#but just imagine pretending to be tipsy so you can pour your heart out to your best friend w plausible deniability

[danothan]

there’s a river in egypt that barry allen swims laps around

[Blackest Night #4, Green Lantern 2011 #38]

[spookiekewchie]

forever's gonna start tonight

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Shang Chi "Shaun" x woc!reader

Summary: a drunken night out at a karaoke bar ends with you meeting a mysterious yet sweet stranger

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fluff, general language warning, mentions of drinking, mentions of butchering a classic, set before the events of the movie so NO SPOILERS DON'T WORRY

A/N: Basically I had a need to write some Shang Chi after seeing the movie. Also please note that since this is set before the events of the movie he's calling himself Shaun. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You can’t believe you let your friends drag you to a karaoke bar, you also can’t believe that they have plied you with drinks just to loosen you up enough to get you up on stage. Yet there you stand, tipsy enough to justify the belting of Total Eclipse of the Heart to a crowd that’s thankfully singing the classic along with you. Well almost everyone in the crowd is singing along.

There’s one man sitting silently and simply smiling, while the woman he sits beside is screaming the lyrics out. You can’t keep your eyes off of him, even when you try to look somewhere else they always drift back and you swear that it’s the longest four minutes and twenty-seven minutes of your life because you know that every time your gaze drifts back to him he’ll be sitting there with that warm smile on his face. It has your stomach doing somersaults, and even in the dim lighting of the bar you can tell he’s handsome. Handsome and hopefully drunk enough for you to hope he doesn’t think you’re an absolute mess for how badly you’ve butchered sung this iconic song.

With the final words uttered, you set the mic down and jump off stage to make a beeline straight for the bar. You need another shot, maybe two or three now that your tipsy buzz is starting to fade and your nerves are gearing up. What the hell were you doing here? You don’t go to karaoke bar’s and get on stage! God your friends were going to catch hell for this tomorrow, and you hope every last one of them wakes up with a hangover for what they’ve dragged you into. You love them, but dammit this is so far outside your comfort zone that you can’t help but start to feel mortified at the off key performance you just gave.

“Let me pay for those.” A voice says from beside you, drawing your attention. Ever so slightly your eyes widen, it’s the guy, and those suspicions about him being handsome were nothing compared to actually seeing him up close. It’s almost embarrassing how openly you start to let your gaze drag over him appreciatively, you don’t even realize it until your eyes are back on his and he’s smirking down at you.

Fuck. Get it together bitch, stop being so obvious. You think to yourself before shrugging as if to say “go ahead.” It doesn’t help you at all when you hear the breathy chuckle that he gives when he sidles just a little closer to you and tells the bartender to put the drinks on his tab.

“I’m Shaun,” He introduces himself, and when you give him your name in return he repeats it softly and dammit you can’t help but like the sound of it on his lips. You manage to not let your imagination run wild at the thought of all the ways you can make him say your name, and instead just watch the bartender pour your shots. “I liked the song choice.” He says after a moment of watching you pretend that you aren’t aware of how he’s just let his gaze sweep over you slowly. You were grateful that your mouth was empty when he said it, otherwise you’re sure you would have choked at the mention of the performance you were trying to forget. He means it though, he enjoyed watching you up there, belting out the lyrics and adding a few dramatic moves here and there when the crowd started to join in. He especially liked the way you got caught up in the moment, enjoying yourself despite the nerves he could tell you were feeling up there.

But there’s one part that sticks out in his mind. It’s you with your eyes shut, lost in the crescendo of the song and swaying to the beat. Your head tipped back and the microphone gripped in your hands.

I really need you tonight...forever's gonna start tonight��

You were beautiful up there, backlit by the screen as it displayed the lyrics as the light shone behind you and the curls of your hair as it gave you the effect of having a halo. Who could blame him for being mesmerized by you.

“Too bad I can’t carry a tune to save my life.” You joke, hearing him chuckle under his breath, you’re thankful when the bartender slides two shot glasses towards you. You down one, letting the alcohol burn down your throat before you face the ridiculously attractive man at your side and smile. “You know that song isn’t about what everyone thinks it is.” You say, letting your nerves take over for a moment. The curious furrow of the man’s brow doesn’t deter you as you reach for the second shot and down that as well. “I mean it is, it’s a love song, but it’s about vampires.”

“No it’s not!” He seems genuinely surprised at that fact, and you just laugh as he pulls his phone out to do a quick google search that only confirms what you’ve told him. “No shit, huh...any other music facts that you wanna share?”

You regard him curiously, trying to gauge if he’s genuinely interested or just saying what he thinks he has to in order to get you to leave with him. “I’m a treasure trove of weird music facts.” You tell him, watching as that warm smile he’d been giving you while you were on stage returns and you can’t help but find it endearing.

“I’d love to hear them.” He admits, though truthfully he’s willing to listen to you talk about anything if it means that you’re talking to him.

You’re about two seconds from taking him up on the offer when your group of friends rush you at the bar and all but drag you away, oblivious that you were otherwise occupied. You’re nearly out the door before you convince them that you need to go back inside and take care of something. You’re hoping he’s still there at the bar, and the relief you feel when you see him there makes you smile happily as you quickly make your way back over. He gives you a curious look, watching as you grab a napkin and pull a pen from your purse. When he sees that it’s your number that you’re jotting down he grins, happily taking it when you hold it out to him.

“Call me sometime, Shaun.” You say before turning and going back to your friends who are annoyingly calling for you to hurry up.

He’s got every intention of doing just that, watching as you go. He’s quick to pull out his phone so that he can put your number in it because there’s no way he’s going to risk something happening to that napkin and losing it.

“So...how’d it go, lover boy?” Katy's voice rings out as she bounces over to the bar and grins knowingly at her friend.

“How soon is too soon to call? Because I really want to call her right now.” He won’t, he doesn’t want to come off desperate. So he’ll wait until tomorrow’s lunch break to give you a call, and hopefully set up a date.

[demoiselledefortune]

Post canon sangcheng fic recs for @runespoor7

(wooohoo that’s only 25 fics haha)

Silence by inberin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441771

a conversation in the snow.

Wonderfully nuanced characterisation. It hints at whole relationship and dynamic with a lot of delicacy.

Windrose by offlight

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997546

Nie Huaisang is forced into a coma to stop his qi deviation. Jiang Cheng is tasked with waking him up.

There’s a lot of intriguing dreamscapes in this one, and I love Jiang Cheng (and in the background Wei Wuxian)’s desperation and obstinacy.

All the innocence we give by shamiran

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864910

Learning to renavigate the ground between them is easier than Nie HuaiSang expects. It's also harder than he could have imagined.

Just a sweet story.

Taste the wine off your lips by ExNihiIo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129245

A light pat lands against his back, and a cup of water is pushed in front of his face. “Not even Zi Shi, and you’re already tipsy?,” asks a teasing voice, while a thin hand puts down the cup. Jiang Cheng coughs a little more, shaking his head, and sends a dirty look at his host. “I am not tipsy.” “Hm, and yet your cheeks are all red. What would your disciples think, if they saw you in this state?” “They’d think about running away while they can. I can break legs more easily than I can drink alcohol.” A smile curves the edges of Nie Huaisang’s mouth, and he closes his fan with a curt jerk, sitting across the table. He’s wearing lighter clothes, Jiang Cheng notices, compared to the ones he had during the Discussion Conference. Where those had been tight and rigid against his body, these now fall softly on him, the large sleeves sweeping delicately as Nie Huaisang moves to pour himself a cup.

I like the melancholy tone of this one.

The light of autumn: you will not be spared by crooows

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901467/chapters/47138221

Nie Huaisang arrives a week early for the conference which will be held in Yunmeng to discuss the position of chief cultivator.

[Title is from a poem called "October" by Louise Glück!]

A bit funny, a bit melancholy

You can run but you can’t hide by ThirtySixSaveFiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119297

Nie Huaisang has noticed something about the way Jiang Cheng takes compliments; Nie Huaisang has a theory, and he intends to test it out.

Just Huaisang figuring out Jiang Cheng has a praise kink. Established pairing.

Evening Bloom by dragonofeternal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958518

Jiang Cheng is spry and lithe well into his twilight years, living well off Wei Wuxian's stolen youth; Nie Huaisang's golden core, on the other hand, has always been poor- he blacks his hair with ink and dyes, hides the pudge of indolence and the wrinkles of age behind the latest fashions and the finest fans. Perhaps for their peers, finding the space to be vulnerable came easy, but for them it's taken this long to maybe think of letting someone in.

I have a big weakness for stories about old people falling in love and this is one delivers very sweetly.

Four Days in Lanling by Halotolerant

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722695/chapters/51817036

Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’

‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’

Ok so perhaps it’s misrepresentating to call this a post canon fic  since most of the action is mid-13-years-of-WWX-death but the fairly important framing part is post canon. Also it’s one of the best sangcheng fic out there and a must read.

Shadow eternal by rynleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162944/chapters/55439032

“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.

Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”

Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”

-

In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.

One that’s between sweet and angsty.

The way is shut, and we cannot go back by saltedpin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592523

One month since Guanyin Temple, and some people are coping better than others (or not).

This one is a mostly sad and bitter take on Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plot (and being very drunk).

Living memory by ghosthouses

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827980

Once Jin Guangyao has left, he gives himself two indulgences. The first, a day to scream in his rooms made soundproof with a talisman. The second, a physical list written in code, to keep his older self, who will have let the pain dull with time, accountable for what must be done.

It has only two commandments:

He will die.  

and 

He will know.

Nie Huaisang puts it in his sleeve with the intention of keeping it with him at all times, to be added to but never reduced, a living memory of his task.

This and its prequel which you should also read is quite short but probably one of my favorite depictions of their dynamic (and probably one I find most plausible).

What’s Left of us by cangse-sanren

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979081

“Well,” Huaisang tries hesitantly, “both of us seem to have a rather fraught relationship with things like older brothers and the concept of betrayal. And regret,” he adds as an afterthought. "Perhaps you just understand me more than most."

Yet another that dwells into Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plan. I really like that take although it’s barely shippy (and quite short).

Descending by lightningwaltz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296595

“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”

“To not be embarrassed during what?”

“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”

“Very good.”

“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.

Very interesting fic and in many ways unusual. I’d say it’s hypnosis kink, but it’s much more character driven than that. With a context of established FWB arrangement between Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang.

Tell him that I miss our little talks by xiaolongbaobei

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232023

the post-canon fic where Jiang Cheng becomes the Chief Cultivator, realizes that it's not too late to fall in love and learns to ask for what he wants

Longish fic exploring Jiang Cheng as Chief cultivator working with Nie Huaisang and slowly falling in love with him. I adore this one, and not only because I love fics that explore the idea of Jiang Cheng as chief cultivator.

Blind for Love by manamune

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760272

Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.

The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.

Mostly a long smutty piece, but with a lot of fun character bits along the way.

A Tight-Knit Family by aldalin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500481/chapters/61862899

“Jing Ling, we need to talk.”

Jin Ling has too many uncles, and he’s about to get another.

Sect Leader Jiang announces his marriage to Sect Leader Nie.

A fairly different take, more focused on Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian reacting to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s relationship.

A trip to Qinghe by Scorpiwriting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974741

An unexpected hunt forces Jiang Cheng to leave the Lotus Pier a bit earlier than he had anticipated, so he decides to send Jin Ling to Qinghe, for the sake of not sending him back to Lanling so soon: it turns into a learning experience for the young sect leader, who gets to peek into the life of the Headshaker.

or.

Jin Ling learns that not everything people say is true and that perhaps there is some merit to art. He also learns that loneliness is a dark beast and that his uncle should definitely do something about it.

Another one more focused on Jin Ling’s reaction to it. Honestly more of a gen piece about Jin Ling and Nie Huaisang, but an interesting one.

Silver bracelets on their wrists by mercurious

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797715

“Can’t I find excuses to visit an old friend?”

Ok so this one is a bit fucked up in interesting ways. It combines Chief Cultivator Jiang Cheng and explicit longing about Wei Wuxian, and BDSM as catharsis. It’s a fascinating piece.

Welcome to love by amphigoric

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412866/chapters/53549794

Desire, Jiang Cheng learned, flourished even in love’s absence. It surged hot and fast through his veins at the sight of Nie Huaisang’s spread thighs, marks still lingering from the last rendezvous they had. He felt it burning through his chest as Huaisang raked lines down his back, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps: “Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Wanyin, please, please.”

It’s a little bit clumsy at times, but also very passionate and intense in a way I still find compelling. Featuring a lot of self sabotaging Jiang Cheng.

When your stitch comes loose by heyninja

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868454/chapters/68234434

Sometimes people see you for who you really are. Sometimes because you let them. Sometimes whether you like it or not.

A triptych of collisions between Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng.

Only the last part is post canon but it’s the most important part, isn’t it?

Peel your heart like a pomegranate by Izumi_silverleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458974

"It's an extraordinary feeling when parts of your body are touched for the first time. I'm thinking of the sensations from sex and surgery."

Sometimes you just need to read a very hot guro fic. It’s a weird fic but it’s a cool one.

If you give a Nie a cushion by LesbianLazerOwl

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470236

Prompt: Long enough After Canon that everyone's mostly okay these days, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang get drunk and wind up comparing masturbation habits; each is aghast at how the other spends their personal time.

Funny and hot

To Distraction by isozyme

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763816

It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.

Established pairing in which Nie Huaisang fists Jiang Cheng. It’s hot.

Safe in Your arms by Dragon_scribe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070503/chapters/74058315

In the aftermath of a night hunt gone (very) wrong, Jiang Cheng wakes up to find himself in the Unclean Realm. As he recovers from his injuries, he and Nie Huaisang grow closer and as time passes, their friendship begins to shift to something more.

Very sweet/sappy and hurt/comfort orientated, with a small bit of reconciliation dimension too.

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue thing - JJ Maybank

NOT REQUESTED

-

Warnings!: Swearing, drugs and alcohol, and SMUT!

-

“Morning guys!” I beam as the boat comes to a steady stop at the edge of my front garden. It’s almost like a routine. More often than not we sail into an open set of water. Sometimes we fish, mostly we just simply do nothing. Pope extends his hand out to help me onto the boat. It strikes me sometimes that, although we are all the best of friends, it probably seems a strange mix of people to some people. We’re the scraps of the island. The ones who no one really acknowledges. Kiara and I would technically be Kooks. Both of our families have money but it doesn’t really mean shit. Everyone from ‘our end’ are airheads. They care about nothing and no one but themselves. Pope’s parents have worked their asses off, so they’re in a stable place. They don’t understand why Pope hangs with us, and sometimes I wonder the same thing. He has a real chance of getting out of this place. John B and JJ are childhood besties. Their upbringing is similar, except John B’s technically an orphan, and JJ’s father’s a piece of shit. But that’s just pogue life.

“Is your mum still out tonight?” JJ asks, making my head slowly turn towards him. Do I even need to ask? “I mean, yeah-” “Great! We’re throwing a party,” I raise my eyebrows. “Hahahahaha, definitely not.” The last time I had a party with these idiots, so much shit broke in my house. I’m not getting grounded again. “Come on Y/N! It’s summer. We could all use a party!” I roll my eyes at his words. I open my mouth to shut him down but John B lets out a cough. “Actually, Y/N, I agree.” Kiara looks just as confused as I do. His father’s been missing for almost a year. Recently he’s been looking more in depth, which I support to a certain extent, but it’s at on overload right now. I’m surprised a party would even be on his radar. “I need to talk to Sarah Cameron.”

Sarah Cameron. She’s like Kook royalty. I don’t think she’s too bad. A bit sheltered maybe, but her and Kiara have a history. So you can imagine the change in look on her face as he mentions her name. “She mentioned something that might help me figure out what’s happened with my father. Do you think she’d come?” Okay that makes sense. Ki’s face doesn’t change, and the rest of us just glance between each other. “I mean, probably... but I don’t really wanna hang-” “I just need to talk to her, then you can call the party off,” a smile - too shiny and wide - spreads across his face. John B’s always had this affect on people. He gets exactly what he wants.

As soon as I get home I scan my house. Anything fragile, valuable, or anything of the sort needs to be hidden. Vases, mini statues, ashtrays from holidays abroad. Things that make this house a home will be locked in an upstairs bedroom. I’d like to live this life a little longer.

So here I am; picking an outfit for a party I don’t wanna go to. A party that I’m apparently hosting! Since I’m not dressing for anybody, I go for a simple short black dress. It really resembles my mood. Almost as soon as I put it on, I hear my front door shut. I jog down the stairs, adjusting my boobs into their rightful positions to come face to face with my intruder.

“You should really announce yourself or something. I thought I was gonna get murdered,” in front of me stands JJ. His outfit consists of a pair of lovely beige shorts and a colourful shirt; left open to show off that torso of course. “I could kill you,” he flirts. His eyes immediately go to my cleavage. This is nothing new. I think he’d fuck a table if it gave him the right vibe. “Hey!” I snap my fingers at him. “My eyes are up here you know.” Before I go to kick him, he makes a very boyish comment of how I look sexy and whatnot. He wanders away into the kitchen, probably to raid my fridge before the party. Let’s get this over with.

More and more people start to gather in my house. In the Outer Banks, everyone kind of knows everybody. I don’t actually know all these people, but I’ve seen them around. I close my eyes for a second, before pouring a drink for myself into a classic red cup. “Are you okay?” Ki nudges me with a smile. Ki and I are very similar people. She probably doesn’t wanna be here either. She could leave, but I know she won’t. “I just realised I’m the host, and I don’t wanna be here,” I laugh it off and hold my drink up to her. “Cheers!” I add.

After about 2 and a half drinks, I’m really starting to feel this party. The music is average. It’s the ‘for everybody’ kind which means it’s majoritively overplayed and everybody more or less knows it word for word. Despite that, and despite the fact that I didn’t really want this party to happen, I drag Ki into the dance area and boogie with her. Well- I dance, she stares at me with a concerned look on her face. “The trick is you have to pretend you’re having a good time,” I giggle into her ear in a slightly tipsy tone. Although she shakes her head, I can see her trying to contain herself from moving to the music. I take her hand and spin myself into her. Her eyes give me the ‘can I go now’ look. Grunting, I give in. “Fine! Please if you see anyone doing or touching shit they’re not meant to, beat them!” I smile innocently after my words, and she scurries faster than she should. Damn. Am I that bad of a dancer?

Music vibrates the walls. It’s been almost 2 hours since the party started and it’s actually going quite smoothly. John B has asked every 5 seconds if Sarah’s here yet. I shush him with my finger. “I promise I will let you know when I see her. Honestly, you sound a bit obsessed with her...” I chuckle. “Hey!” I poke JJ on the arm. At this point, just call me mother. “Please don’t smoke that in here,” I gesture towards the spliff in his hands. “It’s a party Y/N! Relax!” With that, I snatch it out of his hands. His face grows serious. Confusion fades as I realise it’s not aimed at me. Both JJ’s and John B’s eyes stare at the group entering my house.

First in, Sarah. Like I said, I don’t really have a problem with Sarah. She comes across a bit self centred sometimes. That’s minor.

With her, her boyfriend Topper. Topper’s a dick but I think he’s harmless. He’s honestly a pussy.

And his best friend. Her brother. My ex boyfriend. Rafe.

There’s a saying; dead things should stay buried, or something like that. That relationship should be 6 feet under, but times that by 10. I guess it was a ‘serious’ relationship. It lasted about a year. It was almost perfect at the beginning, that I can’t lie. As both of our families are respected, and very close anyway, it just seemed right. There was no disgust. He was accepted. I was accepted. We did everything a couple should; went on dates, were around each other 24/7, even did weekends away together. And we argued. The thing about Rafe is he’s an over thinker. He’s paranoid. When traits like that mix they can... make a monster. The last time he set his hands on me was about 4 months ago. I’ve avoided him like hell ever since.

“This is why I shouldn’t have a party,” I sigh. My eyes can’t seem to leave that area. It’s strange to see him. I don’t want him here. “Why’s he even here? He does have some balls,” John’s tone sounds somewhat impressed. I’m not. I’m not sure if my body is ready to cry, or laugh, or scream. Finally, I blink my eyes away, and set eyes on my two friends. Before I speak, JJ opens his mouth. “We can kick him out,” he assures me. The slight nudge on my shoulders by each boy is comforting. “It’s fine,” I sigh, taking JJ’s drink out of his hands. As much as I’d love to see Rafe get his ass kicked and thrown out, and I can promise you I would, this is my battle. I can’t avoid him forever. “Fuck,” I whisper, knowing what I’m about to do. I bring JJ’s cup up to my lips and tip the entire contents into my mouth. “Shit Y/N, I wouldn’t-” before he can warn me fully, I swallow. My eyes instantly water. “What the fuck!” I gasp at the disgusting taste. I’m sure a toilet would taste better than that. And yet, that concoction would be easier to digest than the conversation I’m about to have with Rafe.

The walk over felt somewhat unreal. As if, if this was a movie, my passionate walk would be in slow motion. Between the music and my racing heart, my dramatic ‘I am the main character’ strut was complete. If only I wasn’t totally shitting myself. A brave face Y/N. Just fake it.

And then I’m in front of them. Perhaps my slow motion moment wasn’t quite slow enough. It could’ve been everlasting for all I care. “Hey Sarah,” I smile. Her sympathetic smile is warming, but ultimately useless in this situation. I doubt Rafe told her the whole story, but I can imagine she knows too well what he can be like. Maybe he even made something up. I wouldn’t be surprised. She drifts away rather quickly. I don’t know what the deal is with her and John B, but I imagine Topper intends to watch her like a hawk. He’s that type of guy. Topper doesn’t even speak, just stands slightly behind as if he’s one of Rafe’s minions. To be honest that kind of describes him perfectly. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe just has him around to lick his ass. When I have to, I finally look at Rafe’s face. “What are you doing here?” I ask. My eyes scan everywhere on his face but his eyes. The thought of doing that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s a party Y/N,” the smirk on his face screams fuckboy. “Plus, I wanted to see you,” he raises his hand to my face, going to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. My hand forcefully bats his away, making a loud slap sound; even over the music. “I’ve missed you,” he leans closer so his shouting can quieten a little. My limbs instantly tense at his words. Somehow it makes me feel kind of sick thinking about it... thinking about us. The fact that it was a thing is just... “You need to leave Rafe,” my attempt to sound blunt and assertive is a massive fail. Instead my voice echoed in a wobble, making me sound weak and pathetic. “You don’t mean that, come on-” his hand wraps around my wrist, taking my back to a time I’ve tried desperately hard to forget. I pull my arm away once, but his grip holds too strong. As I go to pull away again, a pair of large hands push against Rafe’s chest. “What the fuck man?!” Topper’s voice erupts from Rafe’s shadow. A henchman fighting his duties. I turn to see JJ, red faced, standing with a threatening stance. “We don’t want no trouble JJ, my girl here is just being a tease,” Rafe’s tone is patronising. “Leave it, JJ,” my right hand gently squeezes his left shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, Topper,” I wanted him to leave, but I watch him walk towards my kitchen. I hate that he’s in my house, but at least he’s away from me. For now.

I fade away. Without full control, my body makes it’s way upstairs. Just to breathe for a second. Almost as soon as I drop my body onto my bed, the door reopens. Startling me, I come face to face with JJ. “Hey,” his voice rings soft. When he closes the door behind him, the music becomes muffled. Peaceful. I press my lips together into a forced smile. “Should I tell everyone to fuck off home?” He gestured towards the door. I shake my head, cracking a smile. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute away from... that,” his arm extends, a red cup at the very end. I screw my face up at the smell. “How do you drink this?” Just from sniffing it, I feel myself getting more and more tipsy. “If you need it, it goes down quite easily-” he pauses as I take it. “Plus I’m really cool and manly so.” “Ah, of course.” A big part of my body (probably my stomach and liver) starts screaming no. I have no idea what alcohol is in this cup. I know it’s a lot. After this cup, I will probably be more or less gone. A micro part of me says fuck it. That’s the part I listen to. The liquid burns down my throat, and yet it strangely goes down quite smoothly compared to the first.

“I am sorry about Rafe,” JJ has taken a seat next to me on my bed. Usually I’d banish people away from my room, but I feel like JJ saved me tonight. He’s a bit of a prick at times, and an absolute idiot, but I trust him. Maybe I trust him too much. “It was gonna happen at some point,” I shrug. “He’s such a pussy,” when I start laughing at JJ’s words, I realise that the alcohol may have sunk in. A hiccup escapes my mouth. “Fuck.” I whisper to myself as my smile fades. I’m an idiot to have ever gotten with him. Young and dumb maybe. “Hey...” JJ rests his hand on my knee and squeezes gently. My body, in my tipsy state, reacts to this motion is a strange way. Why did that just give me butterflies? He’s only comforting me. My eyes drift up to look at him properly. Is he... leaning in?

I stand up before he gets close. I rub my eyes frantically. Maybe I’m about to wake up from a nap or something. “I’m sorry... I just...” I breathe. The crazy thing is, I felt it too. My body is reacting in crazy ways right now. I think I’m turned on? By JJ? That’s something I never thought I’d say. I mean... he’s hot. I’m not blind. I guess I’ve never looked at him like that. But I am now. I’m looking at the blonde hair, and the jawline, and the smile. Okay, that’s enough. I’m just in shock of seeing Rafe again. That’s it: “Pogue on Pogue isnt allowed,” I state, mainly to myself. I need massively convincing right now. I need JJ to tell me that I got the wrong idea. Tell me it’s disgusting and I’m too much like a sister. We’re meant to be family. Come on Y/N! That’s gross! Before he says anything, he shrugs. That damn fucking shrug. In my state of mind, it’s attractive. “I don’t really care,” that’s it. I’m convinced. I needed him to say something else, but that’s ultimately the answer I hoped for. “Me neither.”

I practically jump onto him, straddling him and crashing my lips onto his. The softness, yet passion, against my lips is something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt. This should feel wrong. Only, as JJ’s hands smooth up and down my body before sitting on my waist, it couldn’t feel more right. Without a second thought, I glide my tongue into his mouth. I can sense it takes him by surprise. The most attractive moan escapes him, which I can imagine was not intentional. The kiss proceeds to get more and more intimate. Somehow we just move in sync. He slowly lays back, our lips not separating once before he’s fully beneath me. Maybe JJ was previously holding back, but a rush of ‘horny teenage boy’ suddenly rushes over him. Both hands go to my ass. As much as I don’t want to fall apart under his touch so fast, the immense pleasure radiates through my body. I break away from his kiss slightly and moan massively into his mouth.

We stop kissing for a second. Our heavy breaths bounce against each other. It’s a strange moment to be in. Was this always bound to happen at some point? “Should we stop?” Confusion hits as he speaks those words, and yet he proceeds to trail kisses down my neck. I push his head down onto the pillow with my right hand cupping his chin, bringing my face close enough to his that our noses are pretty much touching. “Do you want to?” I simple ask. I’d be almost offended by his words, but only if his hands weren’t grinding me down onto his crotch. Perhaps it’s a guilty conscience. We are both massively likely to regret this in the morning. We are also likely to get caught and get grief from our small circle of friends. They are good enough reasons to stop. They are good enough reasons for this to have never started to happen in the first place. They just don’t amount to one thing, and that’s that I want this right now. His head begins to move side to side. I can’t help but begin to smile massively. “Then shut up and fuck me.”

It was as if that was a jump start. JJ’s manly hands flip us over immediately. I let out a giggle as he begins to undo his shorts. The speed of the removal of both his shorts and boxers was impressive. They get thrown wherever they go. My eyes quickly glance at his penis, before looking back up to his eyes. I suck in my bottom lip before pulling him back down to kiss me again. This shouldn’t be this easy. His tongue slides back into my mouth, battling with mine for dominance, all too easily. I’m not even a little bit nervous... until I feel his fingertips glide up under my dress. He hooks his finger under the waist band of my thong and does nothing for too long. It might’ve only been seconds, but those seconds were some of the longest seconds of my life. He pulls them off ever so slowly. I was becoming a literal puddling mess beneath him.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows he has me wrapped around his finger right now. His tongue plays against mine skillfully; slow and passionate. He’s doing everything right. Once my underwear finally reaches my feet, I just can’t hold it back anymore. “Are you done teasing me now?” I practically beg. I’m soaked, a mess, and almost fully sober. If anything, I wanted this more now than I did when we started. My heart continues racing, but I stay composed and reach over into my bedside table. I rip it open. I simply hold his shaft with two fingers. JJ takes a deep breath in. Fuck. He watches my hand roll the condom down with his mouth slightly open. “Time to break some Pogue rules,” he whispers before lining himself up. I should not be this ready for this.

Even with just the tip, I could’ve come apart then and there. I haven’t had sex in months. Whether you believe me or not, I had not imagined it would to be JJ Maybank who I was going to break my ‘no boys’ commitment to myself with. When he begins inserting himself inside me, I realise this is actually happening. The slow, easy slide in had me in pieces. I was already moaning and he wasn’t even moving properly yet. He stops. “This-” I pause to steady my breath. My entire being is, dare I say it, excited. “This has to stay between us,” I compose myself. Although this is a one time thing, it has potential to ruin a hell of a lot. So, even as I wrap my legs around his body, we have to make this promise. “Scouts honour.” He brings his pinky up to me. Kissing the backs of our hands, it was sealed.

He starts pulling out slowly, making my jaw gradually open wider and wider. He pauses before pushing back in. His eyes lock with mine, and he smiles cheekily. I’m not certain what that smile means, but I can sure take a guess. There is a part of me that wants to stop. Nothing’s really happened yet. But no part of me actually wants to. When he pushes himself back inside me, my fingers spread into his hair. His lips land back on mine, my tongue swirls around his like it’s an everyday activity. I pull gently on his hair as he begins steadying a pace. “Shit,” I moan against his lips.

Fingertips glide across my thigh, tracing patterns and sending my stomach into spirals. I couldn’t hook my legs around him tighter if I tried. The wave of tremendous pleasure of each thrust was like a drug. Every time his body collided with mine I wanted more. I needed more. To feel this, in this moment, with JJ was wrong. So why doesn’t it feel that way? His lips leave mine slowly, tracing kisses across my cheek until his lips land near my ear. “You feel so fucking good,” the vibrations of a deep husky moan forces a moan out of me. His teeth latch around my ear lobe, sucking down before moving down to my neck.

The friskiness of JJ’s lips and tongue is like motivation. With strength I didn’t know I had, and confidence in myself I thought I’d lost, I push against JJ and flip us over. Lust fills his eyes. I just sit there, only for a second, actually liking the way JJ is looking at me. Yes, it’s because I’m straddling him half naked. It’s still nice. His hands squeeze the tops of both of my thighs as well as moving up to my hips... then my ass. It was as if he pressed fast forwards.

I move my body up to start thrusting onto him again, with his helping hands guiding back down. “Fuck JJ,” I moan, leaning forwards to bring my face close to his. My moans become more and more prominent between our kisses. The hands, that remain on my ass cheeks, remain strong and steady. The way he still controlled my body, even though I was on top, was such a turn on. I reach for the headboard. If there wasn’t a party going on downstairs I think everyone would be hearing us loud and clear. The bed starts making a rather persistent squeaking noise. I let out a laugh-moan when the headboards makes a ‘one time’ bang against the wall. I could tell, with the way I was grinding myself down onto him, he was close. What a relief!

“I’m so close,” I moan against his lips in a muffled whisper. Although my body grew tired, JJ continues helping my body thrust up and down. The knot in my stomach started to tighten. My heart rate increases quite a bit. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good around me!” His fingers grow stronger against my hips as he came closer and closer to finishing. Even with his grip being quite forceful, all I could feel was an astonishing amount of pleasure flushing through my body. The release felt like a long time coming. Once I started to let go around him, it only took seconds for JJ to reach his climax too. With his help, we ride out our highs. I grow slower and slower, until both of our climaxes finished. My heart is racing. I lift my body with the last piece of energy I had. My sensitive core flinches as he pulls out from me once more. Collapsing onto him, I fall into the crevice on his arm all too well. “Shit,” I mumble. I don’t think it’ll actually sink in until tomorrow. I’m too scared to punch myself in case I don’t wake up. “That was... uh...” he doesn’t even need to finish his sentence. “I know.”

The next morning

I wake up in a strange yet awfully familiar place. The walls, the blanket, and the view outside my window are all home. The curtains weren’t drawn last night. When I roll over, there’s something that shouldn’t be familiar. I set eyes on a naked JJ sleeping soundly next to me. My eyes widen. I can’t help but sit up drastically fast. I first find my thong. As quietly as I can, I open a drawer beside my bed and rummage for a t shirt. I find one and put it on, only to turn and see JJ’s eyes staring my way.

“Morning sunshine,” he smirks. His bed hair sticks up in every direction. I notice his boxers across the room so I stand and throw them his way. I watch as his face changes, but the proud smirk on his face remains. “We fucked last night,” he chuckles, standing to put his boxers on. I press my top and bottom lips together. “Don’t look too impressed with yourself,” using the hairband around my wrist, I quickly whip my hair up into a ponytail. My legs make their way to stand next to the boy. “It was better than I’d imagined it,” he adds. I backhand him on the arm. “Hey!” His eyes are warming. This is when I realise that I don’t regret it. At least, not half as much as I thought I would. It’s not even awkward. Part of me automatically assumed it would be. “Right,” I clap my hands together. “Are you ready to clean a house?” I ask. His rolling eyes scream loudly. Before he can even protest, I butt in. “This is your party, your mess. You’re lucky I’m gonna help you!”

With each step down the stairs, more of my messy house is revealed to me. “If anything’s broken, you’re replacing it,” I warn him. Red cups, empty beer bottles, even clothing was scattered across the floor. I start imagining the way people probably started behaving when JJ and I went upstairs. What if people fucked on... well... anywhere?! “I think we should just go back upstairs,” JJ suggests. This is going to take so long to clean. I feel JJ’s hand slap against my ass. “It’s never happening again,” I say simply. Yes, it was pretty amazing. No, I do not regret it. No, it should never happen again because our friends will kill us. “Whatever you say babe.”

Click here if you’re interested in reading PART TWO

[vizkopa]

Three Ways to Study Anatomy (Ace x Reader x Sabo) College!AU PART 1.5

Three Ways to Study Anatomy, Part 1: The Usual Way

Chapter Five: TGIF

~

“I’m sorry, what?”

“A party! Our friend Law is in a fraternity and they’re throwing a party tonight to celebrate.”

Week one of semester was over, and you had been planning on spending your Friday night relaxing and maybe bingeing something on Netflix, but Nami had other plans.

“But it’s only the first week,” you said in disbelief. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

Nami chuckled. “The end of the first week of course. And don’t say you have homework. One night of fun won’t hurt.”

You snapped your mouth shut because you had just about to say that you did, indeed, have homework. There went your only good excuse out the window. “I don’t know, I’m not really the partying type…”

“Awh, come on, [Name]! It’s good to let your hair down every once in a while. Have some fun while you can!”

“But I won’t know anyone there.”

“You’ll know me. Also Vivi and Rebecca are coming. And Ace and the guys wouldn’t miss one of Law’s frat parties for anything. Come ooon, it’ll be fun!”

You sighed, pretending you hadn’t just perked up when you learned Ace and Sabo would be there. “I… guess I could take one night off…”

“YES!” You almost jumped at Nami’s outburst, then she gasped loudly and you almost jumped again. “We need to find you an outfit. I’ll let you borrow one of mine free of charge since it’s your first ever college party. If you spill anything on it though, the dry cleaning bill is on you.” She began rummaging in her closet, pulling out items one after the after until she had a small pile growing on the bed.

After saying no to every ridiculously short skirt and party dress Nami threw at you, you finally consented to a pair of jeans that, while they covered you completely, were so skin tight they leaved little to the imagination, and a top that showed far too much midriff for your liking, but was far more modest than the alternatives. Nami topped off the look with a pair of strappy heels and nodded approvingly as you examined yourself in the mirror.

“Not bad.”

You smiled at her over your shoulder. You had to admit, you looked hot. “Not bad at all,” you agreed.

* * * * *

You could hear the party before you had even turned onto the street—loud, thumping bass and raucous laughter drifted on the September breeze and you felt a sudden surge of apprehension. Nami seemed to have read your face because she put a reassuring hand on your knee.  

“Hey, if you want to leave at any point, just let me know, ‘kay?”

You nodded, though you wondered what would happen if you just refused to get out of the Uber and went home instead.

The two of you were met with cries of greeting as you walked up to the door. You recognised a face or two here and there from some of your classes, but otherwise, they were all strangers to you. The bass from the music pounded your eardrums as you squeezed through the door and into the crowded hallway. Immediately, a solo cup full of some amber liquid was pushed into your hand by a random passer-by and you were bombarded with a flurry of introductions that went by so fast, you wouldn’t have been able to commit any of them to memory even if you could hear them over the music. Nami was quickly whisked away in the direction of the living room and you suddenly found yourself alone in a throng of almost-strangers.

You lifted the solo cup to your lips in hopes of soothing some of the nerves, but not a second later, the drink was plucked from your hand. You looked up, angry, but met the brown eyes and freckled face of Ace, and your frown immediately disappeared. He set the cup on a side table and handed you an unopened bottle of beer instead.

“Rule number one of frat parties: never drink something you didn’t pour yourself.”

You gaped at him. “But why would…”

“Trust me, some of these college guys have some not so innocent intentions.” Then his face split into a smile that left you breathless. “Good thing I’m here, huh? Let’s dance!”

Before you could come up with an excuse not to make a fool of yourself, he was tugging you into the crowd of gyrating bodies by the hand. You had no idea what you were doing, but Ace didn’t seem to care, laughing at your weak attempts to dance without spilling your beer. The warm, dancing bodies around you bumped and buffeted you into him so there was barely an inch of space between you and you hoped you could pass off your flushed cheeks as simple exertion, or maybe the beer you were working through perhaps a little too quickly.

It was nerve-wracking, being in the midst of so many drunk and excitable people, but with the alcohol warming your veins, and Ace’s comforting hand on your waist or your shoulder whenever the crowd threatened to swallow you up, you started to enjoy yourself. It was many songs later, long after Ace had been swept away by an extremely pretty and insistent girl, did you decide to make your way to the edge of the dance floor. Flushed and a little lightheaded, you looked around for someone—anyone—you recognised.

“Want some air?” said a voice by your ear. You turned to find Sabo in a button down shirt that showed far too much of his chest to be good for you in your current state. He held out a cold beer in offering. You nodded gratefully and took it, and let him lead you between the drunken frat boys and dancing sorority girls until you reached the front porch. You took a deep breath of cool, night air and the spinning in your head seemed to slow down a fraction.

You were having a hard time getting the memory of Ace’s hand on the bare skin of your waist out of your head.

When you opened your eyes, Sabo was watching you with a half-smile tugging at his lips. He looked away hastily when you noticed him staring and he gazed out over the front yard, littered with people smoking and making out on the lawn.

“So… having fun?” he asked.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you replied, honestly.

He chuckled at that. “I didn’t take you for a party person. But, then again, I didn’t think I was until college either.”

“I’m not, really,” you insisted. “Nami made me come.”

Sabo smiled knowingly. “Didn’t look like you were protesting just now.” He gestured inside.

You flushed. “Yeah, well… alcohol makes you do things you normally wouldn’t…” As if to emphasise your point, a very drunk and very naked frat boy streaked across the lawn, shouting the name of the college football team.

You both burst out laughing and when you finally calmed down, Sabo said:

“In all seriousness though, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Even if you’re not the partying type, it’s good to relax and forget about school every once in a while. I think we’d all go crazy if we didn’t”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, smiling at him. It was just now that you realised in the moments you had both spent doubled over in laughter, the two of you had drawn closer to each other.

“Just don’t overdo it. The number of times I’ve walked in on Ace dancing shirtless on tables…”

That got you going again and you found yourself leaning against each other as you giggled incessantly. When you calmed down you felt warm and a little sleepy. Sabo’s shoulder was pressed tightly against yours as you both leaned on the railing and looked out into the night, unbothered by the muffled bass and babble from the party. As much as you liked dancing with Ace, you wouldn’t mind just staying out here for the rest of the night in the pleasant glow of your tipsiness.

It took you a while to notice Sabo watching you from the corner of his eye. You smiled at him, taking in his blown pupils, his relaxed stance. He didn’t act drunk, but he seemed as pleasantly buzzed as you were and the smile he shot back made your heart flutter inside your chest. He opened his mouth to say something, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, but before he could, the front door burst open.

“Sabo! Country Girl! There you are. Come join us for a game—oh. I’m not interrupting something, am I?”

You and Sabo hastily stepped away from each other. “Not at all. A game sounds fun,” said Sabo. “That is, if [Name] wants to?”

He looked at you imploringly and for a moment, you felt the urge to refuse Ace and stay outside with Sabo all night. But you didn’t like the way Ace was glancing between the two of you with a knowing smirk, so you tamped the urge back down and shrugged.

“Sure.”

Ace led you inside and back through the party, but this time, he led you up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. You wondered briefly whether you were allowed to be up here, but then saw that the room was filled with faces you recognised. Nami, Vivi, Rebecca, Sanji and Zoro were there, along with a couple of people you hadn’t met yet. Or maybe you had, you just didn’t remember it in the flurry of your arrival.

“Law, Country Girl, Country Girl, Law,” Ace offered lazily, waving his hand at a guy with black hair and a goatee seated on the bed.

“[Name],” you corrected and Law nodded. He wasn’t what you had expected from a frat boy at all. He seemed quiet, reserved, and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, but he was smiling good naturedly. He gestured to the unfamiliar faces either side of him, one with scruffy red hair and the other wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

“This is Shachi and Penguin.”

You nodded to each of them in turn and they grinned broadly at you. You looked around for a place to sit and chose a spot on the floor beside Nami, who beamed at you as you sat down. Sabo made to take his place next to you but Ace got there first. Sabo frowned slightly, but Ace pretended not to notice as he turned to face the room. His smile was devious.

“So, what shall we be playing tonight?”

“Well…” said Nami with an identical smirk. “I was thinking, since we have a few newbies with us tonight, we should all get to know each other a little better.” She reached behind her and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

“It’s time for some ‘Never Have I Ever’.”

[amylillian22]

Friends Don’t (Part 1) - Chris Evans Imagine

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: None. Drunk Chris? PURE FLUFF!

Author’s Note: I was inspired by Maddie & Tae’s song, “Friends Don’t”

Part 2: Trying On Rings

"Y/N, hold up," I stopped in my tracks and turned around to see Chris walking towards me, a smile growing wider with each step he took.

"Hey, Chris," my smile matched his. "What's up?"

"I just felt like saying hi." His blue eyes somehow managed to sparkle bright at night, putting the stars in the night sky to shame. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," I said back still holding his gaze with mine.

"Umm, hello to you too, Chris," Scarlett said, chuckling.

"Hey Scarlett." His eyes still hadn't left mine. "What are you guys up to?"

"I have to get home to my baby girl. She's having a slumber party tonight for her birthday..."

I don't know what else Scarlett said. She was rambling on about her daughter's party. As much as I love my goddaughter, looking into Chris blue eyes were far more interesting. I couldn't help it. They were so mesmerizing. They consumed me.

"Clearly you guys didn't hear a word I said, so I'm gonna go," Scarlett turned on her heel and left us alone in the middle of the parking lot.

"Got any plans tonight?" I asked.

He nodded his head. "Tom Holland's bachelor party is tonight."

"Geez, it seems like just yesterday he was just a kid. I can't believe he's getting married now."

"I'm lowkey scared to find out what's in store tonight" he chuckled. "What about you? Any plans?"

"Nope. Although I might crash a 6 year's old slumber party. I heard her mother converted her basement into a killer wine cellar," I joked.

"I could skip the bachelor party and we can do something together," he immediately offered.

"No," I immediately protested despite wanting to hang out with him. "Tom needs you and he'd probably kill me for making you miss his party."

He chuckled. "You might be right," he slid his hand in his front dark jean pocket and pulled out his car keys. He began to swing them around his finger, playing with them. Stalling.

I looked back into his eyes. We stood there for minutes, without saying a word. Not that we needed to. It was a nice, comfortable silence. A breeze hit my arms and caused me to shiver.

"Here," Chris began to take off his black leather jacket.

"I shouldn't."

"It's fine," he said as he held it up. I slid in my arms and wrapped it around myself.

Chris hands rested on my shoulders and took a step towards me. "It looks good on you."

"Thanks," I whispered, pretending his gentle touch wasn't burning through the fabric of his jacket and giving my heart a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"Come on. Let me walk you to your car," he led the way.

He leaned in for a hug and promised he would call me tomorrow. I told him to please be safe before he drove off to meet the guys at the first bar for Tom's bachelor party.

As I sat in the driver's seat, I wrapped myself in Chris' jacket again. I pulled in the collar and the smell of the cologne I got him for his previous birthday met my nose. My lips slowly smiled knowing he uses the Dolce & Gabbana bottle I got him.

***

Scarlett poured some red wine in my glass as we heard a group of girls giggling upstairs. "Remember when you're were that little?" She asked me.

I nodded as she poured red wine in her glass. "To be that young and innocent again, and not have to worry about real life and adulting."

Before Scarlett could agree with me, my phone rang. I furrowed my eyebrows as I saw a picture of Chris on my screen. I was confused. I'd assume he would be having a good time at the bachelor party. So why would he be calling me?

"Y/NNNNNNNN!!!" Chris slurred before letting out a deep fit of giggles.

I giggled as well knowing he was already reached his limit. "Are you okay?"

"I'm feeling good! I'm perfectly fineeee," he answered. "I just wanted to say I looooooove you."

My eyes widen as he's never admitted that to me. Not even in a platonic way.

"Hey, Y/N," Tom Holland spoke through the phone. "I'm sorry he called you. He's clearly had one too many and we're only at the second bar."

"Is he okay?" I asked, slightly worried Chris might continue to drink more tonight and would without a doubt regret it tomorrow morning.

"Actually, would you mind picking him up?" He asked. "I really do appreciate him coming out tonight, but I think he needs someone to take him home. Truthfully, everyone else is drinking and I rather have someone we both trust than ordering him a Lyft."

"Not a problem. Send me the location and I'll be there as soon as possible." I hung up the phone and started getting up.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Scarlett asked with worry.

"That was Drunk Chris and Tom. Tom asked me to pick up Chris. He's a bit too tipsy. Thank goodness I haven't even had a sip yet," I carefully slid my glass of wine on the table and in front of Scarlett.

"Aww, man" Scarlett whined. "I love Drunk Chris and I'm gonna miss it! He admits to just about anything. Oh!" She smiled widely. "Maybe he'll admit he has feelings for you!"

I decided not to tell her what he said. Instead, I rolled my eyes. "We're just friends."

"Yeah, right. Friends don't call you in the middle of the night, let alone in the middle of a bachelor party. He could have called anyone, but he didn't. He called you."

I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Within 15 minutes, I picked up Chris in front of the bar. He had two water bottles in his hands and chugged one as soon as he sat in my car. I took the long way home. I had the radio on a country station. Maddie & Tae's "Friends Don't" was playing softly as Chris began to sober up a bit.

We talked about the bachelor party, which led to talking about what our bachelorette and bachelor parties would be like whenever each of us got engaged. Chris asked me if I dreamt about my wedding day since I was a little girl. He laughed when I told him I used to use a pillow case as a veil and would take turns with my teddy bears to play my groom.

By the time he sat on my couch, Chris seemed to be sober.

"Here you go," I handed him two Advil pills and a new water bottle. "It'll prevent getting a hangover in the morning just in case."

"Thank you," he said after he swallowed the pills. He let out a small sigh. "I'm so sorry about tonight. I didn't mean to interrupt your night, let alone make you go out of your way to pick me up," he apologized.

"Hey," he turned to face me. "It's okay. Plus, I kind of glad you called me."

"Really?" He asked a bit surprised.

I repeated Scarlett's words. "You could have called anyone, and you called me. And..." I trailed nervously. "If I'm being honest, I like that you thought of me first."

"I always do," he admitted as he gazed into my eyes. "You're always the first person I think of with just about anything."

"So, Umm, I know we're friends, but," I looked down as I fiddled with my fingers, "do you remember what you said when you called me?"

My heart thundered against my chest as he stayed quiet. I silently told myself this might be nothing.

Chris scooted closer and placed his hand on top of fiddling fingers. I looked up to him and his eyes immediately locked with mine. My body was covered in goosebumps as his touch sent chills throughout my entire body.

One look in his eyes and I know there's something between us. He could lie to me and say there's nothing. That we're just friends, but I know he loves me and I love him too.

"I know I was drunk, but I meant it." His hand cupped my cheek, "And, friends don't say 'I love you'."

"You're right. Friends don't say that," I said as my lips widen.  I leaned in and before I kissed him, I whispered against his lips, "Thank goodness we're not just friends because I love you too."

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 13

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: HELLOHELLOHELLO. Thank you all for your lovely feedback on the past few chapters. I am so glad y’all are as attached to these characters as I am, and hearing how much you love them really gets me in the mood to write. Keep doing that, please. ;) And when you’re done, pls find your local bail fund and donate if you have the resources. Xoxoxo

“God, yeh smell so good.” Harry nudged the door shut with his toe and gripped an edge of Melody’s towel. She clung to the fabric, pressing it to her chest.

“Harry,” she warned, though there wasn’t a note of authority in her voice. Her skin was already tingling where his fingertips brushed her thigh.

“Mel,” he retorted in a flat voice. He took a step forward, until she could feel his body heat radiating through the back of her towel. And before she could escape his grip, there were lips grazing her shoulder, a hand folding her wet hair away from her neck. Harry inhaled the scent of her soap and grasped her hip, pulling her against him.

In the past few weeks, since Harry had developed enough strength in his legs to take the lead in bed, he’d been relentless. And this week he’d forgone his cane completely. He still wasn’t satisfied with where he was at, but it was enough for Melody, especially when her rib made it nearly impossible for her to do much more than lay there. And she was having trouble denying his requests for “physical therapy.”

“Harry,” she repeated as his mouth worked its way up the side of her neck. His hand slipped through the gap in her towel and pressed to the bottom of her belly. She was already thinking about the way he’d felt last night, when he’d had to take it slow because Bea was in the living room. Slow didn’t mean gentle, he’d reminded her. Her thighs still ached.

“We don’t have time.”

“We could just stay here,” he mumbled against her ear. She shivered. “Let me fuck yeh into next year.”

“No,” she whispered, though it was weary. Her fingers were growing loose around her towel. “No, I—”

“Just say your rib’s hurtin’ yeh too bad, yeah?”

“Harry,” she whined, and it was a testament to her willpower that she was able to pull away from him. Her heart was hammering wildly against her tender ribcage. “Later. Please.” She took a breath just deep enough that it wouldn’t bother her injury as she turned around. “Please,” she repeated.

Harry looked put out. He tipped his head back and sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, later. Sure.”

“I’m sorry,” she told him.

“Mel, shut up,” he said with a chuckle.

She smiled and took a step closer to him, rising onto her toes to deliver a slow kiss to his lips. He groaned into her mouth and hooked an arm around her waist.

“Is it later already?”

She laughed, slipping out of his hold with a final peck. “Not even close.”

“Fine. Can yeh put some clothes on, then? Before I change my mind.” There was a smirk on his lips, but the words sounded distinctly threatening. Melody wasn’t taking any chances. She slipped around him and began to rifle through the closet without another word.

***

In the years that he’d lived in this city, Harry had never seen Brute’s so full. The bar was so packed with people that they were overflowing into the street, dancing near the entrance to the warehouse despite the cold December weather.

“Of all the places to spend New Year’s Eve,” Harry muttered beneath his breath.

“Josie is working,” Melody reminded him from where she clung to his arm.

Harry rolled his eyes, facing away from her so that she wouldn’t see. Bea might have begun to grow on him, but Josie had not. And he still didn’t like Bea enough to spend a holiday at Brute’s just so she could be near her girlfriend.

Any other bar would have been crawling with cops if there were this many people drinking out in the street. But this area was safe from their slimy hands thanks to Goodman. Which also meant that anything could happen tonight and the police wouldn’t be there to help. Harry was surprised to realize that after everything they’d done to him, to Melody, he found their lack of presence unsettling.

“I saw that,” Bea whispered when Melody wasn’t paying attention. Harry had almost forgotten she was walking with them.

“Saw what?”

She laughed. “You judge people very harshly before you get to know them.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Melody interjected.

“Yeah, sure. Double team me.”

“Oh,” Bea said with a goofy giggle, “you wish, honey.”

Melody grinned across Harry and then gave his arm a discreet squeeze. If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d say that they were both already tipsy, but it was only the prospect of getting drunk that had the two girls happy and teasing. As far as he knew, Melody hadn’t had a sip of alcohol since he’d moved in at the end of September. He wasn’t sure whether that meant tonight would be fun or dangerous.

“Excuse me,” Bea shouted over the music when they reached the door to the bar, though she wasn’t nearly as polite when she began to shove people out of their way. Melody followed the path that Bea plowed and pulled Harry along behind her.

Harry could feel eyes on him. Not all of them, but a lot. People who had been going to fights since before he’d ended up in his coma, people who frequented Brute’s. Many of them didn’t seem to recognize him at first with his new haircut and thinner build, but there were a few double takes and then heads drawing together to talk about him like he couldn’t see them. He could feel himself stiffening. This felt so foreign. He’d never been in Brute’s with Melody like this, with her hanging off of him. The last time they’d been here together, he’d still been pretending to be completely disinterested in her.

“What’s wrong?” Melody asked. Harry lowered his eyes to find her staring up at him. Her hand slid down his arm to intertwine their fingers.

“Nothin’s wrong. Just feels weird.”

“It does,” she agreed. That was when he noticed that some of the eyes weren’t just watching him, but also Melody. He remembered for the first time that these people probably knew her better than they knew him, that they were betting on her on Friday nights now. It almost made his skin crawl.

Melody, already in heels, stood on her toes. Her hair tickled Harry’s chin as he tipped forward enough for her to speak into his ear. “Don’t close up on me, please,” she said. “I want to spend tonight with you. Have fun with me.”

Harry’s eyes wandered the bar behind her. Bea was leaning against the counter, but Josie was swamped with customers and the other bartender, who he’d never seen before, was actively avoiding her. Melody pressed her free hand to his chest, where the top few buttons of his shirt were popped, and her thumb stroked the skin over his heart. “Harry?” she prompted.

“Okay,” he mumbled back to her. “Okay, love. ‘M right here. ‘M with yeh.” He felt her grin stretch against his cheek.

“I would give you a kiss but I don’t think you want my lipstick all over your face.”

Harry grunted. Melody leaned forward just briefly until he felt her chest press against him, and then lowered back onto her heels. Her eyes glinted when she looked up at him. “Drinks?” she shouted. He nodded.

They slipped their way in beside Bea, who was still waiting for Josie to make her way over.

“Why are there so many girls here?” Harry asked as he peered around the place once more. This was not the typical crowd. Although you could find anyone at the matches, Brute’s usually only drew in fighters, old men, and guys looking for trouble.

“When Melody convinced Goodman to do women’s fights, she kind of brought in a whole new demographic,” Bea answered. “This place is packed nine times out of ten.”

When Melody convinced Goodman... That sent Harry for a loop. He’d been too unsettled by Melody boxing to learn about any of the logistics. He couldn’t imagine her having an actual conversation with Goodman, let alone proposing a new business venture.

Harry was jostled by a group of guys that looked like they belonged in a fraternity. He caught Melody’s hip before he slammed her into the bar top and glared at the group as it wandered across the room.

“Thank God!” Bea yelled when Josie finally stood in front of them. Melody tapped Harry’s hand and he let go of her. “Who do I have to fuck to get a drink around here?”

“A kiss will work just fine, sweetheart.”

Josie leaned over the bar top and Bea pressed their lips together, sneaking a hand around the back of her neck. Harry turned away. He felt like he was intruding. When he looked back, Josie was pouring out drinks for the three of them. She set a glass of whiskey down in front of him. He kept forgetting how many times she had served him drinks before he’d actually learned her name.

“We’re way over capacity!” Josie yelled, gesturing wildly about the room. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and fanned the back of her neck. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. Go to a club or something.”

Harry was all for that. However much clubs weren’t his setting, any amount of space and air would be better than this sweaty room. Melody’s hair was beginning to stick to her shoulders.

“No,” she shouted back, “we’ll stay! It’s fine.” She began to strip off her coat and Bea followed suit. Harry didn’t take off his jacket until she nudged him, and Josie took the coats to hide them on the other side of the bar.

Josie grinned and leaned over to kiss Bea one more time before she ambled down the bar for the next awaiting customer. Melody lifted a mojito to her lips. Bea sipped something bright red. Harry pushed a hand through his hair. For the first time, he was glad that it didn’t reach his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stand it in here if there were strands sticking to his neck like Melody’s was to hers. He lifted his whiskey to take a swig, grateful for the extra ice cube that Josie had added.

“One of my film friends is supposed to be here,” Bea said, taking another large gulp of her drink and then dabbing the excess from her lips. “I’m gonna go find her. I’ll see you in a little bit. Stay safe!” she shouted. She kissed Melody on the cheek and then began to work her way through the crowd.

“Just you and me.” Melody grinned up at Harry.

“Coulda just stayed home then, huh?”

She pouted. There it was again. That silly expression, like she was already feeling booze in her blood. He downed the rest of his drink as the man sitting on the stool closest to them shuffled out of view. Harry set his glass down and ushered Melody onto the seat.

“What if I wanted to dance?” she asked as she settled back on the stool.

“Tha’s what I was afraid of.”

“Why? You don’t wanna dance with me?”

“Again,” Harry reminded her, a smile on his lips despite himself, “I don’ dance, love. And last time yeh pinned me against a wall, if I remember right.”

Melody drained a large mouthful of her drink to stifle her laughter. She turned toward him and tugged him to stand between her legs, blocking anyone’s view up the skirt of her dress.

“Were you mad about it?” she asked, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her over the din of the bar. Her fingers curled into his belt at his hip to keep him from backing away from her.

“Absolutely livid,” he said.

“Oh, sorry.” Melody finished her drink and set down her glass. She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Give me another chance?”

“I don’ dance. I do not like to dance, Mel.”

Her eyes lit up with something mischievous and she opened her mouth, but someone else spoke before she could.

“Styles, right?”

Harry turned his head and found a man standing beside them, brows knitted together.

“Do I know you?”

“No, I just go to a lot of matches. Sorry to hear what happened to you, man, but I’m glad to see you on your feet. My friends and I can’t wait to see you back in the ring.”

Harry felt Melody’s hand fall from his belt. He took a step backward, straightening up, and nodded. “Yeah, I can’ wait to start fightin’ again.”

“All right, well I’ll be front row at your first match. Fights are kinda boring without you.” The man’s eyes flickered to Melody and then widened. “Except for the women’s. Those are always good.”

Harry watched her give him a tight-lipped smile before the man wandered back into the hordes of people. Melody was silent and when Harry turned back to the bar he found that his whiskey had been refilled without him noticing. He took a drink. When he returned his attention to her, Melody was toying with the hem of her dress.

“Maybe Josie’s not so bad,” he said, sliding Melody’s fresh mojito across the counter toward her.

“She’s great.”

Harry discreetly brought his hand to the outside of her knee, pressing it toward the other. She hadn’t thought about the fact that Harry had backed up and left the view of her skirt open. He could feel eyes pressing on them from every direction, and though she looked incredible, Melody was one of the most recognizable and dressed up people in the bar. She crossed her ankles and spun around on her stool, away from his hand, to sip her drink.

“Did I do somethin’?” he asked after another quiet minute.

Melody sighed. “No. No, I just—” she turned toward him again and shook her head. “No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Wha’s wrong, then?”

Her tongue swiped across the bright hue of her lipstick. “Will you kiss me?”

Harry frowned. “What, at midnight or right now?”

“Both.”

Harry glanced around and seemed to understand. She wondered if he was comfortable enough to kiss her with this many people around, so many that might know him, or know of him. So many eyes. He wasn’t, really. It felt like it went against every grain of the reputation he’d built here. But he wasn’t about to disappoint Melody tonight, not when she looked like she did, when she’d made promises for later, when she seemed so optimistic for the coming year.

Harry grasped her jaw and leaned down, connecting their lips. Her lipstick was sweet, somehow. And when she opened her mouth her tongue tasted like mint.

“No,” she whined against his lips when he began to pull away. Her fingers caught the buttons of his shirt.

“Yeh’re fuckin’ relentless when yeh get alcohol into your system,” he mumbled. He gave her one more quick kiss and then pried her hand from him so he could step back. He licked his lips and still tasted the kiss. “Is it on me?”

“Just right here,” she said, reaching up to rub her thumb over the corner of his mouth, removing a smudge of lipstick. Her eyes were shiny when she looked at him and he didn’t know if it was happiness or just the mojitos. He could already feel his head buzzing, and he remembered that he himself hadn’t touched whiskey in almost nine months.

“So, you’re gonna come dance with me?”

Harry sputtered out a humorless laugh. He had made a point of not looking around after he’d kissed her, and now that he did he regretted it. There were more eyes on them than before, more women watching him and more familiar faces that he couldn’t pair with names. He cleared his throat.

“Mel, there’s not even room for dancin’ in here.”

“Sure there is. There’s a dance floor right over there.”

Harry turned in the direction that she was looking. He couldn’t see the floor, but he did see a mass of bodies, sweaty and packed so tightly together they appeared indistinguishable from one another. Nothing but a mass of limbs.

“Are yeh serious?” He drained his second whiskey with a wince. “Yeh wanna get us trapped in that?”

“Is it really trapped if you’re with me?” she asked with a goofy, wide grin. She was sliding off of her stool before he could answer her, tugging her skirt back into place. “Please, Harry? Humor me.”

“Thought I already was.”

Her lips turned into a frown. She used his hips to prop herself up and speak into his ear again. “I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

Harry sighed. She could be persuasive when she wanted to. “Should yeh even be dancin’ with your rib?”

“I feel fine,” she told him. He suspected she felt better after her drinks. Her fingers curled into his belt again and began to drag him away from the bar.

“Mel,” he hissed, “if yeh make me do this I swear to God I will keep yeh up all night.”

She grinned. Her teeth looked sharp and her fingers only tightened around his belt. “You need better threats.”

Harry’s mind raced with thoughts of later and before he knew it, they were bumping into the bodies on the dance floor. He caught Melody’s hip to keep her from backing right into the chest of some lone creep in the middle of the crowd. She mistook his hand for an invitation and pressed herself against him, hands on his waist. Even without trying, the jostling of the people around them made it look like the two of them were dancing.

“Did I tell you,” Melody began, pulling herself up so that he could hear her, “how good you look?” Her fingers curled into the sides of his shirt for emphasis. It was white, a color she wasn’t used to seeing on him, and also more fitted than all of the older clothes that he’d been wearing, now that he had less muscle mass.

“No, but yeh’ve been starin’ at me since I got dressed.”

She smiled and pushed back the hair that had fallen across his forehead. A smirk that she might have found infuriating at other times snaked its way onto his lips and she tilted her head.

“Harry, are you drunk?” she asked in surprise.

“No, absolutely not.” He shook his head and his hair fell right back into place, but his smirk turned into a thin smile. “Just buzzed, not drunk.”

Melody let her head fall back as she laughed. Harry watched her hair fall behind her and then curled his hand into a fist at her back as she began to move her hips against his. He could feel the beat of the music in his feet and the beat of his blood in the rest of his body. Melody grinned again as his knuckles rapped against her spine.

“No one is watching us right now,” she said. “No one can see us in the middle of all these people. Pretend it’s just us. Pretend we’re alone.”

Easier said than done. Harry could feel someone bumping against his back, hear voices from every angle. He smelled beer and sweat. But one of Melody’s hands looped around the side of his neck and her head fell forward, and his hand opened against the small of her back. He might have felt dizzy if she wasn’t so solid in front of him.

Melody kept her face lowered when Harry began to dance with her finally, for the first time ever. She thought she was imagining his movements at first, but her eyes caught the twist of his hip and she felt his chest shift beneath her shoulder. Her thumb skimmed the spot just behind his ear, where she could feel his hammering pulse.

Harry’s hands grabbed at her hips, ran up the length of her back until he could tangle his fingers in the ends of her damp hair. Even Melody never thought that she’d get him to relax this much. She gasped against his shirt when she felt him grab onto her backside and pull her even closer. And then his fingers detached her hand from his neck. He spun her around. She staggered and he caught her back in his arms, her shoulder blades to his chest.

“Thought I was supposed to be the one unsteady on my feet,” he spoke in her ear.

“You caught me off guard.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Didn’ know that was possible.” His arms tightened around her waist and she felt the lightest of kisses to her collarbone.

“Are you sure you only had two drinks?” she asked as she relaxed against him.

“Wha’s that supposed to mean?”

She laughed. When she started dancing again, he moved with her. “I think you had too much.”

“Why? Because ‘m not mad that yeh have me stuffed in this crowd?”

Melody felt his cheek settle against the side of her head. She looped an arm up to comb through his hair and opened her mouth, but his hand shifted up her side and she flinched away from him instead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed, letting her out of his hold. “‘M sorry.”

She shook her head quickly as she laid a very gentle hand over her ribs. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He was bumped forward by the surging mass of bodies and this time he nearly toppled her over. She caught him by his chest before they could fall. In the very next moment she crashed toward him, stuttering out a pained breath when her chest met his.

“Yeh okay?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as if he could shield her from everyone else. She nodded. “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.

Harry pulled Melody into his side, the injured rib closest to him so that no one could irritate it more with a stray elbow. He guided her off of the dance floor, and when the rest of the bar seemed equally as full, they made their way out into the street. Melody leaned against one of the windows, so steamed up on the inside that it was nearly opaque. She laughed and Harry frowned as he stepped in front of her.

“Wha’s funny?”

“Nothing. I’m just having a good time.”

“You are?” He glanced back through the door they’d come out of and shook his head. “I could’ve fucked up your rib all over again.”

“Harry, I’m fine.” She shivered as the cold night air started to cool her sweaty skin. “Hey,” she added when his frown only deepened, “I’m okay. I swear. I can barely even feel it anymore.”

“It looks like you two started having fun without me.”

Melody grinned when she caught sight of Sean. Harry watched her face light up. She stepped away from the window to hug him.

“That’s what happens when you’re late,” she said. When she took a step away from Sean and looked to Harry, she found him with his hands in his pockets. “Um, I was just about to head to the bathroom and try to find Bea. Okay? I’ll be back in a second.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sean said with a nod.

Melody exchanged a quick look with Harry and then began the arduous process of carving a path into the bar. Harry hadn’t seen Sean since he’d left the hospital after Melody’s last match. He knew what he was supposed to say, it was getting it out of his mouth that would prove the hardest part. There was nothing but tension-filled silence for a moment.

“Look, mate,” Harry began, drawing his hands back out of his pockets. He curled his fingers tight enough to crack them. “‘M… I didn’ know that yeh called me just…”

Sean was grinning. Harry wanted to smack him.

“I know, man. You’re sorry. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed with a swift nod. “‘M sorry. I just don’ like her in these situations where—” 

“I know, Harry,” Sean interrupted. "I care about her, too. A lot. I do. I know what you mean. But if she wants to keep fighting I can’t stop her and I’m gonna do my best to help her stay in one piece.”

A girl stumbled into the space between Harry and Sean, giggling wildly, catching herself on the windows of the bar. She bounced back out into the street, chasing a friend, throwing the contents of her cup across the pavement. Harry watched her run and then took a deep breath.

“Yeh want a drink?” he asked.

“Yeah, I could go for a drink.”

“Brilliant.”

Harry wandered back into the building with Sean at his heels and they began to press through the throngs of people toward the bar. This time, Josie ignored everyone that had been waiting to get Harry another whiskey and to serve Sean a bottle of beer.

“I deserve a nice tip for this,” she said before hurrying away.

Sean said something that Harry couldn’t quite make out before he took a swig from his beer.

“What?” Harry shouted.

“No cane!” Sean repeated.

“No.” Harry shook his head and glanced down at his feet. “No cane. ‘S fuckin’ bliss bein’ able to actually walk.”

“I’ll bet.”

He said something else that Harry couldn’t hear over the yelling in the bar and then pointed toward the door. Harry nodded. Struggling not to spill his drink, they trailed back outside. Snowflakes were spilling from the sky, so slow and spaced apart that Harry didn’t realize it until one landed on his cheek. It didn’t feel cold enough for there to be snow.

“How’s your mom?”

Harry let a long gust of air trail between his lips. Snowflakes melted as they reached the rim of his glass.

“She’s startin’ another round of chemo.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’ know how the fuck she can stand it.”

Sean shook his head. “‘M sorry, man.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge his words. He only twisted his head to watch the crowds milling about, the group dancing in the strange, fluorescent glow of the single bulb just above the warehouse door. He took a few more gulps from his glass and felt a heat in his belly that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“She’s not even mad anymore,” he said eventually. “She used to be so angry about it. Shoutin’ how it wasn’ fair and just pissed that I had to live with my dad because she was so sick. And now ‘s just another day. ‘S just so casual. ‘Hi, I’m startin’ my next round in a week.’”

Sean didn’t know what to say. He’d talked to Harry about these things in passing, but many times it was like pulling teeth to gain any extra information. And now he was just spilling, overflowing. It could have something to do with the glazed eyes and the drink that sloshed onto the pavement as he moved his arm.

“I fuckin’ hate this,” Harry muttered. “All of it. My mum’s dyin’ and I can’ even help her anymore. ‘M just playin’ house.”

“I don’t think that’s what you’re doing.” Sean shivered in his jacket and wondered how Harry wasn’t bothered by the winter air. “You need time to recover. Melody needs time, too. She doesn’t—”

“Melody.” Harry spun so hard he nearly tripped himself and craned his neck to search through the people in the bar. “Where the fuck did she go?”

“The bathroom, remember?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Tha’s not what I meant. Said she’d be back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sean agreed. And as he watched, a shadow fell over Harry’s face. He froze in place for a few seconds and then his glass of whiskey shattered on the street. Sean glanced down at the shards. When he looked back up, Harry was gone.

The people stuffed into the entrance of the bar toppled sideways into one another as someone bowled past them. Harry closed the distance between the door and Melody in only a few strides, and when he reached her he ripped the frat guy who had been too close for comfort back by the collar of his shirt. The man gasped and then scrambled to maintain his footing. Melody hadn’t seen the interaction, but she’d felt the displacement of air, heard the gasp.

“Harry, no!” Her voice barely carried over the rest of the uproar as heads turned in their direction. 

Harry was already halfway through a swing. His fist connected with the man’s jaw. His fingers sang a high note of pain and it felt like coming home after a journey far away. That feeling was so deep-seated, so familiar. He wanted to yell but his arm was already winding up for another punch and his brain couldn’t organize words quickly enough, so he stayed silent. He hit the guy until he saw blood, then he hit him again. Somewhere, distantly, as though she’d been lost in the crowd, he heard Melody, but he didn’t stop until a set of arms wrapped around his shoulders and hauled him away.

“Stop. Harry, stop! Enough!”

It was Sean’s voice in his ear. Someone cheered and Harry heard applause. He tried to twist back around but Sean jerked him in the direction of the door. “No, go! We’re going outside.”

Somehow Sean overpowered him. Without so much as a step in the other direction, Harry was dragged out into the street. Sean threw him out of his arms and Harry stumbled over his abandoned glass.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Yeh didn’ see—”

“Are you kidding?” Melody fell through the doorway and nearly tripped right into the sparkling shards of whiskey glass. The skirt of her dress was twisted up one leg and a strap was falling off her shoulder, and she looked almost as livid as Harry felt.

“What’s your problem?” Sean asked.

“He was touchin’ her!” Harry threw out an arm. His knuckles felt like they might begin to swell. He pressed his thumb to a few to check how much they stung and pain rippled through his hand. He relished it.

“He was not!” Melody shouted. “He was talking to me, and I’m quite capable of telling him to fuck off by myself!”

“Yeah. Yeh looked real capable from where I was standin’.”

“What, because I didn’t just haul off and hook him?”

“Yeh wanna fight so bad but when—”

“In a ring where the other person wants to fight, too! I’m not gonna start fights with strangers just because they don’t understand what personal space is.”

“He had his fuckin’ hands on yeh. ‘M not blind—”

“No, but you’re drunk.”

Harry reeled back. “What the fuck does that have to do with it? Can still see just fine. Didn’ miss his fuckin’ face, did I?”

“No, you nearly broke his jaw!” Melody shouted.

“Would serve him right.”

Melody heard shuffling behind her and she found a couple friends helping the injured man out of the bar. Blood ran down his chin and stained the chest of his shirt. Harry took a few steps forward and he flinched.

“Stop!” Melody shouted, pressing her hands to Harry’s chest.

“Well, get the fuck outta here, then,” he said, waving at the group of boys. They started down the street and Melody watched Harry’s eyes follow them.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Everyone inside the bar began to count down to midnight. The people outside in the street shouted along. Melody watched as Harry’s bleary eyes hardened in realization, as he avoided meeting her gaze, and then she dropped her hands from his chest.

“Happy New Year!” echoed all around them. Melody dropped her eyes and straightened out her dress. For all the noise around them, the air between her and Harry was painfully quiet. Sean couldn’t stand it.

“So, that was all I was here for,” he said. “I’m going home.” He gave Melody a polite nod when she caught his eye and then tossed his beer into the closest receptacle as he turned to leave.

“Are we leavin’ too?” Harry asked.

Melody curled her hands together to combat the cold that had begun to settle into her fingers. “That’s it?”

“‘M not apologizin’ for what I did, Mel. Yeh can’ just expect me to react calmly to that. I’d do it again if someone else decided to lay a hand on yeh and I really don’ care if that makes yeh mad.”

He was looking directly at her now instead of avoiding eye contact and his gaze was intense. She shivered. He glanced down at her bare legs and let out a breath that fogged in the air.

“‘M sorry that we missed the ball drop,” he said before reaching up to tug at his hair. “I wasn’ tryin’ to fuck up your night.”

Melody felt herself soften. It wasn’t the apology that she was looking for, but it was something. And from Harry, she thought she could accept this small give.

“Are we goin’?” he asked again when he watched her shiver once more. “‘F yeh wanna stay then fine but yeh need your coat out here.”

“No,” she said softly. Her hands curled around her upper arms. She could feel the tip of her nose growing numb. “No, we can go.”

Harry nodded. He let her lead the way back into the bar and through all of the partiers. If he thought that eyes followed the two of them before, now it was as if every head in the building turned their way. People shuffled out of Melody’s path. One man folded his hands behind his back as the two of them passed.

“You’re a menace,” Bea yelled when they reached where she was now sitting at the bar, “you know that? That blood is not gonna come out of the floor.”

Harry tucked his hitting hand into the pocket of his jeans gingerly, so that he wouldn’t scrape his sore knuckles. Melody’s frown deepened.

“Can you get our jackets?”

Bea stretched herself out over the bar top to reach the shelves underneath it and returned with their coats. Melody took both and shook her head so minutely that Harry might not have caught it if he wasn’t watching her.

“Please tell Josie I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, she’s used to it. But I’ll tell her.”

Music continued to blast, people continued to shout and dance as Melody and Harry left the bar the way they’d come. They slid their arms into their coats when they were outside. Harry thought that the adrenaline of fighting might have cleared the alcohol from his system, but the pavement looked like it was rising toward him as he walked.

“Yeh still angry with me?” he asked after they’d been walking for a few minutes.

“No, I’m upset,” she snapped. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Sounds like the same thing when yeh talk like that.”

Melody opened her mouth to respond and gasped instead as she slipped on a patch of ice. Harry grabbed her arm before she could fall but she cried as she jerked herself upright.

“Fuck,” she muttered between her clenched teeth.

“Yeh good?”

“My rib,” she whispered, blinking up at a streetlight. This road, mercifully, was empty, but she could hear voices echoing from the next block.

“Did yeh strain—” Harry cut himself off as Melody walked into his chest, forehead to his bare skin where his shirt was undone. He watched her hands ball into fists at her sides.

“That bad?”

“Don’t patronize me, Harry.”

“‘M not!” He stroked her hair and sighed. “Should be better within the next few weeks, love.”

She grunted against his chest and then pulled away to keep walking. Harry let his hand fall back to his side as he followed her. “Does this mean yeh’re not mad?”

“No, fuck you.”

Harry chuckled. He rapped absentmindedly on the window of a closed restaurant as he passed.

“Talk dirty to me,” he goaded.

Melody stopped dead in her tracks. Harry thought she was going to yell again or actually swing at him. He stopped a few steps behind her.

“You absolute ass.” She turned her head to glare at him and then kept walking. “I’m wearing a new underwear set and you fucking ruined that for me.”

“What?” He sped up his footsteps. “No, I didn’. Didn’ ruin anythin’. I only ruined it if yeh let me ruin it. Don’ let me ruin it.”

Melody, despite how hard she tried to compose herself, sputtered out a peal of laughter. Harry grinned at her as he caught up and fell into stride beside her.

“That mean yeh forgive me? Yeh’re gonna let me see ‘em?”

“No.”

His face fell so quickly that she had to pinch herself to keep from laughing again.

“If I do it doesn’t mean you’re forgiven,” she said, “but you might get lucky. New year, new slate and all that.”

Harry snaked his arm around Melody’s shoulders and pressed a clumsy kiss to her head. “Did promise me, remember?” he whispered.

“How could I forget when you remind me so insistently?”

Harry smiled into her hair. Every other emotion that he’d filtered through that night seemed so far removed as Melody tucked her hand up the back of his jacket, as his vision swam foggy just at the edges.

“You’re drunk though,” Melody muttered as an afterthought. “Probably shouldn’t—”

“Oh, please. Please, don’ pull that,” Harry said. “Could’ve lost an entire half of my brain and I’d still want yeh. Don’ need to be sober to know that.”

Melody shook her head, feeling her insides flare at his words. She curled her fingers around his shirt.

They hit the block where the people were beginning to wander out into the sidewalks and hail cabs to get home, and somehow, despite the unfortunate way the night had turned out, Harry thought that this city had never looked so warm and bright.

Chapter 14

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Who Knows?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Depictions of gore and blood, drunkenness

Summary: When you don't get there in time to save a young couple, the weight of the job starts to take it's toll. Trying to drink to forget that same night in the bunker, you end up drunkenly confessing your big fantasy to Dean.

A/N: Sorry if the formatting is off on this. I posted it on my phone instead of my laptop!

---------------

Blood. There was so much blood. It was on them, on the floor, on the walls, on your clothes. You thought you'd beat the werewolf there and save that young couple but the second you busted through the door of their apartment, it was too late. The werewolf had its teeth sunk into the pregnant young woman, who flailed on the ground screaming. Her fiancee's lifeless, bloody body lied crumpled on the floor a few feet away. You immediately shot the monster in the head and ran towards the woman to see how badly she injured. 

It was bad. The skin over her chest was ripped open far too badly for you to be able to fix and she'd already lost so much blood, you knew she wouldn't last until the ambulance got there. Regardless, you called 911 but by the time they got there, the woman had died in your arms. 

The drive back was silent. Your jeans and long sleeve shirt had become caked in dark crimson blotches from where her body lied on you. You reached down into your bag that was crumpled by your feet and pulled out a flask, making the stupid decision to chug the hard liquor inside while driving and not even feeling it burn 

By the time you got back to the bunker, you'd already chugged the whole flask and had begun feeling quite tipsy. But that wasn't enough. You wanted to forget, needed to forget. 

Wordless, you entered the bunker and made a beeline for the kitchen. Behind, you heard Sam ask, "How'd it go?" 

You didn't say a word, only stomped into the kitchen but neither of the boys missed the blood stains all over your body. They could tell it wasn't yours and by the way you were acting, they were almost certain of what had happened. 

You hadn't heard Dean come into the kitchen where you were reaching for a glass until he requested, "Hey, grab me one too?" 

With a shrug, you grabbed him one too and then swiftly reached for a random bottle off the liquor shelf. Without even glancing at it, you poured yourself a glass of the mystery brown liquid that was about twice as full as a normal serving and threw it back in just two gulps. You handed Dean the glass and the bottle and he poured his own, glancing at you cautiously as you panted, trying to feel again. 

Once he'd, set the bottle down, you grabbed it and took a swig from the bottle itself and jumped up to sit on the counter. Dean leaned against the metal island staring at the floor and the two of you sat in silence for at least five minutes before he tried to comfort you, "You got there as fast as you could."

"But it wasn't fast enough." You hiccuped, "She died in my arms Dean." 

Dean sighed, "I know, Y/N. But we literally found out about the case today. This is one of the fastest cases we've ever worked. You couldn't have gotten to them sooner. 

You couldn't even take your eyes off the ground. They'd glazed over with tears that you tried to hold in. "Maybe you should take a shower. Get changed. We can ta-"

"Y'know she was pregnant? She begged me to save her and then she begged me to save her baby when she knew she wasn't gonna make it. And then she begged me to stay with her so she wouldn't die alone." Angry tears spilled down your cheeks as you took another huge chug of what you'd discovered was cheap whiskey. 

Dean leaned forward and grabbed the bottle from your hand, "Okay, let's slow down on this." In your drunken state, you started to cough, choking momentarily as droplets of the firey liquid found their way into your lungs. 

"NO!" You yelled, trying to snatch it back but failing drunkenly, "I'm so tired of this Dean! We try so hard but people are still dying all around us! People we try to save, people we love! Your parents are dead! My best friend is dead! Hell, even you've died!" Hiccups interrupted every few words, "Maybe all I want is a normal life with a white fucking picket fence and kids and a dog and a husband that won't get fucking murdered like everyone else we love!" 

Dean came up to you and leaned close, trying to calm you down, his hands resting on your arms, "Hey, Y/N, we save people. You save people. You're right, we've lost a lot of people on the way. But you're the reason so many people are still alive today. You're a hero." 

"Maybe I don't wanna be a hero anymore." You cried, huffing away, before clumsily holding is hands, "Dean, let's run away together. Me and you. We can get married and have that little house with the picket fence and kids and dogs and we won't have to have to keep knives under our pillows at night!" 

Dean let you collapse drunkenly against him, the tears finally slowing. There's no way you meant that. He needed to remind himself not to get his hopes up. You were drunk and emotional and you didn't know what you were saying, right?  

Before he knew it,  you were snoring against his shoulder,  all your weight sliding off the counter and into his grip,  "Oh! Okay, kid, let's get you to bed." He lifted you effortlessly off the counter and carried you to the bathroom. 

***

You woke up in your bed the next morning (if 11:00 am counted as morning) with a pounding headache and quite confused. Unfortunately, you remembered the depressing events of last night until about your fifth shot of whiskey. It was all fuzzy after that. 

With a groan, you rolled out of bed and were immediately confused as to why you were now wearing a large oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts as pajama bottoms instead of the clothes you wore last night. Maybe you got changed before you fell asleep? 

You ungracefully padded your way into the briefing room where Sam and Dean sat with several books open. Dean chuckled, "Ah, there she is!" He announced proudly. 

"How you feeling?" Sam asked apologetically as he watched you smooth down your hair that was sticking up everywhere. 

"What happened?" You asked, plopping down next to Sam. 

Dean shrugged, "Hunt went bad and you came back pretty toasted. Don't drink and drive by the way, idiot. Anyways, you drank even more when you got here but we got you to bed." 

You groaned, shielding your eyes from the bright light, "I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?" Frankly, you were afraid of the answer. 

Sam shook his head. "Nothing too bad. You told Dean you guys should get married and run away together." 

Your eyes widened, "Oh my God!" You collapsed, hiding your face in your hands.  You prayed that he just thought it was a joke because if he knew you really secretly felt that way about him, everything would change and you were sure if it would be for the good. 

Dean stiffened at the mention of your fantasy you'd described last night and remembered the dream of it he had that night. It was a dream he'd had many times before, a thought that had definitely occurred to him prior to your drunken confession. But he couldn't tell you that because you just said it cause you were drunk. You would've asked Sam to run away with you if he'd been in Dean's place! Right? 

"We're gonna pretend like that didn't happen." You waved your hands, trying to clear the past of what you'd said, "What else happened?" 

Dean chuckled, "Well you fell asleep on me, almost fell off the counter, and I couldn't let you sleep in those clothes so I tried to get you as clean as I could without, well… yeah. But I got you changed into pajamas and, I swear I kept my eyes closed as much as possible!" He was flustered and Sam laughed, remembering how he and Dean had struggled to clean you up last night without crossing any boundaries and the way Dean blushed like a 13 year old boy who'd just discovered Playboy when they peeled the blood soaked shirt off your unconscious form. 

"You saw me naked?!" You couldn't believe this. You trusted the boys with your life and knew they would never do anything to harm you but, you had to say, being drunkenly passed out was not the way you'd envisioned Dean seeing you naked for the first time. 

Sam put his hands up quickly in reassurance, "No! Just underwear! I swear!" 

You hated when the boys felt like they had to take care of you like that but nonetheless, you thanked them for helping you out last night, "And I'm sorry I got so drunk. It was a rough hunt. But here, lemme get y'all a cup of thank you coffee." You pressed yourself up and poured three cups of coffee and walked them back to the boys. 

They nodded their thanks and everyone took a sip, the coffee not doing much to help your hangover. Suddenly, Sam chuckled beside you. "What's so funny?" Dean asked, looking over his feet that were on the table. 

Sam smiled and shook his head, "Just thinking of you and Y/N getting married." 

Your heart sank. Was the thought of it so preposterous? "What's so funny about that?" Dean questioned defensively. 

"Just that you two are so much alike, I couldn't imagine dealing with you two together." Sam went on. 

You scoffed, "Y'know what? Maybe we'll get married just to spite you!" 

"Yeah! We'll walk down to the court house right now!" Dean's feet left the table top and returned to the floor. 

Sam gestured towards the two of you, who identically were leaning towards him, "See what I mean?! Look what you're doing now! Who knows what you'd do if you were actually together?" 

Yeah, you sighed to yourself, who knows… 

[hoseoksactualass]

[1:24 a.m.] I’m not gonna touch her 😡

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut // fluff 

word count: almost 2k

warning/s: oral (male receiving)

a/n: pls imagine this w cherry kook i miss cherry kook, also,, i changed my writing style...a bit? if you’ll notice? and this is gonna be long

Jungkook knew what he was signing up for. It’s the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your fourth beer bottle and how Jimin’s hand gradually went higher up your thigh like you feel it through insobriety and loud laughing. He still likes you, though, wants to protect you, everything in the How To Confess scripture and all that yada, but he’s a man of his word, so he’ll house you for a night. Admittedly more so because Jimin’s hand started to look sickening. And he did so with Jimin sending him a proud sneer and Jungkook biting back with a rather defensive “I’m not gonna touch her.” 

It’s been a considerable amount of years since you’ve visited them in Seoul, and to your avail, Jungkook found it perfect to invite your trusty circle of friends to where he’s bought a new apartment with his fat wallet. After confessing his feelings, because he’s not a Big Bitch. And with knowing Jimin gets touchy when tipsy, and even more so when he knows he’s making the younger boy jealous; that was uncalled for. What was also uncalled for was how uncomfortable you were making his pants. The way you pumped your fists into the air to signify party, and the hem of your shirt loosely brushed over the skin of your stomach. The way, with intoxication in your tongue, you told him you missed him after every swig. 

Of course he has a guest room; he’s not cheap, and definitely not a pervert. You were the first to grace its untouched sheets, in the silence of a post-party air, eyes reeling under your closed eyelids, and a part of Jungkook hoped you were dreaming of him. Not a part of him, all of him. 

It’s still stuck in his mind anyway. The way, before you fell asleep, you mumbled “Thanks for making me stay, Jay-Kaaaaay, love ya.” 

You look like you’re about to wake up, so Jungkook is thrown back from his trance in a hurry to grab you a glass of water. When he comes back, he makes it look like he hadn’t been gawking at you all the while. He’s brought a whole pitcher, too. 

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes. “I think I’m sober now.”

“Why aren’t you hungover?,” is what Jungkook settles with. He pours you a glass and lends it to you. 

“I didn’t fuck myself up, don’t worry,” you drink. Slowly like you’re taught, or you’ll end up bent over the toilet or pissing Jungkook’s guest room sheets. “You?”

“I had, like, one bottle,” he leaves out the part where he got tense peering at you, more particularly at Jimin’s hand while you lit up the party’s conversation like a natural. “Not drunk at all.”

“Mm. You’re gonna have to clean up the place, anyway,” you cup your glass in both hands, looking up at Jungkook. “Can’t do that with a hangover,” the way you clink your nails against the glass makes the air more awkward. A pretentious act for the silence of his apartment. Pretending he didn’t confess how intense his feelings were a mere night ago in a warm, warm welcome of your comeback to Seoul. Delightful. More so because thinking about it made your face hot, and for what, you have no idea. 

Jungkook pulls down his hoodie, fingering through the cherry red of his hair. Slowly fading into the pale bleach that it was. “Yeah, there’s quite a—a mess.”

“Let me guess, did Ji-hee vomit?”

He huffs out a shy laugh, apples of his cheek prominent. “S-Surpisingly not.”

“Oh, she didn’t. That’s a first.”

“Yeah, she didn’t.”

You bite at your lip, veering your stare from him. “...Yeah.” 

He backpedals a step he was supposed to make, body stirring whether he should go closer or out of the room, smacking his lips together, dicey in the way he’s so puzzled. “Do you— Should I— Will you sleep, or—” 

“No, JK, wait—,” then it’s you who smacks your lips together like punishment for even calling him by the name only his closest friends call him. But you see it makes his cheeks turn rosy. “I— Can I borrow a pair of shorts? O-Or pyjamas?” 

He tries to ask why. Tries, but he’s already shuffling out of the room per your request, and your nails dig into the clench of your fists, because it’s so fucking tense. He comes back with basketball shorts. Lame and old, worn out neon green striped on the sides of the black polyester. Still shy in the way he hands it over, but he doesn’t miss the way your hands brush when you receive it. You intended that. 

“I—I kind of—My shorts reek of beer, so, I’m gonna...”

“D-Do you wanna go to the bathroom, or should I—should I just leave?”

“You can just turn around,” you say it out of impulse, kindness, panic, and it’ll be too feeble to take back. So you smile at him, at the way his eyes widen and he looks like he’s about to say something. You catch the way his eyes flick at your legs when you’ve kicked them off the bed, and then he turns around like you asked. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to obsess over it—the sounds of your shorts slipping off your limbs, your skin, wearing his basketball shorts. He tries to block it out, but it’s the only thing he hears. The only thing he imagines until Jimin’s hand snakes its way back up into his imagination, and his nose flares. 

You, on the other hand, don’t want to obsess about how close he was. How you were basically stripping behind him, how you know he was thinking about how you look. Your heart softens for it, and the inevitable pulse in your body everyone feels over someone like Jeon Jungkook. You can see the bones of his shoulder even from under his hoodie. You walk to him, don’t particularly know why, and he hears it, but he still waits for your word to turn back around. You want to touch his back. “Hey, Jungkook?”

He jumps at the proximity of your voice. Directly behind him. “Yeah?”

“You can turn around.”

He does, meets eyes, too. Searches yours for something. “...Hi.”

“I’ll be straightforward. I don’t want you to—,” you say, and he instantly breaks eye contact, downcast. “I don’t want you to be all—all awkward around me, because you—because you confessed so... yeah.”

He holds back a smile. “It’s just that you haven’t answered is all.”

“I’ll answer.” His eyes light up. It’s glazed with hope, and it squeezes sweet at your heart. His eyes flutter, and he purses his lips into a gulp. You like him. In fact, you curl your arms around his neck and pull him to your lips. Make him stumble to you, eyes wide, but he instantly shuts it tight when your lips clash, his hands in fists, because he can’t bring himself to touch your hips. Up your shirt like he’s imagined so many times. Maybe he whimpers lowly against your lips, taken aback and smitten all at once. He takes a mental note of how good you kiss, how fluid you are when you tease a nibble on his lower lip. You feel how he lets you suck him into it, until you feel your hands playing with his waistband, and you feel his tightly hold yours. 

“_____, what are you doing?” 

“That’s my answer. I like you. I—,” you tug at his sweatpants. “—want you.”

“B-But I—,” he tries to take a step back, breaths already shallow. “But I told Jimin I wasn’t gonna—gonna touch you.” 

You loosen your grip, staring at him straight in the eye where he craves for you. “But do you want to?,” your voice is soft. 

“I—I do want—to touch you; it’s just that Jimin is an asshole when he—”

“Then try not to touch me, or try to make sure Jimin doesn’t find out,” you kiss him again. This time, he receives it better, grabbing leverage on the desk behind him, tilting his head so his lips fit with yours, and he does it so beautifully; you catch the way his red hair falls over his eyes. You kiss to his dimples, feel the seething of his cheeks on your mouth. You see he closes his eyes when you kiss down from his jaw, brows slightly furrowed; he’s buried in the feeling, ruined by it. “Tell me what you like.”

You’re careful when you peck his neck. You make sure you see it when he wants to moan for it, for how feathery and soft you kiss him. “I—Anything.”

“There must be something I can give you.”

“Anything you’ll give me,” he wants to sound innocent, so he can pin whatever filthy thing you were planning on you like he isn’t hard for it. “I—I want it.”

You suck at his pulse at that, nipping so it leaves a light mark. “Do you?,” you look up, fishing for his response when you palm his crotch. 

The way his eyes are shut tightens. You palm at the creases of his clothes until all you feel is the outline of his arousal. “Y-Yeah.”

“You like this?,” you grope harder. He purses his lips like he’s about to cry. 

“Yeah,” his voice is tight, gripping hard at the edge of the desk. You make sure your eyes solidly meet when you get on your knees, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down with you; he almost jumps. Flinches violently at the sudden gesture and the will to cover how embarrassingly hard he was, but it’s too late, because you have a tight fist around the base of his dick. His breath hitches. “A-Are you gonna—never mind.”

“Am I gonna what?,” you bite your lip, sending a slow, tight stroke to his dick. His knuckles go white. 

“I mean—’cause you’re on your knees—I think that maybe you would... suckmydick,” the last words go out in a whisper, but you didn’t have to hear it. He blushes harder at the way you giggle. It doesn’t take long before you close your lips around the tip, wetting the trace with your tongue. “E-Exactly—like that.”

You gape up at him. His eyebrows are knit, eyes dark with lust, lips wet from kissing; it’s godly. His chest heaves—up, down in suspense. You take him in your mouth as far as you can go, letting up just to go down again. He could break his desk with how hard he was grasping it just to keep himself up. 

“O-Oh, fuck,” he curses through the clench in his jaw. You could stare at him and do nothing, and he’ll declare it pleasure. “Fuck, shit, fuck.”

You match the way you stroke him with how you suck, holding him; you can feel his veins protrude and pulse, hot and damp against your mouth. He brings one hand to your hair, tucking strands behind your ear for the feel of it, mouth half open. 

It’s absolute Music To Your Ears. His loose breaths that bring a nasal whimper with it, the downturn on his brows like he’s begging. He’s still too diffident to express what was reeling inside his head—recurrent thoughts of tasting how wet you are or having you coiling under him. His hips almost kick. You’re tearing up, and all he can do is stroke your hair. His fingertips light you up until the ground under you feels moot. He touches you like he’s head over heels in love, petting you as if praising you, and you perceive it in the blush on his cheeks, crossing all the way across his nose. You suck faster, and it takes expected effect. He wants to say something about how he wants your pussy, but he settles with “Y-Your—mouth feels so good.”

The praise ignites you even more; you moan in approval of it. Jungkook happens to like that. A Lot, it makes his dick twitch. He’s submerged in the feeling, completely ignoring how he got here and where he’ll end up, wrapped around the thought that you willingly got on your knees for him. He doesn’t know how to express how grateful he is, but the sound of your name makes much more sense. He says it, fucking moans your name like it’s the only thing he knows. Like he hadn’t done exactly that in his lonely, wee hours of the night once or twice, feeling careless or intoxicated. 

You’re a mess, nearly keening at the soft caresses of his hand on your hair, palming it against your head like he’s cradling you to sleep. You watch him ogle at the way you make certain most of his cock slips easy in your mouth. He’s increasingly timid the closer he gets, confused even if he knows you’ll let him cum down your throat. He lets his other hand free, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie and bringing it to his face, turning his head to the side. You don’t miss the way his ears flush crimson as if to match his hair, or how he moans louder against the fabric to muffle himself. In fact, how flustered he was was incredibly hot, the way he returned his other hand to the edge of the desk lest he might pull your hair out. 

When he cums, you hear a string of choked glory, held together by a slowing mantra of your name until he drops his cover. He keeps his head to the side, eyes still closed, face still red, breath still heavy. You swallow, but you’d need a glass of water for your throat to clear. When you stand up, you pull his clothes up with you. “I figured you wouldn’t kiss me now that I’ve swallowed your cum.”

His eyes flutter at that, reddening quickly at the face again before he presses his lips on yours, and it’s a soft, light kiss that lasts seconds. You smile. 

“You can tell Jimin it was just my hair.”

“W-What?”

“My hair. You touched just my hair.”

“He’ll think I’m weird.”

“It’s not false, I mean, you kissed my cum-stuffed mouth, so—”

He laughs at that but doesn’t stop blushing for three days. 

[dazed-universe]

Cauldrons and Kisses.

DO NOT REPOST. THE PIECE BELOW WAS WRITTEN BY ME.

Harry hosts a Halloween party and you turn up in an outfit to match.

~

England doesn't go as big as America on Halloween, or anything really, and Harry is uncharacteristically missing the big party spirit. The events he has been to Los Angeles before always read go big or go home and, although he's been tempted, he has fun, a lot. One thing he continuously says to us is how overrated he thinks it is and how dressing up takes way much more time and effort than it should so... you can imagine my surprise when his text comes through.

Hi, it's Harry. I'm throwing a party on Halloween, fancy dress, of course. I would love it if you came and I wanted to give adequate time for costume prep. I hope I see you and have a good one. x

Maybe it's a quarter-life crisis, maybe he had some wild epiphany, maybe he's just as bored as me and needs something to do and what is more fun than pretending to be somebody else for the night? I start getting texts from our friends who he also invited, already asking what I'm thinking of wearing, probably planning some elaborate group outfits. After a quick shower, a deep dive into spooky Tumblr will occur.

It's around ten pm now, which means there are exactly three weeks until Harry's party and I still haven't found an outfit after four solid hours of searching and some intense group chat conferring. I get up to make some dinner as the door goes, I throw on a cardigan before heading to answer it. "Hi, only me, no need to get dressed up," Harry jokes pointing between my cardigan and slippers. "Yet, at least. Did you get my text? About the party?" He questions as I let him in, closing the door behind him and walking into the kitchen, him following close behind.

"I did. It sounds fun. I'm just trying to figure out what in the world to wear so I don't end up turning up on the day as a cat or something," I say, pouring the now boiled kettle into two cups of tea, sliding one over it him, subtly shivering and bouncing his leg. "What if you want to go as a cat? Then what happens?" I look at his amused face with disbelief, his dumbassery forever astounding me. "Then it will be the best cat costume that Halloween has ever fucking seen," I return.

"What are you going as?" I ask, hoping his outfit will give me some inspiration, leaning over the table as if it's a secret, him doing the same. "I'm not telling you. You'll see it on the night, like everybody else." He whispers before taking a sip of his tea and sitting back, a big smile on his face. I put my head down on the table, moaning in annoyance and realization that I probably will end up going as something stupid. "Don't stay mad for too long, your tea is getting cold," he starts giggling as I look up at him, very unamused.

We finish our tea and talk more about the plans before he goes to LA until the party. Three weeks seems like a long time, but, when you have to shop or possibly make something, it's no time at all. "Right then, I'm going to head off, go home. You need to find an outfit, don't let me down, we have to be the best dressed." He says before coming around to my side of the table and giving me a hug, a kiss on the cheek and leaving. Well, now I have to find something good, I cannot let him down.

It's been three weeks since I saw Harry, which means his party is today. I'm meeting Harris and Alexa at five to start getting ready and then we leave for Harry's at quarter to ten. I have no doubt my outfit will be one of the worst and no doubt a disappointment to Mr. Styles despite his earlier warning, however, we can't all have custom Gucci on our side. I start getting ready to head over to Alexa's, jumping in the shower, having a quick snack, packing a little bag and heading out.

Alexa opens the door in a dress, definitely going as the queen of hearts, as Harris yells down the stairs about how they need the brush in her hand. "Come in, we must hurry, you know what he's like if people are late," We walk in her room, makeup, extensions, and clothes everywhere as Harris is having a Bowieesque lightning bolt painted onto their face. "So," Alexa says as they both look over to me, standing in the doorway. "What outfit did you decide on?" Was I debating just going home instead? One hundred percent but, what else was I going to do?

I go into the bathroom to get changed, always having to make a dramatic entrance, suddenly feeling better about my outfit. Sure, it's not the most adventurous but it's a little sexy and fashionable so, what is there not to love? I walk back into the room, leaning against the doorframe. "Hello, witches," I say, the iconic Stevie line from American Horror Story immediately recognized as Harris starts screaming about the dress and hat combo. It's amazing what black stockings and a pair of heels can do to an outfit. What is essentially a leather pinafore skirt with a lace top has never looked better.

I put on some eyeliner, red lipstick and let Alexa loosely curl my hair before we leave, right on time. We jump into the car picking us up before heading to the club Harry has booked out for his highly exclusive and anticipated event. We turn up to fans and paparazzi standing outside whilst the general public is walking by, wondering what is going on. We pose for a few photos before running inside, scared of England's unpredictable winter weather and the chance of rain. A few of Harry's friends greet us at the door, telling us he's upstairs and excited.

"No... No way... NO!" He starts yelling towards us as we walk in the door, looking my outfit up and down as I start laughing, taking in his leather trousers, black heels, suspenders, eyeliner and, lace shawl wrapped around his shoulders. "I should've just fucking told you, shouldn't I?" he says, shaking his head before pulling me in for a hug, squeezing me tight and whispering in my ear about he's kidding and it's fine, cute almost. "We match, that's fun. We can say it was intentional." he decides, now laughing himself and hugging the others. "At least we're the best dressed," he smirks back at me.

We party on into the early morning, karaoke being a very heavy influence on everyone's mood. Harry is, off walking around with drinks and snacks, being the best host he can be, even though there are waiters everywhere so I am sitting with Hélène, Harry, Harris, Alexa, and Pixie as they decide which song to perform next for the many drunk attendees. "Can I talk to you for a second?" Harry comes over and asks, smiling and fist-bumping everyone else before pulling me into the private, backroom. He leans in for a hug, making me laugh at the ever-so-slightly tipsy affection.

"I just wanted to tell you that I think you look amazing, and I wanted to make sure that you know I'm not really mad that we're matching," He says, playing with the tassels on his shawl whilst keeping eye contact with me. "I know, it's fine. And, thank you. You look good, I guess," I say, looking down at his very tight but complimenting trousers. "In fact, I think our Leather & Lace combination is actually quite sexy," he smirks, tucking a fallen piece of hair behind my ear and under the witch hat before cupping my face and leaning in.

He pushes me up against the counter behind us, I take my hat and his shawl off, running my hands up his back and into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip, a smile appearing as I gasp in surprise. "I have wanted this, for fucking long," he whispers against my jaw as he pulls away. "But we can't do this here, not now. Come back with me, when this ends," An amused smirk spreads across his face as his hands touch my waist, tickling me. "Let's make some magic, baby,"

~

Part Two.*

[nutbrain]

Siegemas Day 1

Prompt: “Did you break into my house??” “You refused to put up any Christmas decorations! What choice did I have?”

A Smoke/Mute holiday fic :)

Thanks @dualrainbow for putting this event on and thank you @thedragonsarealive for beta-ing

(tumblr mobile doesn’t want to let me add a read more, so my apologies)

A loud thump pulled Mute out of a deep sleep, waking him with a start as his eyes flew open and breath caught in his throat. He waited a moment in the darkness, trying to discern if the sound came from within his apartment or one of the surrounding ones. He sat up, still listening as his heart hammered in his ears, almost certain the sound came from within his flat given how close it had sounded. A muttered curse drifted into his bedroom and Mute knew whoever it was was in his flat. He slid open his night table drawer as quietly as possible, pulling out the handgun he’d hidden there. Mute checked the clip and loaded a bullet into the chamber before clicking the safety off and moving to stand near the bedroom door. He was about to exit when he thought better of it, pulling out his phone and sending a text to Sledge.

‘Someone in the apartment. Going to investigate.’

Sledge lived close enough to be here in a few minutes, which would be enough time to confront whoever was in his front room. He could hear them moving around, rattling with something every so often. Mute cracked his door, peering down the dark hallway. Occasionally, the beam of a flashlight would whip around the room. Mute’s eyes narrowed; whoever this was had picked a poor house to rob.

Mute slid out of the bedroom, checking back down the hall towards the bathroom and finding no one. He stuck close to the wall, one hand on the gun the other reaching out towards the light switch. Closer, closer….there.

The lights flicked on as he swung around the wall and into the room, hands coming up with the gun, accompanied by a shout of “don’t move, hands in the air!”. The figure jumped sky high, dropping the rope that had previously been in his hands while he flung them up in the air. Mute felt his phone buzz in his pocket as he tried to calm his heart.

“What do you think you’re doing in here?” The figure squirmed under Mute’s hard tone, glancing over his shoulder.

“Awww, babe. Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?” He asked with a nervous snicker. Mute blinked, lowering the weapon as Smoke turned to face him. He was wearing a ridiculous looking headlamp, which almost distracted Mute from the fact that he was dressed in a garish Christmas sweater displaying Santa doing his best rendition of the rope stunt from Mission Impossible. Mute glanced around, taking note of several boxes of ornaments, a lopsided tree, and lengths of lights that he had originally mistaken for something more nefarious.

“Did you break into my house?” He didn’t remember giving Smoke a key.

“You refused to put up any Christmas decorations! What choice did I have?” Smoke asked, waving his hands in the air. Mute shook his head, flicking the safety back on his gun before setting it on the table next to him.

“I told you—“

“Yes, yes. Inefficient use of electricity and fire hazard. Blah, blah, blah. You need a little Christmas cheer in your life.” Smoke rolled his eyes dramatically, setting back to his task of stringing lights on the tree.

“You could have been shot.” Mute tried sternly, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Not to mention you scared the daylights out of me.”

“I might have knocked the tree over on myself when I tried to string the top. Maybe you can help me, mate?” Mute continued to frown until Smoke pouted, pretending to be unable to reach the top. With a sigh he walked over, knowing full well if he didn’t want James breaking and entering every night until Christmas, so he might as well give in.

“Oh, look, mistletoe! How’d that get there?” Mute looked up. Sure enough, stuck to the ceiling with what looked to be a dart was a sprig of mistletoe. The dart’s hold was precarious at best, looking to be barely stuck into the stucco above.

“How many tries did that take you in the dark?” Mute could only imagine what would have happened if that ricocheted back into Smoke’s eye.

“First try, luv. Now kiss me.” Smoke tugged on Mute’s pajama shirt, coming up in his tiptoes to complete the Christmas tradition. It was at that moment the sound of wood violently splintering thundered through the apartment. Both jumped as the front door was kicked in, a very angry Scot framed by the remnants of wood, brandishing a shotgun. Both Mute and Smoke jumped, the shorter man gripping his heart. The shaking of the walls dislodged the dart, and it dropped, the back of it pelting Mute in the top of the head.

“What the fu— what are you doing Sledge!?” A moment of panic rose in Smoke, before he realized who was at the door, quickly transitioning back to his usual smug self. “It was unlocked you know.”

“Did you find who broke in, Mark?” Asked the Scot as he too relaxed a bit as well, stepping past the remnants of the door swinging on its hinges and splinters littering the floor at Mute rubbed at the new sore spot on his head.

“Oh yes. Sorry about waking you. Turns out it was just this idiot breaking in to decorate.” Mute dropped that hand scrub at his tired eyes, contemplating the best way to explain this to his landlord and the neighbors.

“You really weren’t going to decorate?” Sledge asked, eyebrows pulling into a frown as he scanned the apartment. Mute shook his head. “You’ve been hanging around Thatcher too much.”

And with that, Sledge placed down his shotgun on the adjacent kitchen counter and attempted to piece the door back together, quickly giving up with a small apology. The Scot made a call to Thatcher, letting him know what the situation was and assuring him that yes, Mute was fine and no, he had not shot Smoke, much to Thatcher’s feigned disappointment. An invite to help was extended now that they were all awake, although if it were up to Mute, everyone would just go home and sleep.

No fewer than three neighbors poked their head in while Sledge was making that call, with Smoke (unhelpfully) telling each one of them that someone had broken in and kicked the door down. Only one questioned the order of the wording, but Mute shooed them off in his usual brisk manner, knowing he was about to become the talk of the building. Again.

Finally finished with his call, Sledge assessed the room before setting about helping Smoke unpack the decorations he’d brought, despite Mute’s best protests. With a grumpy, resigned sigh, he retreated to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and stewing in his emotions. Within ten minutes, they had a fourth visitor as Thatcher arrived, a bottle of whisky and a tree topper in his hands.

“Maggie, you came!” Smoke crowed, ushering him in and clearing a spot for the older SAS to stand and hand off ornaments. Smoke smiled and winked at Mute, waving him over to sit and enjoy the conversation. Mute responded by flipping him the bird, but approached nonetheless after pouring another cup of tea.

Mute would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy their playful bickering, Smoke arguing that red and green was the only proper color scheme while Thatcher assured him that silver and gold was superior. Sledge took over the taller portions of the tree, saving Smoke from once again toppling the tree over (though with Mute awake to watch, he wouldn’t have minded seeing a repeat performance of what had woken him up). Finally, everything was coming together, Thatcher, who was now a tad tipsy, insisted Mute do the honors of placing the star atop the tree. He cheered loudly as it happened, Smoke telling him he was so proud and Sledge asking if that was so hard. With the work completed, Smoke decided he was owed a mistletoe kiss still, much to the others' chagrin.

Eventually the conversation gave way to sleepy yawns as the night progressed. With the decorations hung and the whisky almost gone, Thatcher and Sledge left, Smoke and Mute bidding them so long. Smoke, clearly not wanting to leave, puttered around the tree, making small adjustments to the tinsel and lights while Mute flopped down on the couch in exhaustion. The main room lights were flicked off and Smoke curled into Mute’s side moments later, humming in contentment. The two sat and stared at the tree as it twinkled, soft red and green glow cast across the wall.

“I’ll take that risk, babe.” Came the reply, voice just as sleepy.

They fell asleep like that, lights softly flickering, tinsel glimmering, and door hanging askew, wrapped comfortably in each other’s arms.

[keanu-fics]

Hot Chocolate; part 1.5

You don’t need to read the first part to read this one, it’s just a bit of smut (specifically for @keanuchillz ;D). Also imagine a young Keanu for this one, young enough to cum in his pants.

WARNINGS: smut

Summary: things are going fine between you and Keanu after the meeting in the diner. Then you both attend a party, where your boyfriend shows up out of nowhere.

You had such a nice time with Keanu in the diner the other day that he would always find time to talk to you during the filming. You realised he could be as shy as you at times and easy to talk to.

The filming was coming to an end and there was a goodbye party for all the actors and stuff and their plus ones. You were too nervous to go. You got to know some people on the set, but you got to know Keanu the best. You would go just to see him, but you knew he would be busy talking to everyone. The party had started, and you finally decided to not to be stupid, just go and have a good time.

By the time you took a shower, did your hair and makeup, the party’s already been on for over an hour. Being fashionably late will never go out of style. You thought as you were finishing putting on a smart-casual dress and some jewellery. You felt your phone vibrate on the vanity.

  Keanu: I don’t see you here.

  It was a text from Keanu. Your heart somersaulted and you quickly hit reply.

  You: On my way.

  When you made it to the party, there were as many people as you dreaded. You were starting to feel insecure and decided to look for the couple of the other girls your age who also worked as runners. You chatted to them for a while, but they were already tipsy, and you were still clutching your first glass of champagne, your stomach in a knot. You finally spotted Keanu. He was talking to some of the producers and excused himself when he saw you.

You smiled at him across the room and put the full glass of champagne down, starting to walk towards him. Before you made it to each other, you felt an arm across your back and a firm squeeze on your shoulder. “So, my girlfriend finally made it big!”

You looked up and saw your boyfriend towering above you.  He had a huge grin on his face and forced a kiss off you while you were still in shock. “Jeremy.” you spoke, and you saw Keanu standing right in front of you.

Jeremy was your boyfriend of half a year, but things were not serious enough for you and you have been planning on breaking up with him for a while now, chickening out and deciding to postpone it until after the filming.

“What are you doing here?” you asked your boyfriend, quickly looking at Keanu, but his expression was stone-hard, and you could not gauge his reaction.

“We got the party invitations in the mail.”

By ‘we’ he meant you and he still opened the envelope addressed to you. You did live together, and you regretted taking that step too soon.

Jeremy suddenly spotted Keanu and his face lit up even brighter. “Keanu Reeves!” he exclaimed. “I’ve seen some of your stuff. How did my girlfriend do on her first real job?” How many times was he going to call you his girlfriend in front of Keanu?

“It is so nice to meet you.” Keanu said, sounding as polite as he always did and shook Jeremy’s hand. “Y/N was great. I am sure in the future she will own the director’s chair.” He laughed and started to look uncomfortable. “If you excuse me, I really have to talk to some people. Enjoy your evening, guys.”

Jeremy thanked him, looking starstruck and turned back to you. You were cursing yourself for not breaking up with Jeremy already. Stupid, stupid, stupid,…

The evening ended up in a disaster, once again you did not muster the courage to break up with your boyfriend, but your excuse this time was feeling exhausted.

You had not talked to Keanu for the rest of the party and you left early, not saying goodbye. You had embarrassed yourself again. You could not sleep during the night. Jeremy was snoring next to you and you were full of regrets. You were staring at the messages you and Keanu had exchanged, but you did not dare message him again.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some months have passed, you finally broke it off with Jeremy, moved in with a complete stranger and have not heard from Keanu. Occasionally you were still in touch with one of the girls from the set, who was a lot more social than you and she told you about a pool party that was happening. Apparently, Keanu would be there.

 You decided to go. He might not have feelings for you, or at least not after that party, but you decided to at least set things straight. He must have felt like you were leading him on. Like you were hiding your boyfriend from him, when in reality you did not think of him as your boyfriend for a long time then.

At the party, everyone was in their swimsuits. You still had your summer dress on, not feeling confident enough to take it off. The house where the party was at was huge and had two pools on different sides of the house. You poured yourself a margarita from the bar and forced yourself to make small talk with some of the people you became acquainted with during the shoot. During your second margarita you took your dress off and sat at the edge of the pool to dip your feet in. You suddenly heard a piercing laughter from the other side of the pool and saw Keanu walking towards the bar with a group of beautiful girls who were all laughing at his joke.

The girls’ bikinis were tiny, barely covering their breasts and you felt like hiding your own body. You finished your second margarita in one swig and even though it was not that strong, it gave you more courage. You walked up to the group and lifted your hand in a half-assed wave. “Hey.” you smiled at all the girls who were eyeing you suspiciously, but your eyes stopped at Keanu.

“Y/N. Long time no see.” he said friendly, but the words themselves stung. He did not sound like someone who was once so sweet to you.

All of them were staring at you, waiting for you to say something and you had nothing. You felt like crying. “Yeah, uhm, I just wanted to say hi.” you chuckled unconvincingly and backed away.

You made your way inside looking for your dress that you left on one of the chairs but now someone was sitting on the chair and your dress was nowhere to be found. You pretended to look for your dress for a while, while trying to suppress the tears in your eyes, but after a couple deep breaths you asked someone about your dress. Apparently, all the clothes had been carried downstairs to the basement. Relieved you walked down the stairs. The basement was dimly lit, with no source of natural light and you saw piles of clothes spread out on a couch. You sighed and before going to look for your dress, you spotted a lot of really old electronics and a collection of Atari cartridges, feeling like you were in an 80s museum.

You heard the steps creek and turned around to see Keanu. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and you were both silent. “Hey.” you said finally, being extremely self-aware of your body in a bikini.

“Hey.” he was in his swimming trunks. Your eyes roamed down, across his chest, seeing the long scar on his abdomen, your eyes drifting lower of their own accord… You forced yourself to look back up at his face, before you made him uncomfortable.

None of you were saying anything again. “Long time no see.” You spoke finally. He snorted and you immediately felt more at ease.

“I was just gonna grab my stuff and go.” You said looking around. “I got distracted by this room. Someone’s stuck in the 80s.” You pointed out, looking at a lava lamp, feeling the softness of the fuzzy orange carpet under your feet.

“Do you want to talk before you head out?” he asked. It was obvious to him you only came here to talk to him.

“Not if you’re busy up there.” you bit your lip, feeling so foolish for saying that. You were not a teenager anymore, getting jealous over nothing.

“We can get some privacy in here.” Keanu walked across the room, motioning for you to sit on the side of the couch that had no clothes scattered on it and the only place for him to sit in was a beanbag close to the couch.

“I kind of like the 80s style.” he said, laughing as he plopped down onto the beanbag. He finally sounded like the Keanu you got to know. “How’s Jeremy?” he asked suddenly. “You guys never came to say goodbye.”

You sighed. “We’re not together anymore. I was meant to break it off with him so much earlier, but I just kept chickening out. That’s why I never mentioned it. I was a coward.” You looked down at the fuzzy carpet, but you felt Keanu’s stare on you. “I mean I’m not saying… I don’t mean to assume things between us…”

He stopped you before you could mumble any further. “I was hoping both of us were single that night.” He laughed softly, making it clear for you he was indeed interested. Back then.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s been ages since then, I just wanted to make sure…”

“No hard feelings.” Keanu just brushed it off.

You had your hands on your thighs, digging your nails into your skin from the anxiousness you were feeling. No hard feelings. There is no way he was interested anymore. Or that you two could be friends again. There was an awkward silence between you.

“I was actually going to go myself; this party is not really my thing.”

Before he could move, you were standing up. You could see him stare at your long legs as you walked over to him. You reached out your hand, wanting to help him get up, but as soon as he grabbed your hand in his you did not want to let go. He was holding your hand gently, looking you in the eyes, moving his thumb across your skin. Did he still want you after all this time? And after you had lied to him? There was only one way to find out.

“Yeah, we should both go home.” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what you were saying. You placed your hands on his shoulders, sitting down on his lap, straddling him. His hands came down to your hips, his touch very gentle, unsure of what was happening, but not wanting it to stop.

His eyes were even more beautiful up close. Dark and deep. You closed your eyes and kissed him. You were dreading he would pull away at any second. You were not getting any response from him. Your hands roamed down his chest and as your legs sunk deeper into the beanbag, you felt him hard against your bikini. If you doubted how he felt about you before, the erection bursting out of his swimming trunks was your answer. Your body started moving against him on its own, his grip on your hips suddenly hardening. You moaned into the kiss as he was guiding you to keep moving.

He readjusted in the seat and you suddenly felt the rock-hard cock in his pants against your clit. His swimming trunks were thin, the movements and friction making him pant.

You broke the kiss, both your eyes still closed, your foreheads touching. You ran your hand through his hair, something you have wanted to do for so long. Keanu gripping your hips even harder made you press down against him more. Even the dry humping felt so good you did not want to stop to take both of your suits off. His muscles were tightening with each movement, both of you moaning silently. As you felt yourself close you started grinding against him faster, your body desperately needing a break as this position was not comfortable for you. Your moans started getting louder and louder. Keanu understood and despite the loud music upstairs he slipped his tongue inside your mouth drowning out your moans. The intense grinding, Keanu’s hand on your breast and your desperate moaning into his mouth made him lose all control. His other hand reached for your ass, guiding you in the way that finally made him reach an orgasm.

Your body relaxed, pulling away from the kiss trying to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe you made me cum in my pants.” he sounded astonished. It was obvious neither of you have had sex in a long time.

You looked up at him shyly. “I don’t know what got into me.” You suddenly felt embarrassed, pulling yourself further apart from him.

“I feel like a teenager.” he grinned. He cupped your check and made you look up at him, smiling at you happily. “You want to get out of here then?”

You nodded and stood up, looking down at his crotch against which you were grinding just a minute ago. “Did you bring any pants with you?”

He looks down seeing the wet stain on his shorts and laughs whole-heartedly again.

[vampwrrrmistresslist]

Honey Moon

You opened your eyes to see Chanyeol gazing down at you, his eyes sleepy, but warm.  

“Ah!” he purred.  “Good morning, yeobo…”  His voice was even deeper than usual, and you hid your face in the crook of his neck, blushing.  It would take a while to get used to that.

“Good morning…yeobo…” you giggled into his neck.

“Why?” he rumbled.  “Are you shy?”

You nodded.  

He pulled the covers over your heads.  “Shall I help you with that?”

You missed breakfast.

***

Fortunately, the inn owner was used to newlyweds.  She left a tray outside your door, and you both spent the morning replenishing your energy with thick, warm drinking chocolate, steaming croissants with fresh preserves, and bowls of artfully cut fruit.

***

“So, what do you want to do today?”

“Well, if you really want to know, I’d personally like nothing better than to carry you back to–”

“Yeolliel!”

“That’s yeobo, to you!”  He stuck out his tongue playfully.  

“Yeobo…” you whined.  “We haven’t left the room in three days!  They’re going to send in the authorities soon.”

“As long as we keep eating deliciously, they’ll know that we’re still alive.”

You jumped on the couch beside him, taking his hand, and playfully swinging it back and forth.  “Yeoboooo!  I want to go out!  I want to show off my handsome husband!”

Chanyeol tilted his head, looking at you fondly.  “Ahhhh!  So cute!  I can’t stand it!”  He pretended to wrap his hands around your neck, but instead of squeezing, he just pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you over his lap, as he proceeded to give you playful kisses all over your face until you were a giggling mess.

“So!” he finally said, decisively patting you on the bottom, and setting you down beside him on the couch.  “What do you want to do?”

“Honestly?”

He slanted you a sly look.  

“No!  I mean, yes, but…not right now!”  You hit him playfully on the shoulder as he threw back his head and laughed.  

“Okay, yeobo, I’ll stop.  Maybe.  Probably not.  So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to go exploring.”

His eyes lit with excitement.  “Really?”

You nodded vigorously.  “I mean, we’re surrounded by all this lovely scenery, and I would love to see what the town has to offer, but for now…I just really want to see the countryside.  I kind of just want to explore…like we used to do when we were little.

You and Chanyeol had grown up together, and no one had been surprised when childhood friends turned into high school sweethearts.  You had weathered high school angst, college overwork, and the separation of the military, and though there had been fights along the way, you had never even thought about leaving each other’s sight.  You couldn’t imagine life without him by your side, and he felt the same.

There had only been one real rocky patch in your relationship, after he had returned from the military.  He had seemed as if he were constantly pushing you away, but when you confronted him about it, you were finally able to work it out, and come out on the other side stronger than ever.  Sometimes you still wondered what had caused the momentary rift.  He had never told you.

Chanyeol wasn’t like most men.  He was extremely vocal, and demonstrative in his love, uncaring of what anyone else thought.  All he cared about is that you knew that you were loved, protected, and cherished, and–secure in that knowledge–it was your pleasure to protect his heart for the rest of your life.

“We can make a fort!” he said excitedly.

You laughed.  “Maybe!”

He put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you up off of the couch, as he followed, leading you to the door.  “How about you ask ajumma to make us a picnic basket?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed.

He pulled you back briefly, to give you a peck before you left.  “Love you.”

“Love you, always.”

***

The inn ajumma was as delighted to pack a basket for you as she was with your schoolgirl French.  Reaching up a hand, she affectionately patted you on the cheek.  “Ah, I will never get tired of seeing newlyweds. You’re always so bright-eyed, and red-cheeked!  You know,” she began conspiratorially, “I think that constantly being surrounded by all of this young love helps keep the fire alive between my Phillippe and me!”

You blushed, and she winked.  “Ahhh, newlyweds!  So cute!”

***

“Wow!  This thing is heavy!”

“We can take turns carrying it.”

“Absolutely not!”

You rolled your eyes.  “I’m perfectly capable of carrying heavy objects, you know!”

“Don’t care.”

“You’re such a caveman!”

“Yeah, but I’m your caveman!”

You tried to hide your smile.  Sure, you put up a front, but you secretly loved it when Chanyeol took care of you.  

He knew it, of course, which is why he did it.  That, and it made him feel all manly.  

“Where do you want to go first?” you asked.

“Mmm, do you want to explore first, or eat first?”

Your stomach growled.  

He guffawed, clapping his hands.  

“Yah, it’s not my fault that you’re constantly making me burn so many calories!”

He blushed.  “Let’s find a nice place to eat.”

“Ajumma did mention that her brother had a late season lavender field somewhere around here that we could use. That sounds nice.”

“Shall we?”

You nodded, turning in the direction that she had described.  You both wandered for a while in comfortable silence, the early autumn sun warmly caressing your backs.

He broke the silence, inhaling deeply. “Ahhh, this weather is so nice!  This Provence air is really on another level, don’t you think?  It’s so refreshing!”

You nodded.  “This is a beautiful place.  Thank you again.”

He shook his head.  “Let’s see, fresh air, delicious food, isolated room, grateful wife extra excited because she’s on her dream vacation, yeah, it was such a hardship to come here!”

Snorting, you leaned over, and bit him on the shoulder.

“Watch out, yeobo, or I’ll make you burn even more calories before we make it to lunch!” he grinned teasingly, bumping you gently with his hip.

“Oh!  Look!  Over there!” you pointed.  You could just make out the edge of the lavender field in the distance.  Turning, you both made your way toward it. “Oowha!” You were in awe.  “It’s lovely!”

Chanyeol had to agree.  “We’re going to smell like lavender for days,” he grinned, picking a nice spot, and laying down the blanket that was in the basket.  

Reaching inside, you began to pull out the goodies that ajumma had packed.  There was crusty fougasse–fragrant with rosemary and olives, and still just a bit warm from the oven, soft assertive cheeses, creamy liver pate, sweet candied fruits, smoky jambon and lox, salty saucisson, crunchy cornichons, full, tight, blushing apples, a whole roast chicken, and crunchy black nougat, filled with sweet honey, and fat almonds.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened.  “Yeobo, I love you, but I think that I’m going to have to leave you for ajumma.”

“Not if I leave you first!” you retorted, looking over the spread.  

“Shared custody?”

“Call,” you nodded decisively.  “Oh!  We can’t forget…” you did a little dance as you reached inside the basket for the last items–two bottles of rare sweet vendange tardive–one white, and one red.

“Two bottles?” he asked, his eyebrows raising.  

“I love this woman,” you muttered.  “Thank goodness she packed a lot. Even she must have realized that your appetite is legendary!”

“Ang!” he growled playfully, making adorable cat claws.

True to form, between the two of you, you were easily able to polish off the feast, though admittedly, most of it made it into his belly.  

After the picnic, you lay on your back, your head in his lap, looking up at the sky while he fed you slices of apple, and bites of nougat.  You were both in a pleasantly tipsy haze in your lavender cocoon, having finished one bottle of wine, and started on another.  

“Yeobo,” Chanyeol drawled lazily.

“Mm?” you answered, your voice sleepy.  

When he didn’t answer, you looked over at him.  Your eyes widened.  “No! No!  Absolutely not!”  You scrambled up, trying to put distance between you.

He caught you easily about the waist, and dragged you back, struggling and giggling.  “Why not?  There’s no one around for miles…”

“We’re outside!”

“In the middle of a very tall lavender field.”

“We’re not animals!”

“This is France!” he said expansively, waving an arm to indicate the fields glowing in the late afternoon light.  “The country of love and romance! Dare we be impertinent enough, dare I say…rude enough not to experience everything she has to offer?”

You giggled, suddenly realizing that you were more than a little tipsy.  

He leaned forward, nuzzling your nose.  “Just this once?”

Your head tipped back, as you laughed, and laughed, peals of delighted joy pouring out of your throat like birdsong.  Looking back down, you pushed him back onto the blanket, and leaned forward to lovingly kiss his eyelids.

“Just this once.”

***

You didn’t get to start exploring the forest until much later than you had previously anticipated.

***

You tucked the basket into an out-of-the way nook in the stone fence surrounding the lavender field, and taking Chanyeol by the hand, let him lead you into the forest.

It was like another world, all in gold and green.  Butterflies flitted here and there, and the warm sunlight filtered through the trees in softly luminescent beams.  Chanyeol seemed to perk up in the forest, becoming even more energetic than usual, quick to point out a shy animal, or beautiful flower.  There wasn’t any discernible path, but you weren’t worried.  Both of you had your fully charged phones and, according to the ajumma, the forest was only a few kilometres in any given direction.

Soon, you came upon a large, lazy stream, and proceeded to spend most of the afternoon playing in the water, climbing the trees that surrounded the stream, and jumping in, trying to see who could make the loudest splash.  You caught frogs, wrestled in the mud, and finally cleaned each other off in the cool, clear running water, watching as curious little fish played around your legs.  

“Did you know that France has panthers?” you asked as you gently palmed water over his muddied cheeks.

“Oh?” he said, splashing water over your arms.  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“I’m not worried.  I’m just trying to scare you.”

He laughed arrogantly.  “I’m not afraid of a little cat.”

“France has bears, too, you know.”

His adorably large ears perked up a bit at that.  “Do they?”

You nodded mischievously.  “They’re in the mountains, though.”

He slanted you an oblique look.  “Minx.”  Ablutions complete, he took you by the hand and carefully led you out of the stream, to sit on the rocky shore.

“To be honest,” you started, “the most dangerous things recently, have been boars and cows.”

“Oh, you mean dinner?” he snorted, drawing you into his lap, and burying his face in the side of your neck.  

You opened your mouth to retort, when your attention was drawn away by the soft glow of a firefly.  Looking around, you realized that the gloaming had descended.  “Yeobo,” you whispered, “look!”

Chanyeol lifted his head to see the fireflies glowing here and there, points of gold illuminating the soft rich blue of twilight.  “It’s beautiful,” he whispered.  

You watched his face as he looked around in awe.  “I love you.”

His eyes came to rest on your face, his gaze gentle.  “I love you always.” Leaning forward, he brought his hands to your face, tenderly cupping your jaw and slanting his mouth over yours in a slow, sweet kiss.

A wet, tearing noise rent the silence, and Chanyeol broke the kiss with a startled cry.

“Yeollie?” In your fear, you reverted back to your nickname for him.

“What…what day is it?” he groaned.  

“Uh…I don’t know.  Hold on, let me check.”  Grabbing your phone from beside you, you swiped to check the date, but he snatched it from you, seemingly searching something.  

He must not have liked whatever he found, because his face grew pale, paler than you had ever seen, and sweat started to bead on his brow.  “No,” he whispered.  “How could I have…?”

“What’s wrong?  What is it?”

Another sloppy, slimy, rending noise rang through the still evening, and he doubled over, falling onto his side, a pained growl escaping through clenched teeth.  

“Yeollie, what is it!  Tell me where it hurts!”

Slowly, he crawled away from you.  “Yeobo,” he gasped, “do you trust me?”

“Of course, now tell me what’s wrong!”

He turned, his face screwed up in pain, but managed to stand.  Stumbling over to you, he took your face in his hands.  “I need you to do something for me, can you do that?”

“Yes, of course, whatever you need–do you need me to call an ambulance?”

“No!” His voice was so loud that it hurt your ears as it rang through the clearing.  “Listen to me, I need you to do exactly what I say, do you understand?”

“Yes!  I will–Yeollie, please, what is it?!”

“I need you to run.”

You paused, confused.  “What?”

“Run.  Run back to the inn.  No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, you have to run and not stop, do you understand me?”  His voice was deep and strident, and you found yourself nodding without even thinking.

“What’s going on?!”

A sharp crack reverberated through the forest, and he fell to his knees.  

You looked on in horror, seeing that he had seemingly broken his leg while just standing there.  “Yeollie!” you whispered, tears blurring your vision.

His head was down, and he was panting.  “Do you love me?”

“Always!” your answer was immediate–you didn’t even have to think about it.

He looked up at you, and you stumbled backward.  His pupils…were glowing with a lambent orange light, as if a fire had been lit behind them.  As you watched, his face began to distort with even more nauseating, wet popping and crunching noises.  His teeth distended, pushing out of his mouth.  Yet, in the middle of all this, he looked up at you, and those strange eyes still shone with love.  “Then, run.”

You didn’t need to be told a third time.  

You crashed blindly through the rapidly darkening forest, no idea where you were going, but hoping that you were were at least going straight.    

A loud, mournful howl sounded from behind you.

You didn’t have the luxury of thought.  You just ran.  You could hear something large and heavy–very large, and very heavy–crashing through the forest behind you.  

You hadn’t gone far when you heard a growl to your right.  Turning, you saw a thin wolf keeping pace with you.  Chanyeol?!  Terrified, you put on another burst of speed.  

Another jumped in front of you, and you fell on your bottom as you skidded to a stop.  Scrambling quickly, you spun in another direction, but before you could take more than a few steps, yet another wolf leapt in your path.  You were surrounded.

Desperately, you looked around for something that you could use as a weapon.  Nothing.  

Growling, the pack crept closer, hemming you in their ever tightening ring of fangs and claws.  

Seeing an out, you ran to the nearest tree and leapt, wrapping your hands around a low-hanging branch.  Tightening your muscles, you lifted your legs up toward the branch.  Before you could get away, however, you felt a sharp tug on the back of your skirt.  You screamed as you felt yourself being tugged backward, and struggled to hold onto the branch.  

With relief, you felt the fabric of the skirt began to tear away, but at that same moment, your hands, sweaty with fear, slipped.

You fell.

As you fell, you kicked out, clipping the nearest wolf with a sharp cuff to the jaw.  It whimpered in pain, falling backward, and the rest of the pack backed up a fraction, realizing that you were not easy prey.  

Panting, you pressed your back to the trunk of the tree, afraid to turn and climb, given the wolves’ proximity.  

Slowly, they began to slink forward again, but feinted closer when you tried to turn.  One of the thinnest, emboldened by the scent of your fear, crouched in preparation for a leap.  With a spring, he leapt toward you, jaws wide to tear out your throat.

He never made it.

Suddenly, your view of the wolves was blocked by something.  Something huge, and dark, and furred.  A low, menacing growl came from whatever stood in front of you.  

As the pearlescent light of the full moon filtered through the clouds, you were able to get a better look, though you wished that you hadn’t.

Whatever it was was tall, at least six feet, though it was hunched over, as if it had a curved spine.  Dark, dense black fur covered it, and wicked claws tipped its fingers. Gleaming fangs protruded from its long snout–opened in a deep warning growl.  

The other wolves paced back and forth, clearly unwilling to give up their prey.  One went for the leg of the beast in front of you, but he was batted aside as easily as if he were a mere pup, instead of almost two hundred pounds of hard bone, and deadly muscle.

With a snarl, all of the wolves suddenly attacked at once.  It was a flurry of fangs and fur, flashing eyes, and snapping jaws.  The cacophony of growls and snarls was terrifying, and you wanted nothing more than to run and keep running, but you finally realized the reality of the phrase, “frozen with fear”.  You were too scared to run, too scared to climb, too scared to do anything but watch the vicious fight unfolding before you.  

Suddenly, one of the wolves broke free, and ran around the beast before you, jaws opening as it went for your throat.  

Spinning almost faster than you could see, the tall beast reached out a clawed hand, and slapped the wolf right out of the air–so hard that it hit a tree six feet away with a sickening thud.

You started, but kept your jaw tight, using every drop of willpower you had to keep from screaming.  

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over, and the pale wolves silently slunk back into the forest, disappearing almost as if they had never been there.

Panting, the beast in front of you waited, turning in first one direction, then the other, large ears on the top of his head turning this way and that, in an apparent effort to catch the slightest noise.  

Involuntarily, you whimpered, and it spun to face you. You pressed yourself against the tree, trembling, too frightened to even close your eyes for the end.  

Slowly, it approached, snuffling the air.  It crouched before you, crawling toward you on its hands and knees.

You shuddered in terror at its proximity, the sudden movement causing it to duck back with a growl.  With an effort, you held yourself still.

After a moment, it started forward again, air loudly wuffling through its snout as it brought its face to you, sniffing you all over.  

You turned your head away, not wanting to see your end, and it buried its wet snout in your neck.  

After a few deep echoing inhales, it snorted, shaking its head with a sneeze, and moved back, its tongue lolling out of its mouth as it began to pant. Suddenly it turned and flopped down, laying its huge head on your lap.  

You couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t inhale enough oxygen, the fear holding your lungs in an iron grip.  The world came crashing down on you, and you fainted.

***

Birdsong was echoing through the air when you awoke, squinting at the sunlight assaulting your eyelids. You could hear Chanyeol making the cute little noises that he made before waking up, and you opened your eyes, excited for another morning of being able to look your fill of your handsome husband.

But, when you opened your eyes, you felt nothing but confusion.  You blinked a few times, to clear your head of sleep, and looked around.  No, you weren’t imagining it, you were in the forest. Looking down, you saw Chanyeol, naked as the day he was born, his head in your lap as he softly whimpered in his sleep.  

“Yeobo…” you whispered.

He didn’t move.

You reached out a hand to gently shake his shoulder.  “Yeobo?”

Chanyeol awoke slowly, rubbing his eyes. Looking up, his eyes caught your face, and he smiled beatifically.  “What a lovely morning!” he rumbled, his voice flirtatious.  

“Yeobo, did we…sleep outside?”

He looked around, then quickly sat up as he took in his surroundings.  

Suddenly, the previous night flooded back to you, and you gasped.  

At the sound, Chanyeol spun to face you, his eyes running over you.  “Oh, no.  Oh, no, no, no!”  His eyes filled with tears.  “Yeobo…nae aegiya…I am so sorry!”  His eyes were fixed on your abdomen.

You looked down.

Four long, shallow gashes cut through your clothes, and lay livid against the tender flesh of your belly.

A/N:  If you want to follow me, then please do so at my main blog @vampwrrr​, as I always update there, first.

[kayr0ss]

My Cherie Amour

[LWA, Diakko, Absolute Fluff, Dancing together, Tipsy Diana, This is the Cheesiest Shit Ok?]

When Akko wondered about how Diana behaved drunk, she thought maybe Diana would come on to her. Or poetically declare her love. Or maybe even pass out on the spot, adorably in need of care. She didn’t expect to be dancing to Stevie Wonder.

[Ok, guys, I 150% recommend that you listen to this to get a better feel of the fic because I am honestly just swooning[

–

Three glasses of wine, an obligatory shot of tequila, and a scotch on the rocks.

Akko had been keeping track.

Diana’s alcohol consumption for the night was impressive, and that the blonde hardly looked affected was just little bit frustrating. Akko watched as her date caught up with Hannah and Barbara a few paces away, looking calm and collected as ever. She glanced at her own bottle of beer, sighing because this is barely her second one and she was already feeling a little woozy.

Maybe she shouldn’t have taken that obligatory tequila shot. Damnit, Amanda!

Their a-year-after-graduation reunion was a semi-formal affair; it was also the most relaxed they’ve ever been within the Luna Nova school grounds. The return of the Magic Age meant enrollees, and enrollees meant the school could afford small luxuries they haven’t been able to—and so, here they were, milling about in the castle’s grand hall with cocktails, dinner, and familiar chatter.

“O’Neil!”

All too familiar chatter. Akko smiled, watching as Professor Finnelan attempted to shoo Amanda away from the punch bowl.

“There’s already a bar! You don’t need to spike the punch!”

“When have I ever done something because I needed to!” Amanda laughed, running away with a half-empty bottle of gin. She saw the sporty witch stride towards her, and Akko beamed at her mischievously.

“Stop looking so lonely, Kagari,” Amanda grinned, poking at Akko’s forehead.

“Stop trying to get everyone drunk,” the brunette giggled.

“You don’t actually mean that. I mean have you ever even seen Diana drunk?”

“I’m not going to pretend I haven’t wondered,” Akko admitted.

“Then, I’m not going to pretend I haven’t been passing her drinks all night.”

“Amanda!”

“Hey!” Amanda shrugged, “Professor Croix has been trying to make a pass at Professor Ursula, Lotte has been asking for Karaoke, and Jasminka… well.”

The brunette craned her neck to see Jasminka looking perfectly normal and sharing a slice of cake with Constanze.

“I’m partly convinced she’s immune to liquor.”

Akko nodded in wonder, “I totally get what you mean.”

“In any case, you can’t say my master plan isn’t working,” the other witched crossed her arms, looking very much pleased. “I mean what if Diana is an aggressive drunk,” she winked exaggeratedly, and Akko began to blush at her innuendo, “or a talkative drunk who won’t stop gushing about you—or—maybe a throw-up-on-my-shirt-and-pass-out drunk?”

Akko broke out laughing, playfully imagining the different kinds of Dianas and entertaining the idea of finding out. She had a glint in her red eyes, and with a determined look to Amanda, she snickered, “let’s pour the other half into the iced tea.”

A familiar hand slipped into hers from behind, and Akko tensed when she felt fingers interlace with her own, “should I be worried about the mischievous looks on your faces?”

“Diana!” Akko squeaked, caught red-handed.

“We can at least guarantee no explosions?” Amanda grinned.

Diana raised an eyebrow, shooting Amanda a look she had perfected from four years of keeping the American witch in line.

“Say, Diana, feeling a little flushed?”

Akko watched as the blonde took a sip of scotch—wait, was that a new glass? She looked so completely okay, and Akko resigned herself to the fact that Diana had impossibly high tolerance. It might not have been as impressive as Jasminka’s, but that woman was on a whole new level altogether. She fell into familiar chatter, snickering under her breath while Amanda tried to bait something embarrassing out of Diana. Of course, nothing worked, so Akko settled on appreciating the simplicity of her date’s outfit. A white button up blouse, high-waisted cream slacks and heels. It was a contrast to her own red dress, but she supposed she and Diana have always been stark contrasts of each other. When Amanda excused herself to join her former roommates, Akko felt an arm around her waist and chuckled when Diana held her from behind.

“Someone missed me after ten minutes of being away,” she teased.

“Perhaps,” Diana mumbled. To Akko’s surprise, Diana’s head fell onto her shoulder and her other arm had done away with her glass to wrap around the brunette’s torso as well. Akko tilted her head, reluctantly pulling away and turning in Diana’s arms before—she noticed pink-tinged cheeks.

Akko’s face broke into a victorious grin, “you’re looking red.”

Diana opened her mouth as if to say something, and then promptly shut it closed, nearly losing her balance when she tried to step closer to Akko.

The brunette laughed, catching Diana by her hands, grinning like a school girl because she gets to see Diana act silly! “How long have you been faking it?”

“I wasn’t.”

Akko chortled, rolling her eyes. “Can you not? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“And give O’Neil the satisfaction?”

“Oh my god,” Akko wanted to face-palm, but she also really wanted to see this play out, “you’re that kind of drunk.”

“I am not.”

“Mhmm,” Akko smiled affectionately, lifting a hand to Diana’s cheek, “let’s take a seat. I’m getting pretty dizzy myself, and I can actually admit it.”

She could see Constanze shuffle towards the sound booth, with Amanda looking smug from the Green Team’s table. The little Stanbot manning the turntable nodded its cute, rectangular head and after fiddling with a few buttons the ambient classical music was switched up to old, cheesy songs.

Akko found herself pleasantly surprised while she led Diana to their table by the hand. A Stevie Wonder classic was on, and it looked like they were trying to bait Chariot and Croix into a slow dance.

The tell-tale melody in what sounded like a flute, along with the muted bass and some jazz guitar seems to have put a certain blonde in a pleasant trance.

“Akko,” Diana softly called. “I quite enjoy this song.”

She looked at Diana with raised eyebrows, “I didn’t think you’d be the 70’s type. My parents love this song.”

“My mother enjoyed it as well,” Diana’s grip on her hands was suspiciously firm, and Akko found herself swallowing.

My cherie amour, lovely as a summer day

“Diana?” Akko nervously chuckled.

“Indulge me?” Diana’s speech was still put together, albeit a little bit slurred. They didn’t make it anywhere near the table. Diana was pulling them towards—

The dance floor?

My cherie amour, distant as the milky way

“You’ve definitely drank too much,” the brunette muttered incredulously, shooting Diana a look that read ‘please don’t!’.

The tempo wasn’t as slow as she expected. The snare had a little bit of funk, and the bass notes and dreamy, high-pitched strings went well together. The couple was at the edge of the dance floor, and Akko was thankful because for once her life she could her feel her cheeks burn at the thought of being the center of attention. Diana looked pretty red, but her eyes were on Akko’s—and nowhere else—and if that was any indication, the blush was probably just her scotch.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I might melt,” Akko groaned, brows furrowing in feigned defiance as Diana’s hand clumsily gripped onto hers. There was another hand at her waist, and Akko wrapped her fingers behind the back of the blonde’s neck. There was no backing down, it seems, and they were already swaying in four-four measure.

They were going to get teased until the end of time, but for Akko this was a pleasant surprise. Diana liked to dance to Stevie Wonder. What a thought. Her footfalls were a little clumsy, and it was one of those rare occasions that Akko seemed to have a better grip on things than her partner did. She felt Diana’s hand inch downwards, appreciating the sway of her hips, and Akko tried not swoon while she massaged Diana’s nape. The chorus rolled in. Diana sighed, licking her lips, looking absolutely smitten while she leaned in and—

“My cherie amour—”

Akko was going to faint.

“—pretty little one that I adore,”

Diana was singing and if Akko wasn’t completely absorbed by the moment, she might have noticed her friends gawking from the tables at their endearingly clumsy attempt at a dance.

She also didn’t want to blow her own horn, but by Jennifer, Diana looked so in love.

And Akko felt it too.

“You’re the only girl my heart beats for,” Diana leaned forward, whispering the words against Akko’s temple and her breath was tinged with the fumes of alcohol.

Akko didn’t mind.

“How I wish that you were mine.”

Their clasped hands were disentangled, and Akko’s arms were around Diana’s neck. The brunette leaned back to give Diana a teasing look, “am I not already?” She moved her hands from behind the blonde’s neck to cup her face, and on a whim, Akko stepped up to her tiptoes and—

“Eep!”

Diana side-stepped, looking flustered and a little out of breath, “A—Akko. We’re at the dancefloor and it is hardly the appropriate time to—”

The brunette rolled her eyes, feeling too affectionate to actually be mad, “Mou! I can’t believe you. You drink a bit too much, drag me to dance, sing to me, and don’t let me give you one, teeny tiny kiss?”

But Diana was Diana, and she was never one for public displays of affection—despite all the wine. Akko took her by the hands, smiling at her with a mixture of love and mischief while she led her away from the dancefloor, away from prying eyes.

Besides, what a waste of a good song.

—

Constanze caught a pair hiding behind one of the great hall’s pillars, but she looked away. Both out of respect and a general sense of ‘I-don’t-want-too-see-it’.

It would have been captivating sight, though, with Akko’s hands in Diana’s hair while the blonde whispered the last chorus against her lips.

Oh, cherie amour

Pretty little one that I adore

You’re the only one my heart beats for

Can’t believe that you are mine

–

Look this was 100% self-indulgent cheesy shit LOL I can’t get the image of them dancing to that song [pls listen to it omg My Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder] out of my head I am dying.

Also sorry Mr. Wonder I changed the last line! It’s actually ‘How I wish that you were mine’ but ya knoowwww that one fits better

Side note sorry I didn’t get to work on the prompts today! I’ll get it back on track tomorrow [along with working on the 2nd chapter of Appointments woo]. I’ll be starting a new job on the 22nd! And I’m honestly a bit intimidated with regards to getting to finish fics [granted that I’m also working on this slow-ass InoSaku multichap from back in 2016 o_o] but anyway yeah so that’s what’s up with me hope you guys enjoy!

[salexectrian-heir]

Loki: Chapter 9

Pairing: Solavellan Rating: E* (not every chapter is E, most are rated T. Chapters containing explicit content will be marked with an asterisk*) Summary: Lavellan rescued a mischievious sphynx kitten outside her work who loves her dearly. But his destructive habits start to get out of hand when he steals her attractive neighbor’s underwear… repeatedly. [Previous Chapter]      [Read on AO3]

“Honestly, I think you should quit your job and be a chef, or one of those stay at home hipster-food bloggers that instagrams all their meals and gets sponsored by food industry monopolies.”

This earned her one of those rare and coveted chuckle-snorts she had grown attached to. She peered at him from over her shoulder where she stood in front of his kitchen sink, cleaning up the dishes of their--once again brilliant--grilled shrimp taco dinner. It had been over two weeks, since they had their first formal dinner together, since they slept together. A make-up of sorts for missing out on celebrating the new year. Naturally, the E.R. was filled with those who had made not so wise choices, blown off parts of their bodies with fireworks they should not have been setting off...and thus Anise was other was preoccupied. Solas had agreed to feed Loki for her while she was called away. So at least that spoiled brat got a new year’s kiss. Her heart fluttered when he met her gaze, lips pulling into a smirk where he sat lounging on his couch.

“There is only one problem,” he said, pouring them each another glass of wine from a fresh bottle. They had already killed one during dinner. “I don’t have an instagram.”

She shifted her weight and placed a hand on her hip. “Then how do you post all your mundane life updates?”

“Facebook?” He shrugged as she let out a mocking hiss of disapproval, “I don’t use it that often. Not much occurs in my life that demands a social media update.”

“Well, you should friend request me anyway so I can post random updates on your wall for you.”

Another tipsy chuckle and a smile that reached his eyes. “I’m sure you would.”

Dropping the towel she had been using to dry the counter, she made her way over to settle on the couch beside him. She swiped her glass from his extended hand and tucked her feet beneath her.

“What you don’t want to be connected?” she teased as he glanced down at his wine. “Are you still friends with an ex that would stalk me or something?”

His whole body went still.

“I was joking,” she playfully shoved him with her foot, and it brought a small smile back on his face.

“Joking as it were, you are...not entirely wrong.”

She stared at him expectantly. “Go on.”

“It’s complicated.”

He made to stand but she caught him by the elbow. He send a sideways glance towards her, a hint of apprehension in his eyes behind the mirth.

“Oh no, you don’t get out of that so easily.”

He sighed and brought his fingers to steeple over his flushed face. “My life revolves around my work."

“I know."

“Literally. My social circle, including my previous romantic relationships…” He straightened, his hands knotting together in his lap. “One more reason I was hesitant to get involved with you. I do not want to subject you, or anyone, to the chaos that is my life. My last relationship was a mistake. One I never should have made.”

“As they often are.”

“But because we work together... “ he exhaled sharply, “that’s not accurate. Because I work for her, I am still in frequent contact. It’s a bit a of a mess.”

She choked on her wine. “ You’ve slept with your boss, too ?”

Surprise rippled over his face at her outburst. “What?”

“Oh we’ll delve into my romantic disaster history in a minute. Please continue, you have a lot to unpack here.” She smiled behind her glass of wine, and nudged him again with her foot. “Go on, I want to hear this story.”

“Oh, no I would love to hear anything you have to say this point,” he turned to face her, tucking one leg beneath him, mirroring her position, “because what I’m about to say next will make everything worse.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. She decided putting wine in it was the best course of action and so she drained her glass. “Nope, you gotta finish embarrassing yourself first. Then I’ll layout my baggage.”

“I warned you,” his mouth split into a chagrined smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I got involved with the Chief Operating Officer.”

Anise gasped and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, “The C.O.O.? Solas!”

“I was young and stupid and it lasted far longer than it should have. And of course, like all things doomed to fail, it got out. Her husband found out--”

“ Her husband!?”

“The CEO.”

“You’re playing with me right now.”

“No, I am being honest.” The humor left his voice. “It’ not even a subject we should be laughing over… but…” He drug a hand over his face, wiping  away the fragment of a smile from the moment before. “For once I am able to talk about it without hating myself, so that must count for something.”

Anise said aside her empty wine glass and scooted closer to him on the couch.

“Sorry I pried. I didn’t mean to open up things better left--”

“It’s okay. I should talk about these things.” He allowed her to take his hand in her own. “The point was that we are all connected on social media as well. I would like to just keep this new part of my life, my life with you , private. Something I don’t have to share with the world that demands every second of my existence.”

“Is this why you choose to live here, and commute to Arlathan?”

He nodded. “Obviously there were repercussions for our actions. I was demoted. She was suspended from her position. And that caused a lot of unrest in the company. She was admired by many. I was blamed for her downfall. And in a way, I am directly responsible.”

“What were you before a rep?”

“I worked in the labs. It’s where my true talent lies.” He shrugged. “But my clearances have been revoked and I was repurposed, as was she. Apparently we were still valuable enough to the company to be tethered and leashed for the last five years. Or perhaps it is a punishment.”

“Why don’t you just quit?” When he didn’t say anything she felt the need to add, “I’m being serious, Solas. If they’re treating you this badly, and it makes you this unhappy, walk away .”

“Could you walk away from your job after a major mistake knowing you might be able to fix , or make a difference?

Her heart dropped into her stomach. “No. I couldn’t.”

“Yes, the company itself is corrupt but the medicine they create saves lives. I used to be a part of that process.” He squeezed her hand. “I created this mess. My pride won’t just let me walk away from it.”

He may be a stubborn fool, but now he’s my stubborn fool.

“I want you to know that I’ll support you--no matter what you stubbornly choose to do.”

“You may regret that.”

A brief moment of silence enveloped them, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I also, have made some… less than wise decisions. And that is saying it nicely.” His thumb began idly tracing designs on the back of her hand as she spoke, and it gave her courage.

Here goes nothing.

She took a deep breath. “I was engaged, once.”

He sat up a little straighter, giving her his full attention. “You were?”

“Yeah,” with her free hand she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, “clearly didn’t end well.”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

They shared a quiet laugh. “Hah, exactly.”

“Was it to your boss…?”

“Oh creators, no.” she shook her head vehemently. “A man from my clan. Arranged marriage type thing.” He stared at her sympathetically. “We wanted to start a family... but I…. we had a falling out and he cheated, I didn’t handle it well, I decided to go to med school instead, something that would take a long time and basically give me an excuse to never go home and...”

Face reality. Face the loss of a child, of a family. Too much, too painful. Change the subject, this is one for another time.

“The boss story though, that was more recent.” She changed the subject, adjusting her legs so she was sitting cross legged.  “ I got involved with one of the attendings when I was just starting out as an intern. Not my brightest moment. It was messy, and I quickly realized he was entangled with many other people, and not just me. It was a shock but once I figured it out I ended my part in it.”

If he noticed the abrupt topic switch, he made no comment. “Which attending did you sleep with?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Do you think you know him?”

“I might,” he gave a small smile.

“Anders is a remarkable doctor. I swear the entirety of his personal life puts your sleeping with your boss story to shame.”

That made Solas laugh, a real one this time. “I do know him.”

Anise blanched. “Oh, gods.”

Solas’ mouth curved into a teasing smile as one brow arched. “I’m surprised to hear the hospital staff fraternize so… frequently.”

“We’re not supposed to, but when you spend a sixteen hour high stress shift literally inside someone together...well…” she gestured with her free hand. “It happens. It’s a cesspool honestly. Every week I’m trying to figure out who’s sleeping with who so I don’t step on toes or accidentally out a relationship. It’s tiring.”

“I can imagine. No wonder you always look so wiped when you come home, avoiding all those bleeding hearts.” He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Admirable.”

She shoved him with her shoulder, a blush beginning to color her cheeks. “Stop.”

Leaning his elbow on the back of the couch, he propped his head up with his hand. “I just divulged a secret that would have sent any sensible person running from my apartment. And yet, you’re still here.”

“I pretend to have my life together, but it’s a mess.” A soft smile formed on her lips. “And yet you keep inviting me back.”

He gave a small shake of his head before he reached for her face, cupping her jaw in the palm of his hand as he leaned towards her. “As is mine, and yet you keep staying.”

His lips brushed her own.  She unfurled her limbs and slid her arms around his neck, pulling him gently down over her on the couch. He shifted to lay between her legs that wrapped around his hips once he had settled.

Pressing her mouth to his she whispered, “I never claimed to be sensible.” His tongue darted between her lips, coaxing a moan from her. “I don’t plan on starting to be now, either.”

[cordonianchoicesqueen]

Rewritten: The Royal Romance: Wine Cellar (Part 15)

A/N: Thanks so much for the great feedback on my last chapter!

Summary: After hanging out with Liam in his hot tub, Riley joins Drake for a quick drink in Olivia’s wine cellar.

Choices Chapter: Book One, Chapter Eight [diamond scene]

Disclaimer: Characters and main storyline from Pixelberry’s Choices.

Word Count: 1500+ (just a short one!)

Warnings: none

Link to Full Series: Rewritten

Tags: @krsnlove @cora-nova

Wine Cellar

I was definitely doing the walk of shame heading back to my room from my rendezvous with Prince Liam in his hot tub that night. Although nothing “un-savoury” had occurred, my dress was crinkled and damp from snow plus my hair was out of place and soaking wet from dipping in and out of the water. I snuck along the corridors, holding my heels, trying to avoid the squeaky floorboards. As I reached the top of the staircase to continue down the hall to my room I spotted another figure sneaking through the eerily quiet chateaux in the foyer. Drake’s footsteps were much louder than mine, even though he was definitely attempting to be quiet. It didn’t help that he was carrying a bottle of whiskey and some glasses so that every couple of steps he made a suitably loud clinking noise. Leaning over the bannister, I stage whispered, “Where exactly are you off to, young man?”

My voice startled him and he almost dropped his whiskey. He looked up, fear in his eyes, that immediately disappeared when he saw who the voice had come from. “Thank God that’s you, Brooks,” he whispered back. “That didn’t answer my question!” I replied, still trying to keep my voice down. “I told you. Olivia has an incredible wine cellar. Come have a drink?” he shook his bottle of whiskey at me, temptingly. It wasn’t a difficult decision to join him. I was starting to find Drake’s company somewhat tolerable… plus, I was still so awake from my time with Liam, I knew going back to my room would just entail staring at the ceiling for a few hours. A drink was the perfect way to lull me to sleep. I shrugged at him and, quietly, made my way down the stairs. I followed him into the kitchen and then down a spiral staircase into the wine cellar. The walls were made of beautiful stone work and there were more bottles of wine than I could count. There were a couple of tables throughout the room, which I presumed were there for wine tastings before events. Drake set us up at a table closer to the back so that our voices wouldn’t carry back up into the kitchen. He placed down his whiskey tumblers and grabbed a couple of crystal glasses from the side of the room. Silently, as I took a seat, he perused the shelves and picked out a bottle of red. I was glad that he was already tipsy enough not to notice my current state of dress. “Don’t think this one will be missed,” he muttered, uncorking it and pouring us both a glass. “I didn’t take you for a thief,” I teased. He laughed, “that shows just how much you don’t know me, Brooks.” “You do seem to make it quite difficult for people to know you,” I said, as he took a seat next to me. I sipped my wine and my taste buds lit up with the flavour. I couldn’t imagine growing up in a world with unlimited access to delicious, expensive booze instead of living off cheap grain vodka at University and stealing liquors you don’t even like from your parent’s stash. “Well,” Drake said, sipping his wine, “you saw how Olivia, a person who knows me, treated me the other day. No point letting anyone in so that they can use it against me later.” “I’ve, also, seen how Liam treats you… and wouldn’t you say he knows you better?” I questioned. “You’ve got a point,” he said, downing the rest of the glass. “I’m not really one for wine, more of a whiskey guy.” “So, you break into Olivia’s wine cellar to drink your own whiskey?” I laughed. “Tell me, doesn’t it feel great to be somewhere Olivia wouldn’t want you to. Drinking her booze?” he smiled, pouring us glasses of whiskey. He had me there. Sitting in what was technically her hot tub with Liam had felt somewhat thrilling. Now, sat with Drake felt like a somewhat diluted version but he was right. After Olivia’s display at the ball… kissing Liam… in front of everyone… I would drink all her booze if I liked. I raised my glass, “To Olivia.” Drake laughed, clinking my glass with his own, “To Olivia.” We sat in silence for a moment, letting the alcohol warm us from the inside. It was strange just how comfortable I was in silence with Drake. I let the booze take over my body, feeling myself become more and more tipsy. “I’ve got to say,” he finally said, “it’s refreshing to have someone break the rules with me.” I smiled, “I don’t know why you put yourself through all this noble stuff if you don’t enjoy it.” “It’s for Liam… it’s always been for him. He’s like a brother to me and he likes to have me around to keep him grounded, to be his confidant when he feels like he can’t trust anyone else around him. I feel like I owe him so much. This is the least I can do,” he shrugged, staring into the bottom of his glass. “I’m sure he appreciates it,” I said, finishing my drink. “He better,” he poured us some more. “I mean, sometimes I look at you… and I see this wide-eyed baby deer who just stumbled into the hunter’s campsite…” “I can handle myself,” I said, indignant. He smiled, “I’m sure you can… you just don’t know these people like I do.” “You keep saying that but not really explaining what you mean,” I complained. “People like us… we are dispensable to the court. They don’t care about us and to pretend they do is to be ignorant,” he huffed, taking another huge gulp of whiskey. I rolled my eyes, “who broke your heart, dude? Which of the ladies on the court hurt you so badly?” “Ha,” he said dryly. “None of the women here would give me a second glance. Regardless of the fact that I am not remotely attracted to any of them and that they are all here for Liam. I would never get in the way of Liam picking his wife.” “You’re such a liar. I’m even attracted to a fair few of the women here and I’m like 75% sure I’m straight,” I giggled. “All I will say is that they were all awful to my sister… so I guess you could say she was the one who broke my heart… they made life hell for her, so much so that she had to leave court… and she won’t even talk to me because I chose to stay…” he said, looking away. Drake was doing everything he could to hide his emotions from me. I felt flattered that he was willing to share an intimate part of himself with me but at the same time didn’t know how to comfort him. I wanted to make his pain go away. To take away years of abuse from the people around him. To tell him everything would be okay. Yet, I couldn’t do that. I didn’t know everything would be okay. I placed a hand on top of his, lacing my fingers through his calloused hands. Although rough, my hand seemed to fit perfectly with his. I tried my best not to slur when I said, “I would tell you that I’m sorry but I’m sorry doesn’t do anything. Nothing is fair about how you are treated here and if I become Queen I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are never sat at the rejects table in the back with cold soup again.” He looked up at me through his floppy, brunette hair that needed a brush. His eyes were filled with emotion, so mixed up that I couldn’t read what it meant. “You’re a unique one, I’ll give you that Brooks,” he said. “You’re so frustrating but… forget it.” He shook his head. The moment was over and I quickly drew my hand back as if it had been burnt.   “How about a shot of whiskey?” I smiled. He immediately topped up our glasses and we drank. The whiskey snaked, warm, down the back of my throat with a slight burn as I exhaled. I snuck a look at Drake and could tell that he was now, also, significantly drunk. “All the nobles think about are the big events. The grand balls, the press appearances, the banquets… they don’t even realise that the moments that matter the most are all the ones they’re missing in between. Moments like now. Two commoners, drinking some cheap whiskey,” he placed the empty cup on the table. “Now, it’s getting late and I don’t want you getting into trouble.” “That’s thoughtful of you,” I giggled almost falling off my chair. He stood up, mockingly bowing, “I’m a gentleman, even if not one by birth.” I got up and curtsied deeply to him, “Thanks for the drink and the chat.” “You’re very welcome,” he replied. I walked back over to the spiral staircase and, then, turned back. He was staring back at me in a way I hadn’t seen him do before. It made me feel vulnerable and safe all at once. I waved meekly and scaled the stairs, trying not to trip on the way back to my room in my drunken haze.