutal pace of his hips. He kissed across your shoulder blade, a mixture of dirty and affectionate words falling from his lips to your skin. 

“God, I love you so much. You feel so fucking good, so wet and tight, you’re so beautiful, baby.” 

The waves of pleasure started to crest for the second time that afternoon as Jinyoung worked his fingers in tighter circles, changing the angle of his hips ever so slightly to hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. 

Jinyoung soon let go of your dress completely as he bent over your body, hand feeling around blindly for your free one so that he could intertwine your fingers as he pumped inside of you. 

“Let go for me angel, come on, want us to come together,” he whispered, burying his face into the crook of your neck and nipping at your skin. 

It took all of your willpower not to scream just then as soon as your orgasm hit, your knees shaking as the intense pulses of your climax threatened to make your legs give out entirely. But Jinyoung was there, his body supporting yours as he reached his own end, emptying inside of you with a gravelly moan against your neck. 

His hips slowed, giving you a few more shallow thrusts before he finally slipped out of you, though he didn’t peel his body from yours for another minute. You smiled softly to yourself as you listened to his breathing gradually return back to normal, his heartbeat racing against your skin through his white tee. 

When he finally pulled away, Jinyoung helped you to stand up once more, turning you around to face him. He chuckled as he pushed your hair from your face after it had stuck to your skin from the thin layer of sweat across your forehead. 

“I love you, you know?” Jinyoung said, leaning close to nudge his nose against yours. 

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and tugging his sweatpants back up to his hips. “I love you too.” 

With the most perfect timing ever, there was suddenly a whimper from the speaker of the baby monitor, one that was shortly followed by a loud cry. You sighed and pressed your hands to Jinyoung’s chest, about to gently push him away so you could tend to Seohyun. 

“Hey, I got it. Go hop in the shower. Do one of your face masks too, or take a bath. I’ll hang out with little bear.” 

Your lips formed into a pout because yes, Jinyoung was a great husband, but he was an even more amazing father. And you could use some time to yourself. Especially a shower, considering you were a tad sticky after the quickie you’d just had. 

“Stop being so perfect, you’re making me look bad,” you told him, leaning in to press a few short kisses to his lips. “Love you. Thanks for the orgasms.” 

Jinyoung could only shake his head as he laughed at you, watching as you walked off towards the bathroom. He flipped off the switch to the baby monitor and headed off to Seohyun’s room, wondering just how he managed to get the two best girls in the world in his life. 

[sockablock]

(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)

— — —

The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.

To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.

Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!

Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.

Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.

"Should I get my staff?"

Yasha shrugs. She usually does.

"I'll grab it. Down in five."

Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.

Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.

Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.

“We do not have to—” 

She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”

Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.

“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”

Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”

This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.

Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.

Beau wants to win.

She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.

Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—

The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—

Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—

Halts.

It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.

Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.

“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”

Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.

“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”

She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—

But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down. 

“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”

A frantic shake.

“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows. 

There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.

“I’m...okay. I am okay.”

Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”

“I’m so—”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.

“Er...what?”

She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”

She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.

Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.

“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:

“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”

“What? Oh—” 

“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”

“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”

She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?

She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”

She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say. 

But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”

Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”

“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”

“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”

She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.

“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”

“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.” 

Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.

“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”

This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.

She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.

“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”

Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.

“I...do, yes, I remember that.”

“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”

Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.

“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”

“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”

She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.

“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”

Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.

Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—

“I am, aren’t I?”

Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.

It’s getting to be familiar.

Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”

She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”

Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”

“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”

“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”

Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.

“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.

“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”

“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”

Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again. 

“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”

She stands up, and sticks out a hand. 

Yasha takes it.

“Okay. I like juice.”

— — — 

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[scpeen-l0l]

Hi! I was wondering if your could do a scp-035 x scientist!reader fix where the they’re in the middle an interview, and a containment breach suddenly happens

ahhh, i’m not entirely sure if this is what you had in mind. but anyways, thank you so much for requesting!! you’re the first on this blog and while writing this i got another! man i’m so happy ahah

(i forgot to tag this when it was first posted lol)

---

1.5k words

‘easy prey’

You’ve always had mixed feelings on 035. Since the very first day you were assigned to them, you felt their infamous ‘lure’ that they were known to have. Despite that, you liked to think of yourself as resilient, so you were able to just bury yourself in work and deny any sort of weird attraction you had to the mask. Of course, 035 had picked up on the behavior that they had seen countless times in the past, much to your dismay.

Your supervisor told you that you would be interviewing 035 with the routine set of questions in a few days’ time. When you queried as politely as possible to why you were assigned to interview them this time over the usual interviewer, your supervisor handed you a page of the transcript of their most recent interview, with a section highlighted in yellow.

 //PAGE 2//

08/08/██

SCP#: SCP-035

Class: Keter

Interviewer: Warren, [REDACTED] (Sr. Researcher)

  SCP-035: Mhm… Hey, what are the odds of that new researcher coming into my cell anytime soon?

[Dr. Warren pauses for a moment, before looking at their host’s hands.]

Warren: Which one? Dr. L/n or Dr. Ahmad?

SCP-035: The younger one. Yes, I’d like to have a chat.

Warren: Why?

[SCP-035 throws its head back before resting its chin on its intertwined hands.]

SCP-035: Since when have you started recruiting people that young? I simply want to ask them about it.

Warren: Stop it, 035. Be more specific.

[SCP-035 lets out an exaggerated sigh]

SCP-035: Why can’t a mask just have a regular talk with a researcher? All I want is a friendly chat! Besides, you’d get some free time whilst we’re busy…

Warren: If we do allow you to converse, you will only be allowed 30 minutes maximum with routine questions.

[SCP-035 laughs]

SCP-035: That’d be grand. Well, what’s on your mind today?

  Your heart was beating out of your chest, fear coursing through your body. Your supervisor coughed to get your attention, to which you could only nod your head slowly to, it wasn’t like you really had a choice. Still, what did it want from you?

You didn’t get much sleep that night, to say the least.

 When the fabled day finally arrived, you were an absolute wreck. All of your confidence flew out the window and left you with sweaty palms and a looming feeling of dread. The walk to the mask’s cell was long and unnerving, the adrenaline was putting you on edge. You weren’t usually like this, but your fears got the best of you. What if they convinced you to wear them? What then? Regardless, you’d be dead either way. You cursed yourself for being a nervous wreck at the worst time, so you headed to the closest empty room you could find.

You found yourself in a break room after a few minutes of searching, the missioning around the facility already clearing out your mind. You rubbed your temples, psyching yourself up. If you did eventually become a host for the mask, you sure as hell weren’t going to make it easy. With a small pep in your step, you finally approached the area containing 035.

Warren was talking with your supervisor, just about to leave when he saw you walk in. A forced smile made its way to his face as he approached you.

“Pleasure formally meeting you, L/n.”

“Same here. Do you have a spare copy- “

Warren handed you a file, “here, make sure to stay on topic as much as possible. Oh, and the second you feel like putting him on or anything of the sort, press the panic button next to the microphone on the table.”

Him?

You nodded, reassured that you had a sure-fire way to get out. “Thanks. Do I… go in now?”

Warren turned to your supervisor, Dr. Patel, whom only nodded in response. Dry, as always. You sucked in a deep breath before checking your phone for the time, 9am on the dot. A good time to die, you thought, before a guard ushered you into 035’s cell. A male D-Class with 035 on his face looked to you and tilted his head.

You knew you didn’t look the most assertive, or dominant but you were resilient. That’s all you had going into that interview, you told yourself.

Sitting down and laying out the documents inside the file on the table, you looked back at the group of staff behind you. McAllistor, the technician, gave you a comforting smile; Warren was already out the door; Dr. Ahmad looked away awkwardly; Dr. Patel was typing away on his computer and you could see the side of a guard’s visor at the corner of the observation window. Huh, a little understaffed today. Were they the last people you’d ever see? Perhaps. Alas, you had a job to do, and you were going to do it damn well, if it was the last thing you ever did.

  //RECORDING STARTED//

L/n: Hello, 035. Ready to start?

SCP-035: Of course.

 Ooh, that voice- Did it always sound so… Smooth?

 L/n: Well, let’s get through these questions quickly.

SCP-035: Aw, I was hoping to get to know you a little better first.

L/n: Maybe another time. How would you describe your emotions today?

 Deflect, deflect.

 SCP-035: Admittedly, a little upset that you’re being so stiff with me. I rarely speak to anyone else other than [REDACTED], who’s gone off who-knows-where. Ooh, probably with his assistant- You wanna hear about that?

L/n: Uh, so you feel upset that you can’t speak with me-

 Shit. That threw you off.

SCP-035: Indeed, would you help me with that? Pretty please? You look like you need a break, you know. Look at those bags under your eyes!

 No, you weren’t going to let him get under your skin that easily.

 L/n: Apologies, 035, if my appearance is sub-par— However, I am incredibly committed to my job and I-

SCP-035: Blah, blah. Cut the canned crap. You can speak to me about it, you know, I’m a great listener.

L/n: I will be the one listening today, 035. Now-

SCP-035: You say-

L/n: 035! Stop speaking over me, unless you want this interview to be terminated?

 Assertive, dominant.

 SCP-035: Ah, of course not. I was out of line, I am sincerely sorry, dear.

L/n: It’s- It’s fine, where were we? Oh, here, I- Um…

 Nevermind. How did he manage to make you feel bad? Stupid mask, getting in your head…

 L/n: Uh, how would you describe your intentions as of late?

SCP-035: Nothing dangerous, I simply long for the stage, you know? I just miss the atmosphere! The joy! Oh, what I would do to even just watch another showing…

L/n: Thank you for not evading that question, 035. But, ah, I’m sure if you behave you’d get to-

//CONNECTION LOST//

  The breach alarms went off, making you jump out of your seat. Looking back to the observation window, you saw all the scientists being escorted out of the room by the guards. You rushed to the door…

Locked.

Slowly turning back to 035, you gave him the dirtiest glare that you could muster.

 “Unlock it. Now.”

“You know, I liked the more quiet, sweet, meek version of you-“

You mockingly mimicked his tone, “you know, I don’t give a shit. I’m not putting you on. You’ve already got a host, just leave me alone!”

“Oh, but you’re so intelligent, so innocent… Face it, you’re dead either way. There’s no way you’re making it out alive, I’ll be merciful and make it painless. Wear me, and I’ll ensure that your body gets some good mileage.”

 A small part of you was tempted to take his offer, but the rest of you was only willing to admit he was right. What chance did you have without an armed guard? You slouched, fear settling in.

“Come on…”

You felt a weight on your right shoulder. You could see his hand in the corner of your vision, but, it was cold. Long dead. You didn’t want that for yourself.

Aggressively sliding your keycard in the scanner, you bolted out the cell and grabbed the handgun on the desk.

 You let out a humourless laugh, “yeah, no. I think I’m fine.”

035 walked out his cell, scoffing as he looked at the gun in your hands, “what’s that gonna do? Is that peashooter gonna scare 106 away, huh? How many bullets are in that thing, if any?”

Biting your lip, you whined, “ahah, um, yeah… Look,” you debated internally whether you should try bargaining with this thing, “I’m not going to put you on, however, I’m willing to… cooperate in order for us to reach our separate goals. I have a level 3 keycard, which I can hand to you once I find the safety shelter. Try anything funny and I’m snapping the keycard in half.”

 035 laughed, “ok, maybe I was wrong about tough and cold L/n. Sure, we can work together, but good luck trying to resist me. I can tell you’re already a bit enchanted already!”

You snorted, “yeah, yeah. Suuuuure… Alright, you promise to keep me safe whilst I navigate through the site?”

“I assure you.”

 A part of you felt fuzzy. Damn, he was right about you already being charmed by him. Maybe… No, you weren’t going to give in. You’re using him as much as he’s using you. Right?

 “Guess I was wrong about you being an easy host.” He mumbled.

“You what?”

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 3 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first two chapters please~)

The next day flows by in a blur for Geralt. He wakes up, takes a shower, prepares a quick but nutritious breakfast for Ciri, and makes oatmeal for himself.

On his way to the hospital, he thinks about Jaskier and wonders if he should call him now. He almost does that, but then he decides against it because he knows that Jaskier is busy having his fourth dream right now probably. It's too early to call him as much as he wants to do so. 

His mind wanders on how cute Jaskier sounds when he is sleepy—when he has just woken up.

Cute, but also usually a bit grumpy even though he denies it with every inch of his being.

***

"That shouldn't be legal," is what Geralt thinks when he steps into the hospital room, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier's sleeping figure. "I can't believe I'm supposed to do that. God, have some mercy on me. I love my job, I really do, but it sucks big time sometimes. Why should I suffer this way?"

A moment later, he is well aware of how dramatic he is being, and how hard he frowns, making a source face. It's not like him to act like this at all.

Damn.

"That dramatic son of a flower must be rubbing off on me," annoyed at himself, he mumbles before he coughs as if that alone is enough to wake the musician up. 

"Good morning," he tries when Jaskier doesn't wake up and slightly turns to the other side of his bed instead.

"Mr. Pankratz, it's your medicine time."

Jaskier slightly opens his eyes just to look at him this time, and the first thing he mumbles is: "What happened to your ears?" before closing his eyes again. 

"What are you talking about?" The nurse questions, checking his ears with his free hand that isn't holding the medicine tray, wondering what he meant by that.

"Are you still asleep?"

"Yes... No. Maybe?" Jaskier mumbles again, half asleep as he rubs his eyes, trying to make sleepiness go away.

"You will have to pick one of them."

The musician opens his eyes after a while and smiles at Geralt.

"Morning. God, what a sight to wake up to."

Geralt must be used at this by now. Because whenever Geralt has to wake him up, no matter how much Jaskier complains at first most of the time, he always utters the same words eventually.

"What a sight to wake up to."

Yet, every time he does that, Geralt's heart flutters in his chest.

"You didn't sound too happy with my ears, though. What was that about?"

"Ah, about that. I had a dream that— promise you won't laugh?"

"Can't do."

"Anyway," Jaskier yawns and explains: "I had a dream that you were an... elf."

"I was a— what?" Geralt laughs.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!" The musician stares at him like he is ready to kill him. 

"I never said that," Geralt forces himself to stop laughing. "Well, that explains everything."

"Shh, stop interrupting me. It's mean."

"Sorry, I'm all ears. Not elf ears, though, sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't sweat it. Bad guys were trying to steal Mrs. Ansley's—who was a fairy, speaking of which—cookie recipe, which was also the key of a parallel universe, somehow. You were trying to protect the recipe, then puff. Some gingerbread men came out of nowhere to help you, but you tried to... eat them? Well, not just tried actually. You managed to eat their leader. Therefore they decided to join the dark side. Can't blame you, though. They looked pretty yummy. I was about to hop on my unicorn for help when you woke me up. A unicorn wearing a pasta costume. Pink pasta costume. Yeah, yeah, I know, that makes no sense, is there even a pink pasta costume?" He asks sleepily, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I had a magical lute, I think."

"You think that your whole dream makes sense, but just the pink pasta costume doesn't?"

"I've never seen a pink pasta costume, so..."

"Oh, sorry, right. I forgot you have seen everything else but that. The elf version of me, alive gingerbreads and all. My bad."

He chuckles at that lightly.

"Still more possible than a pink pasta costume."

"The most ridiculous dream you had this week might be this one so far."

Jaskier seemed to have taken it upon himself to tell Geralt about his dreams. This was the eighth dream he talked about this week, and it wasn't even Friday yet.

"It was like," he opens his arms wide as if he is presenting the name of his new song to the whole world, " 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland' I blame the medicines. And you," he points at the nurse. "I also blame you. For looking like... " he then gestures at everything, "this."

"You blame me?" The other man snorts, amused. "If anything, you should blame yourself for having the wrong dream. Have you ever looked at yourself? You would make a good elf, not me. You are as bea— I mean, anyway, medicine time."

"I am what now? Wait, wait, wait, were you about to call me beautiful?"

"I was about to call you bearable, but then I thought that would be mean."

"I think you were about to call me beautiful, but then you thought 'That wouldn't be professional, you are his nurse,' or something along these lines. Also, that's not even how you start when you're about to say 'bearable' they are not even pronounced the— "

"That's not what happened."

"Nahh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened, but eh, whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

"You're probably thinking you're still in 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland', go back to sleep, you're delusional."

"I am so not! And that would be your problem even if I was. Wanna check my fever?" He says, giving the nurse a once-over, "I feel hot, suddenly."

"Well, that explains why you're delusional, doesn't it?" Geralt teases. "Take your medicine and you will be just fine."

Jaskier sighs and does as he is told.

"Geralt," Jaskier says before Geralt is about to leave, a grin on his face "I think you are 'bearable', too. "

***

Geralt means to call Jaskier.

He really does.

Yet, whenever he is about to call him, something comes up, and eventually, he just accepts that he is going to have to wait for his shift to be over. 

For some reason, he doesn't want to call him and get interrupted after a minute.

And he doesn't want to send him a text, because he prefers hearing his angelic voice instead.

So, yeah. He is kind of stuck there for now.

***

Geralt finds Ciri laughing at her own joke as she watches The Office when he gets home, and this reminds him of Jaskier since that's something they both have in common. Once again, he finds himself thinking about the musician.

***

“Shit, it hurts,” Jaskier says, holding his chest.

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way to tell you to stop laughing at your own jokes.”

“Oh shut up, the universe can kiss my ass.”

“Seems like it prefers to kick your ass instead.”

That draws an annoyed laugh out of him, which makes him hiss in pain.

“It wouldn’t send me here if it was trying to kick my ass, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason.”

“I can't believe you still keep using that silly nickname unironically. Don’t you think that it is a bit long?”

“You may be right. Hmm, I’ll just call you ‘Mr. Handsome Nurse,’ from now on.”

“Please don’t. No.”

“How about just ‘Handsome’ ?”

“Still no.”

“Why not? It’s just a fact. You wouldn’t get mad at someone if they would point at a yellow wall and call it a ‘yellow wall’ would you?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I see no differences.”

“Then you better get your eyes checked.” 

“Speaking of which—” Jaskier reaches for his scratch book standing on the bedside table “can I borrow your eyes for a second?”

Geralt frowns, wondering what the musician is up to this time.

Jaskier opens his scratch book and stares in his eyes intently for a while and as he scribbles something. "Thanks," he says, "I just needed an accurate model of the stars."

"You know," the nurse shakes his head and answers smoothly: "you could just ask for a mirror."

Geralt can't help but smirk at his open-mouthed speechlessness. 

***

He hears a familiar voice singing, and for a moment he is sure that he has finally gone insane. 

Drying his hands on a washcloth, Geralt makes his way to the source of the voice, thinking "That must how Jerry feels when he follows the smell of a piece of cheese Tom tries to fool him with."

Jaskier's voice is irresistible to him, just like how cheese is irresistible to Jerry.

Absolutely irresistible, and hard to miss.

He could distinguish Jaskier's voice among all the rest if he heard it in a room filled with millions of men singing a song together.

This voice is coming from their living room. To be more specific, from Ciri's laptop—which she was supposed to use for searching her homework topic, but that can wait for now—

"Or I shall die," he hears Jaskier singing oh so sincerely and dramatically "or I shall die!"

"Dad! Please don't be mad, I swear to God I was going to start doing my homework, but—"

The first thing he does when he sits on the couch next to his daughter is grabbing the laptop and rewinding the video to the start. He then checks if the volume is at maximum.

"Shhh," he gestures, all of his attention is on the video he is watching.

He doesn't even realize that he takes a deep breath as soon as he sees the musician's face appear in front of him on the screen before Jaskier even starts singing.

He is as beautiful as ever in his ridiculous mint green shirt that he left the first four buttons undone.

It has cactus patterns on it.

Geralt can't help but wonder if Jaskier wearing this shirt is actually some kind of a secret message to him and him only.

Didn't he say that Geralt was just like a cactus?

"...prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

His words. Not Geralt's.

What does that even mean then? Something like "I wanna wear you on me like a shirt?"

Okay, he should probably stop because he is reading too much into this and—

"Anyway, so, this song goes to the cruel man who made me want to buy this shirt because it reminded me of him. You know who you are,"

Geralt's breath hitches.

He is not reading too much into this.

If anything, it's vice versa, because Jaskier dedicated a song to him.

Jaskier is thinking about him, too.

Thinking about him too much that he has decided he should dedicate a song to him.

The scene splits into five and one of the boxes on the screen shows Jaskier playing the piano, while in the other he plays the lute occasionally, violin in another one, and accordion in the other one. And in the other, he sings.

Good God. Is there anything this man cannot do?—Besides picking names for babies maybe, since picking names is definitely isn't his strong suit.—

"I tell myself what's done is done

I tell myself don't be a fool

Play the field have a lot of fun

It's easy when you play it cool"

"Does this mean he gave up on me because he got fed up with waiting for my call?" he thinks. But then again, why would he sing a song for him if he gave up?

While watching the video, Geralt is well aware of the fact that he will watch this video again and again and will take special care of each Jaskier— making sure not to miss even the tiniest of the mimic and gesture he does.

"I tell myself don't be a chump

Who cares, let him stay away

That's when the phone rings and I jump

And as I grab the phone I pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him or I shall die

Or I shall die"

He was right, this isn't a song that screams: "I'm giving up." Thank God it isn't. Jaskier puts his hand on his chest as he sings, and Ciri sighs next to Geralt, resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the video with him. 

"Oh hello, hello my dear God

It must be him but it's not him

And then I die

That's when I die"

That dramatic son of a flower actually flings himself into an armchair.

"After a while, I'm myself again

I take the pieces off the floor

Put my heart on the shelf again

You'll never hurt me anymore"

While he sings the "put my heart on the shelf again" he puts a heart sculpture on his bookshelf with a serious look and frown on his face. He might have got this heart sculpture just for this video for all Geralt knows.

"I'm not a puppet on a string,"

At this point, Geralt wouldn't be surprised to see actual strings attached to the musician's body just so he could cut the strings. He really wouldn’t be surprised, at all.

Because Jaskier is that extra most of the time.

And Geralt loves that about him.

"I'll find somebody else someday

That's when the phone rings, and once again

I start to pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him, it must be him

or I shall die, or I shall die"

The musician's voice goes up effortlessly into an unreachable octave as he sings the last part, and it's impossible not to be impressed. 

But then again, the man puts his heart into everything he does, therefore even doing something like folding a simple frog origami seems impressive when he is the one who's doing it, let alone singing as perfectly as this.

He then slowly walks towards the camera as the other boxes disappear and that one takes over the screen.

"Seriously though," he makes an aggressive 'call me' gesture, and the scene fades to black after that.

"Whoever keeps Jaskier waiting must be crazy," Ciri comments and gave a snort of disapproval and frustration. "He must care about this idiot of a guy a lot if he sings for him like this. What a jabroni. It would take him only a minute to call him."

"Ciri!"

"What? I'm right."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Geralt warns as he hands the laptop back to his daughter.

"I'm surprised that you watched the full thing, by the way. Actually, you don't seem too annoyed with me watching his videos nowadays, and you seemed quite interested in this one."

"I just love Vikki Carr," Geralt says. He has seen the title of the video, after all, so he knew this was a cover of her song. "I've wondered how he sang this song."

"Name five Vikki Carr songs then."

Geralt doesn't know five Vikki Carr songs— he can't even name two, let alone five.

"Okay, I think that's enough fun for you today," the nurse pretends not to have heard his daughter. "Do your homework while I go out to get some milk."

"We have milk at home."

"No, we don't."

"I put it in the fridge myself just this morning, so yeah, we do."

"We're out of these cookies you love, though."

"I thought you said they consumed way too much sugar so we were going to come up with a healthy and as I've read from your invisible subtitles, also probably boring recipe we can make together this weekend?"

"I— God, you ask a lot of questions today." Geralt whispers tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting Ciri's "boring recipe" comment slide.

Fuck him for not saying "I'm gonna go get some groceries," instead.

"I just asked one question, but okay. So? You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, just for one more week, you can have it."

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. Alright, I'm off!"

Geralt ruffles her hair before he grabs his wallet, keys, and most importantly, his phone.

Just before he closes the door, he can hear Jaskier's voice coming from the living room once again.

He cannot blame Ciri at all.

***

"If this is another spam call and not the important call I've been waiting for I swear on all my lute strings that I'll crush that damn phone on the ground and dance upon its bloody ruins! Actually, no, wait, that would mean the possibility of missing the call I've been waiting for, but you got my point."

As soon as Jaskier answers his call and starts talking, he feels like all the tiredness of the day disappears. Jaskier's voice manages to do that even when he is simply busy telling him off, having no idea who he is talking to. 

He can see that Ciri was right. He is an idiot for waiting for the right time.

"I'm seriously so sick of—"

Geralt finally cuts him off by saying: "Wow, I wouldn't wanna be a scammer or something right now, you aggressive Dandelion."

"Wait a second, this voice— Geralt?! Is that really you? Oh my God, you finally ca— I mean—"

Jaskier coughs as if he tries not to sound too excited, "Heey, the best nurse in the existence," Geralt can almost see his flirty frowning, yes, he manages to make even frowning look flirty for crying out loud, "How's it hanging?" he asks, his voice sounds deep, lazy, and dare he say, sensual.

"I should be asking you the same question. Are you still praying by the phone?"

"Someone does stalk me on social media, I see."

"And someone sings a song and makes a pretty impressive video clip for me, I see. My daughter was watching it, and that's how I found out about it. Just for your information."

"So you're not the one who stalks me online. It's Ciri," Jaskier says, and the fact that he remembers Ciri's name warms up Geralt's heart if he's being honest. "Sweet. Cool. Cool. I'm not hurt by that at all."

"Well..."

"Would you die if you let me be happy for just a moment? Not that I'm not happy to know that your daughter still watches my videos, but it would be nice to hear that you were the one who checked my account willingly."

"I'm sure I would see your video today anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be that soon, I admit, but I would see it."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

Silence.

But it isn't an uncomfortable one.

"Did you really find it impressive?" Jaskier asks, his voice is full of hope and happiness.

"Well—" 

"Nah, I know it's impressive, forget that I asked," he lets out a long sigh, "If I knew making a video clip for you would make you call me right away, I would do that earlier. Were you playing 'hard to get' or something? You know... I find it kinda cruel to make someone who just got out of the hospital keep waiting on the phone for so long. For your information, that 'kinda' is kinda unnecessary here maybe. I call it 'the polite kinda'. Or 'the unnecessary kinda'. " 

The next moment, Jaskier's playful tone leaves its place to a caring, worried one as he keeps talking: "If something is going wrong with your life, I take it back though. Ignore everything I said in that case. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Ah, about that— Don't worry, everything is alright," Geralt replies, "I was thinking about calling you today, but I couldn't quite find the time. I know that's not an excuse, and I know I could call you earlier, but I didn't want to call you only to say 'I have to hang up,' a minute later."

"I’m happy to hear that nothing is wrong. And well, even that would be better than leaving me hanging. Or a simple 'Hey, the best patient ever' text would do. You took so long that I would be lying if I said I didn't think about getting involved in another accident."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I would get into millions of accidents just to see you, Geralt. Provided that I could have you as my nurse every time, of course. What's the point otherwise? I'm not a masochist."

"Such a flatterer you are, Mr. Pan—"

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Cross my heart and hope do die, I'm just scattering the facts around like they are glitters. Or cake sprinkles."

"God forbid! Accidents, death... Aren't we gonna talk about nice things at all?"

"I've been waiting for you to call me forever. I have every right to be bitter about it."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I start making up to you, starting now?" 

"Sounds like you have something in your mind, Mr. Handsome Nurse." 

"I do, indeed. Have you had dinner yet?" 

"Does strawberry yogurt count as dinner?"

"I highly doubt it. You were complaining about hospital food, and yet that's what you choose to have for dinner?"

"I've never said I count yogurt as quality dinner, but it's still better than the things you dare to serve people as 'food', I should admit, I thought you already came to terms with—"

"Maybe you should come over so I can show you how a proper, nice dinner looks like. I'm not half bad at cooking."

Jaskier is silent on the other end of the line.

"Are you still there?" Geralt asks finally, "I'm sorry if this was too forward of me or too soon, I just thought it could be nice. You could meet Ciri too, that way." 

"No! Yeah! I mean—" if Geralt didn't imagine it, Jaskier sighs and murmurs an angry 'get it together you dumbass,' to himself before he continues talking. "Yes, I'm still here. No, this wasn't too forward of you. I was just taken aback a little bit, sorry. I mean, not every day a handsome nurse who I've been waiting for his call for a decade calls and invites me over for dinner. I'd love that, Geralt."

"I'll send you the address, then." Geralt checks his watch, it's nearly 6 p.m. "Is eight okay for you?"

"Sure, that should be fine. Hey, Ciri still doesn't know, right?"

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Don't you think she would just grab my phone and call you herself if she knew? Or reaching out to you on every social media possible? Shouting from the rooftops, even?"

"She really likes me that much?"

"She just called me, I quote, an 'idiot', 'crazy', and 'jabroni' after watching your video, so..."

"She did what?!"

"I mean, not directly at me since she doesn't know I'm the 'him' in the 'it must be him', but still." 

"Seems to me like you're in big trouble here."

"Don't even remind me about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't put some pressure on me though. I mean... What if she doesn't like me?"

"Wha— Ciri already adores you. She adores you so much that it's annoying sometimes."

"It's impossible not to like you," is on the tip of his langue.

"They say never meet your heroes. What if when she actually meets me, she goes 'Meh, that's it?' What if I disappoint her somehow?"

"Worrying about earth getting invaded by the aliens in pink pasta costumes and tutus would much more sense compared to this. Believe me."

Jaskier laughs at that, but Geralt can still sense that he is not completely convinced.

"If you say so."

"I know so, Jaskier. I know so."

[fangirl-everythang]

You’re Not Leaving Me J.M

Summary: Y/n wants to leave Jason after he’s neglected her for gang duties. Long story short, she doesn’t. 

Warnings: Aggression, swearing, mentions of gang activities, toxic relationship-ish.

Word Count: A bit less than 1500

Today was the day. I want to leave Jason. We've been together for almost three years now and I can't take it anymore. I love him with all of my heart but he's never home. I'm alone in this relationship and he never notices.

I try to stay up to wait for him to come back from his missions but most nights but he just showers and goes to sleep. I get being The Jason McCann, worlds most wanted is hard, but I feel like I'm in a relationship with a brick wall and it's only hurting me. I know- selfish but it's for the best. He'll probably go back to his playboy days anyways.

Yup could you believe it? Jason used to be with a new girl every night, hell when we met we didn't even like eachother. One thing led to another and here we are,  young and madly in love. Wiping the tear that managed to escape my eye thinking about him. Sitting up because Jason will be home in half an hour give or take,  I can pack now.

I begin tearing the fabric from the hangers reminiscing the good days we had. Going through the drawers looking for my charger I stumble upon a picture of Jase and I. I'll never forget it; It was new year's eve and we were on the roof of Zayn and Lo's place. It was our first year together, we were happy. The photo shows us leaning in almost about to kiss with chaos and fireworks all around us, we did the camera just didn't capture it.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

That's everything.  I set my bags in the kitchen closest to the back door. Awaiting his a rival I just pace a bit while tiding up.

I've been so lonely without him, we barely talk anymore. I'm just there when he needs me. Before he treated me like a princess now I'm equal to his gang members. He's always working late or going out on weekends, I wish I, could, confirm his loyalty busy I have no fucking idea anymore. The ringing of keys at the door distracted me from my previous thoughts.

His face lit up when he saw me "Hey baby" he smiled. It took me by surprise, he hasn't called me baby or in fact any name but the one I was born with in forever. "Hi?" I respond questionly. He just wraps his arms around me and embraced me "I missed you babygirl"

"Are you feeling okay?" I say looking at him. Those eyes, those perfect fucking eyes. The ones that can make my heart flutter with one glance. He looks confused by my question and leans in for a kiss.

If I kiss him I won't want to leave. Christ why does he do this today!

I just doge it by pretending to cough, slowly removing myself from his embrace. "How was your -" "Hold that thought one minute baby I'm just gonna go change really quick I'll be right back"

"But Jase-"

"Right back. " he hurries up the stairs blowing me an air kiss. What the fuck is wrong with him? He suddenly wants to act like a boyfriend that gives a shit.

I waited 20 minutes for Jason to come down stairs, when he didn't I decided to go up. Slowly making my way up what used to be the beautiful steps of our home, I call out his name "Jase?" Reaching the bedroom door I knock but there wasn't a response. Just as I go to open the door it is aggressively pulled open with a not so happy Jason behind it. He's wearing the same clothes. "What happened I thought you were going to change-"

"Shut up" he says lowly.

"What the fuck Jase? "

I'm not scared of him, just his behavior sometimes.

"What the fuck, you tell me y/n," he says with a sinister chuckle. I just look at him confused "So you thought I wouldn't notice your shit missing y/n, what are you trying to do?" I stood there with my arms crossed "Well if you would've let me talk down stairs I would have informed you. "

"INFORM ME ABOUT WHAT Y/N?" He shouts coming closer.

"Jason I can't do this anymore, its, we're not the same" I sigh. He just gets even closer, the vein popping out from the side of his neck. I fidget a bit under his gaze. "So what?  you were just gonna leave? You fucking whore."

"Me a whore, really Jason?! You're unbearable " I yell back my voice straining as I do so. "You're the one who's never home, I don't see you anymore, "

I'm even more frustrated than before, "You know what this isn't worth my time. Good fucking bye Jason" I say turning around but he grabs my arm and yanks me back.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Jase get off of me" I say pulling away from him. His grip just tightens. He harshly pushes me against a wall causing me groan in pain and annoyance, he just looks me dead on the eye. "You're not leaving me. "

I stop fighting back and sigh "Why not? Huh Jase" He doesn't say anything. I just listen to his increased respiration and look at his eyes, they've dilated quite a bit.

"Oh now you wanna be quiet" I say pushing his chest moving past him. "You're pathetic" I spit walking away.

"Y/n wait" he says not turning. Stopping in my tracks I waited for him to continue but after a minute I began descending down the stairs. The memories this place holds will haunt me but I keep reminding myself I need to do this for me. I have too- but he makes me happy or used to at least.

Walking into the living room to pick up my phone, wallet, and keys that are on the table. Leaving Jason is like leaving a piece of me but it's time I make a decision for me, it's gonna hurt but it's for the best. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

Walking to the door grabbing my bags and heading out the door loading them into the back of my car. I go back in to make sure I didn't leave anything and Jason is just standing there looking at me. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze but ignore it. "There's food in the fridge and your clothes are done just put them up and u-uhh yeah." He just continues to give me the same blank look. " Jason I don't want us to end on bad terms we can st-" He just looks at me dumbly before I can finish. "Y/n you're really gonna pull that shit on me" I go to speak but he just continued " Three years y/n and you're gonna leave me now. I fucking love you and you're going to leave me. I don't know what to do with myself, I know I'm a shit boyfriend but this is new to me. I need you y/n. My life is not complete without you in it. You're my everything my reason to be here, you make me better in every way." He chokes holding back tears coming closer to me and embracing me , "I'm so sorry baby" he cries into my hair. I just hug him, he needs this. "I know" I coo running my hand through his hair gently letting him calm down. His warm tears flow onto my shirt, I haven't seen Jason break down like this before. He's never cried in front of me. I didn't realize that I was crying until he pulled away to wipe my tears with his thumb. He kisses my forehead and whispers "please don't leave me" I just shake my head "Jase I think th-his will be healthy for us" "Please y/n, I'll try harder , I'll control myself , I'll be better for you. I'll do anything for you y/n" he pleads "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry"

"Jason, I don't -" he interrupts my sentence by smashing his lips on mine. Grasping the back of his neck pulling him closer to me he moves down my neck leaving a trail of wet kisses until he finds my sweet spot. I'm so weak for him. "J-jason" i halfly moan, He just continues to suck and i know exactly what he's doing.

I just let him continue because he wont stop until he’s ready. Running my hands through his hair as he continues his asult on my neck marking me as his. Once he's done he looks to admire his deep purple and red piece of art lightly tracing it he smiles down at me, cupping my cheek. "You're mine, Okay. no one will ever love you like I love you." He softly presses his lips, to mine.

AN:

Hey guys hope you enjoyed it! I know its short,  they get longer I promise. I'm open to anything but im slow as hell. 

ANyways hope your holidays are well. I really think Jason McCann can be played out in so many ways, I cannot wait for you guys to read.

Xoxox-Janelle

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 16: A Vicious Assault

Warnings: Bad Language words, some minor smut (18+, NSFW)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  As if we are 16 days in already. Only 8 more instalments left of mine, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @jennmurawski13​ ‘s Real Life Task tales. In today’s episode, our poor reader has a cold…and it falls to Ransom to play Nurse…

Series Masterlist. 

“How are you feeling?” Ransom asked, placing his hand on your forehead and you gave a groan, turning awkwardly onto your side on the sofa, head resting on the arm, your right hand laying feebly on your bump.

“How do I look like I feel?” You coughed, irritation lacing your tone and Ransom hesitated.

“Is that a trick question?”

“What?”

“Well, last time you asked me that and I said ‘like shit’ you slapped me.”

You blinked and then shrugged, he was right, you had. “No, it’s not a trick.” You coughed again.

“Well, if going off how you look is a measure then you must be feeling pretty bad.” He sighed, not an inch of teasing in his tone as his hand brushed down your cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“I can’t take anything thanks to you impregnating me.” You wheezed, sighing. “This sucks.”

“Why don’t you go back to bed?” Ransom suggested.

“I don’t wanna.” You pouted a little childishly “I’m sick of laying in there.”

With a sigh, Ransom settled on the sofa and guided your head onto his lap, his hand running through your hair. You knew he could tell how sick you felt with the lack of ‘whilst you’re down there’ quips he made.

“Try to get some rest, Princess.” His deep baritone was soft, his fingers running up and down the back of your neck in a soothing manner as you shifted a little, another cough wracking your chest and you let out a groan of frustration. But with Ransom comforting you and the warming heat of the fire, it wasn’t long before you were lulled into sleep.

****

Ransom felt Y/N’s shoulders relax and he glanced down to see his wife’s eyes were closed, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. He hated seeing his girl sick, she was normally the one soothing him when he was dying of man flu or SARS or some other horrific, tropical disease that he beat normally in a day or so of moaning like a bitch. But he was at a loss. She wouldn’t take Tylenol or anything else for that matter because she was pregnant so other than keep her supplied with water, cuddles and the occasional hot, sweet tea there wasn’t much…

Oh. Oh. Oh. Ransom Drysdale was a fucking genius.

With a little smile he gently lifted Y/N’s head from his lap, placing a cushion where his legs had been, before gently lowering her back down and quietly making his way out of the room, throwing one last glance over his shoulder. Closing the door to keep the heat in the lounge he pulled out his phone and walked into the kitchen.

“Ransom?” his mother’s voice was surprised on the other end of the phone. “Long time no speak.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, he couldn’t be fucked with listening to her moan about his lack of contact “Phones work both ways, Linda.” He drawled and smirked as she gave an annoyed tssk on the other end at his use of her name.

“What can I do for you? I mean I’m assuming that’s why you’ve called, you need something.”

“Not me, Y/N.” he clarified “She’s full of a bug and won’t take anything because of the baby but I was wondering, when I used to get sick and Grammy was around she used to give me a hot drink. What was in it?”

There was a pause and he heard his mom take a deep breath before she spoke again “Yeah, she used to give that to me, Walt and Neil too.” And whilst Ransom couldn’t see her, he could tell she was smiling “It’s just hot water, a good squeeze of lemon, a drop of honey, a tiny pinch of cayenne pepper-although that isn’t necessary, it just helps clear your nose- and a teaspoon of sugar, if needed. Depends how sweet Y/N takes her tea I suppose.”

Ransom crossed to the little blackboard on the wall in the kitchen that was used to list the shopping requirements on and quickly jotted it all down, reading it back to his mom. “Water, lemon, honey, pinch of cayenne and sugar. Got it.”

“Was that everything?”

“Yup.” He said simply, cutting the call without so much as a thank you or goodbye.

He set about looking for the ingredients, and was pleased to discover they had everything. There were a few fresh lemons and a bottle of lemon juice for when those were used up, a jar of honey, a little glass spice shaker of cayenne and even though the sugar bowl was empty he knew there was a replacement packet in the cupboard as he had unpacked the shopping that had been delivered a few days or so ago. He smirked as he remembered Y/N’s face when the truck had shown up, her hands on her hips as he’d turned to her smugly and informed her that she’d told him he needed to DO the grocery shopping, not that he needed to GO DO the Grocery shopping.

He loved loopholes.

Locating the sugar, which for some reason was contained in a clear plastic bag, he tore it opened and filled up the bowl before he headed back into the lounge to find Y/N was still fast asleep. Deciding that a nap wasn’t that bad an idea, after all he’d done a load of laundry, made the bed, cooked a passable attempt at eggs and toast for breakfast (Y/N assuring him the reason she hadn’t eaten a lot was because she felt like crap, not because it tasted bad) and cleared all the dishes, taking extra care to make sure no stray knives slashed his hand to pieces as he loaded the dishwasher.

Yup, he’d earned a rest.

Picking Y/N’s head up once more he placed the cushion against his thigh, his feet resting on the coffee table as he allowed her to sleep, his hand gently rubbing between her shoulder blades as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

**** “What is it?” you asked as he handed you the mug. You peered down at the floating slice of lemon, trying to spot what was in the drink. You’d normally take a sniff but seeing as your nostrils were at the moment about as much use as Donald Trump’s hair stylist you had to settle for using your eyes.

“It’s something my Grammy used to make for me when I was sick.” Ransom explained, sitting back next to you. You looked up and your heart fluttered a little at the boyish hope on his face. “You won’t take anything to help so I called mom to ask what was in that and-“

“You called your mom?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged and you smiled, your hands curling around the mug even more now you knew exactly what he’d done to make you the hot drink, called his mother. Something you knew was a last resort for him, he’d rather stick pins in his eyes. “It’s just lemon, honey, sugar and a tiny pinch of cayenne. It used to work for us as kids.”

“Thank you.” You spoke softly, and you meant it. He smiled, leaning back on the sofa, eyes fixed on the TV as you took a sip, instantly gagging on the drink. You tried not to make it obvious as you took another sip but the liquid assaulted your taste-buds, quite literally, your mouth going instantly dry.

“Shit, Ransom, I…”

“What? Is there too much pepper?” his face fell and you shook your head.

“No, it’s salty!”

“Salty?” he frowned, taking the mug from you and dipping his finger into the liquid. He sucked it off and then gave a grimace, “I don’t understand though, I didn’t put any salt in.”

“Well, maybe something was cross contaminated from breakfast?” you offered and he shook his head as he set the offending drink on the coffee table.

“The kitchen is spotless, sweetheart. I cleared up after breakfast and wiped down the sides again after refilling the sugar bowl, even though I didn’t spill much.”

“Wait…” you stopped him, giving a little cough. “You filled up the sugar bowl?”

“Yeah.”

“What with?”

“Sugar.” He rolled his eyes.

“You can’t have, we’re out. It’s on the list for the top up shop as I forgot it the other day.”

“No, we have a packet.” He insisted, “I found it.”

“Was it a clear, plastic packet?”

“Yeah…”

“You dumbass!” you squeaked, breaking out into a hacking cough. “That’s salt!”

“Pretty sure it said sugar on the label, Princess.” Ransom rolled his eyes.

“Okay, go check.” You shrugged at him. He paused for a moment before he stood up and headed into the kitchen. You waited for it, and sure enough…

“Son of a bitch!” came the loud groan and you smirked to yourself, looking up as Ransom walked back into the lounge.

“In my defence,” he raised his hands, “they both begin with an S.”

“True.” You chuckled, as he picked up the mug peering into it, his shoulders slumped as he was crestfallen he’d failed.

“I just wanted to get you something to feel better.” He sighed and you took a deep breath.

“Babe.” You said softly and he looked at you, his blue eyes a little sad and you smiled. “I already feel loads better than I did before, but why don’t you make it again, leave the salt but add an extra little drop of honey. It will be more than sweet enough anyway, you know I don’t like tea when it’s too sweet.”

His lips curled up into a soft smile at one side. It wasn’t a smirk, or a smug grin, it was a genuine smile, one that always melted your heart.

“Sure.” He said, dropping a kiss to your head before he grabbed the mug and moved to leave the room.

“Oh and Ran?”

He paused and stopped in the doorway, looking at you questioningly.

“Empty the sugar bowl. I’d hate for anyone else to get a-salted.” You grinned, as Ransom arched an eyebrow at you “Geddit? Assault, a-salt…”

“Yeah, I get it Y/N.” he rolled his eyes, leaving the room as he shot over his shoulder “I just happen to think your jokes are about as funny as AIDS.”

[boognish-worshipper]

Moonlight

the second part/continuation of Sunrise, Sunset!

this boutta get interesting……. it gets kinda messy but don’t worry, it isn’t over yet 🙏🙏🙏 also trevor can’t spell over text to save his life

//

Lamar didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t. He just kept thinking the whole situation over, trying his hardest to connect the dots. Make some sense of it, or at least find some logical way to deny the truth. Had it always been Franklin? It’s not like Lamar ever had a long term girlfriend, or even a chick he was hung up on like his… friend. How long had he been completely naïve? He felt stupid for not noticing sooner. He didn’t even have anyone to confide in. He obviously couldn’t confide in Frank right now. Shit. How would he face him? Lamar screwed his eyes shut tight. What the fuck was he gonna do? He tried thinking about who to turn to. Michael was obviously a no-go, what with the dynamic those two had. Then he thought about Trevor. Maybe he’d help. Maybe. It wouldn’t hurt to just ask, right?

hey

crazy guy

wut leroy. u need smthn?

uh, yeah

sort of

wut iz it?

some complicated bs again. nothin new.

cant u go 2 frank 4 whtevr prblm ur having

not exactly

can i meet u somewhere private?

wut 4

u tryna fuk me leroy?

loco. no.

jus. meet me @ vanilla unicorn asap

Lamar sighed heavily, starting to wonder if this was gonna be a bad idea to try and talk to him about this. But Trevor was kinda fruity anyway, so at least he wouldn’t judge. His phone buzzed again.

alrdy hear bro

Lamar raced over to the strip club, going through the back entrance. Trevor was sitting on his desk, already waiting for Lamar’s arrival.

“LD! What brings you to my fine establishment at this time?” He stood up, but remained leaning against the desk behind him.

“Listen man, it’s.. it’s serious.”

Trevor’s faced lifted, looking surprised. Or.. whatever concerned looked like by his terms.

“How serious we talkin’ bro?”

“Ion know, just some stupid shit I’ve been tryna wrap my head around.”

“Uhh, elaborate on that?”

“It’s gotta do with Fr-…eaky shit going on with me.”

Trevor squinted at him, like he was trying to read Lamar’s mind.

“Like..?”

“Something to do with love, I think?”

“Oh. Well. Why’d you come to me for help?”

“Because I..” He said, the words deflating in his mouth.

“I think you’re the only person who could understand where I’m coming from?”

“…I’m not reading ya. Just say it, Lamar. Jeez.”

“I think I’m in love with someone.”

A long pause filled the air with tension.

“That it?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“Jesus bro, what is the matter with you right now? You look like you’re gonna faint.”

“It’s, it’s someone we know, alright? There.”

Trevor squinted his eyes again, but not for long. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and he stood upright from the desk he was perched on.

“Wait a minute…”

Lamar looked down at the ground, embarrassment swirling around in his stomach. He felt like some child that had been yelled at for stealing some candy. He didn’t like it. He was a grown fuckin’ man for crying out loud.

“You don’t mean..”

He stood there, saying nothing and grabbing his arm protectively. The silence was back, lingering for too long.

“I fuckin’ knew it.” Trevor said, almost inaudible.

“Wh.. what?” Lamar spluttered out, looking up.

“I fucking knew it!”

Somehow hearing those words comforted and pissed off Lamar. Obviously Trevor wasn’t planning on judging him for it, but how did he know before him?

“What the fuck you mean you knew?!”

“Oh please, Lamar. You aren’t a very subtle person.”

“I am too!”

“No. You’re not. You’re really not.”

“Tell me. How, how am I not subtle as a motherfucker?”

“Hmm… I can think of a few instances to count, but honestly a perfect example was that conversation we had dropping those cars off for he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

Lamar cocked his head sideways, confused. Trevor shook his head before starting his sentence back up.

“Remember when you ah… inquired about Michael and I? Our past?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“You compared us to some.. I don’t know, divorced couple or something. Figuring it was romantic?” He averted his gaze, turning pink.

“Well, I mean after the whole rundown of our partnership, I asked you about how you and our boy Frankie met.”

“Mhm..”

“And you gave me some weird, uncomfortable story about you having a threesome with him- Which he apparently wasn’t even apart of to begin with. Didn’t know why he even appeared in that memory, but I guess it sort of makes sense now. It was also the fact you.. uh, deciphered my relationship, and tried to compare it to you and Frank. That’s how I started to catch on.”

“Shit.”

“I mean I… I was in the same boat as you, kid. You were right, y’know.”

“I was?”

“Michael and I… were never perfect. But back then I was,” His voice lowered.

“…Am.” He corrected, voice barely above a whisper. Coughing, he continued.

“In love with him. Or something.”

“Shit, for real?”

“For reals homie. I know what you’re going through. Only difference is Mikey uh.. was a little more repressed than I was. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Lamar stood in shock, eventually flopping down on the couch.

“What the fuck am I gon’ do, Trevor?”

“Well, I know I’m friends with him but I’m not exactly as close to him as you or Mike. So I can’t exactly say whether or not he’s like Michael in that regard, you know?”

“Fuck, man…”

“Hey.. I uh, I’m sorry if I wasn’t much help. I never really knew how to deal with those feelings towards Mike. It’s like, even harder to manage when you have a bond like that.”

“No, no. I needed this I think.”

“Go home, Lamar. Try to get some rest or something.”

As he got up, he placed a hand on Trevor’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

For the first time since they met, Trevor gave him a genuine smile. He patted his hand and scooted him out the door. Driving back, he still felt sort of restless. Even if he did sleep, it wasn’t gonna be enough. When he got back home and in his bed, he pulled out his phone.

So you’re back.

yup

i thought about what you said

Wait - really?

yeah. i’m a fuckin idiot

Doesn’t take a psychic to know that.

hey

that’s uncalled for lady

What is it you need? It’s very late you know - is what I said keeping you up?

bingo bitch

and uh yeah, i need to know what the fuck u said to franklin

what does he know?

All I told him was that I saw you at his house - very frequently I might add.

I might’ve mentioned you were there in his old room all the time, in his bed with someone he knew - an older woman, perhaps? He didn’t take it too well.

wait a minute

his auntie? i mean she bad and all but

i never.. like did anything with her. not like that

He thought differently. The implications might’ve been misread - why would you choose his childhood bed for something like that? Shame on you

and i might’ve picked the wrong fuckin person to speak to

lady, what the fuck? i never fucked his auntie!

i wouldn’t do that to him, even if she got a dumptruck ass

You are a strange man Lamar. All I saw was you two in his bed, very, very often.

I wouldn’t have known you felt anything for him had you not contacted me - and even now you still made a pass at her!

all we did was talk! n there’s nothing wrong wit admiring ass.

Whatever you say - oh wait…

I’m seeing something

goddammit

it better be good

I’m seeing you two again - and you’re right. You’re talking… about Franklin?

why else would we be in his room. if i was gon fuck his auntie we would’ve done it in hers or sumn

or in the livin room maybe.

I’m seeing something else now - he’s taken the place of his aunt. Oh. Wow…

what? what is it?

what do u see?

I… completely misinterpreted Franklin’s reading. It seems like it was supposed to be him in her place.

I’m not sure how he read it exactly - my best guess was that it wasn’t the latter.

And seeing as he no longer lived there, the vision got mixed up some how for both of us. You did have some connection to her though - don’t lie. That was most likely the problem.

i mean yeah. i hit on her a couple times

maybe thought it about it once or twice

More than that.

whatever. still, i ain’t do shit to her, ion stoop that low lady

Then I apologize. But I cannot fix this problem for you - you’re going to have to talk things out

Because right now, he’s assuming you’re acting weird because you actually *did* something with his aunt.

Fuck me man

this sucks

ur evil lady, u know that?

Hey, I’m not the one hanging out with his aunt. Now go to bed. I’ll deal with you another time.

hey wait

come back

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

“God fuckin’ damn it not again!”

He chucked his phone against the wall, and began yelling into his pillow. He wasn’t gonna sleep right at all until he fixed this mess. Fucking psychic lady.

The next morning when Lamar passed by his mirror he audibly gasped. He looked like shit. He looked like he was definitely hiding something. And he knew he couldn’t see Frank today. His phone buzzed and as soon as he glanced down he felt the urge to throw it across the room. Speak of the fuckin’ devil. Franklin was fucking calling him. Taking a deep breath, he hit answer.

“Yo.”

“Hey L. How you feelin’?”

“Better. Thanks.”

“Yeah man. You know what was up wit’ you or…”

“I.. I think it was some sort of stomach bug man. Doin’ alright now tho.”

“Glad to hear.”

“So are you callin’ me for something or-“

“Actually yeah. I wanted to talk to you.”

“N-now?”

“Later. Sunset? That cool wit’ you?”

“Uh yeah, yeah. Heard it’s a full moon.”

“Dope. Been meaning to talk about this for a while anyway, and you always dragging me around to go see the sunrise.”

“Makes sense.” More sense than the shit he was in the middle of.

“See you then?”

“Of course dog.”

Click. Lamar dropped his shoulders, which had grown tense during the duration of the call. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to understand what he was dealing with better. He thought to himself that he couldn’t possibly be gay, because he loved himself some hoes now and then. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel the same around Franklin. Women and men… was that possible? Could you be into men AND women? He looked it up on his phone, and found a definition that fit him. Bisexual? That’s a thing? He thought it was just, gay and straight. That you couldn’t be both. But… at least that was accounted for. Putting his phone away, he moved on to the next part of the puzzle. What was he going to do when night time came? He couldn’t straight up tell Franklin. That would ruin everything. But how would he explain that he didn’t fuck his Aunt? He had to have a reason to back it up. Either way, he was screwed.

Night came too quick. Lamar kept pacing his room, not taking his eyes off his phone that rested on his bed. Any minute Frank would call him. Any fucking minute now. He still didn’t have a plan. What was he going to do? The phone lit up, buzzing loudly. Oh no. He practically dove to answer it, feigning a nonchalant tone. It wasn’t very impressive.

“Heyyy Frank. I was waiting for word from you.”

“Hey. I’m on my way, be ready.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“See you in 5 L.”

Even after Frank hung up, he didn’t lower the phone from his ear. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, ohshit. He was panicking now, phone dropping to the floor. Not noticing how long he was standing there, he heard a car pull up, then honk. Oh, shit. He raced out the door clumsily, trying to shove his phone in his pocket. Opening the car door, he was hit with the now overwhelming scent of Franklin. Something along the lines of weed and the same cologne he’d be buying for years. He remembered how Tanisha had gotten it for him back when they first started dating as a gift. The detail only made him more nauseous.

“Hey LD.”

“Hey.”

“Get in homie, I got a good spot for us, real sick view n shit.”

“Ah.. aight.”

The car ride wasn’t entirely awful for Lamar, listening to Collard Greens play loudly through the speakers. Franklin had taken them to some secluded spot near Vespucci beach, where no one would bother them. As they got out of the car, Lamar got a clear view of the sunset. It was even better than a sunrise. They found a bench to sit on, and Lamar felt like there wasn’t enough space between them. Did it magically fucking shrink as soon as they sat down? Shit. He cleared his throat, trying to seem neutral and not like he was internally freaking the fuck out.

“So uh… what’d you need to talk to me about?”

Franklin sighed, and Lamar’s stomach was in knots.

“It’s.. just somethin’ I been thinkin’ about for a while. I really jus’ didn’t know how to bring it up or whatever. But let’s jus’ enjoy the sunset right now.”

In contrast to how every sunrise went, the sunset contained shades of pinks and purples. There were also mixed shades of green, from the combination of yellow and blue clashing together. It was a miraculous sight. Frank was right, why didn’t they see sunsets more often? He watched the light sink down past the water, replaced by moonlight not much later. The two sat in silence, as stars filled the sky. The view had grown darker, but he could see the moonbeam reflect in the calm waves. He turned to Franklin, who had a serene expression on his face. He was blue in the moonlight, and it made Lamar feel all kinds of things he never felt for anyone before. Franklin side-eyed him, sitting upright. Here goes nothing.

“Lamar… I just. I gotta ask. I uh.. heard from someone,” Fucking psychic lady.

“That you uh.. and my.. Denise. My Aunt. Were uh.. you were at my house or something with her?”

Lamar eyes were wide. Franklin looked anywhere but him, clearly uncomfortable bringing the topic up. He kept tripping over his words, not knowing how to ask.

“Are.. and I won’t be mad if you are, but are you… and my Aunt.. Are y’all foolin’ around?” He scrunched his face up getting the words out. He almost looked hurt, like he was betrayed at the thought of it all.

“What?”

“Are you fuckin’ my Auntie or what man?!” He forced out.

“Franklin. What.”

He knew the psychic lady had said he got the wrong idea, but hearing it out loud from him was just mind boggling.

“Jesus Christ Franklin, no. I’m not! Why would you even think that?!”

Now he felt hurt. Did he really think Lamar would do something like that?

“You say shit about her all the fuckin’ time! I don’t even know why, because she’s fuckin’ nuts man! I have heard a million and one remarks about her from yo bitchass self!”

“Yeah but I would never-“

“And in my fuckin’ bed man?! Are you for real?!”

“I’m not fucking her! I never was!”

“That’s not what I fuckin’ heard dog! And don’t think I haven’t noticed how weird you’ve been actin’, all guilty n shit. I knew you were hidin’ shit from me, I jus’ didn’t think it’d be my absolute worst fuckin’ nightmare!”

“Franklin! For fucks sake bro that’s not why I’ve been actin’ so weird!”

“Then tell me, exactly, what the hell your problem is!”

Lamar’s mouth hung open, looking for what the fuck to say.

“Homie. It’s not like that. I’m seriously, seriously not fucking her. I’m… just-”

“What, Lamar?!”

“I think I’m in love.”

Shock covered Franklin’s face. Complete, utter shock. His face then twisted into a furious expression.

“Are you fuckin’ for real right now? You’re not fuckin’ my Aunt, you’re in love with her?! Fuck you man!”

“Wait, no that’s not what was I was implying-“

Franklin shot up from his seat, throwing his hands up.

“You’ve officially lost yo mind dog. You two enjoy each other. I’m fuckin’ out of here bro.”

“Franklin, wait-“

“No, no. I.. I need to go. I need to clear my mind or whatever the fuck, because I am just… unbelievably pissed right now.”

“But I’m not-“

“Save it, LD. I’ll… catch you later. Or something. Bye.”

Franklin walked back to his car, abandoning Lamar. Some how, this was worse than confessing to him. He felt sick to his stomach. How the hell was he gonna fix this mess? He remained seated, watching the water lap at the shore. He needed to fix this. And he knew, although he wish he didn’t have to, that’d he’d have to come clean. He didn’t want to ruin his friendship, and some how still did by just not blurting it out. Soon. Soon, after Franklin was ready to talk to him again. He prayed to a higher being, hoping desperately it’d all work out.

//end of pt 2!!!!! i’m sorry this is kinda angsty or whatever :( but i am gonna write a happy ending for this!! lamar deserves the world i love his character sm *sobs* (also sorry this part’s longer than the last one LMAO)